Nota 2 - Criterios Contables Aplicados
2.1 Bases de preparación de los Estados Financieros
In her work on the rhetorical dynamics of discourse on germs and security, Keränen understands talk about bioterror risk to be an instance of what Lyne has called bio-rhetoric and defines the critical response to such discourse as biocriticism: “a sustained and rigorous analysis of the artifacts, texts, discursive formations, visual representations, and material practices positioned at the nexus of disease and culture.”41 In her view, this thread is pre-existent but underdeveloped in the field of rhetorical studies. Since I understand this investigation as part of this thread, it would help both to describe briefly from where this nascent thread originates and how this investigation extends it.
39
Burke, The Philosophy of Literary Form, 191-233.
40 Ibid.
41 Lisa Keränen, “Review Essay: Addressing the Epidemic of Epidemics: Germs, Security, and a Call for
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While the whole of communication studies can be properly understood as being concerned with discourse, the portions of that field concerned with discourse about science can be bifurcated in the same way that I have already bifurcated investigations into bioterror. On the one hand, there are investigations which use pre-existent categories. On the other, there are those which purport to investigate the construction of a given category. In communication studies, the former usually falls under the related rubrics of health, science, and risk communication. Indeed, much of the current communication scholarship on bioterrorism has been generated by researchers in these growing fields. One such exemplary case related to the 2001 anthrax mailings are the works which, collectively, made up the Journal of Heath
Communication’s 2003 special supplement devoted to the subject.42 In that volume, researchers grapple with the terrible difficulty that emerges when journalists and public health officials work to circulate information within a crisis. In the wake of the anthrax mailings, it became clear that the relationship between the supply of and demand for clear information about what was known by scientific investigators were not well matched. When journalists filtered and explained the information provided by health officials, what those officials hoped to communicate was often left out and what journalists hoped to learn from them was rarely given. In short, the work practices of the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) came occasionally into conflict with the work practices of journalists. After the immediate public health crisis ended, researchers wanted to know how well relevant scientific messages travelled from the CDC to the public. Which details did the CDC include in press releases? Which details were highlighted by journalists? Which messages and media did citizens receive and trust? In what ways did the system fail? Generally researchers discovered that while CDC experts gave accurate information to journalists, the CDC
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was not structurally prepared to deliver messages that similarly emphasized the kind of information that would have helped the public at the volume that situation seemed to demand.43 Further, when journalists reported information passed on by the CDC, there were serious discrepancies between what the CDC and the journalists considered to be newsworthy detail. Since managing public health crises depends on the form and content of messages to the public, these kinds of discrepancies virtually ensure that any crisis communication will fail. Even worse, in this case, there seems not to have been a plan at all. For example in one study sample half of the CDC releases spelled out who had been exposed to the anthrax, less than 10% of journalistic accounts did so.44 Similar discrepancies were found with respect to the mention of relevant exposure and prevention variables. Interestingly enough, another study found that these problems do not seem to have damaged how trustworthy public health sources seem to citizens.45 These studies are exemplars of the socio-scientific approach to problem solving and they integrate approaches from social psychology and anthropology in order to, generally, explain the effect of messages on beliefs.46
These perspectives are not integrated with, but can be understood as operating side-by- side with sociologists and anthropologists (especially medical anthropologists) who are interested in the power relationships between the various experts who disseminate information as
43 Susan J. Robinson, and Wendy C. Newstetter, “Uncertain Science and Certain Deadlines: CDC Responses to
the Media During the Anthrax Attacks of 2001,” Journal of Health Communication 8, no. S1 (2003): 17-34.
44
Felicia Mebane, Sarah Temin, and Claudia F. Parvanta, “Communicating Anthrax in 2001: A Comparison of CDC Information and Print Media Accounts,” Journal of Health Communication 8, no. S1 (2003): 50-82.
45 William E. Pollard, “Public Perceptions of Information Sources Concerning Bioterrorism Before and After
Anthrax Attacks: An Analysis of National Survey Data,” Journal of Health Communication 8, no. S1 (2003): 93- 103.
46 These articles are helpful examples with respect to the specific issue in this investigation, but a more thorough
survey of the field can be found in Matthew W. Seeger, Timothy L. Sellnow, and Robert R. Ulmer, Crisis
Communication and the Public Health (New York: Hampton, 2008), and William James Willis and Albert Adelowo
Okunade, Reporting on Risks: The Practice and Ethics of Health and Safety Communication (New York: Praeger, 1997). The former provides a summary of some best practice recommendations in public health communication based on empirical research whereas the latter considers the relevant practical and ethical problems faced by journalists who report on complex, risk issues.
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well as the relationship between expert and lay groups. For example, Charles Briggs, a medical anthropologist, has documented the ways in which journalists and scientists often have clashing views about their own relationships with one another.47 His work suggests journalists may often identify themselves as part of the public health apparatus even as the public health officials see journalists as some combination of both an obstacle and a tool. More importantly, Briggs shows how medical discourse is capable of creating categories of ‘bad’ citizens who represent public health problems. Thus, scientific and medical accounts do work to redefine populations and can confirm/disconfirm people’s expertise about themselves and their world. Brian Wynne, a Sociologist, has shown the ways in which scientists demote and even ignore the expertise of those who are outside of their own institutional boundaries.48 As representers of the world, scientists face serious limits in their ability to successfully represent their expertise and convince the non-expert.49 For those working near the intersection of medical anthropology and the sociology of scientific knowledge, scientific representations of the world are political because they authorize a definition of a state of affairs which are often meant to solve problems, but may not only demote the knowledge and experience of the non-scientist and but may even do damage to the bodies of the non-scientist.50
47 Charles L. Briggs, “Why Nation‐States and Journalists Can't Teach People to Be Healthy: Power and
Pragmatic Miscalculation in Public Discourses on Health,” Medical Anthropology Quarterly 17, no. 3 (2003): 287- 321.
48 Brian Wynne, “Misunderstood Misunderstanding: Social Identities and Public Uptake of Science,” Public Understanding of Science 1, no. 3 (1992): 281-304. For similar work about the public understanding of science, see
Wynne alongside others in Alan Irwin and Brian Wynne, eds. Misunderstanding Science?: The Public
Reconstruction of Science and Technology (Cambridge UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
49 For a profound example of this in relation to communicating about radiation, see Olga Kuchinskaya,
“Articulating the Signs of Danger: Lay Experiences of Post-Chernobyl Radiation Risks and Effects,” Public
Understanding of Science 20, no. 3 (2011): 405-421. 50
For this latter case, see especially Susan M. Reverby, “‘Normal Exposure’ and Inoculation Syphilis: A PHS ‘Tuskegee’ Doctor in Guatemala, 1946-1948,” Journal of Policy History 23, no. 1 (2011): 6-28, and Susan M. Reverby, “Ethical Failures and History Lessons: the US Public Health Service Research Studies in Tuskegee and Guatemala,” Public Health Review 34 (2012): 1-18.
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This attention to scientific representations in both discourse and images is the space of intersection for these socio-scientific approaches and rhetorical studies. The interrelated fields of the Rhetoric of Science, Health, and Medicine share both the attention to messages found in Science Communication and the critical attitude found in Anthropological and Sociological studies of related phenomena. Under a rubric like the Rhetoric of Science, rhetoric is understood to be not only the argumentative practice peculiar to science, but also the way in which scientific arguments constitute the scientific disciplines while also configuring states of affairs in the world.51 In short, the rhetorical critic will be at least interested in the ways in which a scientist makes arguments, allies and associates herself with other scientists through discourse, and configures the world (and the people in it) by way of that discourse. Science, like other domains of inquiry, does not always understand itself to be presenting arguments at all – that is, the scientist may say that scientific arguments are nothing other than beliefs generated from sufficient evidence about the world. Yet, in scientific – especially medical – descriptions, the critic will still find uncertainty, metaphor,52 productive ambiguity,53 appeals to scientific expertise,54 and even appeals to the imaginative.55
That scientific and medical discourse contains persuasive elements is not a problem, but merely a matter of fact from this critical perspective. Problems do emerge, however, when
51
For a longer elaboration and history, see John Lyne, “Rhetorics of inquiry,” Quarterly Journal of Speech 71 (1985): 65-73.
52 Scott L. Montgomery, The Scientific Voice (New York: Guilford Press, 1996).
53 Leah Ceccarelli, Shaping Science with Rhetoric: The Cases of Dobzhansky, Schrodinger, and Wilson
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001).
54 John Lyne and Henry F. Howe, “The rhetoric of expertise: EO Wilson and sociobiology” Quarterly Journal of
Speech 76, no. 2 (1990): 134-151; John Lyne and Henry F. Howe, “‘Punctuated equilibria’: rhetorical dynamics of a
scientific controversy” Quarterly Journal of Speech 72, no. 2 (1986): 132-147.
55
Nathan Crick, “Conquering Our Imagination: Thought Experiments and Enthymemes in Scientific Argument,”
Philosophy and Rhetoric 37, no. 1 (2004): 21-41. There is good reason to think that these phenomena have a rich
history that traces back to the earliest recorded scientific arguments. See especially John Poulakos and Nathan Crick “There is Beauty Here, Too: Aristotle's Rhetoric for Science” Philosophy and Rhetoric 45, no. 3 (2013): 295-311.
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scientific experts do not consider, for instance, the ways in which their discourse shapes the world, invades discourse on other subjects, demotes the experience of others, and does conceptual and physical damage to others.56 A helpful, paradigmatic example of this critical perspective would be Judy Segal’s landmark Health and the Rhetoric of Medicine and the work it helped to inspire in Joan Leach and Deborah Dysart-Gale’s edited volume Rhetorical
Questions of Health and Medicine.57 In both volumes, the authors seek to interrogate the relationships that emerge in clinical settings, between medical practitioners and patients. That is, the relationships between medical experts and the bodies that they are charged with describing, diagnosing, and mending. Much is both physically and conceptually at stake in these settings, not the least of which is a struggle for control over the patient’s body. Thus, these authors and others constitute the response by rhetorical scholars to the call for biocriticism elaborated by Lyne and Keränen. The hallmark of such an approach, in contrast to the approach generally pursued by science and risk communication researchers, is the asking of what Leach and Dysart- Gale call “prior questions.”58 That is, inquiry in the ways in which terms and perspectives get built up prior to being deployed. These inquiries might help us understand what kinds of terms
56 John Lyne, “Contours of Intervention: How Rhetoric Matters to Biomedicine,” Journal of Medical Humanities
22:1 (2001): 3-13; Gordon R. Mitchell and Kelly Happe, “Defining the subject of consent in DNA research,”
Journal of Medical Humanities 22, no. 1 (2001): 41-53.
57 Judy Z. Segal, Health and the Rhetoric of Medicine (Carbondale: SIU Press, 2008); Joan Leach and Deborah
Dysart-Gale, Rhetorical Questions of Health and Medicine (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2011). See also Judy Z. Segal, “Interdisciplinarity and Bibliography in Rhetoric of Health and Medicine,” Technical Communications
Quarterly 14, no. 3 (2005): 311-318; Colleen Derkatch and Judy Z. Segal, “Realms of Rhetoric in Health and
Medicine,” University of Toronto Medical Journal 83 (2005); and Judy Z. Segal, “Public Discourse and Public Policy: Some Ways That Metaphor Constrains Health (Care),” Journal of Medical Humanities 18, no. 4 (1997). Finally, Lisa Keränen’s contribution to this thread of inquiry is best seen in Lisa Keränen, “‘’Cause Someday We All Die’: Rhetoric, Agency, and the Case of the “Patient” Preferences Worksheet,” Quarterly Journal of Speech 93:2 (2007): 179-210. Keränen and Segal are at the head of a call for more work in this vein. Their view of the field and its possibilities can be found in Blake Scott, Judy Z. Segal, and Lisa Keränen, “The Rhetorics of Health and Medicine: Inventional Possibilities for Scholarship and Engaged Practice,” Poroi 9, no. 1 (2013), accessed November 20, 2014, http://ir.uiowa.edu/poroi/vol9/iss1/17/.
58 Joan Leach and Deborah Dysart-Gale “Why Ask Rhetorical Questions?” in Rhetorical Questions of Health
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and messages we would want to send (and how we can send them) in the first place, completely separate from the matter of which messages have been effectively transmitted.
In this vein, I propose a rhetorical, biocritical investigation into “bioterror,” “bioterrorism,” and “bioterrorists.” Such an investigation could take many forms – Keränen has already proposed an examination of “changing visions of viral apocalypse in biodefense discourse.”59 What I propose is specifically an investigation of the relationship between uses of Cold War definitions of bioweapon defense research and post-Cold War uses of definitions of bioterrorism. To do this, I examine narrative accounts that implicitly or explicitly describe the origin of bioweapon threats. As I will demonstrate at length, the press made much of a prolonged political debate about the danger and/or necessity of US biodefense facilities, and in 1969 Nixon intervened to end that debate both politically and rhetorically. In doing so, Nixon immediately limited the possibilities for biothreat origins and in the much longer term dramatically altered the possibilities for human biothreats within the context of terrorism. Through a similar, definitive process, Török and his colleagues circumscribed the ways in which those categories can be recognized by those who might take on the skeptical attitude. That is, they quite accidentally make necessary and important those individuals who are most likely to embody the paranoid attitude: criminal psychologists and investigators. I do not assume that Nixon and Török meant to affect the way that we talk about terrorists, but their arguments show how consequential definitive discourse can be, especially when it leverages political or scientific expertise to redefine human beings and their practices.
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