Our Man at the Smithsonian

Overseeing the scientific enterprises of the Smithsonian may not be that different from teaching, but most universities don’t have a board of regents that includes the chief justice of the Supreme Court, the vice president of the United States, and nine ordinary citizens who, David Evans said, aren’t ordinary.

Our Man at the Smithsonian

By Jackleen de La Harpe

The Hope Diamond, the largest deep blue diamond in the world; a 13-foot tall African elephant; the O. Orkin Insect Zoo—these are some of the 124 million specimens and artifacts housed at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, a part of the famed Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., that attracts more than six million visitors annually.

It is mandated by Congress that these collections be exhibited to the public, and it is how most people think of the Smithsonian, as a group of buildings that house American artistic and scientific treasures.

Less visible is another Smithsonian that funds scientists and extensive research programs, including the advanced X-ray satellite developed and operated by the Astrophysical Observatory in Cambridge, Mass., and the largest tropical rainforest research project at the Tropical Research Institute in Panama.

The Smithsonian is truly a public institution—approximately 70 percent of the museum’s $631 million budget is provided through an annual appropriation from Congress. It was Congress that determined what James Smithson meant in 1846 when he bequeathed more than $500,000 to be used for “the increase and diffusion of knowledge among men.”

But in the last few years, it was not the Smithsonian’s intellectual reputation that made national headlines, but rather its internal politics and divisions.

The perception, as described by The Washington Post, was that this venerable institution was being sold to the highest bidder. A theatre in the Air and Space Museum was renamed for a corporate donor, Lockheed Martin. Curators at the American History Museum objected to the influence exerted by a donor who had pledged $38 million (she withdrew her pledge). Both Congress and Smithsonian staff protested plans to close the National Zoo’s Conservation and Research Center in Virginia.

“Unplanned decline and unmanaged decline,” is David Evans’ description of what the Smithsonian has faced. Evans was hired as the Smithsonian’s undersecretary for science in September 2002 for both his ability to lead large-scale research organizations and for his passion for communicating science to the public.

Evans oversees the Natural History Museum, the National Zoo, the Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory, the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center, and the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute. Evans, who earned a Doctorate in Physical Oceanography from URI’s Graduate School of Oceanography, said that the job suits him. It appears to require the firm hand of a diplomat and a master of communication, and Evans seems to be both.

Graciously ushering a visitor into his office, he talks about the challenges of the job. Dressed in a blue shirt and a subdued tie, his thick steel gray hair frames an interested and attentive face. His office in the Smithsonian Castle is not large, but the view overlooking the Mall is incredible. The floor to ceiling window looks directly at the National Museum of Natural History. Four portraits by George Catlin hang on the wall. Evans’ rolltop desk is an antique used by Samuel Langley, the third secretary of the Smithsonian. When Evans came to the job, he didn’t look at an office furniture catalog; instead, he had a conversation with the museum’s curator of furniture and ended up with an office that looks, oddly enough, like a museum.

“Working as an administrator,” he said, “is not all that different from teaching, especially in communicating results and goals to people. You need to step back from the details.”

Evans came to URI as a doctoral student in oceanography. Just as he was finishing in 1975, his major professor and most of the physical oceanography staff departed, leaving Evans behind to continue to administer the research projects. “In a funny way, the institution changed around me,” he said. He stayed on the faculty at GSO until 1986 when he left to join the Office of Naval Research (ONR).

“It was the heyday for ONR,” he said. Nearly half of the country’s academic physical oceanography research was funded by ONR. “The physical oceanography program was very successful. It was the single biggest research program at ONR for four or five years.” In 1993, Evans left ONR to become a senior scientist and deputy assistant administrator for ocean services at NOAA.

At the Smithsonian, one of Evans’ jobs is to address shrinking budgets and shrinking staff. Federal budgets have not kept pace with the Smithsonian’s needs over the last 10 to 15 years, and September 11 brought about a big decline in revenues from the museum shops. Evans began by working on fellowships, creating funding opportunities that would support fellows and scholars conducting research at the Smithsonian and that would bring new talent into the research programs. These fellowships are now a line in the President’s budget.

Next, Evans made it clear that Smithsonian researchers could apply for funding from the National Science Foundation. Because Smithsonian researchers were funded by appropriations in the federal budget, they had been deemed ineligible to compete for NSF money. “Having Smithsonian scientists apply to NSF will be very, very healthy,” he said. “This is very important in terms of competition and recognition of science.”

Evans also produces an internal weekly newsletter that describes the research at Smithsonian. It is well circulated, making the rounds inside the Smithsonian and “outside the Castle” to staffers on the Hill, board members, donors, and members of Congress.

What is most important about his work, he said, is to “communicate the value of research. It’s become very clear to me that we live in what is essentially a scientifically illiterate world. ”

“At a time when we depend on science and technology in every aspect of our lives, and when big public issues like stem cell research, genetically modified organisms, climate change, and cloning depend on science, this is particularly frightening.

“Political decisions must be informed by a public that knows how science works. I believe that Smithsonian is perfectly positioned to provide that information.”

Jackleen de La Harpe is the executive director of the Metcalf Institute for Marine and Environmental Reporting at URI’s Graduate School of Oceanography.

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