This week, I’d like to take some time to discuss an issue that I think is quite pertinent given the current situation in our politics and society: how do we navigate politics, professionalism, and our personal values when those value systems have become much more salient in recent weeks? While this question has been gnawing at me personally because of recent events, it is incredibly relevant to the future of science and technology development. The simple answer is that the division between our personal values and our (projected) professional objectivity is often a mirage. Let me dig a bit deeper.

No matter what you believe or who you vote for, we all want to perceive ourselves as rational beings who, when presented with credible facts and logic, will be willing to change our position. We want to believe that we can separate our political leanings from our professional tasks, and that we can isolate our biases away from our actions. This is almost never the case. We all make assumptions about a great deal of things every day – that the sun will rise in the East this morning because it always has, or that Mike from work will offer you a cup of coffee because he has every day over the past couple of weeks. Our assumptions are reinforced by our past experiences, and we tend to form judgements based on our assumptions. Assumptions are mental shortcuts designed by our brains to make them more efficient; one cannot simply remove these assumptions the second they transition into a professional environment. Many assumptions are benign and often helpful, however there are quite a few assumptions that we may not be consciously aware of, and can become detrimental when they change the way we act towards other individuals. The more assumptions we can actively point to and disclose, the more we are able to mitigate the potential for them to cause inequity.

Scientists in particular are often held to a very high standard of objectivity, particularly due to the many guardrails that are in place that force researchers to disclose the underlying assumptions of their work, their conflicts of interest, and the limitations of their studies. This does not make scientists apolitical. In fact, while research in many fields may contribute to a common end that is not explicitly partisan in nature, scientists have intrinsic and extrinsic motivations for doing their work, and the structures that fund and promote scientific research are inextricably political. This relationship has become increasingly pronounced over the last few weeks as the current U.S. presidential administration has ordered a variety of changes at the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, the two agencies that represent the bulk of federally funded scientific research.

While bias has become a dirty word, one associated with unfairness, the goal of reducing bias in any profession should not be to stamp it out. Science generally has the right idea: the goal of bias reduction is not complete objectivity, but instead to disclose, disclose, disclose.

In the early 1900s, Japanese train attendants adopted an occupational safety method called “pointing and calling.” The idea was that, when a train was arriving or departing from a station, the driver, fireman, and other train attendants would point and call out each detail, like the signal status, current time, and train speed. This simple method was found to have reduced accidents by nearly 85% – the act of pointing at a signal and verbally announcing its status made the attendants consciously aware of something they would have otherwise passively noticed (and possibly misread). Consciously picking apart some benign assumptions and putting them into words can often have same effect as pointing and calling; you might make less mistakes and be less likely to act on negative biases. This isn’t foolproof – in many cases, even rigorous scientific studies can still be built on questionable premises, result in questionable conclusions, or overlook underrepresented populations of people – but being aware of the reasons behind our behaviors will allow us to cultivate experiences and relationships that are more genuine and valuable.

So far, I’ve been discussing bias at an individual level, but let me conclude by zooming out a bit:

Who was your phone made for? What kind of person were the designers of your phone thinking of when they made decisions about what it was going to look like, what it was going to be made of, and how it was going to function?

If you’re like me and have an iPhone, the designers at Apple were most likely designing for someone who is at least somewhat affluent and maybe not particularly tech-savvy; when they made the decision to use aluminum and glass in their case, they made the iPhone less appealing for someone who might need a more durable device because of their occupancy or maybe because of where they live.

I will be the first to admit I believe that tech should be inclusive of everyone, including people who are typically underrepresented. However, if Apple began changing aspects of the iPhone in order to appeal to customers that weren’t originally thought of in the design process, there would certainly be a subset of Apple customers that will have perceived those changes as Apple disrupting what they have come to be familiar with and enjoy in order to serve a customer base that does not include them. They are not wrong for thinking that way, and are simply understanding that situation from their own perspective, using the assumptions that have been reinforced by all of the other companies that have previously thought to cater to them and people like them. 

While some of those decisions that Apple made when originally designing the iPhone were intentional, I would be willing to bet that a great deal of them were made because of the identities of those particular designers. Those designers used their own perspectives and their own underlying assumptions to inform the way they designed a product that is marketed towards people with a vast number of different identities. You don’t have to be a creative or a designer to make this mistake. Many of us make similar mistakes every day, and the erosion of our ability to sense-make by openly discussing these decisions and why we make them is pernicious.

By paying closer attention to the assumptions that we make while we are making them, and by openly discussing our unique perspectives, we can all begin to create things together that appeal to more than just a small subset of individuals. The more perspectives we include in our professional and personal lives, the more likely we are to build and participate in a world that everyone can enjoy and that serves the needs of the many and not just the few. Whether you’re an innovator, a teacher, a creative, or a business person, we must all move beyond these veils of neutrality and disclose, disclose, disclose.