If there ought to be a law, it should mandate that real government officials use real science to guide their decisions.
Clearly, Colorado state lawmakers see the wisdom in that, and maybe even the hard science, behind such a philosophy.
The Denver Museum of Nature and Science will embed four scientific specialists within the Colorado General Assembly’s nonpartisan staff during the next legislative session to help guide lawmakers toward collecting the best data possible to base decisions on.
The move, reported this week by Colorado Public Radio reporter Bente Birkland, should be applauded, loudly, and replicated, widely.
These fellows are not lobbyists. They are not activists. They are trained researchers who understand how the Scientific Method works. It’s a process still mystifying, and sometimes openly dismissed, by lawmakers who hold sweeping power over public health, natural resources, energy, technology and human well-being.
In an era when conspiracy theories masquerade as policy foundations and elected officials increasingly default to ideology over evidence, Colorado’s new science fellows program is more than a welcome reform. It’s a lifeline.
That’s not hyperbole. Across Colorado, local governments have struggled when elected officials override or ignore vetted research. Aurora’s City Council, for example, has repeatedly sidestepped the expertise of its own public safety staff to push controversial narratives on crime and immigration. Instead of grounding decisions in data, some officials have relied on talk-show sloganeering or online rumor pipelines. That’s not leadership. That’s malpractice.
While the state legislature has so far pushed away from pseudoscience traps, such as so-called gay conversion therapy, such dangerous mythologies will certainly continue to return in the form of state House or Senate bills.
Next year, Colorado’s Legislature will wisely choose a different path.
The four new fellows are experts in energy, climate, transportation, artificial intelligence, natural resources, and public and mental health. They will be tasked with doing something revolutionary in today’s political climate: helping lawmakers understand reality.
Max O’Connor, an advanced materials chemist with a Ph.D. from a joint NREL–CU Boulder program, will work on energy and climate policy. O’Connor puts it plainly for CPR: “Everything’s chemistry.”
She’s right. From how buildings retain heat to whether batteries safely store power, these questions aren’t ideological. They’re scientific.
The same is true of the other fellows, whose specialties reflect some of the most pressing issues facing communities across the state. Human services. Population health. Water and natural resources. Emerging technologies that evolve faster than legislation ever could. These are areas where guesswork and political allegiance should have no seat at the table. Yet for years, that’s all many lawmakers have had to rely on.
The Institute for Science and Policy deserves credit for recognizing this gap and for spending years building a program that mirrors successful models in places as different as California and Idaho.
It also deserves credit for refusing to treat science as a partisan instrument. Executive Director Kristan Uhlenbrock said that the goal is simple: Provide expertise that’s tied to issues, not ideology.
Some skeptics argue that science itself has been politicized and that true objectivity is hard to find, even among researchers. Republican Senate Minority Leader Cleave Simpson, a mining engineer, acknowledges that hesitation among some colleagues. But to his credit, Simpson has supported the program from the start and is working to bring reluctant lawmakers on board. His message is one every elected official should heed. Judge this program by its work, not by unfounded fears.
There is good reason to be optimistic. The fellowship drew 120 applicants for just four posts. It’s a sign that Colorado’s scientific community is eager not only to contribute but also to demystify the policymaking process.
Fellow Samantha Lattof says she wants lawmakers to know exactly where to turn for vetted information and wants scientists to see policymaking not as a “black box,” but as a system they can enter and improve.
That is exactly the kind of bridge-building state and local governments desperately need.
Too often, policymakers hear from industry lobbyists long before they ever hear from researchers or staffers who diligently, and aptly, look for vetted answers.
On the council dais and House and Senate wells, however, the loudest voices often drown out the most knowledgeable ones. And too often, communities pay the price when laws are based on political whims rather than hard evidence.
Colorado’s new science fellows program does not eliminate those pressures, but it injects something the government has needed, structure and rigor.
If this program succeeds, local governments from Aurora to Grand Junction should take note. School boards debating curriculum standards, county commissions weighing water policy, and city councils making decisions about policing or zoning all stand to benefit from neutral, scientific guidance, accepting it and acting on it.
Democracy is messy. It always has been. But messy does not need to mean uninformed. The scientific method, which means to observe, to test, to analyze, and to revise, is not just for labs and graduate students. It is a model for thoughtful governance.
Colorado lawmakers have taken an important step by recognizing this. The rest of the state should follow.
