Anonymous

At first glance, this case may lead the reader to focus on common practices between students and mentors. Traditionally, an adviser reviews graduate students' proposals before the proposal is presented publicly. Dr. Edgar did read and revise Janet's proposal, but he then failed to properly advise her and prepare her for the proposal defense. However, the ethical dilemma in this case is not only the one that Janet faces, but also the dilemma that Dr. Edgar faces.

This scenario was written with two goals in mind: 1) to promote discussion between graduate students and faculty on student-mentor relationships and 2) to encourage discussion between academicians about professional responsibility. Since this case involves two different issues, it would be useful to address each of these issues separately.

Student-Mentor Relationship

One common problem that arises between graduate students and their advisers is that the two parties fail to discuss their responsibilities and roles at the outset. Since both the graduate student and adviser have responsibilities to each other and to the other faculty, establishing rules at the beginning of the student-mentor relationship might avoid negative consequences for both concerned parties later.

Question 1 was written to encourage discussion of the responsibilities involved in the student-teacher relationship by focusing on Dr. Edgar's behavior toward Janet. Clearly, Dr. Edgar misinformed Janet about the seriousness of the proposal meeting. He also failed to inform the committee how he advised Janet. Dr. Edgar omits the fact that he gave the revisions to Janet just a few hours before the meeting and that he was even aware of the design flaw in an earlier draft.

Should Dr. Edgar own up to his responsibilities? Or is it Janet's responsibility to inform her committee about Dr. Edgar's late revisions?

How would the answer to Question 1 change if Janet were in her last year of graduate school? Or if her funding were cut off as a result of this meeting? Conversely, how would the reader's opinion change if we find that Janet is a student who does sloppy work? Is it still Dr. Edgar's responsibility to help Janet in her progress through the program?

According to a recent report produced by the Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy, the mentor's primary goal or obligation is to further the student's education (National Academy of Sciences, National Academy of Engineering and Institute of Medicine, 1997). Thus, Dr. Edgar not only has a responsibility to help Janet through the program, but he has an obligation (regardless of other commitments) to help her through. Graduate students and faculty advisers assume different roles within the department and the university, and these roles might conflict. In this case, Dr. Edgar is Janet's adviser, but he also is now an administrator at the university. His conflicting roles create time pressure in his life and take time away from each other.

The reader could be asked how this situation would change if Dr. Edgar did not have an administrative position. Certainly it would be easier for Janet and Dr. Edgar to work together because Dr. Edgar would have one less role at the university. But the reality is that professors have many roles. Oftentimes they have to spend less time on research and advising duties to complete committee or administrative work. Question 2 was written to encourage discussion about how the role of adviser should be maintained. Professors often accept new students that they do not really have time for and spend very little time with. Perhaps Dr. Edgar should not have accepted Janet and the new position in administration at the same time. Effective advisers are good listeners, good observers and good problem solvers (NAS et al., 1997). In addition, effective advisers keep in touch with each graduate and respects the goals and interests of good students. Thus, regardless of Dr. Edgar's new position, one of his responsibilities is advising graduate students, and he should assume this role with commitment and dedication.

Professional Responsibility

After learning that Tom experienced a similar situation, Janet decides that it is her professional responsibility to inform the department head of Dr. Edgar's behavior. Questions 4, 5, 6 and 7 all focus on this issue of professional responsibility. These questions were written to explore whether the consequences of Dr. Edgar's behavior (both for Janet and Tom) should influence Janet's decision to speak to the head.

The reader should consider whether Dr. Edgar is a tenured faculty member. If he is untenured, then Janet's decision can affect his future at that department. Should his mentoring abilities (or lack of abilities) affect his ability to obtain tenure?

In addition, Janet's decision will affect her own future. Most likely she will no longer be advised by Dr. Edgar, and she might eventually feel forced to leave the department.

Consider Dr. Edgar's position. What is it like to face your fellow faculty members after realizing your faults as an adviser? Should Janet give Dr. Edgar some consideration before approaching the department head? The answer to this question is, of course, yes. I am not arguing that Janet should behave altruistically or even that she should do unto others as she would have others do unto her. However, her position at the university is dependent on Dr. Edgar. So most likely she will ruin or, at the very least, damage her career by reporting Dr. Edgar.

A final position to consider in this case, in terms of professional responsibility, is Dr. Smith's position. As head of the department, is it his responsibility to look after Janet's concerns? If Dr. Edgar is untenured, is it fair to Dr. Edgar to bring this issue before the tenure committee? Dr. Smith's position is tenuous. Suppose he is elected by the faculty. Does he have the same responsibilities to the graduate students as he does to the faculty?

In summary, this case concerns two general issues -- the student-mentor relationship and professional responsibilities. With both issues, all positions and relationships should be considered before Janet can make a final decision. However, it is fairly clear that Janet must do something. She must find a way to protect her career interests and to address these issues without purposefully damaging Dr. Edgar's career.

References

• National Academy of Sciences, National Academy of Engineering, and Institute of Medicine. Adviser, Teacher, Role Model, Friend: On Being a Mentor to Students in Science and Engineering. Washington, D. C.: National Academy Press, 1997.

Expectations and Responsibilities of Interested Parties

Options for Actions and Arguments for Acting

Arguments for Doing Nothing

Expectations and Responsibilities of Interested Parties

New graduate students will have certain expectations from their advisers, such as guidance and training. When problems arise, most students assume the faculty member can offer support. Anna initially assumes that her relationship with Professor Creasin is fiduciary, and that each of them is receiving mutual benefits based on an implied trust. After their discussion in Professor Creasin's office, it is clear that their relationship is more paternalistic with Professor Creasin assuming he will make decisions on this issue. Anna is concerned about the safety of others in the lab, including Dan and Professor Creasin. She must also think of physical harm to the other lab students, particularly the students using the range top oven, as well as herself and her fetus. Future graduate students could be exposed to the lead compound, as well as other people who have reason to walk through the laboratory space. Additionally, Anna has reason to be concerned with the economic status of low-income graduate students who are financially dependent on Professor Creasin. Anna also has a responsibility to Dr. Moore to inform him of situations she is now trained to recognize as unsafe. Anna's final concern is directed toward Professor Creasin's university appointment, since she has agreed to work under his guidance and do research for him that supports his overall goals. Anna also has expectations about her own career goals and financial security while enrolled in graduate school. She has reason to be concerned that these could be compromised if she is forced to report the situation to the Materials Safety and Policy Department against Professor Creasin's wishes.

Professor Creasin has many responsibilities toward his students, including ensuring their safety and providing the funding that he has promised. While his primary concern should be with the health and safety of his students, he seems to be most concerned with the status of his tenure and research papers. His progress also affects his students, since their work would most likely be discontinued if he were to leave State U.

Professor Creasin knowingly violated safe lead levels and failed to comply with biohazard research regulations. Professor Creasin is also aware that students eat and cook food in a laboratory setting. The drilling of the solid compound is another unacceptable practice due to creation of airborne particles. Professor Creasin describes these unsafe practices as "a small problem" and says he will consider looking into the situation only after his tenure is assured. Correcting the situation would inconvenience him financially and professionally.

Professor Creasin expects that his students will work for him, since he is supporting them financially, and that they will contribute to his research. He expects to have the final decision on matters in conflict, and he assumes that the students will not go over his head when there is a disagreement.

Dan expects to benefit from the publication of ground-breaking research and assumes that the project will continue. He will lose time and effort if the project were shut down. He expects Professor Creasin to act as a mentor to him, and he assumes that he will think of Dan's safety and well being. Dan's main concern is unknown. He could be very upset with Professor Creasin for allowing unsafe lead levels, or he might agree that the deviations are irrelevant and, since he will only be working on the project for a limited time, the professional gain will outweigh these risks.

Options for Actions and Arguments for Acting

Anna has several choices, the simplest of which is doing nothing. Frequently the best choice is not the easiest. Anna appears to have taken the safety lectures seriously. She has made an initial attempt to correct the situation by informing Professor Creasin of the safety hazard. She also notices that students are using the oven in an unsafe manner when she returns to the lab. Although she is a new graduate student, she has probably witnessed this practice before, but she was unaware of the hazards of airborne lead particles. The other students have not benefitted from the safety seminar and probably assume that cooking in the oven is safe. There is now a differential in knowledge between Anna and the other students. The only other person who is informed about the hazard is Professor Creasin, and he will not be pursuing the problem for a while, if at all.

Keeping quiet does not seem to be the option that Anna would be the most comfortable with, in light of the problems it can mean for her and the other students. If Anna believes that she can still maintain a fiduciary relationship with Professor Creasin, than she could try approaching him again with notes she has taken from the seminar, explaining that these are the guidelines set up by Dr. Moore and not her own arbitrary standards. Anna is now forced to decide whether she will break the relationship by speaking to someone in authority about her concerns or succumb to the pressure Professor Creasin is placing on her.

An intermediate option is to tell all of the graduate students in the lab about the safety lectures and not mention her discussion with their faculty adviser. This course of action allows Anna to remove the knowledge differential and makes all the students responsible for their own decisions. If Anna does not mention that she has spoken with Professor Creasin, she can later say that she spoke to the students before he told her not to mention it to anyone else. Although she would be intentionally lying, it can be argued that the moral rule of not hurting others imposes a higher burden than not lying. Although lying about when the students were told the truth and intentionally failing to inform the students about the safety risks can both be classified as deception, utilitarian ethics would classify the lie as less deceptive. Although Anna would be lying to Professor Creasin, the greatest good might arise from informing the students.

Professor Creasin has deceived the students in his lab. He designed the experiment even though he realized that it would be potentially harmful to the student working on it and other students in the vicinity. His anger implies he might retaliate against Anna if she were to blow the whistle; retaliation would fall under the category of misconduct. The consequences of Professor Creasin's unsafe practices can harm individuals inside and outside of the lab setting.

Arguments for Doing Nothing

The case study is written from the perspective of a single person, Anna. It is Anna who considers Professor Creasin to be petty and easily upset. Only Anna attended the seminar and had the initial perception that a problem existed. Anna has not yet discussed the problem with Dr. Moore, so her conclusions are based only on information from the seminar. Professor Creasin has explained to her that the violation is only a small problem and that he will look into it later. Perhaps Anna has been wrong about her assessments of Professor Creasin and the problem with the lead. Perhaps he will correct the situation at the end of the semester. Professor Creasin has more knowledge about the material science field in general and specifically with the experiment that he designed. Anna stands to lose her relationship with Professor Creasin and disrupt the lab during an investigation if her analysis of the situation is incorrect.

This case is intended for a graduate level audience in any field of investigative research. Researchers can become very protective of their own work. Their ultimate goals do no necessarily depend on the success of their peers. Credit is often assigned to a few, maybe only one person - the fewer the persons, the more prestige. A successful dissertation also requires sufficient results. At the same time, it is vital that the research group work well together. A lot depends on a successful working relationship, including the group's reputation, advancement of research and, ultimately, getting publications/grants.

What this case really gets at is the issue of ownership of ideas. Ideas are (in theory) cannot be copyrighted or patented, and university research should be open and available to all (a debatable point). Most professors would probably read this case and state at worst, "There is no problem here," or at best, "The problem is just a lack of communication." The professor often believes that he/she owns the work and that problems of this sort should be solved by the group members. Graduate students implicitly have very little power when it comes to owning ideas; however, they do have a lot of work at stake in these ideas. In many cases, interpersonal relations within the group are not a sufficient mechanism to solve these subtle ownership issues.

The case is designed to start discussion about the hierarchy of control within a group - who should control research, what should be understood by every group member about the mechanism of control? Research groups have many implied social and professional arrangements. It is important to know who is in charge and to what degree they control the work before one begins a research project.

Swen's action, while it seemed innocent enough to him, has harmed members of the group. Discussion should involve the consequences of Swen's decision, which should help to illustrate the potential problems. One obvious problem is that Jeremy will now receive credit for part of Beverly's original idea. This acclamation is valuable and raises the issues as to what type of value can be used to qualify work at the university. Has Beverly been deprived of something valuable without her knowledge or consent? Furthermore, Swen has used his position to steal Beverly's ideas, in some sense. To what degree this is theft is debatable. Swen's obvious motive or whether he had prior knowledge of Beverly's attachment to her work does not really change this essential question.

A poster on the door of a biologist's office reads, "You wouldn't be here to protest animal experimentation, if it weren't for animal experimentation." Whether or not that statement is true, we all enjoy the benefits of animal experimentation. The drugs we take were tested first on animals. Many medical advances that guide physicians and prolong our lives owe their discovery to the animal "models" chosen by the researchers. But is that right?

A philosopher friend of mine described a thought experiment he conducted to answer the question. Suppose you were in a room with fifty puppies. In the next room were all of the members of your family being held hostage by terrorists. You could foresee the future (important since terrorists are not to be trusted), and you knew that the terrorists would turn themselves over to the authorities and release your family unharmed, if you submitted to their demand to break the necks of all fifty puppies. He said that he would do it. He argued that this situation was analogous to animal experimentation and clarified the value of human life.

But what if the puppies were human babies? There is a strong tendency to want to preserve human life over animal life and to preserve familiar lives preferentially. But should feelings and beliefs be our ethical guides? I would like cold, hard reason to guide these sorts of decisions. In the case of the puppies, it is clear that losing one's entire family would be a greater personal loss for most people than losing fifty cute but unfamiliar dogs. I'm sure one could get over the trauma of killing the dogs with the help of family. From a personal perspective, the best decision is to kill the dogs.

That seems to be the level at which almost all moral reasoning occurs: the personal level. One usually chooses the answer first and then seeks to justify it using argument. If one steps back a little from the personal and looks at moral scenarios as an outsider, then the apparent clarity of moral problems begins to disappear. If one were not human, what would be the correct answer in the puppy problem? Is it right to kill fifty members of Species A to serve ten members of Species B?

There is a genuine lack of objective criteria for the ethical treatment of living beings. What exactly is it that makes it acceptable to perform experiments on certain animals, but not on people? Biologists have found many similarities among animals. We all have cells. Many of our main tissue types are nearly identical across family lines. There are also many differences, of course. But which of these differences are important in determining which types of experiments (if any) are acceptable if performed on a given animal? Unfortunately, animal experimentation may be necessary to provide the information that will enable us to answer these sorts of ethical questions.

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The Belmont Report: Ethical Principles and Guidelines for the Protection of Human Subjects of Research, issued in 1979, elucidates three comprehensive principles that are relevant to the ethical practice of human subjects research: 1) respect for persons, 2) beneficence and 3) justice. The first principle, respect for persons, is particularly relevant to the question of deception in research. The report claims that "respect for persons demands that subjects enter into the research voluntarily and with adequate information" (p. 4). It goes on to apply this principle to formulate the requirement that subjects must give their informed consent to participate in research. This requirement of full and complete disclosure is waived, however, when

informing subjects of some pertinent aspect of the research is likely to impair the validity of the research. In many cases, it is sufficient to indicate to subjects that they are being invited to participate in research of which some features will not be revealed until the research is concluded. Such research is justified only if it is clear that 1) incomplete disclosure is truly necessary to accomplish the goals of the research, 2) undisclosed risks to subjects are no more than minimal, and 3) there is an adequate plan for debriefing subjects, when appropriate, and for dissemination of research results to them. (p. 6)

The report uses the phrase "incomplete disclosure" to indicate that its criteria apply not only to instances of outright deception in research but also to cases in which the researcher has misled subjects or has given them only partial information. I use the term "deception" here to describe all such situations in which subjects consent to participate in research on the basis of less-than-complete information. My analysis does not include an admittedly relevant question, whether the degree of disclosure makes a difference in deciding the ethical questions. In each of the cases outlined above, the researcher proposes to use some form of deception as a way of obtaining valid research results. Following, I analyze each of the three cases in light of the Belmont Report's criteria for ethically responsible research involving deception of subjects.

In Case 1, the researcher justifies deception on the grounds that awareness of her purposes will bias subjects' responses. Research in the field of social psychology has demonstrated that subjects' self-reports of attitudes can be influenced by a number of factors, including the subjects' desire to please the experimenter. It seems, therefore, that the research in this case meets the report's first criterion, that incomplete disclosure is necessary to accomplish the purposes of the research. The proposed research also meets the second and third criteria: This sort of attitude research does not seem to involve potential harm to subjects, and the researcher has included a plan for debriefing subjects following their participation.

Cases 2 and 3 similarly seem to require an element of deception to accomplish the purposes of the research. In Case 2, the study of conformity requires that subjects not be fully informed, or their behavior would not be spontaneous. The same reasoning applies to Case 3 -- subjects who knew that the research was measuring helping behavior quite naturally would help! Cases 2 and 3 differ, however, on the second criterion, undisclosed risks that offer the potential of harm to subjects. The research on group conformity is not likely to pose a risk to subjects; they are merely discussing a controversial issue, then reporting their attitudes. The research on helping behavior, on the other hand, is likely to entail some degree of harm to subjects. The experimental setup involves placing subjects in a situation that requires a difficult choice (to act or not to act) and then complicating that choice with the powerful influence of others. The subjects are likely to experience mild to extreme distress in such a situation. Case 3, therefore, does not meet the Belmont Report's second criterion of avoiding all but minimal risk to subjects.

With regard to the principle of voluntary consent, both Cases 2 and 3 are suspect. The researcher is also the instructor for the course, which presents a dilemma for students who may be uncomfortable about participating in an experiment. Although the researcher has included an alternative to participation (the 50-page paper), does this option constitute a true alternative? That is, is the option of not participating equally palatable from the student's standpoint? Consider that students may choose to participate in the experiment in spite of their apprehension because the paper option presents a heavy addition to the students' workload when compared to the one-time, one-hour appointment with the researcher.

These issues are complicated when the debriefing of subjects is considered. In Case 2, I noted that this experiment on group conformity was not likely to entail harm to subjects. That is true of the experiment itself -- but possibly not true for the debriefing. The debriefing in this case may do what Diana Baumrind has called "inflicting insight" upon subjects (quoted in Murray, 1980): When they are told that the researcher was actually studying group conformity, subjects who conformed may gain knowledge of themselves they would prefer not to have. Participation in this experiment, for these subjects, provides direct evidence of character traits most of us like to think we don't hold. We believe that we have minds of our own, that we don't bend too easily to outside pressure, etc. Gaining knowledge to the contrary (which, remember, was knowledge that subjects did not consent to gain) may cause subjects embarrassment or a lowering of their self-esteem. The effects of debriefing in Case 3 are similar, but the ramifications of unrequested knowledge are potentially still more serious. It could be quite disturbing for subjects to learn that in an emergency, when someone else needs help, they could be so easily swayed to inaction. Again, subjects may attribute their behavior in the experiment to flaws of character; unknown to the experimenter, some subjects may already struggle with low self-esteem, and their participation in such an experiment could be devastating. Only in the first case is debriefing not likely to introduce or add to the potential of psychological harm to subjects.

We have, therefore, complicated our consideration of the criteria for ethically responsible research involving deception, particularly in Cases 2 and 3. The Belmont Report's second and third criteria appear to conflict: The debriefing process, which is intended in part to "consolidate the educational and therapeutic value" (Sieber, 1992, 39) of research for subjects, is in fact an element of the research that either introduces or magnifies the risk of harm to subjects. Clearly too, deception research violates the principle of informed consent: Subjects in such cases may be understandably angry when the debriefing process "inflicts insight" about themselves that they neither wished to nor consented to gain.

Note that the report's third criterion includes "an adequate plan for debriefing subjects, when appropriate" [emphasis added]. We might conclude that when debriefing introduces or magnifies harm to subjects, as it does in Cases 2 and 3, a debriefing procedure is inappropriate. In such cases, it may be better for subjects not to know what was really being measured by the study. However, the problem of paternalism arises in judging for the subjects what constitutes a harm, and in deciding what is "best" for them. Further, this position seems to violate the concept of respect for persons, a central principle of ethically responsible research with human subjects. In addition to its educational and therapeutic value, the debriefing process also seems to be a gesture of respect for the subjects of research, built on the understanding that subjects have a right to know the true nature of the research in which they participated. We are then left with a difficult choice between introducing or magnifying the risk of harm to subjects by a debriefing process, or sending subjects on their way, never knowing what was actually done to them, an unpalatable option for responsible researchers who believe in honesty in research and who regard "subjects" as partners in the research process.

Options exist, however, for making such a choice, if still difficult, at least less difficult. A sensitive debriefing can go a long way toward alleviating the psychological harm that the process may introduce to subjects. In Case 2, the researcher could make clear that the responses of subjects who conformed are in no way unusual and could briefly explain some of the mechanisms that make group influence so powerful. In Case 3, again, the researcher should point out to subjects that the majority of those studied did not help. The researcher should summarize the research done to date on helping behavior and outline what is known about why people do not help in emergencies. In both cases, an explanation of how the current research is expected to add to the knowledge of group conformity or of helping behavior and a brief statement of the ways in which greater knowledge of these social phenomena may benefit others will also increase subjects' sense of well-being following the experiment.

Another option to minimize the risks of deception research is to anticipate some of the difficulties and adopt a research plan including a milder form of deception. Sieber (1992, 67-68) notes that deception in research takes one of five forms, with each succeeding form removing more of the subjects' right to self-determination and lessening the knowledge that is the basis for their consent to participate:

1. informed consent to participate in one of various conditions: subjects know that they will not know which research condition they will participate in (e.g., treatment or control, experimental drug or placebo);
2. consent to deception: subjects know there is some aspect of the study that will not be fully disclosed;
3. consent to waive the right to be informed: subjects waive their right to be informed and thus are not told of the possibility of deception;
4. consent and false informing: subjects give consent but are falsely informed about the nature of the research;
5. no informing and no consent: subjects do not know they are subjects in any form of research (as when "real-life" situations are studied, or a seemingly real incident is contrived and then observed).

Each of the three cases analyzed here could be considered an example of consent and false informing: In each case, subjects have given consent but are not told what is actually being studied. Case 1 illustrates what one might consider a mild form of false informing -- that is, subjects are not fully informed because of the vagueness of the explanation of the study's purpose, but neither are they lied to outright. Yet because subjects have not consented to any form of deception (They do not know they are not being given full and adequate information), the case is still an example of consent and false informing. Cases 2 and 3 are clear-cut examples of consent and false informing.

The question then becomes, "Could the research purposes in these three cases be accomplished by employing a 'lesser form' of deception, one that preserves to a greater degree subjects' rights of self-determination and knowledge of the research?" In Case 1, it is questionable whether the accuracy of subjects' attitudinal responses would be compromised if they knew that the researcher could not tell them exactly what was being measured. If they were told that they weren't "getting the whole story," would their responses differ from the responses they would make when they were trying to guess at the purpose of the research? It seems that a milder form of deception might be feasible in Case 1; a well-informed researcher must make that judgment. In Cases 2 and 3, it is more difficult to imagine that any milder form of deception than consent and false informing would result in subjects behaving as they would when they were unaware of the study's purposes. In the study on helping behavior, if subjects were at all aware that they had not been fully informed, they would be quite likely to recognize immediately that the "emergency" was contrived. In the study on group conformity, it is possible that subjects would be so busy trying to figure out what was really being measured that they would not behave at all spontaneously or naturally in the group. It seems, then, that in at least two of the cases, the research cannot be accomplished without deception that limits subjects' autonomy.

However, a further determination must be made before the use of deception in research can be justified. The Belmont Report does not consider the worth of the research as a criterion for justifying the employment of deception. The report's criteria exclude any deception research that involves risks to subjects that are "more than minimal." Notice, however, that in this group of cases, as the risks to subjects escalate in severity, the potential benefits of the research increase as well. The study involving the greatest risk of harm to subjects, the helping behavior study, has enormous potential for increasing our understanding of the reasons people fail to help in emergencies, thereby increasing the possibility that we can develop strategies to combat those reasons. The research on group conformity has potentially beneficial aspects as well -- in increasing our understanding of the ways in which gangs operate, for example. It seems that in making decisions to undertake research involving deception, the potential costs to subjects must be weighed against the potential benefits for society.

Such a judgment is difficult to make. As Sieber (1992) points out, it is not always possible to identify risks and benefits in advance, and those that are identified are often not quantifiable. How does one weigh present harm to one individual against potential future benefits for many individuals? Sieber suggests that "common sense, a review of the literature, knowledge of research methodology, ethnographic knowledge of the subject population, perceptions of pilot subjects and gatekeepers, experience from serving as a pilot subject oneself, and input from researchers who have worked in similar research settings" (1992, 76) should all inform the assessment of risks and benefits. Imperfect as such judgments may be, they must be made. Trivial research involving any degree of harm to subjects is certainly unjustified; important research, on the other hand, may generate such benefits as to be worth some degree of harm (minimized and alleviated as much as possible) to subjects. The key is that the researcher should not be the sole authority in deciding when benefits outweigh risks: "[N]o single source can say what potential risks and benefits inhere in a particular study. . . . The benefit and justifiability of research depend on the whole nature of the research process and on the values of the persons who judge the research." (Sieber, 1992, 76-77)

Once we agree that the benefits and risk of research involving deception must be assessed together, we must consider what those benefits and risks may be. The discussion above identifies some potential benefits of the cases described here and some of the risks to subjects as well. Researchers must also be mindful of less obvious risks when considering research involving deception. These risks do not concern the potential for harm to the subjects of research, but rather entail negative consequences of such research for the researcher and for the science of psychology itself.

In a self-revealing essay entitled "Learning to Deceive," Thomas H. Murray describes his discomfort at engaging in deception in the course of research he helped conduct as a graduate student in social psychology (a helping behavior study similar to the one described in Case 3). He notes of the debriefing procedure following this study, "While I did reveal the true purpose of the study, I did not always answer all questions honestly; and I seriously doubt that I, or anyone else, could have removed all negative effects of participation" (Murray, 1980, 12). After encountering in debriefing anxious subjects who were shaking, stuttering, barely able to speak, he continues, ". . . you try to forget the queasiness in their smiles, and the uncertainty in their handshakes. You try to convince yourself that, yes, all harmful effects have been removed. But I did not believe it then, and I do not today." (Murray, 1980, 12) Disturbing as such post-study encounters may be, however, Murray identifies what he believes to be a more insidious danger of deception in research: the danger that the researcher will come to adopt an attitude of callousness, to view subjects as means to an end, and to believe that the characteristics and reactions induced by experimental manipulations in fact describe the way people are. Murray asks, "In trying to make our laboratory so much like the world, do we sometimes succeed in making our world like the laboratory?. . . Do we eventually come to see people as so easily duped outside the laboratory as inside it? And if our research induces people to behave inhumanely, do we come to believe that that is indeed the way people are?" (Murray, 1980, 14)

Such negative consequences of research involving deception do not end with the experimenter, however. The science of social psychology can itself be affected by the methods adopted by its disciples. The more prevalent the practice of deception in social psychology, the more the science comes to be associated with the practice, leading to an erosion of public trust in scientists and their purposes in any area of research in the field. Greenberg and Folger (1988) document that some social psychologists have challenged the unquestioning adoption of deception strategies, claiming that the "pool" of naive subjects grows smaller as populations, especially those such as college students who are often called on to participate in research, begin to expect to be deceived, thereby casting doubt on the validity of experimental findings. They also note that the public may acquire an attitude of distrust and suspicion regarding laboratories, scientists and even a profession that relies heavily on deception to make its progress.

A shocking incident at the Seattle campus of the University of Washington in 1973 illustrates one danger of such a widespread awareness of deceptive research methods in psychology. Students on their way to class witnessed a shooting and neither stopped to help the victim nor followed the assailant; when questioned later, some witnesses reported that they thought the incident was a psychology experiment! (Greenberg and Folger, 1988, 48). Although the criticism that "real-life" experiments lead to incidents such as the one above could be leveled as well at the movie and television industry, the example illustrates that deception in research has ramifications both for the subjects and for the science that extend beyond the time and place of the studies for which it is employed.

The discussion above, centered on three cases, illustrates why deception is employed as a research strategy and why its use has been called into question. Some of the dangers of deception are identified for the subjects, for the researcher, and for the science itself. Yet Greenberg and Folger (1988, 56) report eight studies that have indicated that subjects are bothered less about being deceived in the course of research than are the IRBs that review the proposals. If these findings are accurate, is more debate being raised about deception in research than is warranted? I believe that such findings add another element for consideration in the assessment of risks and benefits of research involving deception, but they do not eliminate the need for such consideration. Subjects in some kinds of experiments may not "mind" being deceived, but subjects participating in others may mind very much. In addition, subjects may not always recognize immediately, or ever, the subtle effects of such experimentation on their self-esteem, for example, or on their evaluations of social psychology and of scientists in general. We cannot dismiss the possibility that deception in research may have negative consequences for both subjects and researchers as well as for the science. Scientists considering deception have a responsibility to consider the costs with the benefits, and to minimize unavoidable costs wherever possible should they decide ultimately to deceive their research subjects.

References

• Greenberg, Jerald, and Folger, Robert. Controversial Issues in Social Research Methods. Springer Series in Social Psychology. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1988.
• Murray, Thomas H. "Learning to Deceive." Hastings Center Report 10 (April 1980): 11-14.
• The National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research. The Belmont Report: Ethical Principles and Guidelines for the Protection of Human Subjects of Research. Washington, D. C. : Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, 1979.
• Sieber, Joan E. Planning Ethically Responsible Research: A Guide for Students and Internal Review Boards. Applied Social Research Methods Series, Vol. 31. Newbury Park, Calif.: SAGE Publications, Inc., 1992.

Issue 1

Issue 2

Issue 3

Issue 4

Issue 5

Issue 6

General Issues

Further Reading

Issue 1

1. The issue of desecration is complex: Do actions constitute desecration, or do intentions? If remains are accidentally excavated -- e.g., when clearing land for a road -- is collection of that material desecration? Students should consider whether continued work on human remains is ethically justifiable once an interest in repatriation has been expressed.
2. and 3. Encouragement and discouragement play an important role in reinforcing and sanctioning behavior. Likewise, decisions on the allocation of resources are important ways to support or oppose projects. What should we do when we see a colleague entering an ethically gray area? What are our responsibilities and opportunities? This question allows for something other than an all-or-nothing approach. Stipulations on funding can enforce or encourage certain behaviors while bringing about a compromise. Displays can be prohibited, for example, or sponsors might require the blessing of a tribal shaman or approval from tribal authorities. Many options are available; encourage students to explore them.
3. It is important to note that not all Native Americans demand the return of remains for reburial. Some -- whether few or many is unclear -- are indifferent; some want remains studied then returned; others want preservation in museums if remains are treated with respect. Interaction need not be hostile, and good faith cooperation is common. Joint efforts can lead to mutual benefit, even when tribes and institutions act deliberately in their own interests. For example, research can provide a tribe with cultural identity. Here anthropologists get research material for comparative analysis, and descendants acquire useful knowledge. Eventually, remains can be reburied.

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Issue 2

1. This question raises the issue of foot dragging, a common administrative response by people who disagree with a policy change. How do well-meaning people work in this kind of passive-aggressive environment? It is important here to keep Justus an actor with honest, positive motives but working in an environment (sometimes obvious, sometimes subtle) of less-than-forthright management. This puts a good actor in a difficult but realistic situation where she is an observer of ethical breaches and must respond, probably in a hostile climate.
2. One of the most difficult dilemmas facing researchers who have accepted repatriation in principle is deciding when materials should be returned -- immediately upon request, after detailed analysis, after casting, etc. Arguments can be made to support each position. However, students of this case study should appreciate the potential for paternalism evident in the latter two options: only after a researcher has transferred the value of the material to a cast or data set is cooperation forthcoming. That most researchers support repatriation only in such cases -- i.e., only when the original bones are replaced with something that keeps the information intact -- can be a point of discussion among students. Likewise, it is not at all clear that transfer of value is an ethically appropriate response to repatriation. Exhibitions, for instance, often substitute copies of bones for originals. However, some critics believe that displaying these copies is equally reprehensible, arguing that copies of things are essentially like the things they replace. Additional arguments, based on spiritual issues, might claim part or all of an object's essence is transferred during the copying process, e.g., photographs might threaten theft of the soul. Simple copying turns out to be a less-than-simple option.
3. This discussion raises the general issues of whistleblowing and combining ethical and prudent actions in a possibly hostile environment. Even though Justus may not be doing anything wrong, she might be in a situation to observe serious ethical breaches. What should a person in this situation do? Be sure to ask students to consider what is at stake for Justus in these circumstances -- to act or not act or to go over her supervisor's head. Encourage them to see the situation through her eyes or to compare similar circumstances in other cases. This case also raises issues of disclosure and the appropriate pace of disclosing information.

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Issue 3

1. By design, this situation brings Justus into increasingly difficult positions. First, she will need to decide if the excavation was legitimate rescue work or unethical guerrilla excavation. If she believes it to be a legitimate rescue, she must decide, now that she is aware of repatriation policies, whether she needs permission from the Macaques to proceed and whether the museum can claim proprietorship of material collected and undisclosed in this way.
2. Sometimes it's easier to decide what clearly should not be done than it is to decide what should be done.
3. This discussion explicitly raises the issue of use of data that might be construed as ill-gotten gain. An extreme position in repatriation is that all archaeological and anthropological materials are ill-gotten gain (the result of unauthorized grave robbing), but before exploring that issue, begin with a less extreme example, especially if students believe the collection of this material is unethical or illegal. Students should be encouraged to consider larger issues of ill-gotten gain: medical experiments where data is collected without patient consent, experiments on prisoners or through torture, art history on stolen or looted art work, etc.

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Issue 4

1. Are felonies ever justifiable? Were Hops' stalling tactics provocative? The point here is to discuss whether her response should be assessed on the basis of the desired effect (return of the material) or on principle (no one contests that the Macaques ultimately have proprietary rights to the remains). Ethical and unethical decisions are not made in vacuums and have real implications for people. Decisions to act -- or not to act -- have downstream effects, and sometimes timing and impressions are crucial. What should be the connections between decisions on ethics (the way we should act) and actions (the way we do act)? Who is responsible when decisions trigger reactions that have negative consequences? Are Hops and the museum victims, or did they get what was coming to them? What about Ten Killer and Strong Jaw? This issue can also be raised in the context of animal rights, with lab break-ins, perhaps also to anti-abortion activism, chemical use, nuclear power, weapons research and medical research relating to HIV.
2. Explicit distinctions are drawn here between the letter and the spirit of the law, and between legal and ethical principles as the foundation for action.
3. Encourage students to separate short- vs. long-term issues and goals. This discussion offers a good opportunity for student participation, perhaps negotiation scenarios and role playing. Be sure also to discuss the different consequences of settling with enforced solutions and those growing from consensus.

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Issue 5

1. Resolving this issue may be more simple than students expect. The original intent of this section was to present a dispute over analysis rather than an issue of misconduct. Justus is confident in her analysis and should defend her expert opinion. Research involves the process of assessing competing interpretations. If Justus has confidence in her analysis and has managed to convince some colleagues, why should she back down? Options -- including some unethical ones -- are available to her, but they need not be pursued if she acts with confidence in her own work.

This point provides an opportunity to discuss power relations between junior (Justus) and senior (editor and reviewers) professionals: what Justus perceives, what her senior colleagues are hoping to impose, what she'll allow, and what she wants to create. Withdrawing the paper would mean total placation of senior scholars. How is the power dynamic at work here? What are student experiences in this regard? How is this situation best negotiated? The power relation is produced by a dialogue of different actors, where perceptions play crucial roles. Junior colleagues should be encouraged to engage in active negotiation regarding power relations, not just remain passive recipients or soldiers.

2. and 3. Justus has a variety of options, but they are constrained by issues relating to the destruction of unique and contested materials, human remains, and the destruction of materials without the explicit consent of those with proprietary rights to the materials.

3. Is Justus the person who should be making this decision, especially now that proprietary rights are contested? Is she willing to stand by her original analysis? Is there an alternative means for dating these samples that does not involve destruction of materials?

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Issue 6

1. This situation again raises the distinctions between the letter and the spirit of the law, and between legal and ethical obligations of researchers and professionals. What are the limits of professional responsibilities? This discussion raises basic issues of artificial boundaries and jurisdiction in human society and their constraints on ethical principles. Do ethical principles transcend geo-political boundaries? If they do, what don't they transcend?

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General Issues

1. If excavating graves is a form of desecration or theft, should data taken from grave sites be banned from use in research? What about use of materials from plundered sites or sites where excavation was sanctioned by descendants? Some people claim that anthropologists' use of data collected from Native American graves is comparable to the Nazi use of data from medical experiments on prisoners. Is this comparison justified?
2. NAGPRA is a federal law and sets a minimum standard applied only to institutions that receive federal funds. (It exempts the Smithsonian Institution, which is covered by other repatriation legislation.) If your research is funded without federal moneys, are you ethically bound to the same principles? Are there circumstances that would exempt you entirely from repatriation's ethical prescriptions? Which standards should determine your obligation: ethical ones or legal ones?
3. NAGPRA applies only to the repatriation of Native American remains and sacred objects. If your research and collections concentrate on other peoples (e.g., Polynesians, Africans, etc.), are you still bound by NAGPRA's ethical prescriptions?
4. NAGPRA mandates the repatriation of only those remains for which specific hereditary or cultural affiliations can be established. For remains that cannot be so identified, a committee of interested parties is empowered to determine disposition. If you sat on that committee, what would you say should be done with remains -- fragments of bones and small fractions of skeletons -- that cannot be clearly identified? Who should assume proprietary rights over those remains? What is your ethical responsibility regarding artifacts and remains that cannot be identified?
5. Of the 500 original nations and innumerable bands of Native Americans, many are now extinct. Who should possess proprietary rights over remains associated with those extinct groups? Are there any circumstances in which researchers' claims for proprietary rights over excavated human remains should prevail over claims made by Native American groups?
6. In considering repatriation, what is the best way to balance 1) the essentially spiritual desire for reburial of human beings and 2) the essentially materialistic desire to acquire empirical knowledge from anthropological artifacts?

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Further Reading

The National Park Service has an office assigned to implement NAGPRA and oversee the federal repatriation process. For information about regulations, policy changes, implementation strategies and updates:

Archeology and Ethnography Program

National Park Service

PO Box 37127

Washington, DC 20013-7127.

[WWW.CR.NPS.GOV]

Publications of professional associations with members directly affected by NAGPRA -- American Association of Museums, American Anthropological Association, etc. -- contain considerable discussion of repatriation issues, as do many Native American-oriented publications. A useful collection of resources and news on recent NAGPRA developments can be found on the WWW site: http://www.usd.edu/anth/repat.htm.

This site offers the full text of the original NAGPRA law, implementing regulations from the National Park Service and extremely helpful bibliographies of professional and Native American literature on the legislative and operational aspects of the law plus much more.

This case raises several important issues, including collaboration, authorship and supervisor-trainee relationships. Discussions may focus on one or more of these general areas, depending on the interests of the participants. It might be particularly interesting to talk about this case in a group that included people at different points in their scientific careers, i.e., graduate students, post-doctoral fellows, junior faculty and senior faculty.

The interests of this case's characters include the following:

Melissa: She expects Sharon to do the best research she can and to prepare the best possible publications. She is concerned about her own tenure process, and she expects Sharon to do work that supports her advancement.

Sharon: She expects Melissa, as her supervisor and a more experienced researcher, to guide their publications and collaborations. She expects Melissa and Adam to keep her career in mind with regard to publications, exposure within the scientific community, etc.

Adam: He expects Melissa and Sharon, as collaborators, to maintain open communication regarding the progress and presentation of the work they do as part of their joint project.

Conflicts arise between:

1. Melissa's desire for tenure, and thus her desire to please the conference organizers, which leads her to want to include in the review all the latest research and results from the collaborative experiments
2. Adam's desire for proper credit and acknowledgement and
3. Sharon's desire to please both Melissa and Adam, and to do the right thing in the context of the inherent power inequalities. She needs to learn the proper procedures for publishing and collaborating, but she also needs publications and letters of recommendation for her future career. She cannot afford to jeopardize either relationship.

Potential actions for Sharon:

1. Since Melissa clearly does not want to bring Adam into this situation, Sharon could refrain from contacting Adam and keep the focus of the paper as it is, on the work that has already been published, and
   1. not mention the new model;
   2. suggest the model in a cartoon, with reference to a manuscript in preparation by Sharon, Adam and Melissa
   3. include the model in detail, in essence using this review to introduce it, with reference to a manuscript in preparation by Sharon, Adam and Melissa.
2. Sharon could call Adam and ask his advice, even though Melissa doesn't want her to.
3. Sharon could ask another faculty member who is an experienced author for advice.

Consequences of these prospective actions:

1a) This strategy will ensure that there will be no problem in publishing the future biochemical paper. However, Melissa will be just as unhappy as when the initial conversation began. If Sharon opts for this action, she will have to explain why she feels it's inappropriate to mention the new model without consulting Adam. This brings up the more general question of how to resolve disagreements between supervisors and trainees, where there are inherent power disparities. Sharon could present her thoughts to Melissa in the context of ethics, proper accepted practice for publication, and/or specific journals' rules of publication. She should have learned some of these ideas earlier in her career. If Melissa insists on including material that Sharon thinks should not be in the paper, Sharon can insist that her name be removed from the list of authors. This course would have negative consequences for her publication list and probably for her future relationship with Melissa.

1b) This option may be the most obvious compromise for Sharon with regard to the actual material contained in the review and biochemical papers, and Melissa may agree to it. However, it still leaves open the question of whether Sharon and Melissa should contact Adam before referring to their collective unpublished work.

1c) Melissa would probably prefer this option, for the sake of the publication and her tenure process. Before discussing newer, unpublished work in this sort of detail, however, Sharon and Melissa clearly need to contact Adam. Discussion of this option could focus on the conventions about unpublished data and future ability to publish within particular fields of research. It could include the proper acknowledgement of contributions, allocation of credit, and the responsibilities of authors, determined according to journal rules, the field's conventions or conversations between collaborators.

2) Melissa has made it clear that she does not like this option. This scenario also raises the question of how Sharon should present this information to Adam. She could preserve much of the three-way collaborative relationship by mentioning it casually, and asking for his advice on this publication matter with which she is inexperienced. On the other hand, she would probably damage the relationship between Melissa and Adam by saying, "I thought you should know that Melissa is trying to publish without giving you credit." The question also arises of whether Sharon should tell Melissa before, after or at all that she is discussing this question with Adam. Readers of this case would probably wonder about additional information, such as why Melissa doesn't want to contact Adam. What is the past history of their relationship? How does Melissa expect Adam to respond?

3) As in 2), we wonder how Sharon should present the information to the faculty member, with what sort of tone, and whether she should mention to Melissa that she has spoken or is planning to speak to the faculty member. To understand the complexity of Sharon's position, we must consider that post-docs need publications and letters of reference. They also need to make and maintain solid connections and collaborations with more senior researchers. In addition, post-docs often have few institutional advocates or formal channels of support, i.e., there is no postdoctoral correlate to the graduate student thesis committee or council.

This case study raises some of the ethical questions surrounding one of the "housekeeping" details of research, the assignment of authorship of a journal article. The issue is of enormous importance to researchers since decisions about promotion, tenure and the funding of grants are very often based upon the number of articles one has published. Researchers facing pressure to "publish or perish" undeniably have a vested interest in having authorship credit on as many articles as possible, and this pressure may lead to the inclusion of their names even where inclusion is not warranted by their contributions to the research project - a practice known as "unjustified" authorship. (Epstein 1993) Research demonstrates that the average number of authors listed on articles in various prestigious scientific journals has increased over the years (de Villiers 1984, Huth 1986) lending some support to the notion that unjustified authorship is widespread.

In an effort to curb this and other ethically questionable authorship practices, the International Council of Medical Journal Editors (ICJME) revised their "Uniform requirements for manuscripts submitted to biomedical journals" in 1988 and included stringent guidelines to be followed in assigning authorship to journal articles. These criteria, also known as the Vancouver Convention (since the ICJME met in the city of Vancouver), are the most widely referenced criteria for authorship in scientific journals; currently, more than 500 journals require adherence by their contributors. (International Committee of Medical Journal Editors 1997) The Vancouver Convention is currently in its fifth edition.

Despite the prevalence and importance of the Vancouver Convention, many junior researchers are unaware or only dimly aware of their existence, and few have given much thought to their limitations and problems. The questions posed in this case attempt to provide the reader with experience in applying the Vancouver Convention as well as in examining the issue of whether these criteria are a culturally neutral expression of widely shared beliefs about what should constitute authorship, or whether they may be inappropriate in some circumstances.

An analysis of these questions might best begin with an inquiry into whether the other members of Williams' lab can legitimately be included as authors on Charles' manuscript (and he on theirs) under the Vancouver Convention, as the proposed journal requires. Evaluating questions of authorship begins with a determination of the specific contributions of each researcher on a project, including both the type and extent of contribution. Next, the governing body of rules must be consulted and the meaning of its various provisions determined. Finally, the contributions made by each member must be evaluated with respect to the rules in order to determine whether the individual deserves to be listed as an author.

In this case, the determination of authorship is somewhat hampered by a lack of detail. Nevertheless, some conclusions may be drawn. None of the other lab members, it would seem, contributed to either the conception of the research project or to its original design. They were not involved in any data collection or in any of the routine work involved in the project. Their contributions primarily consist of making suggestions on how to overcome problems associated with the research and on how to improve it. This effort may have involved some participation in the analysis or interpretation of data. Unfortunately, neither the quality nor quantity of these suggestions can be determined. They probably contributed little to the writing since they did not help draft the article, although they may have contributed helpful comments when the draft was circulated. Given their limited involvement in the project, one doubts they would have felt comfortable doing much editing or revising. They each did receive a copy of the draft and presumably are expected to participate in the final approval of the version to be published.

The criteria of the Vancouver Convention require "substantial" contributions to each of the three specified areas, yet precisely what constitutes a "substantial" contribution is not specified. Accordingly, whether or not a contribution is enough to satisfy this requirement becomes a question to be resolved by each research group on each research project. While the Convention does not say why it does not define the term "substantial" (probably due to practical considerations), this silence would seem to allow for one of two interpretations: 1) The Convention implicitly presumes the existence of some sort of objective and universally applicable standard of what is "substantial," which any assignor of authorship could use in making the determination, or 2) the Convention intentionally makes allowance for cultural variation, since individuals from different societies may assign a different value to any given contribution when determining whether it is adequate for authorship.

If we follow the former interpretation and view the facts from the perspective of a reasonable person in the United States, the contributions of the lab members would likely be judged insufficient. The third prong of the criteria, which requires would-be authors to approve of the final version of the manuscript, would seem to be satisfied here. However, the first two prongs probably are not satisfied. Few people would regard periodically offering suggestions at lab meetings and supplying a few comments to a manuscript as enough to qualify for authorship. (The reader is encouraged to conceive of scenarios in which such contributions might arguably be deemed "substantial". For example, if a suggestion resolved a problem that prevented the research from progressing, would that be enough to qualify for authorship?) While we do not know the specific contributions of each lab member -- and so we cannot determine whether some individuals might deserve authorship -- it would seem that none have made "substantial" contributions to conception and design or analysis and interpretation of data, or important contributions to the intellectual content of the manuscript.

The second interpretation of the Vancouver Convention, that it was meant to allow for variation by country and culture of origin of the researcher, is most certainly not correct, although it would permit the lab members to be included as authors. Williams' conduct indicates that he clearly feels the other researchers have contributed enough to be included as authors on the paper, and they apparently agree. Since we have no reason to believe this approach does not represent the local standard of Wonkaland, we must presume authorship would be appropriate here. Indeed, if such an interpretation of the Vancouver Convention were correct, one could not easily accuse it of cultural bias. However, since the chaos resulting from each country applying its own standard would subvert the standardization that the Convention clearly attempts to achieve, such an interpretation would not be permissible. Moreover, a local interpretation of "substantial" might render the criteria meaningless if it dictated that nearly any contribution qualifies one for authorship. There would be little need for elaborate rules defining who is entitled to it.

By failing to allow for cultural diversity, the Vancouver Convention risks criticism that it amounts to a kind of unethical cultural imperialism by the ICJME, just as Williams argues. One might well ask, however, how guidelines on authorship might be fashioned so as to be culturally sensitive and yet still reward scientists for their effort and assign public responsibility for what is published, the two main goals of authorship. As suggested above, in this case the reader might speculate that the strong emphasis on the group in Wonkaland results in a nearly automatic authorship credit to any group member. Among the positive benefits of such a system might be that vesting the other lab members with an interest in the success of the other lab projects would stimulate their contributions. This system would also minimize legalistic squabbling about whether someone qualified for authorship under the Convention and thus preserve group harmony. Obviously, however, it would reduce the amount of credit awarded to those who actually did the bulk of the work by diffusing it over a greater number of persons. It also would detract from the public responsibility function since many researchers might not know enough about the research it to defend it effectively.

Returning to the case, we see that the lab members might be included as authors is only through the use of a local definition of the criteria. This goal would be most easily accomplished if Charles can persuade Williams to select a journal that does not require adherence to the Vancouver Convention. If Williams insists on submitting the manuscript to the proposed journal, Charles will be placed in a difficult position. As a graduate student who requires Williams' continued patronage to finish his research -- and, indeed, the good will of the entire lab team -- he may have no choice but to add the names. His future professional contacts may be jeopardized if he refuses. However, submitting the manuscript with the lab members' names added will amount to lying. Charles may have to make a difficult decision.

Williams might try to claim that lying should be allowed in these circumstances. If most or all of the reputable journals follow the Vancouver Convention, he may argue that one has little choice but to lie if he wants to be published. Still, one might respond that he ought to focus his efforts on modifying the Convention to allow for local interpretations or otherwise work to resolve the problem but follow it in its present form until that time. This approach would mean submitting the paper to the proposed journal with his and Charles's names attached but crediting the contributions of the other lab members in the acknowledgments.

The issues raised in this case illustrate some of the difficulties involved in trying to establish authorship criteria that are culturally neutral and fair to all parties and still achieve the goals of giving appropriate credit and assigning responsibility. One recent proposal suggests replacing the notion of "authorship" with one of "contributorship" in which each contributor (defined as one who has added usefully to the work) spells out his or her contribution in the paper. At least one person would be required to take public responsibility for the work, and this role would be indicated in the article. (Rennie, Yank and Emanuel 1997) This approach might be one useful way of resolving many of the problems of the Vancouver Convention.

References

• de Villiers, F. "Publish or Perish -- the Growing Trends towards Multiple Authorship." South African Medical Journal 66 (1984): 882-83.
• Epstein, R. J. "Six Authors in Search of a Citation: Villains or Victims of the Vancouver Convention?" British Medical Journal 306 (1993): 765-67.
• Huth, E. J. "Irresponsible Authorship and Wasteful Publication." Annals of Internal Medicine 104 (1986): 257-59.
• International Committee of Medical Journal Editors. "Uniform Requirements for Manuscripts Submitted to Biomedical Journals." Journal of the American Medical Association 277 (1997): 927-34.
• Rennie, D.; Yank, V.; and Emanuel, L. "When Authorship Fails: A Proposal to Make Contributors Accountable." Journal of the American Medical Association 278 (1997): 579-85.

Phase 1

Phase 2

Phase 3

The process of peer review is based on the premise that accomplished scientists, or "experts," in a particular field of study, are the most qualified to evaluate the scientific work or proposed research in that particular field. While most scientists would agree that this premise is valid in establishing an effective system of peer review, it has become clear that the system has some inherent problems. For the peer review system to be effective, reviewers must be able to evaluate the proposed or completed work honestly and objectively, and they must respect the confidentiality of the work being reviewed. Indeed, most ethical problems encountered during peer review are due to the need to avoid conflicts of interest and maintain confidentiality, which may be very difficult in some situations.

Many of the ethical dilemmas faced by reviewers arise from the fact that guidelines for avoiding conflicts of interest and maintaining confidentiality are often lacking or inadequate. There is a clear need for granting agencies and scientific journals to develop more explicit guidelines for reviewers in dealing with these issues, and many are beginning to adopt such policies. One starting point might be for organizations to model guidelines on those developed by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) designed to avoid conflicts of interest and maintain confidentiality during the scientific review of grant proposals. The NIH provides explicit instructions to reviewers to avoid conflicts of interest during initial review group meetings. These instructions state the following:

A member must leave the room when an application submitted by his/her own organization is being discussed or when the member, his/her immediate family, or close professional associate(s) has a financial or vested interest even if no significant involvement is apparent in the proposal being considered. If the member is available at the principal investigator's institution for discussions; is a provider of services, cell lines, reagents, or other materials, or writer of a letter of reference, the member must be absent from the room during the review. Members are also urged to avoid any actions that might give the appearance that a conflict of interest exists, even though he or she believes there may not be an actual conflict of interest. Thus, for example, a member should not participate in the deliberations and actions on any application from a recent student, a recent teacher, or a close personal friend. Judgment must be applied on the basis of recency, frequency and strength of the working relationship between the member and the principal investigator as reflected, for example, in publications. Another example might be an application from a scientist with whom the member has had long-standing differences which could reasonably be viewed as affecting the member's objectivity. Another example which might be considered is the review of a project which closely duplicates work ongoing in the member's laboratory. (National Institutes of Health 1995)

With respect to maintaining confidentiality, the NIH guidelines state:

All materials pertinent to the applications being reviewed are privileged communications prepared for use only by consultants and NIH staff, and should not be shown to or discussed with other individuals. Review group members must not independently solicit opinions or reviews on particular applications or parts thereof from experts outside the pertinent initial review group," and "privileged information in grant applications shall not be used to the benefit of the reviewer or shared with anyone. (National Insitutes of Health 1995)

These statements offer reviewers clear guidelines for ensuring that they do not have a conflict of interest, and for maintaining confidentiality during the grant review process. However, many journals do not provide such specific guidelines for the review of scientific manuscripts. For example, in response to the claim and subsequent lawsuit by Cistron Biotechnology that scientists at the Immunex Corp. "improperly used information from a paper they reviewed for Nature in their own research," Nature editor John Maddox commented that the journal does not explicitly define confidentiality. The only policy statement regarding confidentiality states that "colleagues may be consulted (and should be identified for us), but please bear in mind that this is a confidential process." (Marshall 1995, p. 1913) Furthermore, Nature does not require reviewers to identify potential conflicts of interest. Maddox continues to assert that there are unwritten rules, generally understood by reviewers, which assert, which assert hat the contents of manuscripts are not to be disclosed to the public and are not to be used to further the reviewer's own research.

Like Nature, many journals provide their reviewers with vague statements regarding confidentiality. Guidelines for avoiding conflicts of interest and maintaining confidentiality vary considerably from journal to journal. This lack of consistency is problematic: When explicit guidelines are not provided, it is difficult for reviewers to know what actions are appropriate. Furthermore, even when explicit guidelines are provided, there are many situations where the appropriate action is not obvious. One way for research groups to handle these issues would be to establish their own review procedures to help guarantee a fair and unbiased review.

Phase 1

In Phase 1 of this scenario, John Slater receives a manuscript from a competitor's laboratory to review; the title of the manuscript suggests that the work is closely related to ongoing research in Slater's laboratory. Slater should immediately recognize that there is a potential conflict of interest in his reviewing the manuscript. Slater's appropriate course of action would be to inform the editor of the journal of the potential conflict of interest prior to reviewing the manuscript.

However, when such situations arise, the editor will often ask the reviewer to review the manuscript despite the potential conflict of interest, with the understanding that the reviewer will remain honest and objective. This outcome is especially likely to occur in situations where relatively few "experts" in the particular field of study are available to review manuscripts.

Phase 2

In Phase 2, Slater decides that he can be objective in his review of the manuscript. He asks Alice Parker, a graduate student in his lab, for her evaluation of the manuscript. In this scenario, Slater's motives are only to solicit Parker's comments, as she is intimately familiar with this field of research. However, it should be noted that Slater could have shown Parker the manuscript for the sole purpose of providing her with confidential information that could benefit her research. Some journals explicitly state that reviewers may consult with colleagues regarding a manuscript as long as the reviewer discloses to the editor the names of those who were consulted. However, many journals do not explicitly state such guidelines. Furthermore, guidelines for general disclosure of the contents of a manuscript, where colleagues are not consulted for their expert opinion on the research, are often absent or extremely vague.

Many scientists would argue that disclosure within the reviewer's research group, or even within the reviewer's own institution, does not constitute a public disclosure of information. On the other hand, some reviewers adhere to a strict definition of confidentiality and do not discuss the contents of a manuscript even within their research groups, except in the situation where a colleague is consulted for his or her expertise. However, when a manuscript contains information that is relevant to the research interests in reviewers' laboratories, it may be very difficult, if not impossible, to keep the information from their research groups. Furthermore, it could be argued that keeping such information confidential would conflict with the collaborative basis of scientific research.

Phase 3

Phase 3 presents the greatest ethical dilemma for Slater. In the course of reviewing the manuscript, Slater and Parker discover that the manuscript describes a novel technique that could potentially benefit their own research efforts. In this scenario, Parker uses the technique in her research, which proves to be beneficial and results in the publication of a manuscript. Scientists generally agree that the contents of manuscripts submitted for publication are privileged information and should not be used by reviewers to further their own research efforts. However, is it reasonable to ask reviewers to disregard information that could potentially benefit his/her own research? Which is more important -- individual researchers' right to confidentiality and credit for their own work, or researchers' commitment to the collaborative basis and overall mission of the scientific enterprise?

It is not clear whether Slater attempts to credit the competitor's group for the use of the technique. In this situation, how should the reviewer cite the source of the information? Consider a situation where a reviewer does not recommend the manuscript for publication, but recognizes that both groups may benefit from a collaboration. Would it be unethical for the reviewer to contact the competitor to discuss this possibility?

This case study illustrates some of the common ethical dilemmas encountered during the peer review of manuscripts submitted for publication in scientific journals. The most common ethical dilemmas appear to revolve around attempts to avoid conflicts of interest and to maintain confidentiality during the peer review process. There is clearly a need for scientific journals to develop more explicit guidelines for handling potential conflicts of interest and safeguarding confidentiality, but as this case study illustrates, explicit guidelines may not address every ethical dilemma that may arise. For this reason, it is necessary for all scientists to have a good understanding of the ethical issues inherent in the peer review process, so that they can make sound ethical decisions when these types of situations are encountered.

References

• Marshall, Eliot. "Peer Review: Written and Unwritten Rules." Science 270 (1995): 1913.
• National Institutes of Health (NIH). "Review Procedures for Initial Review Group Meetings." Issued January 1995; revised April 1997. http://www.drg.nih.gov/guidelines/proc.htm.

This case raises many issues. One may start with the accepted practice of listing only senior members of a laboratory as authors of an abstract if they are presenting data generated by members of their laboratories. Although this practice is generally considered appropriate, many scientists do not use this convention, instead listing all contributing researchers as authors.

A second issue concerns mentioning the contributions of undergraduate laboratory assistants. Many principal investigators (PIs, analogous to laboratory directors or senior members of a laboratory -- the persons who secure funding for the research) do not acknowledge the contributions of undergraduates unless they are considered significant. If the contribution consisted mainly of technical assistance, and no development of experiments was involved, the supervisor of that "technician" is the only one mentioned. This convention sets the standard in authorship. Although it may not seem fair or appropriate, and therefore may appear worthy of discussion, this issue is not considered to be the main issue raised by this case.

The second stage of development of the case is the original publication. Review articles often have only a single author, especially if they are written as an overview of recent advances in a particular field. They normally include only published data , but unpublished facts may be included with permission of the experimenter and listed as "personal communication." If the author of the review article is the experimenter who has generated the new data, it will be listed as "unpublished data." The fact that Gump is the only author on the review is accepted in the field, therefore, provided that he has permission to publish any new findings and includes the appropriate references.

Later in the case, however, we learn that permission was not obtained. The question now is, does a PI require permission to publish or discuss the data generated by researchers in his or her laboratory? That is a difficult issue to resolve. Strictly in terms of maintaining good communication in the laboratory and as a matter of etiquette, the answer is probably yes. In this case the students and post-docs conducting the research will probably hesitate before sharing their findings with Gump. In research there is always a chance that someone else will complete the important experiments and publish their data first. This experience is commonly referred to as being "scooped." If it is acceptable for the PI to publish any data generated in his/her laboratory, then the conditions are set for a race between the researchers (students or post-docs) and the PI to publish first. If the students lose this race and are not included in the authorship, have they been "scooped" by the PI? If the student were writing the review for publication, used an appropriate and considerate manner of referencing and obtained permission to include unpublished results from each researcher, should the PI be included as an author? Convention in the biological sciences says that a student does not publish research without including the PI as an author. The theory is that the PI has helped to shape and direct the research and therefore has made a significant contribution even if he/she hasn't performed any experiments.

Another question arises when one considers that Gump is writing a research article without any new data. Although he does include a couple of new figures that haven't been published previously, most of the results presented have been published in abstracts or other publications. It is standard to develop a full-length manuscript out of work that has already been presented at meetings and included in abstracts. If every bit of the research is referenced to an abstract or previous publication, however, is this considered double publishing? What is and is not publishable? How much new information does one need in order to write a manuscript? This standard will vary by discipline, but the question could stimulate discussion.

This section also implies that the students intend to publish their findings under their own names and in a journal more appropriate to their field. Has Gump lessened their chances of publication by publishing his manuscript? Should the obscure status of the journal be an issue?

Gump's obvious insensitivity to his students and post-docs is demonstrated when he ignores his students' concerns about his "creative" manuscript. If he were a responsible mentor, he would be helping to further their budding careers as scientists. By submitting the research paper as he did, he actually undermined their future publications and did not give appropriate credit.

The main issues of this case are:

1. lack of "good mentoring" by the PI and insensitivity to the needs and concerns of his students
2. failure to give proper credit to the people making the discoveries, in this case graduate and undergraduate students and post-docs
3. concerns about authorship
4. "ownership" or proprietary of use of data or discoveries made in a laboratory.

Phase 1

1. Johnson and Green should have informed Smith of their results and told him about the work they had submitted for publication as a matter of common courtesy. Although Smith's work may not have been significant, he was a member of the research group and should have been made aware of the group's progress. Furthermore, the confrontation in Phase 2 could have been avoided if all parties were more open with their findings and intentions.
2. Based on the information given in Phase 1, it is reasonable to believe that Smith should be listed in the acknowledgments at the end of the publication. Without evidence to support Smith's contribution, most referees would not accept listing Smith as a co-author.
3. As a rule, chemists analyze their data carefully before making claims regarding chemistry under investigation. In this example, Smith used very poor judgment, especially for a chemist with the level of experience of a post-doc. For Smith to make a legitimate claim, he would either need to explain the inconsistency in his data or repeat the experiments and obtain valid data. Since Smith took neither of these actions, he forfeited his claim of credit for the discovery.

Phase 2

1. To answer this question correctly, we would need detailed information about the research project and the extent to which Smith's idea represented a significant development. An argument could be made that perhaps this idea was only one of several of Smith's ideas about the reaction, and it turned out to be the right answer by chance. However, it is also true that Smith's suggestion undoubtedly saved the group a lot of time and money. Ownership of an idea is sometimes not defined unless the idea has been published formally.
2. A patent lawyer could argue that it would be unethical to deprive Smith of any of the royalties because his idea led to the patented process. The lawyer might also argue that Smith should be allowed to file a separate patent on his idea and the process he had investigated. Thus, both parties would receive royalties, but Smith probably would receive a much smaller percentage than Johnson and Green.
3. If Smith were to repeat his experiments successfully, demonstrating that his previous claims were legitimate, it would resolve most of the conflicts mentioned in this case. However, Smith may not be willing to do so and may argue that his original work is enough to establish that his idea led to a solution. In a case such as this, a third, independent laboratory would most likely be asked to verify the results of both Smith's work and the work published by Johnson and Green. The results of the independent laboratory's tests would then be used to resolve the question of Smith's contribution.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 1

The most salient issue raised by this case is the issue of who should profit from Jones's ideas -- whether the institution's investment in Jones is enough to justify receiving some (or all) of the profit from his business. A second -- not entirely separate issue -- is the appropriate use of university facilities (computers and phone lines, not consumable items) and time (leave) and the fact that the initial investment in Jones was by the college. As this case study was written, Jones is employed by a private college, but the issues would be even more complex if he worked for a state university. One might want to explore these issues when discussing whether it matters that public funds (a grant) supported Jones while he developed the program.

Jones's responsibilities to his institution are one issue, but he also has responsibilities to his students, which readers may or may not see as a separate issue. What Jones does on his own time is his business. But being a professor is not a 9 to 5 job with clear barriers between on and off time. Jones has a variety of responsibilities as a professor; readers' perceptions of and ranking of those responsibilities will greatly affect their answers to the questions posed in Part 1. Part of the problem is that Jones's priorities have changed mid-stream in Mark's graduate career, and the question arises as to whether or not these conflicts are being approached ethically. Jones's conflicts could become more entangled if the situation is allowed to progress without intervention; if BioProgram goes public, Jones also will have responsibilities to investors.

Mark also confronts some ethical issues. Does his responsibility for his own career conflict with his loyalty to Jones? He needs to remain in Jones's good graces for his future career success, yet he has to bring Jones's behavior up for review in order to graduate in a timely fashion; he is in a bit of a no-win situation. Mark's reluctance to disappoint Jones probably enters into his decisions as well, as he seems to get along well with Jones on a personal level.

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Part 2

The issues raised here are mostly issues of responsibility -- the responsibilities of members of the department to students on whose committees they sit, the responsibilities to the department for the students and for allocation of resources (Mark's stipend). Underlying these issues is the issue of explicit versus implicit assumptions -- those made by Mark, by Jones and by the rest of the department. Conflicting perceptions of responsibility among the parties in this case led to this ethical dilemma.

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Question 1. Peter was added to the case to simulate a frequent occurrence at technical conferences -- salespersons attending conferences to promote products. Many conferences are complemented by trade shows that invite industrial researchers to promote their products. This practice is not problematic as long as the attendees are notified of and aware of the presenters' agendas. However, sales pitches by research associates/salespersons can be biased and should be accepted with caution, especially if proceedings are published.

In this case, the conference was designed for the presentation of theoretical papers. This distinction raises the issue of attendees not knowing the presenter's agenda. This question was added to create an awareness of the possibility that biased results may be presented at a conference. It may also be noted that attendees can usually tell the sales pitches from the true research, which causes the attendees to become uneasy and angry toward the sales staff. Therefore, companies should not use technical conferences for sales promotion.

Question 2. Katherine decided to ignore the findings of William and his team and present an "incomplete" technical paper. William had the same problem but decided to tell Katherine. Or was he just passing the responsibility onto someone else? Either way, Katherine and William were responsible for evaluating the new analyzer, and they found something wrong. Should Katherine have retracted William's abstract? That would have raised concerns with management since Peter was scheduled to attend the conference with William and Katherine. If Katherine had told her supervisor, would she have been fired? Can Katherine and William continue to ignore the problem that they found?

Question 3. Katherine and William's option of continuing to ignore the problem has been eliminated by the professor's question. William must decide what to do. He can pass the responsibility to Katherine, as he did before, by directing the question to her. However, this option would probably get him fired by Katherine.

Will he lie? Should he tell the professor that he looked into the accuracy between the overlapping size ranges and found comparable results? Should he tell the professor that they haven't looked into that aspect of the evaluation? The first lie would be blatant and would create misplaced trust in the analyzer. If William pretends that he did not look into the evaluation, he could delay the inevitable discovery that the analyzer is inaccurate between the size ranges. At least he and Katherine could leave the conference without publicly disclosing the problem before they had a chance to inform management.

Questions 1-3

Questions 4-6

Question 7

Question 8

The main purpose of this case study is to stimulate a discussion of the criteria for authorship. However, as the scenario unfolds, several issues arise from the actions of the people involved. Several of the questions have been included to help initiate a discussion on how the actions of each character contributed to the eventual conflict.

Questions 1-3

In the first part of this scenario, McClair suggests some experiments that Platt should do for her thesis project. As a committee member, he has a right and a responsibility to suggest experiments that should be performed in order to reach the goals of Platt's thesis proposal. What is questionable is his suggestion that she go to a laboratory where similar work is being performed. McClair's motives are not entirely clear. Perhaps he is aware that Jones is low on funding and believes that going to England is an economical way for Platt to complete the experiments. On the other hand, he could be aware that Gleeson's laboratory has been encountering difficulties in performing experiments that Platt is familiar with. Although we do not know McClair's intentions, it is important to recognize the potential conflict of interest.

It was inappropriate for McClair and Gleeson to tell Platt that she was expected to share her data when her adviser had told her otherwise. McClair and Gleeson should have contacted Jones and clarified the conditions for Platt's trip. In fact, it probably would have been more appropriate for McClair to have approached Jones with the initial suggestion to do the work in Gleeson's lab so that she could evaluate the idea and define the expectations, prior to involving Platt. At the same time, Jones should have been more open with Platt about her concerns. Platt is also at fault in this scenario, however. First, she should not have taken the advice of a committee member over that of her own adviser. Furthermore, she should have insisted that the questions surrounding the sharing of her data and techniques be resolved before she left.

Questions 4-6

The criteria for authorship are not well established, and situations like the one in this case are not uncommon. Scientific journals are becoming more aware of this problem and have begun to set guidelines for authorship. A potential author should play an active role in one or more of the following capacities: 1) formalizing the idea, 2) performing the experiments and 3) writing the article. Furthermore, anyone listed as an author should read and understand the entire article and consent to its publication.

Whether or not Platt's presentations are relevant depends on the following factors. First, were the techniques reported in enough detail that someone could reproduce the experiments directly from the information presented, or did the presentation focus on the data, only mentioning the techniques? Furthermore, the guidelines of the meeting are significant. At some meetings, abstracts and "personal communications" are not to be referenced. The intention is that scientists can share scientific knowledge without the fear of being "scooped."

A collaboration allows for groups with varying areas of expertise to come together to solve a common problem. Although it is imperative that each member of a collaboration be involved in the work, the contribution from each group may not be equal. Therefore, the terms and limitations of the collaboration must be well defined in advance. In most cases, co-authorship is implied in a collaboration. This agreement is part of what distinguishes collaboration from cooperation.

Platt should have known what her role was prior to going to Gleeson's laboratory. Despite Jones's warning, Platt shared some of her data and techniques, perhaps within the limits of what she felt Jones was comfortable sharing. Furthermore, it is possible that Platt felt that the help she gave Gleeson's laboratory was reasonable considering the assistance she had received in performing her experiments. We do not know her exact reasoning, but it should be pointed out that Platt's first loyalty should be to her own research laboratory; if she were at all concerned about what was acceptable, she should have contacted her adviser.

Question 7

Looking at Gleeson's reasons for excluding Platt from the paper, we can see arguments for each side. Although Platt did not actually obtain the data presented in the paper, her contribution to the experimental set-up appears to be significant. Furthermore, merely performing the experiments does not guarantee authorship. For example, technicians are commonly excluded from publications because they fail to provide an intellectual contribution. Conversely, collaborators should not be automatically excluded because they didn't perform the experiments. Laboratory heads (i.e., research advisers) rarely do bench work, and yet they are often listed as authors.

It is important to look at Gleeson's second argument. If Platt had presented enough information at scientific meetings for Gleeson's laboratory to plan and perform the experiments, then her assistance was more of a convenience than a necessity. In this case, Gleeson's argument may be valid. However, if his lab's plan was to answer a certain question, and if they lacked a specific technique for doing so, Platt's contribution was crucial to their success, and she should have been given more credit.

Gleeson's final argument is completely invalid. It is improper to include a lab member who didn't contribute to a project, or to exclude one who did, on the basis of enhancing someone's career.

Question 8

A failure to communicate led to this problem. Jones needs to be more open and honest with her students. Her failure to take a stand prior to Platt's trip to England and her refusal to support Platt's pursuit of authorship may suggest that she should not be an academic research adviser. Not all good scientists are good mentors. Greater communication also should have existed between Jones and McClair. Faculty members should not purposely contradict each other. Furthermore, all three professors involved had a power advantage over Platt. It is difficult for a student to ignore the instructions of faculty members. However, when they are giving opposing directions the situation becomes impossible. Platt has obvious reasons for wanting to keep all three people content: Jones is her adviser, McClair is on her committee, and she will have to depend on Gleeson while in England.

Although she is in a difficult situation , Platt failed to demand that her role be defined prior to leaving. Because of this failure, Platt is not blameless.

Questions 1-3

Questions 4-5

Questions 6-8

Sherry confronts a number of dilemmas in this case study. She faces the choice of doing what she thinks is right from her viewpoint and that of her co-workers. She also makes a few ethically questionable moves. This case study is designed to present a person to whom most people can relate, someone who sometimes thinks of herself first, not an unrealistically virtuous person. I want to introduce some so-called gray areas for discussion using a few issues that have come up in my own graduate career as well as some that I considered thought-provoking.

At the end of each section, conclusions can be drawn that will end the story, and I intended the reader to be able to do this, as indicated by the possible conclusion paragraph after the first set of questions. As the story continues, additional ethical issues arise. When the story ends, there is a wide avenue for discussion of what Sherry did and what she should or should not have done. The reader has a broad spectrum of issues for an animated class discussion.

Questions 1-3

The question here is whether Norman has been dishonest in his dealings with Sherry's work. Since Norman is also listed as an author, he should be able to revise work if he wishes. But did he really fabricate the data? Could he have been revising her work? It is a possibility that he did the experiment himself and got the correct conclusions. What Sherry should have done is to ask him in the beginning about the manuscript, or ask to help edit it.

If Sherry decides that Norman is falsifying data, should she tell anyone? The truth is that she probably would be blacklisted in her field, or at least make some serious enemies. She could be saying good-bye to any chance for success. Is it really worth all that?

All of these issues aside, Sherry should never have looked at papers on Norman's desk. Her action is a clear invasion of privacy.

Questions 4-5

Part 2 attempts to display a gray area for discussion. It brings up the question of responsibility or accountability for a publication. Sherry's decision not to "blow the whistle" this time is solely based on her self-interest, not on any sense of loyalty to anyone else in the lab. Is this decision any more or less justifiable than her earlier decisions, which took into account the fate of her co-workers?

Questions 6-8

In Part 3, I want the reader to think of what Sherry should do after discovering that others have shared her experience with Norman. Obviously, none of them have reported Norman, even though they knew what he was doing, and had discussed his actions among themselves. Should Sherry now sacrifice her career to prevent his jeopardizing the newer students? Her predecessors never warned her. Should she too turn a blind eye? After all, she is about to leave, and no one would ever know what happened.

Should Sherry also be accused of misconduct? She knew of an unethical situation (or one she thought was unethical) and did nothing about it. My point here is for the discussion participants to find out their own institutions' policy on reporting unethical behavior. At some institutions, she would be held accountable; at others, not. Most institutions have no set policy for ownership of data and reporting misconduct because it is impossible to know the minute details and circumstances of every case. Misconduct is handled on a case-by-case basis, although each institution may have a highly structured procedure for handling such cases.

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References

• Beabout, G. R., and Wenneman, D. J. Applied Professional Ethics: A Developmental Approach for Use with Case Studies. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, Inc., 1994. National Academy of Sciences,
• National Academy of Engineering and Institute of Medicine. Responsible Science: Ensuring the Integrity of the Research Process, Volume 1. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 1994.
• Sigma Xi., Honor in Science. Research Triangle Park, N.C.: The Scientific Research Society, Inc., 1994, pp. 29-32.

The case of the Kennewick Man, and NAGPRA in general, raise many difficult questions. The specific questions listed in the case are discussed below. Additional relevant issues are then raised. Finally, precedents and analogous situations are considered.

1. Are there values that are more important than the value of scientific research?

Clearly, some values are more important than scientific research. For example, it is generally accepted that research on human subjects cannot be conducted without consent of the patient or study subject. The Nuremberg Code, established in 1947, specifies that consent in research experiments must be voluntary. It also requires that experiments be conducted in such a manner as to avoid unnecessary harm, both physical and mental (Nuremberg Military Tribunals 1947). The American Anthropological Society's guidelines state that research should be conducted in a manner that does not harm the subject. (American Anthropological Association 1995) These examples suggest that the well-being of the subject is a more important value than scientific research in and of itself. Thus, we already recognize instances when other values are considered more important than scientific research.

2. Is cultural autonomy one such value?

In the United States, arguments for cultural autonomy in the practice of science could be based on arguments for religious freedom. The free exercise of religion occasionally conflicts with the practice of science. For example, a patient has the right to refuse medical treatment on religious grounds. Religious autonomy may be considered a form of cultural autonomy, implying that it is acceptable and legal for different groups to practice science in different ways or not at all.

Globally, recognition of the value of cultural autonomy has increased with a greater sensitivity toward colonial attitudes and with growing political movements to recognize the rights of indigenous peoples throughout the globe. Colonial practices extended beyond politics; they included economic, social and even scientific systems. Scientific colonialism has been defined as "that process whereby the centre of gravity for the acquisition of knowledge about the nation is located outside the nation itself." (Galtung 1967:13) Using this definition, archaeological and physical anthropological research into past Native American societies can be considered a form of scientific colonialism. Research is conducted outside the Native American nations, by outside scientists. The physical remains are curated on the outside, and the knowledge gained through the study of these remains is generally disseminated outside Native American nations. After realizing the potential for research on Native Americans to be conducted in a colonial manner, archaeologists and physical anthropologists have the challenging tasks of forming more balanced relationships with the descendants of the Native American nations they are studying.

Does the political independence of groups necessarily entail independence from other cultural, social, intellectual and scientific practices? At the very least, political independence implies that autonomous groups have the right to regulate the practices of science within their community. However, in keeping with accepted conventions of scientific research, autonomous regulation should not permit the practice of science so that it harms persons outside the community.

Could it be argued that the scientific study of the remains of indigenous peoples should not be permitted because it is not an accepted practice within most indigenous communities? Alternately, could it be argued that the archaeologists, physical anthropologists and the public body of knowledge are harmed by repatriation practices? If the harm is not physical or financial, how can it be measured? If both sides are harmed, should the deciding criteria be which side suffers the most harm? This reasoning would imply that the decision rests on benefit to the greater good. Accordingly, it could be argued that the study of remains benefits the larger society while cessation of study would benefit only a minority of the population. Such an argument would likely result in a ruling favorable to study rather than repatriation. This type of ruling would also imply that the rights of minority groups do not receive special protection, an idea that is still being debated in our society. Recent political action in California and in the U.S. Congress demonstrates that the American public is divided in its opinion of special programs and protection for minority groups.

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3. Is NAGPRA a suitable means for addressing the problem of the disposition of Native American remains?

NAGPRA was designed to prevent continued ethical abuses in the study of human remains. One objection to NAGPRA is that it attempts to legislate ethics and morals, which may not be the appropriate domain for federal law. However, federal legislation can be considered appropriate in this case for the following reasons:

1. The federal government has acted to protect certain values (such as free speech) in the interest of the American public.
2. The federal government has also acted to protect the rights of minority groups.
3. The federal government has traditionally been the authority to enact laws regarding Native American tribes.
4. Federal laws are an effective means for establishing national standards for certain behaviors.
5. Existing federal laws already protect cemeteries and burials.
6. National (and international) laws that protect cultural property already exist in the United States and other countries.

When considered in the context of these precedents, a federal law to protect Native American graves and grave goods seems appropriate. However, NAGPRA is vague enough to permit differing opinions of what constitutes a legitimate claim. Furthermore, the legislation does not reconcile the differing interests of the parties involved in repatriation. It also leaves open the means for handling claims, so that some institutions may recognize an affiliation that other institutions do not.

For institutions or researchers who disagree with NAGPRA and feel protective or proprietary about their collections, mild forms of noncompliance (such as foot-dragging or shoddy cataloging) may be a temptation. However, this response can only create further hostility. It reinforces the impression that archaeologists and museums hoard their collections and are unwilling to share them with other interested parties. Focusing on the problems with NAGPRA and its implementation only diverts attention from the central issue -- the appropriate way to study human remains. Instead of disputing the validity of the law, archaeologist and institutions should focus their energies on developing revisions that are generally acceptable to all parties. For example, some sources used to support repatriation claims are now known to contain erroneous information that leads to claims on unaffiliated materials. Standards of proof, implementation procedures and accepted affiliations could be developed as addenda to the law in order to make it more explicit and fair.

Problems with the law do not necessarily imply that the law is unjust but rather that the law isn't perfect and that revisions are necessary. Those who are concerned about potential pitfalls might choose to compile lists of suggested revisions through a committee of archaeologists, physical anthropologists, Native Americans and members of Congress. They may press for legislative revisions, for clarifications from the court systems and for the adoption of the revisions through other means than legislation.

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4. Are there moral or ethical considerations that are more important than following the letter of the law? If so, what implications does that have for limitations to scientific research, not just in archaeology, but in all disciplines?

NAGPRA was written to address ethical obligations. Like many laws, it can be interpreted narrowly or broadly. A narrow reading of the law, which gave more weight to the biological and historical data, would result in a decision that the skeleton does not meet the requirements for reclamation. With a narrow reading, scientific research would be permitted to continue. However, a broad interpretation of the law, which gives equal weight to oral history, would find that the skeleton does meet the requirements for repatriation. Since NAGPRA can be interpreted in different ways, should sympathy for the concerns of the Native Americans or for the concerns of the archaeologists weigh more heavily? Should a moral obligation to respect the dead influence the reading of the law? What about a perceived ethical obligation to compensate for the wrongdoing of the past? Is the integrity of the scientific research process less important than humanistic concerns? As Galtung (1967:13) argues, "knowledge is known as a good thing, but in human affairs it is not immaterial how that knowledge was acquired." That implies that archaeologists, physical anthropologists and all other researchers whose subjects are human beings must be certain that their research methods are justifiable in humanistic and scientific terms.

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5. Should science defer to the wishes of indigenous people?

In this case study, this question is the primary issue directly confronting scientific research. The case challenges both the autonomy of the scientific research process and the scientific method itself. First, the right to autonomy in scientific research is challenged by the right to cultural autonomy. Should scientific research (provided it is not violating human rights or other laws) be restricted by political concerns? If the archaeologists and physical anthropologists are not harming their subjects, what would be the implications for the practice of science if their research were forbidden? Is there a potential to set dangerous precedents here? Does it matter that the subject of the study is a rare find? Does it matter that the information that could be gained from the study would be extremely valuable, since very little data on the subject exists to date? (NAGPRA legislation does provide exemptions for cases where the study of the remains results in a major benefit to the United States.) Or is this case a clear-cut example of scientific colonialism, where the study would not produce information of major benefit?

Is it responsible conduct to stop a research project that has already begun? If the study were stopped, it would be impossible to attain complete, valid or reliable results. Should the limited data that were already collected be used? Without enough time to complete the study, it would be difficult to attain any results beyond basic measurements. Without assurance that the study results are valid, should the partial results be used? If the study subject is deemed "off limits" for further study, how can reliable results be assured? Should data from a study that has been stopped mid-stream be published, published with caveats, or remain unpublished?

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6. Are there times when the importance of scientific information outweighs the wishes of indigenous people?

In addition to the problem of assuring the integrity of the scientific research process, this case also raises the issue of what knowledge should be included in the public domain. Does the tribe's interest in reburying the skeleton outweigh the interest of contributing to scientific knowledge about migration to the New World and the history of the United States? Should we accept the oral history of the tribe as the source of information rather than scientific data? By extension, should we then adopt indigenous theories on any topic rather than exploring them through science? If that were the case, it is possible that the recent outbreak of the Ebola virus would not have been stopped, or stopped as quickly, because indigenous theories of the disease were not preventing its spread. Clearly, in this case, Western scientific research that investigated how Ebola was spread did benefit indigenous peoples.

NAGPRA legislation does provide exceptions to repatriation when the remains are a necessary part of a scientific study that would contribute significantly to the United States. If the material is repatriated, it is returned only after study is complete. Thus, the legislation itself seems to recognize exceptions to repatriation procedures. Is this a recognition of the value of information and/or the interests of the larger public? The law is vague in this regard.

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7. Are archaeologists and physical anthropologists facing a legitimate threat to research?

It appears that some research is threatened. However, much research (i.e., research on nonfederal or nontribal property) is unaffected by NAGPRA legislation as it currently stands. With federal laws that also require the constant assessment of cultural resources in developing areas, it is unlikely that archaeology as a profession will disappear entirely. However, NAGPRA legislation may mean that archaeologists must find a new modus operandi -- one that involves consultation with native peoples in order to develop mutually satisfying research projects. To this end, some archaeologists have already developed research programs founded on collaboration with Native Americans.

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8. If so, how can archaeologists and physical anthropologists continue to conduct research while operating within the restrictions required by law?

As discussed above, archaeologists and physical anthropologists are faced with the prospect of doing their work in a new way. Some lines of research may not be permitted, and research must be designed so that legally and ethically compromising situations are avoided. Preventive measures that ensure compliance may become necessary. Although they may eliminate some potentially exciting research projects, compliance and respect will be necessary to forge stronger relations with Native Americans. The end result may be that, after archaeologists and physical anthropologists demonstrate respect for and develop research programs in collaboration with Native Americans, feelings of distrust, alienation and powerlessness may be relieved, and currently forbidden areas of research may be reopened.

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9. How can archaeologists and physical anthropologists continue to conduct research while abiding by the spirit of the law?

In situations such as the Kennewick case, research is begun for salvage purposes and/or the discovery of remains is unintentional. What starts as an accepted line of research may become ethically compromised. Again, it seems that the best way to avoid such a situation is to plan ahead. If human remains, either prehistoric or historic, are encountered, how should one proceed? On federal property or tribal lands, NAGPRA is explicit in the proper procedures. However, it does not outline proper procedure on nonfederal or nontribal property, although there may be state guidelines. If full excavation is not possible, are there acceptable means of documenting the remains without removing them from the ground? If a sacred object is encountered, what should happen?

These kinds of situations often arise unexpectedly. When faced with an unexpected situation, the archaeologist will usually choose to proceed according to his or her training (which encourages study through careful documentation and removal to the lab). Most archaeologists are required to call the State Historic Preservation Office (SHPO) for an official opinion how to proceed. Emergency phone calls to the SHPO may remain necessary because of unexpected finds, but an archaeologist should not begin field work until he or she is sure of SHPO policy and Native American concerns. In addition, frequent contact with a representative of local or interested Native American groups would also be advisable. Although this approach may initially lead to headaches and unwanted research restrictions, inclusion is an important means of demonstrating the desire to work with Native Americans. It also prevents the spread of rumors and the suspicions that are generated by "closed" research.

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Further Considerations

Several ulterior motives can lie behind repatriation claims and arguments against repatriation. Below, three examples of these motives are raised and then discussed.

• If it were found that a group was claiming skeleton in an attempt to strengthen their land claims and thus gain power over other Native American groups, would that change the strength of the group's argument for repatriation?
• If the group that receives skeletons or grave goods also received money with which to rebury the materials, should a profit-making motive be considered in the decision?

In some cases, ulterior motives may play a role in repatriation claims or dispute. NAGPRA may be open for abuse just as other laws are. However, NAGPRA does not contain provisions that allow for exceptions when ulterior motives are suspected (or even proven). In cases where ulterior motives are suspected but repatriation is permitted anyway, follow-up may be necessary to make sure that the proper reburial procedures are being followed and the intent of the law is thereby upheld. Revisions to the law, including provisions for follow-up and assessment of penalties for noncompliance with reburial guidelines, may prevent ulterior motives from overriding the intent of the law.

• What if the study of the skeleton were fueled by other considerations, such as a desire for fame, or for the grant money that can be obtained to study skeletal remains and grave goods, especially for ancient skeletons like the Kennewick Man? Should these factors play a role in determining the validity of the archaeologists' arguments against repatriation?

Desire for fame and funding may play a role in the tenacity with which an archaeologist or physical anthropologist disputes a repatriation claim. Again, NAGPRA does not contain clauses that permit consideration of these matters in repatriation rulings. The primary means of preventing economic factors and/or vanity from entering the arbitration process is the necessity to prove that a study will result in major benefits to the United States. However, proving that the study is important is a different matter than completing, publishing and widely disseminating the results of the study. These requirements and penalties for noncompliance might be added to the law to prevent archaeologists and physical anthropologists from using important remains primarily for personal gain.

The biggest problem that archaeology faces is not repatriation, but the looting of sites and the buying and selling of artifacts, which creates the market for looted or forged materials. The relation of looting and forged artifacts to NAGPRA are considered below.

• If the reputation of the archaeologist involved in the study, or if the nature of the archaeological find were suspect, how should the repatriation claim be handled? Can the reputation of the contesting parties be included in decisions about repatriation?
• What if it appeared that the material was looted or faked? In such cases, it may require archaeological study to prove that the materials are genuine. If such research is prohibited, should potentially forged artifacts be repatriated?

In the above scenarios, it would be of interest to all parties that the artifacts and remains be thoroughly investigated and that the reports of the investigation be reviewed by an outside evaluator before any rulings are made. Native Americans probably don't care to claim forged materials, and archaeologists and physical anthropologists wouldn't want to invest their energies and resources in a dispute over repatriation when the materials are not authentic. NAGPRA was not written for remains that aren't culturally affiliated or to artifacts that are not part of a tribe's cultural heritage, past or present. However, the law does not currently require authentication. Authenticity should be included in the definition of indigenous human remains, funerary objects (both associated and unassociated), sacred objects and objects of cultural patrimony.

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Precedents

Two possible sources may be used on a comparative basis in reviewing this case. The first source involves informed consent; the second involves research on subjects who have traditionally been subject to prejudicial treatment.

Informed consent. Because the subject of the study cannot provide consent, and because there is no recognized legal guardian, policies regarding informed consent can only be loosely applied to this case. However, there are provisions for cases where the generalizable knowledge that is vital to the understanding of a condition can provide the basis for conducting research that may pose more than minimal risk to a subject. This exception may be used to argue that, at least in this case, study of the remains should go forward.

Prejudicial treatment. Even science has not lacked examples of prejudicial treatment. (Jones 1993) Prejudice should be considered in this case, too. Would archaeologists be so interested in the remains if they belonged to a white settler from the nineteenth century? If not, is it because the research potential is less, or is it because there is a reluctance to do similar research on subjects who share the same ancestry? A positive answer to the latter question would indicate the prejudices are playing a role in the research process.

Conclusion

The case of the Kennewick Man appears to fall under NAGPRA provisions that permit study followed by repatriation in situations where the results would be of major benefit. With multiple claimants, however, the situation also requires decision by mutual agreement or arbitration. The case is now in court; no ruling had been issued as of November 1, 1997.

Although this case deals with an archaeological problem, it involves issues of concern to scientific research. NAGPRA and repatriation claims challenge the integrity of the research process and the scientific method. In cases where scientific research conflicts with cultural values, which should take priority? This question can be argued from a philosophical, legal and ethical point of view. The answer is not clear, and any attempt at a solution is likely to be hotly contested. Situations such as this repatriation claim probably will be evaluated on a case-by-case basis. Consequently, a case such as this one may not be used to generalize a solution for instances when scientific research conflicts with other cultural systems. However, the case does point out some of the ethical issues that will require sensitivity as researchers conduct research or review research proposals outside a traditional Western setting.

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References

• American Anthropological Association. Final Report of the Commission to Review the AAA Statement of Ethics. Washington, D. C.: American Anthropological Association, 1995.
• Galtung, J. "Scientific Colonialism: The Lessons of Project Camelot." Transition 5-6 (30): 11- 15.
• Jones, J. H. Bad Blood: The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment. New York: The Free Press, 1993.
• Nuremberg Military Tribunals. The Nuremberg Code. Nuremberg: Nuremberg Military Tribunals, 1947.
• U. S. Department of the Interior. Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act Regulations. 43 CFR Part 10. Federal Register 62 (148).

Suggested Readings

• Day, M. H. The Vermillion Accord. First Intercongress on the Disposition of the Dead. Vermillion, S. D.: World Archaeological Congress, 1989.
• Fleuhr-Lobhan, ed. Ethics and the Profession of Anthropology: Dialogue for a New Era. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1991.
• Layton, R., ed. Conflict in the Archaeology of Living Traditions. London: Routledge, 1994.
• Lyott, M. J., and Wiley, A., eds. Ethics in American Archaeology: Challenges for the 1990's. Washington, D. C.: Society for American Archaeology, 1995.
• McBryde, I., ed. Who Owns the Past? Papers from the Annual Symposium of the Australian Academy of the Humanities. New York: Oxford University Press, 1985.
• Meighan, Clement W. "Burying American Archaeology." Archaeology 47 (1994): 64-68.
• Slayman, Andrew L. "A Battle Over Bones." Archaeology 50 (1997): 16-23.
• Zimmerman, Larry J. "Sharing Control of the Past." Archaeology 47 (1994): 65-68.

An initial overview of this case may lead the reader to focus on the obvious improprieties that Dr. Woodward has committed. Clearly, distributing medication intended for laboratory animal use to humans without a proper license constitutes an act that is not only unethical but illegal. Instead, this scenario was written primarily to encourage discussion between graduate students and faculty on some of the more subtle issues in the case including whistle-blowing and the student-mentor relationship.

Whistle-blowing

Questions 1, 2 and 3 were written to promote discussion of whistle-blowing by exploring Thomas's options. Whistle-blowers, in the world of science, are individuals who bring soundly based charges of misconduct to the attention of academic/research institutions or government agencies. A panel assembled by the National Academy of Sciences in 1993 defined misconduct in science as: "fabrication, falsification, or plagiarism, in proposing, performing, or reporting research. Misconduct in science does not include errors of judgment; errors in the recording, selection or analysis of data; differences in opinions involving the interpretation of data; or misconduct unrelated to the research process." (National Academy of Sciences, 1992, p. 5)

By definition, Dr. Woodward is not guilty of misconduct; rather, the National Academy of Sciences would describe his actions as "questionable research practices" or "actions that violate traditional values of the research enterprise and may be detrimental to the research process." (National Academy of Sciences, 1992, p. 5) Based on this criterion, should Thomas act on his knowledge of the situation?

Certainly, the easiest thing for Thomas to do would be to sit on the information and do nothing. After all, he is nearly finished at State University; becoming involved in this situation could delay the completion of his degree. Furthermore, raising questions about the research practices of a senior faculty member serving on his committee would hardly serve to advance his career The reality is that young scientists rely heavily on positive recommendations from senior faculty members; getting involved could tarnish Thomas's reputation, and thus his career. Even though the National Science Foundation and Public Health Service require institutions receiving public funds to have regulations in place to protect whistle-blowers, discrimination against these individuals is not uncommon. In fact, reprisals against whistle-blowers have been well documented, even in situations where the whistle-blower was proven correct. (Rossiter, 1992)

Aside from Thomas's fears regarding his career, he is also experiencing a conflict between his loyalty to Dr. Woodward and his responsibility to do what is right. The case makes it clear that Dr. Woodward has been helpful to Thomas. Because of this relationship, it would be unpleasant for Thomas to report these allegations to the institution, especially during the midst of a precarious tenure process. At the same time, Thomas is convinced that Dr. Woodward's actions were improper. Although this case does not involve misconduct in the strictest sense, Thomas believes that Marilyn and Shawn could be harmed by the medication. Given this piece of information alone, Thomas has the responsibility to act on his knowledge. But what type of action should he take, and when?

The case implies that Thomas and Dr. Woodward have a favorable relationship, so perhaps, rather than reporting this information to the institution, Thomas should directly confront Dr. Woodward with his concerns. It is unclear from the description of the case whether Dr. Woodward's actions represent a pattern of irresponsible behavior or just a lapse in judgment. If the case were modified so that Dr. Woodward's actions reflected a pattern of behavior, rather than this isolated case, Thomas might need to take his story to a higher authority. However, given the information at hand, confronting Dr. Woodward may offer the best solution for all parties involved. If Thomas does choose this option, the timing should not affect the tenure process; he should approach Dr. Woodward with his concerns as soon as possible.

The intent of Question 2 was to explore whether the consequences of Dr. Woodward's actions should influence Thomas's decision. In other words, should the fact that Marilyn and Shawn were not harmed by the beta-blockers have any bearing on Thomas's responsibility to act? When considering this issue, it is important to note that this specific case states that the students suffered no ill effects in the short term. In all likelihood, the students will not suffer any chronic effects either, but Thomas cannot know that for certain. Likewise, fabricating data seldom leads to immediate problems, but these actions can ultimately result in untold damage and expense if not exposed. Therefore, caution should be exercised in basing our decisions on consequences alone.

Question 3 was written to promote discussion on the case if the dynamics were changed so that Dr. Woodward were a M.D./Ph.D. While this modification would alter the legalities of the situation, some problems remain. Unless Marilyn and Shawn were under Woodward's direct medical care, it would not be proper for him to prescribe beta-blockers to the students as described. Another issue is that of diverting for personal use supplies that had been purchased for the conduct of experiments. Regardless of Dr. Woodward's degree, he has used materials purchased with federal or private funding for applications that were not stated in his grant protocol.

Student-Mentor Relationship

Questions 4 and 5 were written to foster a discourse on the relationship between Dr. Woodward and the students. The case indicates that Dr. Woodward has been generous in providing assistance to Thomas throughout his graduate studies, so one could reasonably conclude that Dr. Woodward is genuinely trying to help Marilyn and Shawn. However, from a cynical standpoint, Dr. Woodward could be exploiting the situation to recruit the students into his laboratory. It is not uncommon for would-be mentors to pursue graduate students by befriending them in the early stages of their academic careers. Unfortunately, there are instances in which faculty use empty promises of publications or even guarantee the student will complete a dissertation within a set time to persuade students into their laboratories. (Krulwich and Friedman, 1993) In this instance, the case does not indicate what motivates Dr. Woodward's behavior, but regardless of his intentions, he has placed the students into a difficult situation. As first-year students who are struggling to make their grades, they are vulnerable to an authority figure with an apparent quick-fix solution to their problems. It would be admirable for Marilyn and Shawn to politely decline Dr. Woodward's invitation, but realistically, new graduate students are generally eager to please and are likely to accept a faculty member's suggestion.

A final aspect of the case to be examined concerns the fairness of Dr. Woodward's actions. Certainly, other students in the Gross Anatomy class performed poorly on the exam, yet Dr. Woodward offered beta-blockers only to Marilyn and Shawn. This preferential treatment could be even more troubling if Dr. Woodward were involved in teaching this course. It might be worthwhile to consider how Dr. Woodward's actions in this case would differ from a situation in which a professor provides a test review only to selected students rather than the class as a whole. In both instances, the faculty member has violated the student-mentor relationship by giving certain students an advantage over others.

References

• Krulwich, T.A., and Friedman, P.J. "Integrity in the Education of Researchers." Academic Medicine 68 (9, 1993): S14-S18.
• National Academy of Sciences. Responsible Science: Ensuring the Integrity of the Research Process. Washington D.C.: National Academy Press, 1992.
• Rossiter, E.J.R. "Reflections of a Whistle-Blower." Nature 357 (1992): 434-436.

Question 1

Question 2

Question 3

Question 4

Question 5

Question 6

Question 7

Question 1

At least two levels of analysis are possible here -- legal and ethical. Legally, principal investigators and co-principal investigators must sign the following statement: "I certify to the best of my knowledge that the statements herein (excluding any scientific hypotheses and scientific opinions) are true and complete. . . . I understand that the willful provision of false information or any other communication submitted to NSF is a criminal offense." Thus, despite a possible reaction that Ness's action may be a "small murder," which is bad only in that it will lead to worse actions if it succeeds, the introduction of the error is in itself a legally prosecutable offense.

However, Ness was not caught in this deliberate act. Even if she were caught, it would be difficult to prove her guilt, due to the burden of proving intent and lack of negligence and providing expert witnesses.

That leaves open the question of whether the introduction of the error was ethical. Ness has a responsibility to herself and her co-principal investigator, Black, to be truthful so that her proposal can fairly evaluated. She also has an ethical obligation to other proposers and the NSF peer review process. By being untruthful, Ness has jeopardized her own career and Black's career, penalized the careers of other proposers and corrupted the review process. That may seem like a strong indictment, but the entire system is built upon truth. Violations cannot be taken lightly because they bring into question the entire system.

Does it matter that Ness introduced an error in the method and not a fudging of data? An argument can be made that they differ in severity, but both are misconduct.

Do you think Ness can later claim she made an honest mistake in the method and is thus innocent of misconduct? This possibility will require a convincing explanation that is hard to express unless one is completely truthful.

Mention must also be made about the division of labor in writing the proposal. Although it is common practice to divide writing the parts of the proposal, ultimately all coauthors are responsible for the entire proposal; coauthorship of proposals is similar to coauthorship of a paper. Thus Ness and Black should have ensured that each of them completely understand the other's written contribution; specifically, Black should have understand and caught Ness's deliberate error. Black can be faulted for failing to ask Ness to explain her methods until he understood; Ness can be faulted for not giving an explanation or giving an unclear or misleading explanation.

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Question 2

Ness may or may not have good reasons to support her beliefs, but she has the right to her own opinion. I do see a problem, however, in Ness acting on her belief that the NSF peer review process is corrupt. By introducing an error in the proposal, Ness is actually contributing to corruption of the process. She may be inaccurate in her belief and the NSF peer review process may be of the highest integrity; by her actions, she is creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. If Ness is accurate in her belief, a common response may be that anything is justified in a corrupt process -- anything you can get away with, that is, and Ness has gotten away with an error that has protected her research ideas (or at least that is what she thinks). Ness knows herself what she has done, and her deception will likely manifest itself sometime. What would Ness think if she were a future proposal peer reviewer who had detected such a deliberate error?

I state in the discussion of Question 7 that Ness has an obligation to fix any problems she encounters and not just point the finger while acting unethical herself.

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Question 3

The first thing that jumps out is that this new material or the process to create the new material may be patentable, protected under intellectual property law. There are many ways to apply for a patent (these procedures are changing rapidly), and the best advice is to consult a specialty lawyer. State University will surely have a claim (legitimate or not), and the State University legal department may be one place to start, although the counsel there will be acting on behalf of the University and not on Ness's behalf. Laboratory notebooks and other documentation become very important in patent applications. World patent law is moving toward a global "first-to file" standard (as opposed to the traditional U.S. first-to-invent standard), so time is of the essence.

Patenting the new material or the process to make the new material may conflict with Ness's desire to submit a proposal to NSF and/or publicly present her preliminary results. She may be forced to decide whether it is in her interest to patent or publish; these options may be mutually exclusive.

The best way to avoid a situation in which the researcher feels vulnerable to being "scooped" is to publish research, to build a body of work that can stand for itself. If it is good work, others will notice and possibly pursue some of the ideas. Researchers should be honored when others follow their work. Most papers are not referenced and are read only by their authors and close colleagues. Problems of proper acknowledgement of intellectual contributions may arise, but science is a self-contained community; most problems will not only be noticed and remedied but the perpetrator's reputation will suffer severely. To a large extent, Ness has been forced into this fear of being scooped because she has not published.

One suggestion is that Ness only sketch her methods and state that the complete methodology is available upon request, but what happens if many people make requests? Ness can also be vague in her description and omit information about her methodology, but that will cause two problems: 1) It may hurt her evaluations if peer reviewers realize that she may not have a completely workable experiment. 2) It also causes ethical concerns if Ness strays close to untruthfulness (e.g., omitting vital information). A last suggestion is that Ness can use specific jargon that is truthful but cryptic and undecipherable. Using specific jargon will probably harm her chances for funding. Unfortunately, many researchers write in jargon not to protect information but because they cannot express themselves clearly in written communications.

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Question 4

The peer review process is handled differently by different organizations. One common practice is to distribute proposals under consideration to researchers at universities and other institutions so that their feedback can be incorporated in the selection process. An explicit statement of confidentiality stating that the prohibits sharing of proposal contents. Unfortunately, professors commonly discuss the proposals with students, possibly even involving students in creating the proposal feedback to be sent back as peer review. After the peer review process concludes, the funding organization notifies all reviewers that the proposals they have in their possession should be destroyed. Unfortunately, many reviewers hold proposals for later reference. Because students who are given proposals by their professors are often unaware of the context of the research material they have been provided, the scenario depicted in this case is not that far-fetched.

Other problems from student involvement in the peer review process include: 1) feedback to the proposer(s) and possibly even award selections may be partially based on student review and not peer review; 2) when students become aware of their covert involvement in the peer review process, they may come to doubt the entire proposal process, perhaps rationalizing unethical actions on the belief that peer review cannot be trusted. On a final note, there should be an assumption of innocence until all the facts become clear. The graduate student in this case appears to be an innocent party, and the person(s) who provided him with the confidential NSF proposal appear to be guilty, but we do not know all the facts.

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Question 5

Ness can either admit her actions to the student or continue to cover-up. her actions. If she continues to try to cover up, the coverup may actually become as significant or even eclipse her original deceit. Of course, any admission will need to be complete, exhaustive and reciprocal, since Ness needs to know how the student came upon her proposal.

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Question 6

Does wrongdoing by another party ever justify wrongdoing by a researcher? In this case, does it really matter whether the NSF peer review process actually leaked confidential information? Specifically, is it introduction of the error unacceptable if the NSF peer review process has integrity and acceptable if the NSF peer review process lacks integrity? Ness must examine her own actions independent of the actions of others. A researcher cannot control the actions of others and should concentrate on her own ethical behavior. To do otherwise brings ethical behavior to the lowest common denominator.

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Question 7

I see at least two other major ethical obligations:

1. Ness has an obligation to admit to NSF that she introduced the original error into the proposal. Although it appears that the error is moot (because the proposal has concluded, the error may or may not have had any relevance to the award and the correct method has been published), the error is still significant. The story of this error may be contained to a single graduate student, but chances are that it will have a life of its own. Ness will actually be contributing to her own belief that the NSF peer review process lacks integrity, a self-fulfilling prophecy that is simply hypocritical. As for the ramifications of coming forth with such information, there may be legal actions and severe career repercussions but there also may be support for honesty. In any case, it is better for Ness to disclose her deceit earlier rather than later (i.e.., in an admission in court).
2. Ness has an ethical obligation to find out specifically how her confidential proposal was compromised and ultimately an obligation to help fix any confidentiality problem she finds in the peer review process. She cannot be divorced from the NSF peer review process. By her very participation, and subsequent selection and support, Ness must take responsibility to ensure the integrity of the NSF peer review process for herself and others.

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This case raises three primary ethical issues: 1) ownership of ideas in the scientific process; 2) understanding professional obligations toward others and oneself; and 3) power differentials between these roles that can easily be exploited. What exacerbates the ethical concerns in this case is the lack of clear communication among those involved.

In Part 1, several incidents of miscommunication or lack of communication led to each person's perceptions. Moss feels that her ideas are not receiving proper credit, that Reynolds is taking advantage of her and that Abrams is not willing to champion her cause. These feelings arise from expectations that Moss may have had before entering the laboratory. She believes that her ideas should receive personal credit and that her research mentor should protect her when conflicts arise in the lab. Abrams' mentoring style cannot accommodate Moss's wishes. However, even if Abrams' mentoring style were made explicit to Moss, unexpected situations may arise in one's career. Continued communication between Moss and Abrams seems to be lacking. Both Moss and Abrams should strive to improve communication to resolve conflicts.

Reynolds is trying to write research grants, which is of paramount importance to a post-doc. He included Moss by asking her to read the proposal, which may have been his way of respecting Moss's ideas. His responsibility to Moss is somewhat ambiguous because although he is including her, she believes that she deserves more credit The issue here is whether Reynolds is taking credit for Moss's idea, and that is not clear from the case study. It could be argued that Reynolds is the most ethical of the three because he is trying to keep the laboratory funded, he appreciated Moss's ideas enough to include them in a grant proposal, and he suggested that Moss stay involved with the project. But that ignores Moss's concerns that she is being exploited by Reynolds. Abrams is a busy researcher in a competitive field. Professors with active research programs have many demands on their time. Resolving conflicts between people in the lab may not be a high priority, especially since graduate students and post-doctoral fellows are expected to behave like responsible adults. The real issue, then, is how to create policies in the laboratory to prevent unreasonable expectations, and, when new situations arise that cause conflict, to resolve these issues. One alternative is to discuss the situation with someone outside the lab. That could lend a fresh analysis of the situation and perhaps a swift resolution of the problem. Another, more feasible, option is to have regular, individual conversations between the lab director and the employees to try to avoid confrontations.

The ownership of ideas in scientific research is an ambiguous ethical issue. The scientific community is debating whether conceptualization of an experiment constitutes work that should receive credit and, in some cases, authorship. In Part 2 of the case, both Reynolds and Abrams agree that ideas are cheap, but results are priceless. Moss feels that she deserves credit for her ideas and first shot at the bench work. Reynolds and Abrams agree that she can do the experiments, but they refuse to credit her ideas. In this particular case, Moss will get credit if she completes the experiments. If she does not do the experiments, however, will she still be acknowledged? Or more importantly, should she be acknowledged? Because the ideas belong to the laboratory, someone else may do the experiments before Moss has a chance. Unless Abrams and Reynolds agree to let Moss have the first attempt, Moss may again feel exploited. At that point, the issues of power differentials would have to be addressed.

Support for Fabio's Perspective

Support for Edgar's Position

Legal and Ethical Considerations

Initial Discussion

Additional Discussion

Ethical Milestones and Judgment

Technology has become more than ever a collaborative product at all levels. With so much emphasis in academic research on the concept of intellectual property, this case illustrates a commonly blurred area between the right to ownership of one's ideas and the "right to exclude others from making, using, or selling" an invention. The primary ethical dilemma concerns the patenting of the sampling device; a secondary issue concerns authorship requirements. People in different positions view patents and authorship differently; that is where much of the conflict originates. From a contemporary academic perspective, Edgar is clearly the person with the good idea that was developed into a new technology, and he may deserve credit. In fact, it may appear difficult to make the case for Fabio's position. However, the concept of intellectual property in the business world often relies on the axiom that "possession is nine-tenths of the law." Furthermore, the patent is more a mechanism to protect initial market position for an invention than a means for providing credit or recognition.

It may be worth noting that technology can be a rather nebulous term, involving an overall approach rather than just an instrument or device. The patent discussed in this case applies to the sampling system built by Fabio (which is only part of Edgar's idea), rather than to the overall sampling approach. In some cases, such as chemical manufacturing, a production process can be patented, but the intent in this case is not to characterize Edgar's concept for sampling as this kind of production process.

Patents require that competitors obtain direct permission from the patent holder if they wish to manufacture or market a product, invention or process covered by the patent. A patent prevents someone from "reverse engineering" Fabio's design with the intention of marketing it independently. According to law, only the inventor may apply for a patent (except in particular situations, such as when the inventor is dead). More than one person can be an inventor, but a person providing financial support to the development is not considered a joint inventor. Application for a patent requires: 1) a written document that comprises a specification and an oath that the inventor believes him/herself to be the original inventor; 2) a drawing (when necessary); and 3) the filing fees. (U. S. Department of Commerce, 1992)

However, the concept of intellectual property introduces some important questions. In science, intellectual property is primarily an issue of credit and recognition rather than the marketing or production issues addressed by a patent. The research community acknowledges the potential conflict between openness and competition for discovery. Research institutions, academic journals and federal funding sources (such as the National Science Foundation) have set standards protecting individuals with good ideas by ensuring that they receive credit for their contributions. (National Academy of Science, National Academy of Engineering, Institutes of Medicine, 1993)

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Support for Fabio's Perspective

We begin by making the case for Fabio to support an extended discussion with those more familiar with the intellectual property arguments. In this case, Fabio prepared all technical drawings and defined explicit specifications for the sampling machine. While these documents were inspired by a rough sketch and statement of needs that Edgar had defined, the initial concept was hardly a design. Analogously, many people had the idea of human flight long before the first successful design. Edgar's concept of an improved sampler may not have contained the detail required for patent until Fabio invented the specific design to solve Edgar's problem. Furthermore, Edgar entered into a financial contract with Fabio that compensated Fabio for his design. While Edgar did review the designs occasionally, there is no evidence in the case (as written) supporting Edgar as a collaborative inventor. To Fabio, Edgar's contribution could have been design review milestones in developing a customized vendor product. In fact, Fabio based much of his design on a hand-operated sampling machine that he clearly invented without Edgar. These arguments are all consistent with patent guidance supporting Fabio as the inventor.

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Support for Edgar's Position

It appears clear that Edgar saw the application of this new technology as his idea, his intellectual property. After all, he recognized the need to improve current sampling methods and took all the necessary steps to implement his idea. He sketched out a concept that became the basis for the design or at least inspired it. Edgar approached Doris to secure half the development funds and hired Fabio to fabricate - not invent - the design concept. Edgar provided more than the initial design concept; he suggested to Fabio other technologies to be integrated into a system design. Fabio accepted these additional ideas as part of the collaborative effort that included joint review and development of the drawings and specifications. Simply put, without Edgar this design would not have existed in its current form. And Edgar is not claiming to be the sole inventor, he just wants to be named on the patent.

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Legal and Ethical Considerations

From a legal point of view, Fabio may have more evidence that he designed the system. He holds all detailed specifications and drawings. Edgar never used his professional engineering license to stamp or approve the design. (In fact, Edgar may have been outside his practice area if he had because the device is a mechanical system, not a civil engineering design.) The case can be made that Edgar's contributions to the project were financial rather than design. Edgar can certainly contest these arguments, but he has less evidence in hand. By putting his design ideas into loose files instead of his project notebook, he may have weakened his position. However, Edgar does hold some legal ground. That loose file can be offered as evidence despite the legal preference for bound research notes. He can show the contract with Fabio as defining the design concepts and argue that he is a co-inventor. Edgar can claim that the design reviews with Fabio were not simply contractual milestones between vendor and client, but important collaborative discussions on the system design. He has Doris (at least), whose early approval he sought to pursue this idea further, although in her press releases she identified the design as Fabio's. These legal claims have never been made in this case.

Ethically, the characters in this case did not identify any problem until the patent issue arose. Edgar seemed more interested in the intellectual insights that improved sampling would provide, and he was proud to publish articles discussing the sampling protocol he pioneered (which used the technology built by Fabio). He was not particularly interested in the legal benefits of a patent, namely the right to license the design to competing vendors or exclude them from using the design. As a leading vendor in the field, Fabio has a clear interest in improving his product line and competitive position in the market. He benefited from the articles published by Edgar, even without being an author, because Fabio could cite current research claims as testimonials that his design was high quality and cost effective. If Fabio had not applied for a patent, would this case raise any ethical issues at all?

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Initial Discussion

The initial questions for discussion try to clarify some of these issues. Many researchers do not consider vendors or technicians to be colleagues involved in innovations; they are rarely included as authors. Discussing Edgar's role in meeting with Fabio to review the drawings and specifications may identify underlying bias in the participants. (This case was specifically designed so that Fabio was an outside vendor, perhaps not covered by the intellectual property policies of Edgar's research institution.)

Whether or not Edgar should have included Fabio as an author may be discussed within the context of the Academies' standards and/or by using some journals' actual authorship guidelines. The primary issue is whether each named author made a significant intellectual contribution to the paper. Depending on the focus of Edgar's papers, Fabio could have made a significant contribution to the design of the sampling protocol by building the sampling machine. Alternatively, Edgar could have focused on field development and testing in such a way that Fabio's contribution was less significant. Consensus on this point may be more difficult than it appears.

Some guidelines for authorship may include:

1. Conception and design of the experiment;
2. Execution of the experiment and collection and storage of the supporting data;
3. Analysis and interpretation of the primary data; and
4. Preparation and revision of the manuscript. (National Academy of Science, National Academy of Engineering, Institutes of Medicine, 1993, p. 52)

The question of including Edgar on the patent may be ethically clearer, if not legally so. Fabio may have a business concern about including Edgar on the patent, because as a patent holder Edgar could participate in licensing the technology to Fabio's competitors. General Information Concerning Patents states, "Any joint owner of a patent, no matter how small the part interest, may make, use, and sell the invention for his or her own profit, without regard to the other owner." (U. S. Department of Commerce, 1992, p. 27) This right includes selling one's interest or granting licenses to others without consulting the other joint owner, unless the joint owners of the patent agree to other conditions independent of the patent. Edgar's desire for recognition as an inventor could be legitimate ethically. With some better negotiation, Edgar and Fabio may have found conditions that met both of their objectives. For example, Fabio could retain all licensing rights and a majority ownership of the patent. Edgar could be named on the patent, but his share of royalties or licensing fees could be limited. This kind of agreement is common within corporations.

Mac may also have some claim to the patent if his contribution in field development resulted in significant design elements in the patent; his contribution is unclear, however. It appears that Doris has no claim as an inventor since she provided only financial support. By publicizing the technology in company literature, she may have added to the motivations for Fabio to seek patent protection. Doris's role, as presented in the commentary and to some extent in the case, does not clearly indicate sufficient contribution to warrant co-authorship. Perhaps she was invited to be a co-author by Edgar as a courtesy for her support. This question could be briefly discussed as another ethical issue related to this study.

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Additional Discussion

The additional information included in the case attempts to further clarify the legal and ethical analysis. By weakening Edgar's legal case somewhat, the discussion necessarily focuses on the ethical dimensions. Some participants may follow the weakening legal position and conclude that Fabio is the sole designer of the technology; others who are more secure in the academic concept of intellectual property may continue to defend Edgar's position. One can introduce additional scenarios where Edgar might have included some intellectual property agreement into his initial contract with Fabio. If this happens, it may be valuable to adopt Fabio's perspective again and challenge the fairness of this agreement regarding patent ownership.

The question about Fabio's education relative to Edgar's is designed to expose for discussion any underlying preference in academic research for the intellectual authority. This concern is also relevant in corporate research. There are many cases where ideas that were developed by the technicians or junior engineers/researchers were adopted by their supervisors without credit. Despite the potential for these abuses, this may be more of a confounding question than necessary, and could be quickly put aside in discussion if no debate occurs.

When we change the contractual relationship between Edgar and Fabio from client/vendor to fellow employees - and, moreover, to supervisor and subordinate - the assessment may change. First, it becomes constrained by any applicable prior agreements within the institution. (This point could provide a good opportunity to review the research facility's policies on ownership of ideas.) Second, the responsibility for work products such as a new design may be less clearly defined. Edgar is the principal investigator and may be considered in responsible charge of all the products of this research. His authority may improve his claim to the design and patent, although it should not displace Fabio from the patent.

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Ethical Milestones and Judgment

We can identify many places where Edgar could have acted to clarify his claim to the intellectual property and as co-inventor. Some suggested opportunities include:

1. Conception: Edgar could have used his field notebook, or another personal notebook, to document his design concept better.
2. Initial contract with Fabio: Edgar could have discussed the implications of the idea with Fabio initially, perhaps documenting some agreement about final disposition of the technology. At a minimum, they might have agreed to explicitly discuss the topic during design review intervals.
3. Publishing results: Edgar could have included Fabio as a coauthor, using these opportunities to share credit with Fabio. These were opportunities to begin (or reopen) discussion about the potential patent. In this regard, Edgar seems to have ignored the value of a patent until Fabio's patent application.
4. Following patent application: Edgar could have retained a patent attorney to review the evidence. The case may be strong enough to contest, or at least strong enough to reopen discussion with Fabio about joint ownership. There are mechanisms to add a name to a patent after filing when another inventor should be included. This could be the least effective strategy for Edgar and it may be the most costly.

In assessing the ultimate fairness of the outcome, two perspectives may be useful. One takes the initial motivations of each of the characters into account. From this perspective, it can be argued that all achieved their initial objectives. Sampling at Doris's site benefited from improved sampling protocols and from positive public relations. Mac received good field experience and co-authorship in journal publications. Edgar achieved all of the objectives he had for the research, published well-respected articles and received promotion. Edgar's intellectual property claims to the research results were never contested. Fabio expanded his product line to include a new system for sampling, improving his reputation as a vendor, and protected his product design from competition by patenting the technology.

The other perspective is whether the design idea was collaborative. If so, then it may be most ethical for Fabio to include Edgar on the patent. However, Fabio has an interest in negotiating with Edgar limited authority to sell or license the technology to Fabio's competitors. Edgar might have some ethical obligation to share authorship with Fabio as well. This perspective would require more negotiation between the two characters to achieve a satisfactory result. The meanings we attach to the terms concurrent engineering, team development, etc., have important implications for both intellectual property and patent protection.

Certainly, the opportunities to resolve the concerns raised here were most available early on. With the increased complexity of technology and interdisciplinary teams in research, this point becomes the central lesson to draw from the case.

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References

• U. S. Department of Commerce, General Information Concerning Patents. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1992.
• National Academy of Science, National Academy of Engineering, Institute of Medicine. Responsible Science: Ensuring the Integrity of the Research Process, vol 1. Washington, D. C.: National Academy Press, 1993.
• Martin, M. W., and Schinzinger, R. Ethics in Engineering. New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., York, 1983.
• Harris, C. E.; Pritchard, M. S.; and Rabins, M. J. Engineering Ethics: Concepts and Cases. New York: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1995.