During the last two decades the integrity agenda has largely been driven by a number of scandals (such as the Penkowa scandal in Denmark and the Stapel scandal in The Netherlands), where individual researchers committed clear violations of basic principles of research conduct. Although these scandals took a lot of focus, there were in the same period – at least in Denmark – a constant trickle of smaller scandals. These scandals were not caused by individual researchers’ breach of fundamental norms. Rather, they were caused by structural changes in the way universities collaborate with and receive funding from external partners.

In a local Danish context, the first of these scandals played out in 1999. The scandal revolved around a study that was carried out by researchers from Aarhus University and cofounded by the chewing gum manufacturer Dandy. Dandy had for years advertised one of its products as good for dental health because it contained the particular additive carbamide. The study from Aarhus University sought to investigate whether this was actually the case. As the results came in, it turned out that carbamide has no effect whatsoever on dental health. When the researchers wanted to publish the results, Dandy intervened and wanted to postpone the publication until further research had been conducted as there had been a minor deviation from protocol during the investigation. At first, university management sided with Dandy and suppressed the results. Then the press got hold of the case and started reported on it, and, faced with heavy pressure from public opinion, university management reversed and the results were published.

The episode did nothing good to any of the players involved. It did nothing good to Dandy, to university management, to the public trust in science, and it most certainly did nothing good to the scientists, who for a while were under a lot of unnecessary pressure. Where should their loyalty lie? With the university management? With the interests of the general public (who after all payed most of the researches’ pay checks through their taxes)? With the contract they had signed (that after all did give Dandy the right to suppress publication)? Or with their own careers (that depended on a steady stream of publications)?

The Dandy case was only a warning of what was to come. In the following years the still closer collaboration and closer financial ties between the university sector and other parts of society resulted in a large number of similar cases, where researchers suddenly had to navigate a complex nexus of loyalty conflict and integrity issues.

The latest installment of such cases played out in 2019, and added a new and interesting twist to the usual plot. In this case, researchers from Aarhus University received funding from an interest group representing Danish agriculture (SEGES). Due to the climate crisis the idea of taxing meat consumption was growing still more popular in public debates, and SEGES commissioned the researchers from Aarhus University to generate knowledge showing how beef could be a part of a sustainable diet. After consulting with SEGES the researchers chose to do this in part by compare the climate impact of beef with a number of other popular products, such as coffee and chocolate, and to publish the results in a (non-peer reviewed) report. When the report was made, SEGES however interfered and wrote part of the introduction without being credited as co-authors. SEGES also chose the title of the report such that it would be found in typical google searches on climate and beef, and they chose the frontpage picture of the report. The report itself had some strange methodological choices – e.g. mainly considered meat from milk producing cows while cattle bread purely for consumption were largely left out– but let’s disregard that for a moment and ask if the collaboration between SEGES and the university researchers was ok if the report had been scientifically sound.

This has some resemblance to the ‘fight science with science’-strategy that was developed and used by the tobacco industry in the 50s and 60s. Here, the basic idea was: if science says something you don’t like, you can fight it by funding research that says the opposite or adds to the confusion and general mistrust in science (which works just as well).

Although we do not know the motives of SEGES, it looks as if they were following a version of the old tobacco strategy. But where does that leave the university researchers? Had they stopped doing science and were instead doing PR for a powerful interest group, or had they simply found funding to add much needed nuances to the public debate on meat consumption?

It is not our goal here to answer this question here. Rather, we simply want to point out that there is a question to be asked. In this and similar cases university researchers are in a real and difficult dilemma. How much can you allow an external sponsor to dictate your methods and to decide which political agendas your research should be attached to? And of course, there is the question of money as your own career – and the careers of your colleagues’ – might depend on funding from the sponsor. So once again we are in a situation with many and difficult loyalty conflicts.

In the SEGES case the head of department resigned his post, but in this kind of cases individuals are generally not punished in the same way Penkowas and Stapels are. And with good reason. The kind of cases we have been looking at here are generally not caused by individuals breaking clear rules. Rather, they are induced by structural problems caused by the transition the university sector made from traditional academic science, where the university sector was largely isolate from the rest of society, to post-academic science, were the university is highly integrated and collaborates with other sectors. The solution to the problem is not to cut off university sector from the rest of society once again, as that would run the risk of rendering university research irrelevant.

Rather, we must face up to the challenges collaboration with actors outside the university poses. This in part involves the creation of clear structures such that individual researchers are not caught in unnecessary conflicts, but individual researcher must also be better prepared to anticipate and navigate the complex loyalty conflicts that stem from collaborations with partners from other sectors of society. This in turn poses challenges to us as RCR teachers. Apart from covering traditional issues such as data management and authorship issues, we should also be able to offer realistic teaching that addresses the new and complex loyalty conflicts university researchers face. In short, we should offer good answers to the question: How can you collaborate with partners outside the university while still preserving the integrity of science?