Book Review of Democratizing technology: risk, responsibility and
the regulation of chemicals, by Anne Chapman, London, Earthscan, 2007.
Journal of Risk Research, 12(7-8), 1035-1037.
What does the regulation of
chemicals have in common with the work of Hannah Arendt, the philosophy of
technology, or UK building regulations? In her book Democratizing
Technology, philosopher and environmental activist Anne Chapman brings
together a remarkable range of intellectual resources to question how we
assess technologies. In particular, she analyses the regulation of chemical
hazards under the EU programme for Registration, Evaluation, Authorisation
and Restriction of Chemical substances (REACH). Chapman convincingly shows
that what passes as objective and neutral risk assessment, actually rests on
politically charged and ethically disputed assumptions.
The systematic
regulation of chemical hazards has been a contested issue since at least the
1960s. Regulatory assessments of chemicals have slowly shifted towards more
precaution, hesitantly expanding the ‘endpoints’ considered in licensing
schemes: from acute to chronic toxicity, from lethality to carcinogen
effects, from mammals to wildlife, from physical harm to persistence. Every
expansion has been hard-fought and has only come about after long periods of
negotiation and stalling, with the watered-down REACH compromise as the
latest settlement in Europe.
Precautionary elements
have gradually proliferated throughout these regulatory schemes, but, as
Chapman points out, the basis of chemical regulation remains profoundly
utilitarian and liberal: the premise for any regulatory action is an
indication of harm. If no harm is to be expected, then no regulatory action
is required. The premise of regulation is one of freedom for the producer,
unless if the state needs to intervene to protect others – a basic liberal
principle. If there is sufficient reason to suspect harm, then harm must be
weighed against expected benefits of new chemicals. In essence, the format
for such an evaluation is that of a cost/benefit analysis, comparing
aggregate detrimental and beneficial effects, with a strong preference for
quantifiable ones.
Most the book is devoted
to extensive arguments against these principles. For example, Chapman
questions the validity of the individualist logic at the root of the liberal
case. Not only does she mobilise communitarian challenges against the
liberal autonomous individual, but, more importantly, she questions the
equation of corporations with the individual, which liberalism is so eager
to protect from state power. Consequently, the book explores notions of
(corporate) responsibility to see how they can resolve the difficulties of
holding corporations and government institutions to account.
A second objection that
Chapman raises is that ‘risk assessment’ does not adequately address the
problem of ignorance. If harm needs to be identified in order to take
regulatory action, then lack of knowledge can work in favour of inaction.
She points out that the problem with new chemicals is, precisely, that we do
really not know in what unexpected ways they will interact with each other,
nor with the complex processes of the planet. We may have safety factors or
assessment protocols that extrapolate toxicity to untested organisms or that
extend exposure duration, but we cannot reliably apply assessment factors to
completely unforeseen types of effect. Chapman mentions CFCs and the ozone
hole, or endocrine disruptors as examples. Current regulatory practices for
environmental chemicals rely on ad hoc monitoring practices (in contrast to
pharmaceutical reporting of side effects, for example), effectively turning
the planet into a testing ground. Lack of knowledge may constitute
‘riskiness’, even when there is no risk in the narrow sense of the term.
Chapman argues that we should consider this riskiness rather than just risk
and I think she has point here.
Another objection
against the liberal foundations of chemical regulation is the limited range
of effects that are considered harmful. Following liberal principles of
legality, only explicitly codified harms are taken into account for
licensing, such as human and environmental toxicity. This is the basis of a
stubborn misunderstanding between industry and NGOs in the chemicals debate,
as well as in conflict over genetically modified organisms, biofuels, and
increasingly also nanotech: industry claims a ‘no harm’ case, while civil
society is concerned about harms that do not even appear on the regulatory
radar. Such effects include changed relations between farmers and their
industrial suppliers, shifts in North-South power balances, or threats to
food diversity. While corporations claim that such issues are not their
responsibility, building on a liberal constitution of society, civil society
insists that these issues should be considered somewhere, while
governments claim problems are already addressed by existing regulatory
regimes. The result is a stubborn mutual misinterpretation, much of it
strategic and intentional.
The alternative Chapman
suggests starts from republican rather than liberal values. While a liberal
constitution promises its members freedom from coercion, republicanism
stresses freedom as responsibility for the common good, while aiming to
avoid domination. This is where Hannah Arendt comes in, insisting on our
responsibility for the common good, the res publica beyond the sum
total of individual interests, even if we do not agree on what this common
good is. This seems very remote from chemicals, but the most impressive
achievement of Chapman´s book is that it establishes stepping-stones in the
river that separates political theory from alternative chemical risk
regulation.
Chapman points out that
technologies, including chemicals, are world building: they change our
living conditions, intentionally or unintentionally. As the philosophy of
technology points out, they ease our life, change the setting for relations
between people, and make life harder for some of us. Thus technologies
change the state of the res publica, even if they do not cause harm
in the narrow sense of risk assessment. The stepping-stones Chapman suggests
are seven republican principles for assessing technologies, which will sound
very alien to current risk assessors. For example, one is that technology
should facilitate human interaction. Another is that technology should
enable responsible individual action and should not increase dependency, or
that technology should produce beautiful, durable things. These principles
do not prescribe how the common good should be shaped, but rather specify
repertoires for discussing it.
What would these
principles look like in practice? This is where the last element of this
remarkable effort comes in. Chapman shows how UK building regulations and
planning laws allow for a more positive conception of the common good,
rather than a negatively defined freedom. In the end, I found this parallel
wanting. The book raises expectations for concrete policy suggestions, but
ultimately fails to produce realistic proposals. The republican principles
are only stepping-stones and definitely not a bridge just yet. Nevertheless,
I do believe that this is an important attempt to create new regulatory
principles for chemicals, where most criticism so far has remained firmly
sheltered in the trenches of opposition. I hope that others would explore
what can be built on these foundations.
So there you have it:
the remarkable journey that leads past REACH chemicals, Hannah Arendt, the
philosophy of technology, and UK building regulations. I will leave you to
explore some of the many other stations on this thought-provoking journey.
Author Posting. (c) Informaworld/Routledge, 2009. This is the
author's version of the work. It is posted here by permission of
Informaworld/Routledge for personal use, not for redistribution. The
definitive version was published in Journal of Risk Research, Volume 12
Issue 7, December 2009. doi:10.1080/13669870903123298 (http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/13669870903123298)