In a poignant address delivered on September 28, 1995, Amo Houghton, a Republican Congressman from New York, paid tribute to the Office of Technology Assessment (OTA) as it prepared to cease operations. Houghton, a World War II veteran and a dedicated Christian, spent nearly two decades promoting civility and bipartisan collaboration in Congress. His colleague, the late John Lewis, characterized him as someone who believed in making meaningful contributions to society.

"Mr. Speaker," Houghton began, "the OTA, which has served this Congress with remarkable distinction for over twenty years, will close its doors." He described OTA as a nurturing environment where colleagues formed familial bonds and shared experiences of joy and sorrow, transcending status and hierarchy. Houghton emphasized OTA's role as a vital resource for Congress, providing essential, unbiased insights into scientific and technological matters.

Houghton's admiration for the OTA was well-founded. The agency was globally recognized as a leader among its peers, effectively analyzing and synthesizing cutting-edge research to guide crucial federal policy. Notably, Foreign Affairs remarked that "The Office of Technology Assessment produces the best writing on security-related technical issues in the entire United States."

Unlike typical government agencies, OTA was known for its productivity, innovation, and bipartisan approach. This raises the question: why eliminate it?

Established by Congress in 1972, the OTA was created in response to growing concerns that policymakers often lacked access to relevant technical information. Lawmakers recognized that understanding the social, economic, and legal ramifications of technological initiatives was essential. This was true in the 1960s and remains painfully relevant today.

Without the OTA's expertise, Congress struggled to safeguard the nation from nuclear threats or compete with the Soviet Union in space exploration. In the 1960s, the House allocated funds for a range of outlandish projects, from deploying bombs on bats to artificial auroras and even creating pills to see in the dark.

The OTA was introduced through a bipartisan effort led by Democratic Congressman Daddario from Connecticut and Republican Congressman Mosher from Ohio. Mosher stressed the need for reliable professional guidance, stating, "Too often, we in Congress are flying blind." The OTA was designed to be a dedicated resource for Congress, offering comprehensive and precise technical advice.

President Nixon signed the OTA bill into law on October 13, 1972. Over the next 24 years, the agency generated more than 750 assessments, technical papers, and case studies, many of which became foundational references across various fields, including economics, environmental policy, and health. By collaborating with thousands of experts from diverse sectors, OTA effectively operated on an annual budget of less than $20 million—a fraction of the military spending Congress approved in recent years.

For 25 years, OTA's impartiality and efficacy were universally praised. The agency produced critical reports on topics such as acid rain and public health, with a former U.S. Trade Representative referring to its 1992 report on trade and the environment as "the Bible."

Lawmakers from opposing parties frequently referenced OTA reports to support their positions. The San Diego Union highlighted OTA as the most efficient agency on the Hill, emphasizing its apolitical nature. OTA's reports distilled complex technical information, outlined challenges, and evaluated alternatives, effectively framing policy debates.

However, its neutrality ultimately contributed to its downfall.

The 1992 elections ushered in a wave of anti-incumbent sentiment, resulting in significant turnover in Congress. While Democrats retained control, a newly elected Republican bloc emerged, characterized by aggressive conservatism. The 1994 mid-term elections solidified Republican dominance, led by Newt Gingrich's "Contract with America," which promised significant reductions in government spending.

Eliminating the OTA, the smallest congressional agency, would bolster Republican credibility in budget cuts. Critics accused the OTA of slow report production, and Gingrich dismissed it as an "unnecessary middleman" between legislators and experts.

Yet, as I argue, the rationale for maintaining a buffer between lawmakers and scientific experts is crucial. Without this intermediary, politicians may lack the expertise to critically assess complex claims. Direct access to scientists allows lawmakers to cherry-pick information that aligns with their agendas, further politicizing scientific discourse.

This shift transformed Congress's engagement with science and technology. The absence of a dedicated agency for technical assistance left the door open for lobbyists and consultants to fill the void. Following his congressional tenure, Gingrich established a consulting firm reportedly generating over $100 million annually. A significant portion of lawmakers transitioning to lucrative lobbying positions illustrates the incentivization of self-interest.

This dynamic poses dangers: it encourages candidates driven by personal gain and subjects scientific integrity to political manipulation. OTA's role extended beyond practical support; it provided a normative framework necessary for informed policy discussions. Lawmakers needed to share fundamental understandings of scientific issues to engage in meaningful debates.

The lack of a credible vetting agency diminishes public confidence in science. Without rigorous standards, any source can be deemed credible, leading to a dangerous equivalence between legitimate research and dubious claims.

Previously established scientific principles provided boundaries for managing societal issues. However, when scientific consensus contradicts political agendas, it becomes advantageous to divert attention from legitimate discourse.

If the goal is to maximize short-term benefits without considering long-term societal impacts, ignorance becomes a strategic advantage. Unfortunately, our political system increasingly resembles a state of negligence.

In computer programming, Conway’s Law states, "Every system is perfectly designed to produce the results it produces." The current congressional structure has produced lawmakers like Ted Stevens, who famously mischaracterized the Internet as "a series of tubes," raising concerns about their capacity to address pressing issues like cybersecurity.

Congress has created an environment that fosters ignorance among lawmakers, leading to detrimental consequences for the American public. While we cannot determine what might have occurred had the OTA persisted, we are left with a system that exacerbates climate change, enables electoral interference, and contributes to significant public health crises.

On the eve of OTA's closure, Amo Houghton solemnly addressed the House, noting, "OTA soon will be a memory, and we will discover what is lost." Twenty-five years later, we can confidently assert that we know exactly what was lost.

Originally published at http://millenialmanac.com on September 29, 2020.