The Covid Commission can do anything – except make science the enemy

During the Covid pandemic, a section of the Italian right chose to politicise almost everything: from the handling of the pandemic to the vaccination programme, turning health and scientific issues into a political battleground. Some criticisms were, and remain, entirely legitimate. It was possible to debate the lockdown, the closure of schools, the proportionality of the restrictions, the protection of individual freedoms and the mistakes made during the various stages of the emergency. In a democracy, not only is it possible to do so: it is a duty.

The problem arises when criticism of political decisions becomes confused with the delegitimisation of science. In recent years, in certain sections of the centre-right, legitimate scepticism has sometimes been accompanied by an undermining of the medical and scientific communities and, in some cases, of well-established knowledge. It is a dangerous short circuit.

Politics has the task of making decisions. Science has the task of studying the facts on the basis of the available evidence. These are different spheres. A minister may make a mistake, just as a scientist or a technical committee may. But acknowledging a scientific error does not mean replacing the scientific method with a political conviction.

Science, after all, is not democratic: it does not decide by majority vote. A piece of data does not become false simply because it is unpopular, nor does evidence become true simply because it garners widespread support. Scientific knowledge progresses through data, verification, debate and the ability to correct itself when new evidence emerges. It is precisely this ability to correct errors that is one of its greatest strengths.

The parliamentary commission of inquiry into Covid should also move in this direction. Investigating the handling of the pandemic is both legitimate and necessary: we need to understand which decisions worked, which had negative consequences, what political and administrative responsibilities have emerged, and where the state has shown its weaknesses.

But its aim should be, above all, to learn from mistakes in order to be better prepared for the next emergency. The risk, however, is that a commission of inquiry may be perceived as a tool to fuel a political battle against the scientific community, taking on a more ideological than investigative stance. That would be a missed opportunity.

The question we should be asking is not just who was at fault, but what we need to change. How can we improve protocols? How can we make data usage more transparent? How can we communicate more effectively during a crisis? How can we protect public health, education, the economy and individual freedoms all at the same time?

A political force that aspires to govern should aim to address these questions without turning science into a political adversary. Catering to the most radical elements of one’s electorate may yield immediate support, but risks leaving behind a legacy of mistrust in institutions that, in the long run, harms everyone.

Criticising the lockdown does not mean being anti-science. Challenging a public health measure does not mean denying reality. Calling for transparency regarding the data does not mean undermining the authority of doctors. But turning mistrust of science into a political identity is another matter entirely.

The lessons learnt from the Covid crisis should serve to build a country that is better prepared, not simply more divided. Politicians have the right – and the duty – to assess the decisions that have been taken. But they must do so without confusing criticism of those in power with a denial of the facts. Because it is one thing to hold people to account for the mistakes made during a pandemic. It is quite another to turn science into an enemy. The former is democracy. The latter is populism.