Let’s abolish ethics committees

These days, nearly all researchers need an ethics committee’s approval to do their work, particularly if they use human or animal data. But mention the “e-word” and watch their reaction: the process of getting approval is quite awful.

Is the pain worth the gain?

Ethics committees are a bit like juries. They are there to survey the evidence and make decisions about whether a proposed course of action – such as conducting a research project – fulfils certain moral and legal criteria. But while many jury members are dragged kicking and screaming to court, ethics committees often consist of happy volunteers. Why? How are they appointed? Have you ever seen an advertisement for members?

The jury system has recently come under scrutiny, not only for its expense and inefficiency but also for its record of poor judgments. But ethics committees are mushrooming – not only in universities but also in schools, hospitals and businesses. It has got to the point where university departments often have subcommittees to advise on the ethics of proposals before they are submitted.

There are three major problems with the way people use and think about ethics committees. The first relates to ethics itself. The assumption is that just as jury members do not need any detailed understanding of the law, so ethics committee members do not need any specific knowledge of ethics. But this analogy is wrong for a number of reasons.

First, while people may have different interpretations of the law, there is only one legal system in a particular jurisdiction. There are many competing ethical systems. For instance, I am interested in the fair allocation of scarce medical resources. A number of quite different but recognisably ethical positions exist. Examples include lotteries; first come, first served; sickest first; youngest first; save the most lives; and most positive prognosis first.

Furthermore, if juries need guidance on the law, the judge is there to provide it. Shouldn’t there be at least one person on an ethics committee (the chair) who is able to expand on ethical theory? Better, shouldn’t committees decide which ethical code is to be applied ahead of time, publicise it to applicants and apply it consistently?

But that brings us a second problem with ethics committees: the idea that groups make wiser decisions than individuals. In fact, a wealth of evidence suggests otherwise. The phenomenon of groupthink sees highly cohesive groups exert pressure on members to make uniform decisions. Those members may suspend their own critical thinking and ignore information that challenges the group’s perspective. The result is that the group’s decisions may be completely uninformed, irrational or even immoral.

The third problem with ethics committees relates to the real reason we are seeing them proliferate: litigiousness. All it takes is for one volunteer (who may even have been paid) to complain about their very subjective reaction to what they were asked to do – watch a movie, answer a question, even take a placebo – and we get the shrill cry from the web and the “no-win-no-fee” lawyers. Many organisations will tell of the emotional and financial cost of defending their case, regardless of the outcome.

But whether ethics committees really help to minimise the risk of litigation is open to question – unless it is their explicit remit and there is a lawyer on board. A lawyer may also increase conservatism, but need not; some publications, for example, are editorially emboldened by the help of a media lawyer to pilot them through the minefields.

Without legal advice, committees often default to rejection. Reasons for not doing something can readily be found, and saying no decreases the committee’s chances of being blamed for any legal challenges or moral pushback.

Committees’ risk-aversion is only enhanced by the fact that many ethics members are currently very unproductive. Indeed, it has been suggested that some people volunteer in order to frustrate their successful colleagues: not exactly an ethical motive. For this reason, a colleague suggests that all people on university research ethics committee must be active and successful researchers themselves.

It is not a bad idea. Either way, it is clear that if we must have ethics committees, we need to vet their members carefully. And it should be impressed on each one exactly what they are there for – and what they are not.

In addition, committees’ size must be kept relatively small, and members should serve for a set period that does not automatically renew. To further guard against groupthink, they should be asked to make private judgements on proposals, with a written rationale, before each meeting. And there should be an effective appeals procedure. The committee should be given feedback on its decisions by independent ethics experts.

But, better still, why not get those experts in from the beginning? Why not just decide on an ethical system, hire a good ethicist and lawyer and charge researchers pro rata for their time, on the promise of feedback within 30 working days?

If there were a functional committee for institutional efficiency, or for researcher mental health, it is clear which solution it would recommend.

Adrian Furnham is a professor at the Norwegian Business School.