Migration policy must sustain the ecosystem of talent that powers UK science and innovation, says Sarah Main.
Raise your hand if you consider yourself the brightest and the best. I put this to a room of industrial and academic leaders at a computing conference a few months ago, and not one hand went up.
I don’t blame them. I don’t think I would raise my hand to such a claim, especially if I were surrounded by my peers. Such modesty is typical of research leaders, but it will not serve the country well.
For 12 months, prime minister Theresa May has repeatedly stated that she wants the UK to be open to the brightest and the best after Brexit. What this phrase means on the front bench is not what it means at the lab bench.
To the computing conference I attended, it might mean a Fields medallist or one of the country’s top five mathematicians. To the prime minister and her team, it might mean someone with a good degree and a well-paid job.
This disconnect of language and meaning is important, because it embodies the defining challenge of Brexit for science: how can the UK ensure it has the people it needs after leaving the European Union?
This challenge is top of the list for the scientific organisations I speak to on a daily basis, from global R&D corporates to small companies, research funders, learned societies, universities and medical charities. They all know that access to people is critical for their future success. It trumps even the money.
In parts of government they know it too. Speaking with an official on recent research spending commitments, I observed that the money would not work without the people. His reply was: “Everyone in this building knows it.”
But government, of course, extends beyond one building. The draft Home Office migration plan, leaked to the press in September, made a clear reference to a two-tier system for high and low-skilled workers, classified according to salaries and qualifications. The problem for science and engineering is that salary is simply not a proxy for skill.
Science and innovation require the whole ecosystem of talent. What a strange system it would be if professors and spinout company executives were left without animal-husbandry technicians, lab managers, high-throughput screeners, data analysts, instrument makers, field workers, PhD students and postdocs. The UK cannot maintain one of the world’s highest performing science bases with the top tier alone—it needs everyone.
Here the nation must face an uncomfortable truth: legions of highly skilled people who contribute to the UK’s science and engineering success are poorly paid and may not have qualifications that certify their experience and skill. The trade union Prospect is undertaking a survey that is expected to show that many thousands of skilled scientists in the UK are paid less than £30,000 a year.
The chairman of the government’s Migration Advisory Committee, the economist Alan Manning, is known to rebuff appeals of this nature. If these people are so useful, he asks, why not pay them more? Why not indeed.
Officials are already busy designing a migration system that seeks to translate and implement May’s call for the brightest and the best. They know that their system needs to meet the prime minister’s objectives, including that the UK remains a global leader in science and innovation, and a magnet for scientific and entrepreneurial talent.
These officials have to understand that for the UK to be a science and innovation leader, it must be attractive to all participants in science and engineering. Researchers and their allies must ensure the government understands that the brightest and the best encompasses an entire ecosystem of talent in the science base, without which it will not function.
I appeal to you, then, to put modesty aside and wear your “brightest and best” badge with pride. As a community, those in science, engineering and technology have to stand up and lay claim to this phrase, be they specialist technician, early-career researcher, tech entrepreneur or Regius professor. Doing so will help shape the government’s interpretation of its meaning, so that it truly encompasses everyone that science needs.
For its part, the government must recognise that its language is heard across the world. Intentionally or not, its messages may be as off-putting to an international research audience as it was to those at the computing conference I attended.
If researchers can bridge this language gap with government, it might create a common understanding of the migration needs of a country that seeks to remain a global leader in science and innovation.
Sarah Main is director of the Campaign for Science and Engineering.
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This article also appeared in Research Fortnight