This story, researched and written by Kathryn May, originally appeared on the front page of the Aug. 28, 1999 Saturday edition of the Ottawa Citizen. Photographs by Wayne Cuddington, The Ottawa Citizen.

The 250 public servants who just won't quit

Retired scientists are working at the jobs of their dreams -- they just don't get paid for it any more. Kathryn May reports.

Kathryn May
The Ottawa Citizen

Old scientists never retire -- their pay just disappears. Ed "Bug Doc" Becker has been studying insects for free almost as long as he worked as an entomologist at Agriculture Canada. He retired almost 20 years ago, "fed up with the administrative duties" and those "asinine memos" that "came down from somewhere higher in the heavens." He said goodbye to colleagues, disappeared from payroll and the next day was back at his microscope, a free man. Mr. Becker is among a growing corps of retired scientists, many pushing 80, who go to work and don't get paid. For them, science isn't a job. It is a passion, a calling, and retirement was the ticket to scientific freedom they spent careers yearning for. "Pay isn't an issue for them," said Jim McKenzie, acting director of Agriculture Canada's Eastern Cereal and Oilseed Research Centre. "They're not golfers or the kind of guys who can sit around and read the paper. They're driven and want to contribute. "These are guys who go on holidays where they know they can collect insects. The cost of them is minimal but the benefit to the country is incredible."

No one really knows how many retired scientists still come to work and, so far, unions have turned a blind eye as long as they're not taking jobs from young scientists.

For years, scientists have returned to work to finish research or pursue pet projects.

But massive cuts in the science budgets of federal departments have made these highly skilled, and often world-class experts, a critical tool in transferring knowledge between the generations.

"We see them as a way to benefit from their knowledge and skills, bringing them back into the labs to serve as mentors to the young scientists," said William Doubleday, director of general science at Fisheries and Oceans Officially, the seven largest science-based departments estimate there are about 250 so-called emeritus and honorary scientists, but concede many more could be buried in offices and laboratories across the country.

In fact, the numbers have increased so rapidly since downsizing wiped out the jobs of 5,000 scientific and technical workers that departments like Fisheries and Oceans and Natural Resources are revising their emeritus programs and bringing order to what was once a much more informal relationship. These volunteer scientists must sign annual contracts, commit to goals and make yearly reports on their results. In exchange, they get an office, access to laboratories and libraries and other basic tools of the trade.

"They are doing projects integral to the mandate here, not just feel-good, nice-to-do projects," said Robin Riddihough, senior science adviser at Natural Resources. "We may not be paying them a salary, but we are offering them support and use of our facilities."

And many predict the demand for these scientists will escalate over the next decade, when another 3,000 experts are expected to leave or retire. In fact, auditor-general Denis Desautels has warned that the science capacity within government has eroded so badly that it faces a huge challenge to lure young scientists from the same pool of talent that universities and industry recruit in.

At the Central Experimental Farm in Ottawa, 70 paid scientists at the Eastern Cereal and Oilseed Research Centre are quietly supported by 30 "honorary scientists" who gladly volunteer their expertise for the privilege of working in their fields.

"Look, I can't just lose interest in this stuff because I retired," said botanist Bill Cody, who works in the same office he retired from 12 years ago. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have this -- curl up and die, I guess."

Mr. Cody, one of Canada's leading experts on flowering plants, devotes his time to updating and maintaining Agriculture Canada's vast Vascular Plant Herbarium, which he once ran as curator. Since retiring, he has finished a massive 650-page book on the flora of the Yukon, runs the Canadian Field Naturalist publication and this summer paid his own way to help Yukon officials collect and identify plants throughout the North, expecting no more "than a thank-you note."

At 76, Ed Becker still has enough of that delicious Missouri drawl to convince you that Carmen, the tarantula crawling over his palm and up his wrist is the cutest critter you'll ever lay eyes on. "The kids at the schools love her," he says.

Mr. Becker figures Carmen is hankering for a feed of crickets, but he's "just too scotch" to fork over the $2 to buy her a dozen. Instead, he might try trapping the crickets whose chirping he tracked to the hollow of the street sign outside his office.

Mr. Becker's office is buried beneath stacks of yellowed academic journals, the walls draped in giant ink sketches of beetles, ants and flies. He flits excitedly trying to explain in minutes what's so fascinating about the world of beetles that has gripped him for nearly 80 years.

He peels back the tupperware lid of the container on his desk and thrusts it out like he's offering a muffin. It's Carmen's lunch. The grain-lined bottom is crawling with crusty-shelled beetles, wireworms and larvae that have picked clean the shrivelled apple core sitting in the middle. He picks out a beetle, flipping it on its back, tiny legs flailing in the air.

"There are 400 species of click beetles and 8,000 beetles (in the world), and I'd say we only know about half of them," said Mr. Becker. "That's the thing about insects. They are so different and there's so much we don't know."

As an honorary scientist, Mr. Becker helps train volunteers who work at the labs, tutors young scientists, visits schools to teach children about bugs; identifies insects, prepares specimens for the collection and publishes a quarterly newsletter for Canada's hundreds of retired entomologists.
But most of his time is spent drumming up money for CanaColl, the not-for-profit organization he founded 27 years ago that maintains Canada's national insect collection. The money he raises funds scientists from around the world to study at the collection; brings in scientists to help curate the collection; and pays for expeditions to collect specimens.

Both Mr. Becker and Mr. Cody know collecting and identifying bugs and plants aren't the priorities they were 40 years ago, when government science was driven by the pure advancement of knowledge. Today, science is driven by results that must be tied to strategic economic goals.

But Mr. McKenzie argues the collections they have faithfully maintained for years are a critical weapon in Canada's defence against the invasion of pests and diseases that can slip into the country on exports. With their work, Agriculture Canada can quickly find out what an insect, plant or fungus is, whether it's friend or foe, whether it's foreign or domestic, ensuring a safe and sustainable food supply.

"We have lots of experience. We may not put out at the same rate as the young bucks, but what we do can be more meaningful because we've been on those streets before," said Vern Burrows, an emeritus scientist.

Known as "Dr. Oats," Mr. Burrows is a retired plant breeder who has revolutionized the oat plant, and he's not going to stop until all his oat varieties are sown. He has bred and registered 22 varieties, written 90 articles and research papers and picked up a slew of awards along the way.

He's bred naked oats, bald oats, forage oats, dwarf oats and even oats insensitive to the length of the day. He's cooked them, curried them, stuffed them. You name it, he's tried it in the bid to get his dream crop in the ground.

He wants to see the protein-packed oat become a staple of livestock and on the tables of Canadians for every meal. That nutty, nutritious oat groat -- which has twice the protein of rice -- also has a soluble dietary fibre that lowers cholesterol.

"People say oats is a crop but I treat it like a religion, and I guess I do."

Mr. Burrows could command top dollar as an industry consultant, but instead has chosen to freely dispense his advice around the world. He's now helping China develop an oats industry as a protein-rich supplement to rice and feed for livestock. Rather than cashing in on his own work, taking it from the lab to market, he's looking for investors and entrepreneurs to grow his hull-less oats.

"I've got a good pension and don't need any more. I can only wear one pair of shoes at a time.

"Besides I'm more interested in helping others and getting this off the ground."

But Mr. Burrows says older, experienced scientists are critical to the government's relations with industry. They can attract investment, partners and profile that a young untried scientist could never bring.

"We're not taking the jobs of young people, far from it. We're out there bringing in money to hire students that otherwise wouldn't be hired."

Scientists are unlike most public servants. They typically join government in their 30s after completing doctorates. As a result, they tend to retire at an older age than most bureaucrats so they can rack up enough years of service to collect a full pension. Government downsizing called "Program Review" changed all that. The generous early retirement packages were used to entice many scientists to leave early with the promise they return and continue their work.

Federal unions say the growing number of honorary and emeritus scientists show that government's science budgets have been cut too deep. They worry emeritus scientists are being exploited as a cheap labour force to replace young scientists who aren't being hired.

"We're all in favour of the emeritus program to mentor young scientists as long as the young scientists are being hired," said Gary Corbett, vice-president of the Professional Institute of the Public Service, which represents federal scientists.

"If we have so many of them working for nothing more than office space then you have to ask whether it's the government position to have its science done for nothing. As valuable as they are you can't continue to have good science with just emeritus scientists. You have to nurture a new generation."

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Date Modified: 2000 01 14

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