Preparing Researchers for an Era of Freer Information
As “entrepreneurial universities” become the norm, institutional leadership must take a more active role in supporting and preparing researchers for public freedom of information requests.
If you Google my name along with “Monsanto,” you will find a series of allegations from 2013 that my scholarly work at the University of Saskatchewan, focused on technological change in the global food system, had been unduly influenced by corporations. The allegations made use of seven freedom of information (FOI) requests. Although leadership at my university determined that my publications were consistent with university policy, the ensuing media attention, I feel, has led some colleagues, students, and partners to distance themselves to avoid being implicated by association.
In the years since, I’ve realized that my experience is not unique. I have communicated with other academics who have experienced similar FOI requests related to genetically modified organisms in the United States, Canada, England, Netherlands, and Brazil. And my field is not the only one affected: a 2015 Union of Concerned Scientists report documented requests in multiple states and disciplines—from history to climate science to epidemiology—as well as across ideologies. In the University of California system alone, researchers have received open records requests related to research on the health effects of toxic chemicals, the safety of abortions performed by clinicians rather than doctors, and the green energy production infrastructure. These requests are made possible by laws that permit anyone, for any reason, to gain access to public agencies’ records.
These open records campaigns, which are conducted by individuals and groups across the political spectrum, arise in part from the confluence of two unrelated phenomena: the changing nature of academic research toward more translational, interdisciplinary, and/or team-based investigations and the push for more transparency in taxpayer-funded institutions. Neither phenomenon is inherently negative; in fact, there are strong advantages for science and society in both trends. But problems arise when scholars are caught between them—affecting the individuals involved and potentially influencing the ongoing conduct of research.
Academic institutions are often intimately involved in these situations as both state institutions and employers. They provide institutional incentives for individual researchers to be involved in industry and community research, and they also mediate public information requests and any public relations issues. Yet cases like mine often fall into a gray area where internal administrative processes for handling such requests are unclear, and researchers are left to navigate requests as well as controversies alone.
In an environment where the public is likely to continue to expect increasing transparency in the ways that research is conducted, I believe institutions must take steps to help scholars navigate the process of doing research and responding to open records requests. These steps include developing new standards for partnerships and then educating, guiding, and directly supporting researchers to comply efficiently and effectively with such requests. Perhaps most importantly, academic institutions must plan ahead for external challenges to research to be able to both fulfill legitimate requests for disclosure and support faculty researchers if requests are frivolous or vexatious.
The changing nature of academic research and the push for transparency
Over the past century, universities have evolved from being cloistered knowledge centers to multifaceted research enterprises. Sociologist Henry Etzkowitz asserts that the “entrepreneurial university” has an almost unbounded scope of activity. Today, both funders and researchers seek to advance knowledge that can be applied in the economy, society, or other arenas. Research has become more mission-oriented and interdisciplinary. Funders often require projects leverage additional resources from potential users and encourage proactive knowledge translation to generate real-world effects, along with the traditional metric of academic journal publications. Between 2000 and 2021, the business sector increased its funding of basic research in U.S. institutions from $10.4 billion to $36 billion (about 36% of the total), while federal funding remained relatively constant at $40 billion, according to the National Center for Science and Engineering Statistics. In Canada, universities performed about C$16 billion in research in 2022, with C$1.2 billion or 7.5% funded by businesses and C$1.5 billion or 9.4% funded by the not-for-profit sector. While external funding for Canadian basic research has not risen as much as in the United States, a 2017 report, Investing in Canada’s Future: Strengthening the Foundations of Canadian Research, concluded that scholars, scientists, and trainees wishing to pursue fully independent research saw a decline of available real resources per researcher of about 35% from 2007 to 2016. Over the same period, priority-driven funding grew by 35%.
Outside influence is growing also because of changes in the way research itself is done. Whereas in the past a funder might contract for directed research from a single researcher, today researchers often participate in larger networked teams. This trend is driven by explicit missions set by foundations (e.g., the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation or Rockefeller Foundation), governments (e.g., the Human Genome Project), and long-standing and new granting agencies that define priority themes, demand leveraging, use merit rather than peer review, and require dissemination of results beyond peer-reviewed publication. The result is larger and more diverse teams of researchers, funders, and end users. These networked teams often overlap with other networks and teams both locally and globally, so that it is much more difficult to distinguish where lines of influence may lie than it was in the past.
This expansion is occurring in a larger context in which universities, peers, and funders increasingly encourage investigators to link up with governments, commercial enterprises, communities, philanthropic foundations, and advocacy groups to design research that delivers results for the good of society. Proponents of this approach argue that involving end users in research priority-setting, study design, and dissemination should improve the focus and impact of the efforts. When scholars are working with disadvantaged or at-risk communities, this approach has the potential to empower those actors and produce need-based results in new ways. However, when the external partner or funder is a corporation or government agency, important questions about undue influence or conflict of interest may be raised.
One fear is that incentives for researchers to produce findings, combined with the inducement of money, may enable the industry partner to bend research to its will, potentially leading to the distortion of research findings. In their 2010 book, Merchants of Doubt, Naomi Oreskes and Erik M. Conway provide a damning analysis of how the tobacco industry was able to do just that for an extended period from the 1950s to the 1970s. This influence becomes most problematic when industry, governments, and NGOs contribute to public interest research funded by peer-reviewed grants, as each may have an interest in results that favor, say, a particular product, program, or policy. Thus, conflicts can potentially arise between the researcher’s duty to create unbiased knowledge and the interests of the funders.
There is nothing new about university researchers being sponsored. Government bodies including the military have long commissioned research on medical topics, land management, ocean science, and space exploration; industry similarly has contributed significantly to research on agricultural productivity, resource extraction, and manufacturing technologies. To counter concerns about the potential for sponsorships to bias knowledge production, universities have established conflict of interest disclosure requirements. Many universities offer and sometimes mandate training in responsible research while university-based research ethics boards work to preemptively identify and address concerns arising from such arrangements.
As sponsored research proliferates, freedom of information laws have emerged as a powerful mechanism to scrutinize relationships between academics who receive public funding from external partners.
More than 100 countries have some form of freedom of information laws on the books; the oldest was established in Sweden in 1766. Federal laws in the United States and Canada went into effect, respectively, in 1966 (Freedom of Information Act, updated most recently in 2020) and 1985 (Access to Information Act, last amended in 2024). Such laws have also proliferated beyond the national level, with all 50 US states and all Canadian provinces establishing their own open records laws for state/provincial and local authorities. While public universities are covered under those national and subnational laws, provisions vary, sometimes widely, and the administration of those different provisions can lead to differences in outcomes. Private universities are notionally exempt except when they receive public funds, which is the case for nearly all of them. These variations can open the door to multiple interpretations. In my area of study, some universities in other jurisdictions are willing and able to block most FOI requests, while in other regions universities and the relevant oversight offices default to full and open access, sometimes beyond what is required in the law.
Many of these laws predate the widespread advent of electronic communications such as emails, texts, messaging apps, and collaboration tools like shared drives and the cloud. In addition to creating easily searched records of interactions, these electronic communications have also enabled academic collaborations among researchers at institutions that may span multiple jurisdictions that are subject to different laws. All of this creates further layers of complexity when researchers are subject to FOI requests.
Complying with freedom of information laws requires academic institutions to balance transparency and accountability against potential damage to the culture of open scientific exchange. The University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) Statement on the Principles of Scholarly Research and Public Records Requests spells out this tension, calling it “a matter of great concern that faculty at public universities throughout the country are increasingly the objects” of public records requests. The statement goes on to note that “these requests have increasingly been used for political purposes or to intimidate faculty working on controversial issues. These onerous, politically motivated, or frivolous requests may inhibit the very communications that nourish excellence in research and teaching, threatening the long-established principles of scholarly research.”
Scholars and institutions engaged with research that receives corporate or other non-public funding also need thorough guidance on which materials may be subject to open records requests. Third-party and commercial confidential materials are largely exempt from FOI statutes, but it helps if exemptions are clearly identified in correspondence as such. The main area of contention is unpublished research and scholarly communications (what some call “academic research work product,” often treated as trade secrets in other settings) that form the “scientific deliberative process.”
The distinction between which parts of the research process should be protected and which should be open to the full scrutiny of both peers and the broader community is subject to broad interpretation and usually assessed on a case-by-case basis. National and state/provincial statutes offer limited direction, as they are relatively general in order to be applicable to a wide range of actors. In this situation, each academic institution is left to develop its own compliance policies and procedures. Rather than leaving it to individual researchers or the courts, academic institutions must take a leadership role in defining appropriate boundaries and promulgating that information widely.
Preparing scholars and universities to balance transparency with academic freedom
Addressing these gray areas will require universities to develop processes to clarify norms and protect academic freedom. Recognizing that academic institutions do not control open records laws—legislatures make them while courts determine their application—academic leaders should work to help individual researchers navigate FOI systems and requirements. Research-engaged institutions should begin with three practical steps: developing new standards for engaged research contracts and partnerships; providing best practices and training to scholars; and planning ahead for controversies.
Institutions and funders must develop standards for research contracts and partnerships that explicitly acknowledge the power dynamics of sponsored research—specifically, the rights and obligations of each party to influence what is done—and to identify how the researcher and sponsors will manage any conflicts of expectations and interests. Notably, some individual scholars have begun proactively disclosing all of their funding, consulting, and other engagements in public talks and on their websites. Although these statements may be comprehensive, sometimes they offer little or no insight into how any specific research activities might be influenced. Universal declarations of funding are too nebulous to clarify the complex nature of research relationships.
Many journals, such as Nature, and professional associations, including the American Association for the Advancement of Science, provide guidelines for scholars on how to disclose their interests in more meaningful ways. But this is only part of the challenge. Rather than leaving it to individual researchers to decide what to declare, when, where, and how, research institutions should develop guidelines to specify transparent and auditable disclosures that are specific to particular research activities and outputs. These should include proactive disclosure of funders, research goals, management structures for the research, and knowledge transfer plans; processes for archiving management decisions; advice on effective research communications; and clear rules on which individuals should be responsible for managing information in each project, program, or unit.
Developing and disseminating such guidelines will also have the effect of causing those engaged in the research process to think more carefully about the roles assigned to community, nonprofit, or industry partners. While researchers know where they want full discretion to make choices about their work, and granting agencies assert they want to protect that autonomy, partners may believe they should be allowed to have a voice in or even direct where the research goes. Clarification of these responsibilities will help to establish norms that should reduce uncertainty and potential conflict.
Among the areas that need clarification is how research teams determine the timing, scope, methods, and reporting of research results, particularly when findings could have some material impact on funders’ interests. This is not an abstract concern: there is widespread evidence that some sponsored pharmaceutical researchers delay or never publish results of clinical studies that raise uncertainty about the efficacy of candidate drugs. Critics also point to the way research questions have been framed to deliver favorable findings in industry-sponsored research on the role of soft drinks in obesity and the health benefits of specific fruits, chocolate, and even alcohol. But industry is not the only research sponsor that may wish for favorable findings. As patient advocacy organizations have become involved in the funding and conduct of research, sometimes with funding from drug companies, questions about their motives and conflicts of interest have arisen. Although clearer statements of academic norms and principles are a step in the right direction, explicit contracts may be warranted in the future.
The US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) Office of Research Integrity has a set of questions designed to help create transparency in relationships and expectations among the collaborating scientists. This office suggests an agreement that lays out the scientific issues, goals, and anticipated outcomes or products of the collaboration; the expected contributions of each participant, and the allocation of the rights to exploit any discoveries, as well as the standards for data handling. Such agreements should be explicit about the role each participant plays in defining the problem, the methods used in the research, and the ways the results will be interpreted. Granting agencies or host institutions should provide a template to use for disclosure and develop a system to manage a repository for these releases. Although the HHS recommendations are for agreements among scientists on a research team, the questions can also be useful in defining relationships between researchers and sponsors.
Just as importantly, the timing of releases matters. There is a trend in many scientific fields to preregister one’s research design to guard against researchers’ defining their hypothesis only after they know what the study has delivered. The Center for Open Science favors preregistration, noting that it separates hypothesis-generating (exploratory) research from hypothesis-testing (confirmatory) research.
These and other measures would help ensure that funders have a limited amount of input into and control over research direction, design, and publication of findings and would build in accountability for researchers as well.
Second, academic institutions should do more to set norms and educate researchers as they consider pursuing funding from industry, governments, and nonprofits. Universities can and should more clearly define standard operating principles and procedures for proper research engagement in these circumstances. Most investigators have had conversations with funders about what they can and cannot expect from their work and sometimes discover that funders without much experience seek to help identify the basic problem, define models and methods to be used, and either proscribe or predefine the conclusions. Managing these conversations about boundaries is not easy, especially for less senior researchers; but, in my experience, few institutions provide much guidance. In 2023, Harvard’s vice provost for research established two ad hoc committees to develop guidelines for corporate relations: one is focused on research policies and practices, and the other on relationships between researchers and corporate sponsors. In another positive step, some universities have established offices that help researchers establish and manage partnerships with industry, such as the University of Michigan’s office of Corporate Research Alliances.
Academic institutions should also educate researchers in the proper use of email and other types of electronic communication, with explicit attention to open records laws. Traditionally, many scholars have viewed email as a medium for informal interactions and banter, which can serve a legitimate role in advancing scholarship. As the UCLA statement puts it: “Scholars frequently test ideas in extreme form, explore possibilities through hypotheticals, or play ‘devil’s advocate,’ making claims they may not themselves believe in edgy, casual language not intended for public circulation or publication. These communications are frequent and diverse in nature because scholarship is a competitive and fast-paced process, requiring intensive communication among a diverse array of participants.” However, when such exchanges are made public either through FOI requests or by hacking, they can be taken out of context and used to impugn scholars’ credibility. In effect, researchers need to have situational awareness and remember that workplace-based content exchanged through any email system, or on apps like Slack, is not a personal expression but a use of public resources.
One eminently practical bit of advice from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill’s senior director for public records is that scholars share documents with colleagues using a shared drive like OneDrive instead of emailing versions around, so that any public release will include only the most recent version of the document. In my own case, some of the initial FOI searches stretched to thousands of pages because many versions of the same reports had been exchanged by email. All but the last version were removed manually, but that took a significant amount of time and effort by the university privacy officer to ensure we were only removing duplicates.
To help scholars, institutions should offer training and support on best practices in efficient and effective communications among researchers, their industrial or community partners, and the public. Just as resources to train scholars and citizens how to make FOIA requests are publicly available on websites, there should be more widely available resources to proactively educate researchers about obligations and best practices for managing their files and communications and for complying with information requests. The National Association for Biomedical Research, for example, has a guide for researchers doing research with animals who may be targeted by animal rights groups. Likewise, the Union of Concerned Scientists created an advisory booklet to help scientists distinguish legitimate questioning from harassment and provide advice on how to respond effectively to both. There is a clear need for individual academic institutions to take a more active role in educating their researchers about effective communications to make sure any problems that arise don’t decrease public trust in the university itself.
Third, institutions should anticipate and plan for the types of controversies that frequently emerge from funded research projects with the potential for significant impact and heightened public scrutiny. When scholars are asked—sometimes constructively, sometimes maliciously—to account for their actions, they often are responding to public questioning from the media and funders at the same time they are being reviewed internally by faculty councils and administrative units within their institutions. Researchers, sponsors, and the university should have a plan in place designating who will lead the response to avoid ad hoc, disordered, or inconsistent responses.
Today, universities too often handle controversial cases as one-offs about a specific researcher or a field, rather than seeing them as part of a systematic issue with the potential to undermine confidence in the usefulness of research findings for decisionmaking. Thoughtful structures and established procedures to steer researchers’ interactions with funders and to respond to public requests for transparency would go a long way to assure researchers, funders, those affected by the research, and the general public that these types of controversies are handled fairly and with appropriate deference to both the public interest and the intellectual independence of researchers.
The onus is on the academy and its partners to find a way to deliver engaged scholarship that respects and defends the unique strengths of each actor. Many of the compelling challenges facing our world require collaboration between scholars working in academic settings and people living and working in the nonacademic settings impacted by those scholars’ work. It is incumbent on all involved to manage research processes and dissemination of findings in ways that protect the integrity of the research itself. In the words of the University of Chicago Statement on Freedom of Expression, “without a vibrant commitment to free and open inquiry, a university ceases to be a university. The … long-standing commitment to this principle lies at the very core of our … greatness. That is our inheritance, and it is our promise to the future.”