Complete Science Communication

A Guide to Connecting with Scientists, Journalists and the Public

Ryan C Fortenberry

• Publisher: Royal Society of Chemistry
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781788015486
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Languages & Linguistics
• Subtopic: Communication Studies
• Index: Languages & Linguistics

Science communication is a rapidly expanding area, and a key component of many final year undergraduate and postgraduate courses. Authored by a highly regarded chemist and science communicator, this textbook pulls together all aspects of science communication. Complete Science Communication focusses on four major aspects of science communication: writing for non-technical audiences and science journalism; writing for technical audiences and peer-reviewed journal writing; public speaking of science; and public relations. It first showcases how writing in a journalistic style is done and provides a guide for colloquially communicating science. Then, the art of writing scientific papers is conjoined to this idea to make technical manuscripts more digestible, readable, and, hence, citable. These ideas are next taken into the spoken word so that the scientist can engage in telling their science like that natural human art of campfire stories. Finally, all of thesecommunication concepts are wrapped together in a discussion of public relations, providing the scientist with an appreciation for the marketing directors and news disseminators with whom they will work. Written in an accessible way, this textbook will provide science students with an appreciative understanding of communication, marketing, journalism, and public relations. They can incorporate these aspects into their own practices as scientists, allowing them to liaise with practitioners in the communication field.

1

The Art and Motivation of Science Communication

Discussing the communication of science must begin with communication theory itself. The most pertinent theories and backgrounds of contemporary communication understanding are described including symbol theory, culture as communication, common ground, and the evolution of human language. These all point to the idea that science has emerged with its own language and various dialects, typically in line with the traditional scientific sub-disciplines. This background provides the basis for understanding how human beings communicate whether they are scientists or not. However, the communication of science is woven into the discussion.

1.1 Introduction

The most important sentence in an entire document, any document, is the very first sentence. If a reader makes it past the title, the only thing that he or she is guaranteed to read is the first sentence of the first section. “This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate,” to quote Dickens. The first sentence is everything. Then, if luck should have it and the reader continues, the rest of the first paragraph will elaborate on this one idea to add a little context and further information. The rest of the document supports the first paragraph which, in turn, supports the first sentence. This present text follows that same format. It would be hypocritical for it not to do so. Hopefully, that has already been guessed.

While every reader subconsciously follows this tenet, as writers we often neglect this prime example of our Pleistocene brains. If something is not immediately beneficial or dangerous, we move on; we forget it. It is not useful. There is another berry to gather, another predator to detect, another rival tribesman to scare away. As advanced as we are, largely due to science, our brains still function in this tribal, hunter-gatherer fashion. While some view this as a limitation on humanity to be changed, in truth, it is what makes us human and can often empower our dazzling insights. Hence, as scientists and communicators, we must understand this limitation and know how to employ it to our advantage and not fight it.

1.2 The Written Word

If science is not written down, it may as well have never been done. The transfer of information from one person to the next is the key to furthering knowledge such that each individual does not (nearly literally) have to reinvent the wheel and build the same knowledge from nothing. The collapse of civilization only takes place when the lessons of the past are not learned. Science must be written down so that its lessons can be learned whether in success or failure, so that this information can be transferred from one human brain to another. Repeating things over and over again expecting a different result was Einstein’s definition of insanity, but how can one know if something has already been done if it is not recorded for posterity through an accessible medium in some timeless fashion? The most timeless medium is the written word.

Chimpanzees (with their 98% genetic similarity to humans) provide their young with nurturing and life skills passed down from one generation to the next. Some have found novel ways of breaking sticks to dig out insects from burrows. Others know that some trees are better for climbing than others. Still more are experts in getting delicious snacks like honey through the use of specialized tree-burrowing techniques they have devised. However, if the family of chimpanzees is wiped out except for a single infant, that lone survivor will never have the knowledge of his ancestors. In theory, if all the chimps could tell the other chimps about their advances, they would be immensely more capable for having that knowledge. This is truly what separates humans from primates, and that pursuit of knowledge through experiment is science. Chimps, dolphins, and even bird-brains like turkeys can communicate distinctively with one another, but like all other species cannot access this exact information again once auditory communication ceases.

The written word is not natural for humans, either. Like chimpanzees, we are social creatures knit together by shared experiences rehashed in story form dozens of times. However, our ability to process symbols and meaning from otherwise useless objects such as religious trinkets, jewelry, and icons paved the way for the advancement of permanently stored information. Initially, civilization and its rise dictated that numerical records be kept, likely the earliest form of written text. Hence, instead of one manager or a handful of record keepers having to memorize the entire finances of a kingdom, written text offered the ability to keep track, make copies, and reduce mistakes. As a result, the human brain’s amazing ability to store vast quantities of information could be employed in more advanced ways.

But how do these symbols we associated with numbers or words actually work? This is rarely considered by most of us who take it for granted that a “C” conjoined to an “H” makes the same sound that begins the word associated with common poultry. We learn that this is the sound for the symbol and simply move on. In truth, there is not much more to it than that. Symbols are chosen to represent things that are spoken whether through parts of syllables (Latin and Germanic scripts), whole syllables (Cherokee script), or whole words (Chinese and most other East Asian scripts). However, the rub comes in understanding that symbols are not just written words but spoken words.

Our brains perceive the world in ways as unique to each of us as our fingerprints, retinal patterns, and DNA. We then encode this information into words. Sometimes these are spoken. Sometimes, with modern humans, they are written. In either case, they must be decoded by a receiver such that his or her brain can interpret these symbols based on his or her own experiences. The basic idea for this process is called the Shannon–Weaver model of communication from a 1948 publication by these two individuals entitled A Mathematical Theory of Communication and is depicted in Figure 1.1. A sender encodes a message, and transmits it through a medium to be acquired and decoded by a receiver. This encoding is the creation of symbols. Standardization of such symbols is the essence of language. What these symbols actually are is purely a choice of common ground between sender and receiver.

Figure 1.1A visual depiction of the Shannon–Weaver model of communication.

This idea of common ground is essential for any form of communication. The two parties must have enough in common (usually language but even beyond that in shared experiences) in order for the concepts of one to be understood by the other. Forming common ground with any receiver is the key to effective communication. Note from Figure 1.1 how seemingly simple symbols can be easily misinterpreted. This is why standardization of symbols is necessary for communication and even what so often defines culture.

Most of our words have derived from a need to survive, whether through the procurement of food or to fend off invaders or predators, but all stem from a need to communicate with other people to accomplish tasks that we cannot (or choose not) to perform on our own. As a result, different cultures have different words for the same thing. Sometimes one word in one language can have several subtypes of the item being described and encoded to delineate. Snow is the classic example with its one English word and dozens in languages of the First Nations Peoples of Alaska and Canada. Different cultures have different reasons for encoding different things. The San or Basarwa people of the Kalahari Desert (as well as the Xhosa of South Africa) even have more consonants than European languages do. They add various clicks and chirps. The reason is simple. As a true hunter-gatherer people, the fewer sounds that can be made to communicate the same amount of information, the less likely game are to be spooked when members of the hunting party converse with one another. However, it is within these confines of history, culture, survival, art, and even politics that languages have evolved. Now, we as modern humans have to take this hodgepodge of context and encode information that such language was never meant to encode.

We invent our own words for new experiences, and science is certainly no exception. Granted, most of these made-up scientific words have roots in modern or arcane languages that are often broken down to their simplest forms and joined back in a different way. For example, the series of bones up one’s spine, vertebrae, comes from the Latin for “to turn” which those of us who enjoy yoga can appreciate. However, this word has now also been co-opted by mathematicians, engineers, and scientists to refer to the direction perpendicular to the horizon, where the latter word has its own etymology. Our spines go up and down in the “vertical” direction. “Vertical” now has nothing to do with turning, but it has everything to do with how your backbone rises away from the ground. As a result, these words frequently become specialized, specific, and esoteric. In many ways this is a good thing. Just like the San of Botswana, communicating the same amount of information in as few symbols as possible is a very good idea. This reduces error and communication time such that time-sensitive information can be discussed quickly. However, it can be a nightmare to learn because the new usage and original meaning diverge so strongly that common ground is impossible to establish. As such, science (or any technical level of communication) fits many definitions of a new language replete with its own dialects such as chemistry, physics, biology, and the like.

Reading new words again and again in context is almost no different to our brains than hearing them over and over in conversation. After all, they are simply symbols for our brain to decode, whether heard or read, and put into the context of our personal experiences and memories. As a result, writing science is the best way to keep it for posterity and to enable others to learn this new language. Luckily, most of the syntax and grammar of “the language of science” is the same as the parent tongue. Furthermore, we can return to the same information repeatedly and cogitate on the implication of those symbols potentially in new ways each time; Buddhist monks have been doing this for millennia and finding new meaning in old texts.

The printing press, the age of enlightenment, and the age of exploration all largely coincided (largely not by coincidence) leading Europeans to look beyond their typical experiences and expand their knowledge. Sailors now could consult maps with numerical and textual information to point them in directions necessary to grow trade, which also benefitted from being recorded. The quartermaster or navigator could easily be injured or killed, rendering the mission doomed in one way or another were it not for permanent records. The pilots and captains could also make comments in situ in the ship’s log in order to share later with shipbuilders about what worked well in watercraft design and what did not. These bits of information could be shared across crews and nations, and such maps or ship plans were highly prized booty for privateers or pirates.

Beyond these primal and early technology examples, writing information is the easiest way to share data without losing it. In the modern context, data are written and shared electronically instead of in print. They are no less useful; probably more so, in fact. Data and results can be shared instantaneously across the globe bringing together practitioners and experts who otherwise would have no other means of connecting. Newton may have never left the south of England thanks to the postal service, and today he would have even less need to do so. As a result, the text and information driven by electronic media make it necessary to take the hunter-gatherer words and contexts and make an art form of them, to communicate ideas that they were never intended to communicate, but must. The art comes in taking one thing and creating something new from it, often in ways never intended. Such is the art of science communication. In this way, scientific ideas will continue to double our knowledge every few months, and the information will be accessible to those who need or even want to know it.

In this text, popular and scientific writing will each be covered as whole chapters. Writing is the anchor of the scientific discourse as most scientific arguments take place through research papers and not in personal interactions (although such have happened; scientists are people after all). All scientific writing must be clear, concise, and correct, but it must also be tailored for the audience. We do invent special words that not all laymen know, after all. This text will teach new principles of writing science as an art form in order to make it the most effective it can be, even with our hunter-gatherer, Shannon–Weaver, symbolic vernacular.

1.3 Communication

If science is not shared with others, it might as well have never been done. This is true whether the science is encoded in spoken or written symbols, or for interpretation by experts or non-experts. Two individuals look at the same problem differently. But by increasing the pool of potential problem solvers to all of humanity, the odds of difficult problems being solved collaboratively increases greatly. Additionally, if advancements that lead to longer, happier, healthier lives are made, non-experts must be told so that they can enjoy the benefits of someone else’s scientific advancement. Science must be shared.

The Wright brothers are credited with inventing the motorized, heavier-than-air airplane and successfully flying it in late 1903. However, they were so concerned that their idea would be stolen that few people actually heard about the initial event until 1904. Some in Europe even publicly denounced them as frauds. However, their tours of the United States and Europe eventually convinced most that they had done what they said, largely due to the skill in controlling the aircraft that no novice could exhibit. Had their idea and successful action not garnered such subsequent acceptance, the history of flight could have been marked in very different ways, and the license plates for the state of North Carolina would have needed a different motto. It all came down to communication. The idea and breakthrough was not initially communicated, making many doubt its validity.

The basic idea behind communication is dissemination, the ability to spread an idea through a group of people. This dissemination is key to the advancement of science. The mass media were first established in the Anglophone world with the printed word in 1476 by William Caxton as the first English language printer. He printed books, but later his output grew to include pamphlets and newspapers. Arguably the largest success of the printed word was the American Revolution. The ideas of liberty and self-determination away from the aloof Parliament in London were printed to stir the hearts of the Colonials to the point where they were willing to sacrifice themselves for ideas of people whom they may have never met. Ideas were passed from one individual to another, and a nation was born. The audience of the masses was eventually also reached through radio, television, and now the Internet, the unifier of all media.

The printing press along with radio and television limited the power to send out messages to a select few who had the funds to initiate any of these enterprises. Those who wished to submit messages to the masses had to court those who had control or access. This led to a reasonable amount of trust in those who controlled these outlets and a marked amount of prestige. The Internet has changed that. Anyone can voice anything. We see this in the way that people choose and select information that they wish to hear or not to hear, leading to warped and misinformed opinions. However, the role of those with access has not changed in some spheres. In science we call this peer-review.

The goal of peer-review is to provide a means of self-regulation for the quality of information that is disseminated. Once an idea is published, especially today on the Internet, it is impossible for it to be retracted and deleted. Andrew Wakefield’s infamous autism debacle is a classic example. In any case, peer-review is still alive and well in science, as it should be even with a few erroneous pieces making it through. Those sources that still hold rigorous peer-review are still revered, and, to their credit, those of the highest respect have been able to adapt to the non-printed, electronic word.

While publishers and houses of peer-review are a natural source for the expert or curious albeit informed bystander, the layperson likely gets his or her information from less reputable but no less convincing sources. As science communicators, we must learn how to harness this untamed beast and communicate with individuals again through their Pleistocene brains and Middle Age languages. Journalists have been doing this for centuries. It is time that we as scientists learned the time-tested skills of journalism in order to effectively disseminate our knowledge. Later chapters of this text also argue that such journalistic techniques should even be brought into the hallowed halls of peer-review. As culture and society change so does language. This will creep into true scientific writing, as well, and we, as scientists, must not fight this tide but learn to employ the wave.

1.4 Deciphering Science/Choosing an Audience

If science is not interpretable, it might as well have never been done. In truth, the audience is what chooses the communication. As mentioned above, in science words are invented to communicate new ideas, but these can be foreign to those not trained in the same field. The goal of science communication is to make sure that new ideas are made available to those who “need to know.” This is not about keeping national secrets classified, but about enabling the proper people to hear the proper information in as clear, concise, and correct means as possible.

If an asteroid is making its way towards the Earth, astronomers and planetary scientists would need to discuss the impending tragedy in a means different from engineers and soldiers....