Catastrophe: Risk and Response, by Richard A. Posner

This is a surprising, challenging and deeply worrying book. It takes as its problem the identification and governance of catastrophic risks as they appear in the 21st century. Especially singled out are those risks associated with bioterrorism, global warming, genetic modification of crops, loss of biodiversity, nuclear warfare and technology and the unforeseen effects of such experimental scientific developments as nanomachines and strangelets. Although also focusing on low-probability high-magnitude threats, such as are posed by asteroid strikes, Posner identifies these catastrophic risks as particularly concerning because while the scale and reach of their effects is all too imaginable, they are often ‘intractable to conventional analytic methods’ (p. 8). This is because of radical uncertainty about their magnitude and their likelihood, and because the value to be placed on their effects—up to and including the total extinction of humanity—is difficult to calculate, or more specifically, to monetarise. This last point is critical, for much of his analysis is concerned precisely with how to carry out a cost-benefit analysis under such conditions and in light of this analysis, how to respond. For Posner, cost-benefit analysis ‘is an indispensable step in rational decision making in this as in other areas of government regulation’ (p. 139). This is despite the fact that Posner himself admits that ‘defensible’ estimations of the monetary value to be placed on human life have a breadth and range that is ‘notable and disturbing’ (p. 171). Many might say this scotches the entire project. It does not seem very much of a concern to Posner that many might argue that this is because the entire exercise of costing mass extermination is repellent. Posner, in a hard-nosed fashion regards this not as an ethical issue, to be resolved by democratic politics, but one of economic calculation to be resolved by ‘further research.’ Posner takes on this task of thinking through a cost-benefit approach in light of his judgement that ‘law, policy and the social sciences’ are not ‘taking the catastrophic risks seriously and addressing them constructively’ (p. 8). This statement is profoundly concerning because, as will be clear to those working in the social sciences, this has been a topic of concentrated and sustained analysis and an enormous debate since the late 1980s. Posner seems completely oblivious to this fact. In particular, the analyses centred on the work of Ulrich Beck's Risk Society (Beck, 1992) have taken as their problem precisely those ‘modernization risks’ that are the unforeseen and ‘incalculable’ products of the rapid and ungoverned advance of science. Much of Beck's work, in particular, is concerned precisely with how to analyse, govern and respond to ‘risks’ that are not amenable to probabilistic calculation (e.g. Beck, 1997, 2002; Wynne, 1996). Posner's failure to address—or even recognise—this large and lively literature perhaps stems from his own assumption that by the term ‘social sciences’ he appears to mean economics. Perhaps, this is because he would not regard the kinds of analysis and solution offered in the sociological literature as addressing the issues ‘constructively.’ Beck e.g. would almost certainly deny the validity or viability of most of Posner's calculations. In particular, Beck's assertion is that the nature of the catastrophes threatening us are such that they cannot be compensated for, which means that no price tag can be placed on them. This would cut completely across the foundations of Posner's cost-benefit calculus which attempts to place a price on the lives of very large numbers of people. It would also cut across most of Posner's solutions. For example, Posner argues that while the potential for sciences to generate catastrophic harms should be governed by law, most lawyers and judges do not have the scientific knowledge that enables them to comprehend the nature and the implications of problematic developments. Posner suggests that science should be built into law degrees in order to produce at least a cadre of scientifically competent judges to staff-dedicated ‘science courts.’ Let us put aside the obvious objection that a smattering of undergraduate science might not put judges in a position to comprehend the intricacies of nanotechnology, the science of strangelets or any of the multitude of other highly arcane cutting-edge developments. From the point of view of critical sociologists, Posner's solution—and much of his analysis—may be depicted as elitist and technocratic. Experts of one sort or another, legal or scientific, are to determine the fate of the earth: the only question for Posner seems to be how to align their judgements. The claim of those in the critical social science literature would be not only that this expert domination is how the problem arose in the first place, but that a key characteristic of the current era is that experts— even scientists—do not agree on the probabilities and magnitudes of risks. For Posner, this does not emerge as a major issue, perhaps because of his unsophisticated Popperian vision of science in which the truth element in disagreements will be sorted out by rigorous competition. It is exactly the view one might expect of an analyst for whom the touchstone of truth appears to be the market place and its forms of calculation. But according to critical social analysts, the fundamental disagreements between experts nowadays follow precisely from the nature of the catastrophic risks that are being created. Such risks frequently cannot be given probabilities, and escape scientific prediction—they are radically uncertain. Moreover—as with global warming and holes in the ozone layer—their existence does not become apparent until much of the harm already has been done. In this view, we are now in a realm where expertise has few credentials upon which to base a right to govern; nor can we afford the luxury of waiting for Popperian truth games to produce the ‘right’ answer. Had Posner consulted some of the literature of critical sociology, he may have recognised that others have been wrestling with these problems for some time. This is not necessarily to argue that these critical sociologists are correct. Rather, it is to point to a debate that never arose in this book, and which should have—for it explores in a different fashion many of the problems Posner raises, and seemingly challenges most of the presuppositions on which Posner bases his solutions. I say ‘seemingly’ because there is a sense of disjuncture between the cost-benefit analysis of catastrophic risks and some of the solutions offered. In some cases, there is indeed a clear continuity. His analysis of using fiscal tools to govern global warming e.g. is clearly tied back to the same modes of economistic thinking that informed the first half of the book. Indeed, his conclusion—that an effective strategy would be to implement an emissions tax geared to inducing a desired level of investment in emission-reducing technologies—is highly persuasive. But in many of the other matters, the solutions appear rather to come out of the blue—or more precisely from an unannounced neo-conservative politics—rather than from the arguments leading up to this final section of the book. These include moving beyond the ‘relatively mild measures authorized by the USA PATRIOT Act’ (p. 234), which many would regard as rather severe. These manoeuvres include limiting science study in the United States by ‘mainly Muslim’ foreigners, and inducing other nations with programs in sensitive areas to participate in the ban. Key areas in this respect include molecular biology, computer science, nanotechnology, nuclear engineering and artificial intelligence. Other proposals include: the policing of scientists not only working in weapons programs, but also ‘scientists exploring technologies that can be used for destructive purposes’ (p. 224 emphasis in original); deterrent measures in the form of reprisals against the family members of bioterrorists (p. 235) and a serious flirtation with the use of torture (pp. 234–243). Posner repeatedly stresses that he is not advocating the use of torture, but rather is thinking about practices that are ‘not torture in the strongest sense.’ These include isolation, threats, shouting, truth serum, bright lights and lies. It is hard to tell which is more concerning: the fact that he closes this list by opining that the word ‘torture’ (p. 241) ‘has no settled meaning’ anyway, or the fact that he dismisses as ‘doctrinaire’ those civil libertarians who would resort to the Constitution to prevent such developments. The matter at issue is not so much that Posner's positions are without justification. He makes some very persuasive cases for many of his arguments. Rather, it is that the overriding sense that comes through the last segments of this book is that the ends justify the means, and that the more catastrophic the risks, the more a license is created to intervene in catastrophic ways. It is, of course, a philosophy that is promulgated by the Bush administration. But more to the point, it is a philosophy that emerges from a specific political mindset. It should not, in my view be represented as the outcome of some kind of ‘social scientific’ reasoning.

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