Collide-a-scape

Yesterday, Nature’s online editor set off a mini squall with this Guardian column, titled “Nine ways scientists demonstrate they don’t understand journalism.” The response from the science blogosphere was pretty negative. For some reason, this surprised me–well the darts thrown at the piece by many writers did, anyway.

I kinda got into it a bit on twitter, which was like nibbling at an Oreo cookie. I then thought some deep thoughts and presto, this short riff at the Yale Forum on Climate Change & the Media emerged.

Randy Olson, in response to this post, offers an unstinting and thought-provoking commentary on science communication. Olson is a marine biologist turned filmmaker. One of his movies is called Flock of Dodos, which might best characterize his view of  the science community–with respect to their overall communication skills. 

Although critical of scientists, Olson also offers some constructive suggestions below. Have a read and let’s discuss.

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Interesting discussion here.  Lots of good points.  I like Tom Fuller’s plea for simplicity — which is exactly what’s needed for broad communication.  And by the way, all of my essays, comments and my book are directed at trying to reach the general public, not the hard core aficionado crowd you get on serious climate blogs — it’s two different modes of communication. I also love Jonathan Gilligan’s Dirty Harry idea — as a simple PSA it would be better than the vast majority of the dull offerings of the NGOs in their efforts — the sort of Russian Roulette we’re playing with the planet, which is another variation on the loading the dice metaphor that is often used.

As for Michael Tobis, I don’t think you quite get my comment about scientists being “mumblers.”  That’s what they are, in essence, when it comes to broad communication.  They are the guy at the party over in the corner mumbling the truth as the loudmouthed fools in the middle blabber on and on about topics they know nothing about but have read of on blogs.  Specifically there is no excuse for me to hear Bill Maher last September say that Climategate revealed scientists “fudging” their data when 5 investigations had already shown nothing of the sort.  The problem occurred because all the science world had managed to do with the 5 investigations was mumble about them (meaning tout them on blogs that few people read).   I wrote about it at the time here. 

The science world has never had a need to engage in large scale public relations, but that’s because the world has never been like it is today.  This is not your father’s science world.  This is not just the world of Twitter, it is also the world of magazine articles written last fall by journalists (Andrew David H. Freedman in the Atlantic, Jonah Lehrer in the New Yorker, you can Google them both) who have nothing against the science world, but are pointing out there are major psychological flaws in the brains of all humans, including scientists, that lead to high levels of false positives and other significant sources of noise.

All of which means the time has come to take a deeper interest in understanding these basic dynamics of storytelling that we are all burdened with.  And that is the key point of my essay on uncertainty.  Your audience is defective to begin with — we are ALL defective.  That’s what the two articles point out.  People don’t respond to “just the facts” in the way you wish they did.  But there are ways to deal with this that do not involve dishonesty or distortion.  One of which is making certain the public is aware of how much certainty you have provided them in the past.

Last month I published this editorial in The Solutions Journal.

One of my suggestions/complaints/observations is why in the world isn’t the climate science community taking credit for the amazing amount of benefits they have brought our society through an understanding of El Nino.  Twelve years ago in California the term was a blank slate.  Today it is part of the way of life.  That is a huge amount of certainty climate science has provided.  That certainty builds public trust, but only if the public is made to realize who is responsible for it.

It’s called positive public relations.  Corporations understand this dynamic.  But the science world simply does not.  And I’m now telling you this from down in the trenches.  The public health and medical science worlds have connected with my book and the basic message of “Don’t be such a scientist,” and are reaching out to me now for lots of workshops with doctors, epidemiologists and medical researchers.  They understand this need to be accountable and connect with the general public.

But the climate crowd is still back in this philosophy of, “the truth is plenty scary enough.”  Just spouting the facts no longer works.  There has to be an understanding of how NOISY our society has become, and what needs to be done to deal with it.  It’s not impossible, but it requires an acceptance that the world has changed.  And that’s a hard thing for a lot of the older generation of scientists.  I know.  I’m talking directly to these old guys.  They don’t appreciate my message.  But they are on a sinking ship.  Something needs to be done.

What to make of this latest study charting American ignorance?

Well, let’s see. Are we flunking history? Check. Are we flunking geography? Check. Are we this flunking basic science? Check.

So it should come as no surprise that Americans are a wee bit challenged on the basics of climate science.

I have two questions: Do other countries similarly track how stupid their citizens are? And, whose fault is it that only 1 in 10 Americans (surveyed by Yale) are “very well informed” about climate change issues?

UPDATE: In the comments, an objection to my word choice (which I find a fair criticism) has been made here. Also, a contextual (and to my mind, more accurate) take on that 1 in 10 statistic I cite can be found here.

In yesterday’s NYT, I learned that Alan Alda has taught scientists how to use improvisational acting techniques so they can be better communicators.

Alda explains:

The idea is you can’t really communicate ideas unless you know what’s going on in the other person’s mind.

Carl Zimmer surveys the science communication landscape over the last ten years. As he notes, many scientists today are taking matters into their own hands. To understand how radical this is, Zimmer shares a hilarious anecdote on how scientists responded to the 1999 Kansas Board of Education decision on evolution.

[UPDATE: See comment # 5 for clarification and added detail about the Childs talk that I discuss below. Now I wish more SW archaeologists would weigh in...but most of them don't read blogs, as far as I can tell.]

Craig Childs advising archaeologists on how to write for a popular audience is about as useful as Steven Spielberg advising them on how to make movies. (So you don’t like Indiana Jones…well, here’s how you can make your own movies…)

There are very, very few scientists who have the inclination, much less the ability, to write for both an academic and general audience. In fact, I’d argue it’s damn near impossible to pull off. I’m not sure I’d even suggest archaeologists waste their time trying unless they had a passion to write. And they knew how to use the literary tool box.

Then there is this fact: scienitsts who have demonstrated the requisite motivation and writerly skills usually devote the majority of their time to communicating with a popular audience. They cease being active scholars.

Via Gambler’s House, I hear that Childs cites Steve Lekson as a shining example of archaeologist as popular communicator. No, that wouldn’t be accurate. I say that as a big fan of Steve’s. What Lekson does is write grand narratives that help archaeologists broaden their perspectives. (And instead of being appreciative, they criticize him for it.)

To really communicate to a popular audience, Lekson has to take it to the next level and start emulating Jared Diamond, E.O. Wilson, Carl Safina, Oliver Sachs, Carl Sagan, et al.   These are the real popular communicators of science; they are synthesizers, storytellers and literary talents. They are also a rare breed; if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll know whether you have what it takes to join that club.

Instead, what I would suggest is that archaeologists learn from Gambler’s House and become bloggers.  And they need not possess the literary chops to reach a wider audience. Just look at the success of Real Climate. It’s an influential group blog, comprised mainly of climatologists. They play a big role in the public climate debate.

Another good example would be Savage Minds, an anthropology group blog. They don’t have the same reach as Real Climate, but that’s because their areas of interest don’t intersect with controversial political and policy issues.

Still, the success of both sites suggests it is possible to communicate to your fellow scientists and the outside world. Maybe in a few years, Gambler’s House will be returning to Pecos to give a talk on how it’s done.

Meanwhile, if GH could write a post about the elephant in the big tent at Pecos, I’d be much obliged.