Can new technology do more harm than good? Has research become too risky? Is science dangerous? These are just some of the questions to be answered in a forthcoming RDS lecture, flagged in this newspaper's science page last Monday.
Well, I think I can answer some of these questions now. Yes of course science is dangerous - certainly anywhere near teenage boys. I only have to recall my own brief period as a science student, when the projects that dominated contemporary discourse included the effects of sulphuric acid on teachers' cars and the exploding point of frogs when inflated.
So yes, in the wrong hands (also defined as "Iraq"), science can be a very dangerous thing. On the other hand, science is constantly coming up with ways of improving people's lives. For instance, on the same page on Monday there was the heartening news that mowing your lawn is bad for the environment.
This is not just because of lawnmower fumes. No. According to a study carried out jointly by Monash University and the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation, cut grass emits high levels of volatile hydrocarbons, including methanol, ethanol, euthymol, propanone and butanone.
Yes, you spotted it; one of those is a brand of toothpaste and is not found in grass - just checking you were awake at the back of the class. Anyway, according to the researchers, cut grass releases "100 times more" of these substances (except euthymol) than uncut grass, and the effect "can add significantly to photochemical smog".
Now I know there is a credibility issue with this study: namely, Monash sounds more like a garden fertiliser product than a university. Nevertheless, the findings will be welcomed by the many people who, like me, have always had a deep-seated distaste for excessive lawn-care, without knowing why.
For centuries, urban man has been feeling guilty about not mowing the lawn, mistaking this environmentally sound instinct for other things, like a reluctance to get off the couch. Now, thanks to science, he can finally relax and concentrate on watching football on television, an activity which has no known effect on photochemical smog.
The scientific breakthrough is particularly timely with the World Cup Finals looming. Indeed, the only cloud on urban man's horizon at the moment is that it may take several more centuries for science to come up with a good reason for his reluctance to paint the spare room.
The other big science story of the week was the one about Viagra, the wonder drug which is helping thousands of American males to do what should come naturally (and certainly does to their president). As with many of the great scientific breakthroughs, the Viagra one was accidental: they were using the drug to improve blood flow to people's hearts, until they found that it was improving it in a different direction altogether.
Of course there were set-backs along the way: apparently, some Englishmen tested with the drug developed stiff upper lips. But now the product is on the US market and breaking all records. (One of the less reported aspects of this story is the derivation of the drug's name, which it turns out is a suggestive combination of "vigour" and "Niagara". Now vigour is one thing, but I can't believe that the idea of one of the world's biggest waterfalls is an aid to lovemaking. Not after a few beers anyway.)
Inevitably, some people in the US are already worried that men who are not impotent will misuse the drug: taking it to give them an added "edge", as an article in the latest issue of Time magazine puts it. And this is, of course, the downside of science: almost everything that can be used to help people can be misused by others.
But my favourite science story of the week was also on last Monday's page: the one which told us that a group of Atlantic Ocean toadfish "are enjoying the trip of a lifetime" on board the space shuttle Columbia.
Apart from being the ugliest fish in the sea, to judge by the accompanying photograph, toadfish apparently have an inner ear which is very similar to humans. And on the Columbia, they've been surgically attached to sensors which will measure the impulses passing "from their balance system to their brain".
Then at some point the scientists on board will inflate the toadfish by means of a straw inserted in - wait a minute, there's nothing about that in the story. What it actually says is that researchers will record changes in the impulses as the fish adjust to microgravity, "information which could help in developing methods to counteract space-sickness". All very laudable.
But whatever your feelings about science, there's certainly a lot of it about these days. In this newspaper alone, coverage of the subject has expanded alarmingly. A while ago, only big science stories would make the news pages; for instance, if a meteorite the size of Belgium was on course to hit earth. Or if the meteorite was on course to hit Belgium, that would be what we call a "colour" story.
Then there was a weekly column and now this has expanded into a weekly page. Observers differ on where it is all leading. One group believes that at some point in the future, science coverage will suddenly contract again (this is the "big crunch" theory), resulting in a giant "black hole" or, even worse, increased golf coverage.
Others think the science element of the paper will go on expanding for ever. I know, it's scary just thinking about it.
