Society’s Wicked Problems Require Collaboration Not Silos

Recently, I have given an invited lecture around the nation entitled, “Cloudy with a chance of science.” Using the lens of weather and climate, I discuss how public perceptions (and misperceptions) about science evolve. Near the beginning of the lecture, the words “wicked problems” appear. Those words frame many of the challenges that we face today: climate change, pandemics, geopolitical conflict, and so forth. By definition, wicked problems are defined by layers of complexity and unclear pathways to solutions. Herein, I argue that collaboration across many disciplines is required to address society’s wicked problems.

First, let’s formally define wicked problems. Stonybrook University’s website states, “In 1973, design theorists Horst Rittel and Melvin Webber introduced the term "wicked problem" in order to draw attention to the complexities and challenges of addressing planning and social policy problems.” Ramanan Jagannathan writes, “The problems that scientist and engineers are usually focused on are known as Tame Problems.... For each, the objective is very clear and it is also clear whether the problem is solved or not.” Unlike wicked problems, “tame problems” are characterized by a finite solution space, elements of familiarity with approach, and closure. For example, the construction of a new tunnel through a mountain is a tame problem. The site choice, design, and structure may vary, but at the end, you get a tunnel.

Wicked problems are more diffuse, and there is less clarity on what “solved” actually means. As an atmospheric scientist, I was trained to understand the physics, thermodynamics, and dynamics of the fluid moving above us. Governing equations and laws of physics are relevant. However, the things that keep me up at night are not tame. They are wicked:

• Is climate change in the extreme weather events of the day?
• What are the social, economic, and policy implications and levers to reverse or slow climate change?
• Why are is there such a difference in who is disproportionately vulnerable to environmental or climate stressors?
• How do you plan, implement policy, or respond to compounding or cascading events such as an active hurricane season at the peak of coronavirus cases?

My degrees in physical meteorology did not equip me to tackle such questions. During the peak of the pandemic, I collaborated with two University of Georgia colleagues, Brian Bledsoe and Don Nelson, on an article urging humility over hubris in addressing climate risks. We need help. Others agree. As an example, the Stonybrook University’s website went on to say, “As scholars who work in the environmental humanities our goal is understanding the problems of climate change while also critiquing the language and methods we use to articulate those problems.”

I spent twelve years at a science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) organization. You may have heard of it. As a scientist at NASA, my role was to conduct scientific research and advance new missions to study the third planet from the sun. During my tenure as Deputy Project Scientist for the Global Precipitation Measurement mission, challenges related to putting two rainfall radars on a satellite could be “engineered.” However, the satellite is now in orbit and revealing patterns and trends with hurricanes or flooding that go beyond STEM solutions.

Social and behavioral scholars are familiar with concepts of poverty, environmental justice, vulnerability, economic disparities, food or water insecurity, culture, and race. Each of these topics is directly relevant to weather and climate challenges today. Research has repeatedly shown that marginalized, disenfranchised, or frontline communities are disproportionately exposed to urban heat, economic or infrastructure losses after an extreme event, negative health outcomes, and slower recovery.

My early research interests examined precipitating cloud systems formed due to interacting sea breeze fronts and thunderstorm outflow boundaries. In that research, the magnitude of convergence was an important and quantifiable entity related to precipitation. Years later, the convergence of weather, culture, economics, policy, communication, and human outcomes is a far more challenging problem. My research collaboration teams are now comprised of planners, engineers, health experts, geographers, and the business community.

Sarah Sutton’s new book, The Arts and Humanities on Environmental and Climate Change, suggests that arts and humanities, for example, can be a powerful tool for engaging broader audiences in conversation, instruction, policy action, archiving, and perception. By the way, did you know Henry David Thoreau’s Walden is a valued resource on climate connections to plants? Artificial intelligence will be at the forefront of climate prediction and solution advances. However, the National Endowment for the Arts website cautions, “Questions about the ethical, legal, and societal implications of AI are fundamentally rooted in the humanities, which include ethics, law, history, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, media studies, and cultural studies.”

I matriculate within the academic ivory tower, but my experiences are broader. I tried to avoid academic jargon because this was meant for an audience who probably is not cracking open journals or federal reports with morning coffee. I am aware of how the scholarly community differentiates terms like disciplinary (one discipline) multidisciplinary (multiple disciplines, one theme), interdisciplinary (crosses disciplines and integrates), and convergence (crosses in multiple ways, one goal, integrating, new paradigms). The research office website at North Carolina State University has a good discussion of the definitions, but if you need an easy way to think about it consider this:

• saxophone (disciplinary)
• the woodwind section (multidisciplinary)
• the orchestra (interdisciplinary)
• the orchestra playing with a new hip hop artist (convergence).

Going forward, I encourage universities, corporations, and other institutions to continue to rethink how to attack the wicked problems of the day. Potential solutions are hiding at the seams, boundaries, and crevices of our comfort zones. In some cases, they are yet to be revealed but are lurking.

A few years ago, I wrote about the women featured in the movie Hidden Figures. Simply because of race and gender, NASA realized that it was leaving critical ideas off the table. By broadening the input or idea pool, they tackled the complexities of getting to space. Today, we need all of the ideas on the table. The challenges that we face will require complex teams constituted at the “headwaters” not downstream. In that raft, we need the paintings, the spoken words, labs, books, theories, ethics, history, songs, museums and critical interpetations.