Oceanography | June 2015
E
arlier this spring, Eileen Hofmann (Old Dominion
University) and I were asked by the Consortium for
Ocean Leadership to participate in the drafting of a consen-
sus statement regarding the critical role of ocean sciences in
responding to climate change. The European Marine Board
and Ocean Leadership are partners in the development of this
statement, which will be delivered at the fifth European Marine
Board Forum next October at the European Parliament. The
statement is intended to “highlight the key role of the ocean in
climate regulation and climate change, as well as the impacts of
climate change in the marine environment and associated socio-
economic consequences; emphasize the key role of marine sci-
ence in guiding the societal response to climate change; and iden-
tify and communicate the key research priorities in the scope of
ocean and climate which should be supported.” A tall task, par-
ticularly for those of us trained as research oceanographers.
In contemplating the daunting expectations of this consen-
sus statement, I was reminded of a February 2015 Chronicle of
Higher Education article by Andrew J. Hoffman, Professor and
Director of the Erb Institute for Global Sustainable Enterprise
at the University of Michigan, that my colleague Amy Bower
(Wood Hole Oceanographic Institution) forwarded to me
earlier this year. In his article, “Isolated Scholars: Making Bricks,
Not Shaping Policy,” Hoffman makes the case that the academic
community is filled with “brick makers”—researchers who aim
to and are rewarded for producing bricks of knowledge, but who
are either uninterested in or ill equipped for the masonry that
would turn those bricks into a coherent structure. Essentially, he
argues that universities and research institutions are filled with
too many bricklayers and too few masons.
I am sympathetic to the view that researchers, whether at
universities or research institutions, are by and large rewarded
almost exclusively for academic scholarship, and that the mea-
sure of that scholarship can at times bear a fair resemblance to
the process of making bricks. Increasingly, however, there is a call
for public scholarship, whereby university research is focused on
the critical issues that face society in the twenty-first century. It
is hard to imagine a more critical issue facing society today than
climate change, and hard to imagine a more important field in
the study of climate change than oceanography. But are ocean-
ographers active participants in the discussions, debates, and
arguments about climate change?
Advocates for public scholarship argue that conduct-
ing research relevant to the public’s interest meets only half of
our obligation as scientists. Engaging with the public on this
scholarship brings the full measure. Indeed, Hoffman makes
the case that “academics have a duty to make themselves heard
in the public and political spheres, inserting their voices into
debates where expert knowledge can move the conversation
forward.” Thankfully, we are saved from cacophony by the reluc-
tance of some scientists to heed that call to duty, or, perhaps
more accurately stated, by their doubt that such public engage-
ment is their duty.
Yet, surely we all agree that we need oceanographers engaged
in public discussions of topics such as climate change, the health
of coastal ecosystems, sea level rise, and marine geohazards.
Equally, we can agree that not all oceanographers are required
to take part in this engagement: ocean research should remain
a valued pursuit in its own right. We recognize this duality in
our professional ranks, but it is largely ignored in our gradu-
ate programs. Twenty years ago, the concept of interdisciplinary
scholarship was suspect, yet today it is heralded as the hallmark
of ocean science research. Graduate programs in oceanography
have largely embraced, or at least no longer repel, this advance.
However, would the idea that graduate programs in oceanog-
raphy add supplementary training in public scholarship be
embraced or met with suspicion by today’s oceanography faculty?
In this column over the past two years, Mark Abbott has writ-
ten often and eloquently about the need to rethink graduate edu-
cation in oceanography. In his last article as TOS President, he
made the case that we could expand and diversify the value of our
research to a larger community by working together on gradu-
ate education. Specifically, he proposed that “our oceanographic
institutions could forge new partnerships that would share spe-
cialized courses and facilities, thus increasing the choices avail-
able to our students and preparing them for career paths outside
academia and government.” I second Mark’s appeal for work-
ing across institutions to expand the value of our research to the
public, but I would like to further suggest that we can best pre-
pare our students for careers outside and inside academia and
government by providing an education in academic and pub-
lic scholarship. To give the public the whole picture of what
oceanography has to offer, we need brick makers, and we need
masons. Shouldn’t we be training them both?
M. Susan Lozier, TOS President
Oceanographers
as Masons
FROM THE PRESIDENT