Les gardiens de la raison: Enquête sur la désinformation scientifique by Stéphane Foucart, Stéphane Horel, and Sylvain Laurens explores how certain intellectuals and scientists in France, the new “guardians of reason” have positioned themselves as gatekeepers of scientific truth. These figures, who often criticize “pseudoscience” or “obscurantism,” work to reinforce corporate interests, especially in sectors like agrochemicals, biotechnology, and pharmaceuticals.
These so-called “rationalists” discredit environmental movements and public health advocates, accusing them of alarmism or irrationality. By exposing links between these defenders of reason and various industries, the book questions whether their claims of defending science are objective or if they are influenced by financial and ideological motivations. The book is a critique of how certain forms of scientific authority are constructed and used in public debates, often at the expense of environmental and health concerns.
An interesting aspect of the “rationalist” or “defenders of reason” movement in France is its ideological shift over time. Originally rooted in a left-wing, often communist intellectual tradition in the mid-20th century, it has gradually aligned more with neoliberal centrism and, at times, even right-wing positions. Historically, rationalism in France, especially post-Enlightenment, was closely tied to progressive and left-wing movements. Thinkers like Voltaire, Diderot, Compte, and other philosophes promoted reason, science, and secularism as tools to combat superstition, religious dogma, and monarchy. This intellectual tradition continued into the 20th century, focusing on rationalism and scientific progress as aligned, to some extent, with human liberation, social justice, and opposition to oppressive systems. However, beginning in the latter half of the 20th century, this intellectual tradition began to shift, particularly in response to environmental and public health movements. The left, traditionally associated with progressivism and science, became more critical of certain technological and scientific developments (nuclear energy, GMOs, industrial agriculture), raising concerns about their social and ecological impacts. The rise of environmentalism, anti-globalization movements, and critiques of neoliberal capitalism started to question the uncritical embrace of technological progress. During this time, some figures who had been staunch defenders of reason and scientific objectivity began to distance themselves from these new left-wing critiques. Instead, they portrayed themselves as protectors of “objective” science against what they saw as an irrational or populist backlash. This shift was visible in the debates around GMOs, where public health activists, ecologists, and anti-capitalist movements were accused of being anti-science. In the 2000s, the movement crystallized with intellectuals who positioned themselves as defenders of scientific rationality against what they perceived as the growing influence of populism, pseudoscience, and obscurantism. The movement’s leading figures framed itself as champions of scientific progress, often downplaying the risks associated with corporate interests.
A related thread is on the precautionary principle. The authors argue that these defenders of reason tend to frame the precautionary principle as anti-scientific or irrational, associating it with fearmongering or opposition to technological progress, The precautionary principle, broadly speaking, suggests that in the face of uncertain risks to health or the environment, policy should err on the side of caution even when scientific certainty is lacking. Critics of the principle—including some scientists and public intellectuals with ties to corporate interests—argue that this principle restricts innovation and economic growth. The authors suggest that this opposition to the precautionary principle is often ideologically motivated. Defenders of rationalism may downplay potential risks associated with new technologies or industrial practices because of their alignment with neoliberal, pro-market values.
The book ends with philosophical musings on the difficulty of achieving objectivity in the human sciences. To the authors, a guardian of reason like Gérald Bronner can’t simply claim to be on the side of reason and science while pushing a right-wing agenda. Research is guided by values, and when confronted with the same data, two researchers in the human sciences can arrive at different conclusions. This reflects a form of epistemic relativism. Yet, the authors conclude that there is a kind of historical objectivity through the “intersection of subjectivities and the confrontation with historical materials and evidence, allowing us to move beyond mere juxtaposition of opinions and access truly universal statements.” This is a sleight of hand—either you have objectivity, or you don’t.1 Either people think the advantages of colonialism outweighed the disadvantages or they don’t, or they have some kind of middle-of-the-road position, but the point is there’s an irreducible opinion based component of any research in the human and social sciences. Value judgments ultimately sneak in to your analysis. You can’t study everything, so the choice of what you describe or study matters. Or, you think that the status quo is more ok than not, or the converse. This impacts your research, and the kind of strange Hegelian maneuver where we “move beyond mere juxtaposition of opinions and access truly universal statements” doesn’t do anything, it’s not in fact the case.
Similarly, where we stand on the precautionary principle is fundamentally value-based rather than purely scientific. The principle itself hinges on how society values risk, uncertainty, and responsibility toward potential harm, particularly when scientific certainty is lacking. Science can identify risks and assess probabilities, but it cannot tell us how to act in situations where risk is uncertain or how much precaution is ‘enough’. The decision to adopt the precautionary principle reflects a value-based choice about how much weight we give to potential harms, the moral obligation to prevent harm, and the willingness to accept or forego certain benefits or innovations to avoid those risks. For instance, prioritizing caution in environmental or public health policy often reflects a value placed on preventing harm, even at the cost of slowing technological progress or economic gain. Conversely, prioritizing innovation and growth, even in the face of some uncertainty, reflects values that might favor economic development and trust in human capacity to mitigate future risks.
I’m not Schmittian or anything, but come on. At some level, in some sense, in the public sphere, people do disagree and are enemies. Sure, the Habermassian discussion is helpful. Toleration, open-mindedness, etc., that is essential. But, no, it does not lead to achieving mutual understanding and (truly universal) consensus based on reason. It’s a myth, an ideal. In practice, people do disagree. Truth, on these matters, is a convenient fiction, a regulative ideal.
The tendency to frame fundamentally value-based arguments as if they align with robust science is often a technique to win people over. Those seeking to change the status quo commonly use this approach—whether it’s Musk, Lenin, or neoliberals centrists looking to grow their businesses. In contrast, left-wing journalists and intellectuals (like Foucart and his colleagues) who focus on “exploring” societal harms avoid such tactics. Both perspectives are essential.
Footnotes
I think we have objectivity in scientific description but subjectivity in scientific narratives, in general. The later applies both to human and social science, and meta-science. The quote about, “confrontation with historical materials” that’s bullshit. There’s objectivity in scientific description, and then there’s a public sphere where people discuss.↩︎