Securing STEM-in-Society Programs

In “STEM-in-Society Programs Deserve Institutional Support” (Issues, Summer 2025), Shobita Parthasarathy and Erin Burkett provide a long overdue assessment of the range of these programs in the United States. Many of us have an intuitive sense for the map of these programs, but we have lacked a systematic assessment of their institutional strengths and struggles and what is needed to ensure their continued relevance and existence. As the authors note, programs that study the complex relationships between technical production and social forces are as crucial now as they have ever been, and are well positioned to teach a new generation of students—in both the STEM fields and the humanities—how to navigate the complexities of a technological society. But such programs are rarely secure.

Several things Parthasarathy and Burkett cite ring true for me, as chair of one of the oldest such programs and one of the few fully realized departments, but here I will address directly the question of boundaries. The tension between openness and boundary policing in STEM-in-society programs has existed from the start and requires careful, ongoing management. Unlike the professionalized academic fields of history, philosophy, or social studies of science, which emerged with relatively clear boundaries, many STEM-in-society programs were started as collaborations among scientists, social scientists, and humanists focused on exploring and solving social problems. New programs still often sprout up because of a localized collaboration among people from divergent fields.

However, as the authors suggest, STEM-in-society classes, stand-alone projects, and even new degrees are increasingly offered by STEM programs and individuals that have limited expertise in the social dimensions of their areas of technical expertise. Such activities often recapitulate assumptions and approaches that have long been critiqued or dismissed, while shielding students from sorely needed critical perspectives and undermining the humanistic and social-scientific expertise that is so crucial at this moment.

Our program has struggled with the problem of boundary policing, and we have often found that cooperative engagement rather than confrontational resistance is the best approach. Sometimes colleagues attempting to establish STEM-in-society outposts in STEM departments appear to lack knowledge about what we do, or seem to feel that we are too critical, too abstract and academic, and that we offer courses too general to accomplish the specific professional or training goals they desire for their students. It might take some discussion to show these colleagues why a general course in “technology ethics” or “engineering cultures” could serve their students better than a field-specific course in “professional ethics” or a “fun” course in “history of the automobile” taught by non-historians. Of course, on the upside such conversations may also help us to see how we can tweak our courses to be more accessible, responsive, or legible to students and faculty from those programs.

At a moment when the entire project of higher education is under strain, fighting among ourselves for scarce intellectual, student, and financial resources makes little sense. Doing the hard work of trying to understand and work with our colleagues builds stronger solidarity, institutions, and education.

Saul Halfon