Communicating science

Posted by Jean Adams

Not so long ago, I promised never to do another degree again. This came after finally completing an MSc in Psychology and Health in London. For 20 long weeks I caught the early flight to London each Thursday morning, attended lectures for two days, and then struggled to make it back to Newcastle before midnight on Friday evening. I learnt some stuff. I did an interesting dissertation that I’m still pretty pleased with. But overall, the effort was not worth the gain.

But another fellowship application, and another blank ‘training plan’ section, and I found myself thinking that the only thing I needed to do to become an ‘independent researcher’ was a Postgraduate Certificate in Science Communication – at the University of the West of England, in Bristol. A PGCert isn’t a degree anyway. So it’s not like I was breaking a promise.

Love the box hedge logo at UWE Frenchay campus

So let’s be clear: Bristol is further from Newcastle than London is. The travelling was longer, more expensive and more arduous this time; each trip was three days, rather than two. But, I only had to make six trips. And, most importantly, I learnt so much more during those six trips than I did from the 20 I made to London.

In a nutshell, I learnt that it’s all about story. Communicating stuff is about narrative. Communicating difficult science to people who aren’t necessarily that interested in it, is about telling a good story. You catch people’s attention with a compelling tale, then once you’ve got them hooked, you can slip in whatever you want – complex methods, difficult concepts, mashed swede, whatever.

Which is not exactly rocket science. But, you know, the science communication field is full of used-to-be scientists – if they were rocket scientists, they might have stayed in science.

I also got to do some pretty cool other stuff. I edited a (pretend) travel magazine, I set up a blog, I recorded and edited a podcast, I got totally over-excited in the Knit-a-Neuron workshop, I bought a copy of The Sunday Telegraph – for research purposes (which wasn’t that cool, but it’s certainly something I’ve never done before). In order to complete my writing portfolio, I attended a conference and pretended I was journalist, not a researcher. At the end of each day I wrote a 500 word news article on something I had heard. It made the whole experience a whole lot more immediate and exciting.

Which is all well and good, Dr. Adams, and we are certainly trying to encourage our staff to do more in the way of 'public engagement', but not at the expense of research excellence and impact.

I think this stuff is important for research excellence and impact too. Good research papers also tell good stories. Not necessarily in the same way that a newspaper or novel does, but without narrative your paper is just a series of facts (or, if you’re a social scientist, just a series of 'facts'). That's why you remember some research papers so much better than others. Ditto good grant applications, teaching sessions, and conference presentations.

So, I’m thinking about doing a degree in creative writing.

Only joking.

"My novel is YA / cross-over" - GAH

The reason for the GAH is that a novel is hardly ever genuinely cross-over and your claim that it is is rather like the claim in my recent post about age ranges. It induces much eye-rolling from the agent you've submitted to.


Every YA/teenage writer wants her book bought and devoured and loved by adults. Of course. Every adult writer wants the increased sales that would come from having

Pitch para - Witch, Nun, Shaman's Drum

A pitch paragraph for you to consider and comment on.

WITCH, NUN, SHAMAN’S DRUM by Cameron Lawton – fantasy romance, self-published.
I know Cameron via Twitter and she's very serious about getting her work (various genres) published and learning as she goes, so she will welcome your constructive advice. But be gentle - writers bleed!



Cameron’s pitch:
A Pagan re-telling of the Romeo and Juliet

Nothing personal

Posted by Peter Tennant

When I was four feet tall, and each year felt like a Chinese dynasty, certain annual events used to really standout. The first hot day of summer. That strange day when there were flying ants everywhere. And the day when young adults would cry in the streets.

Apparently they had 'A-levels'. Or more accurately, they didn't.

These days, I find it harder to notice anything among the blur. Christmas is a long lunch. Summer a short weekend. But every now and again, grown men and women can still be found crying. The tears are usually less visible. But there’s no doubt about it, Fellowship applications are the A-levels of the early career researcher.

Vladimir Putin, after hearing he didn't get his fellowship

In a recent post, Fuse director Martin White listed personal funding (in particular getting a Fellowship) as one of 10 "easy" steps to achieve "rapid and effective progression" in a research career. It reminded me of one of those weird logic puzzles. If Andrea is lazier than Beth, and Catherine is greedier than Delia, how many cakes will Delia eat before Andrea has woken up? In short, getting a Fellowship may make career progression easier, but it's certainly not easy to get one. At least not in my experience.

At this point, my academic enemy would probably volunteer a simple explanation. Like the overly-blunt PE teacher to the short fat boy (sorry, boy of below average height and above average weight) who doesn't understand why he's so rubbish at the high-jump. But as much as we might blame my own academic physique, the statistics tell a bruising story. For every 5-10 applications, only one will be successful.

On the surface of it, this doesn't sound too bad. At least not in a world where there are hundreds of applications for any one academic position. But firing off a job application and applying for a Fellowship are like chalk and cheese. Occasionally cheese may have a chalky texture. But I guarantee, the chalk and pickle sandwich will never catch on.

To start with, Fellowship applications belong to that special category of things that completely take over your life. Partly because they take up so much time – I reckon I did about 200 hours on my NIHR Fellowship application, not to mention the countless time staring into space 'thinking' about it. And whenever I did stop thinking about it, a friend would usually ask: "Have you heard about your Fellowship yet?".

But it's the personal focus that makes a Fellowship application so uniquely challenging. Yes, the project needs to appear excellent. But so do you. And, sadly, not just in the eyes of your Mum (sorry Mum, but I'm afraid 'having good A-levels' isn't quite enough any more). Which means there's lots to write about how great you are and why you deserve the money more than anyone else. There's no place for modesty. So if I ever come across like a egotistical jerk, I'm just practising for my next application. Honest.

Before finishing, I would like to offer some advice. Some magic formula that boosts those slim chances of acceptance. But as a twice-reject, you might as well ask McDonald's to help solve the obesity epidemic. All I can advise, is you try to keep your emotional distance. They might call it personal funding, but (believe it or not) rejection is nothing personal.

If it ain’t fixed, broker it

Guest post from Oliver Francis, Centre for Diet and Activity Research

Before I applied for my current job, I’d never heard of a Knowledge Broker. I’d always described what I did as ‘communications’. But a year in, this role has confirmed that the word 'communication' doesn’t really cover the challenges of linking public health evidence with policy and practice. In this time I’ve also met a couple of other ‘Brokers’ so I’m now a little less embarrassed about telling people my job title at parties.

As the recent Geek Manifesto reminds us, there are plenty of voices clamouring for more evidence-based policy making, so why does all this knowledge need brokering at all? Surely academics just need to publish their findings and they’ll be automatically taken up by policymakers and practitioners who want to do a good job.

Well, put simply, the world isn’t built like that. There are many barriers within the complex world of public health research translation. To take just one, there are often big gaps between the evidence that individual studies generate and the broader information that policymakers use to make their decisions. There are the practicalities of implementation, there’s money, ideology, politics, public opinion, the media. Or to put it another way: how many purely evidence-based decisions do you make in a day? Thought so.

Research translation: not so simples

One thing academics can do to help is make our research more available and easier to digest. So at CEDAR we’re producing short summaries of our research findings. Hopefully these Evidence Briefings are a step in the right direction. Indeed, these sorts of documents are increasingly common outputs from research groups, in addition to the wider syntheses of evidence coming from organisations such as NICE and (soon) Public Health England.

So, writing engaging and straightforward summaries of emerging, nuanced and complex evidence in no more than two pages… Simples! Well, actually, not so simples. For instance, how do we deal with expressing uncertainty for those who need to make clear cut decisions? How do we produce something that’s short enough to hold attention, but long enough to convey all the important information without a hundred web links? How do we convince a local authority in Newcastle to pay attention to findings generated in Cambridgeshire? People love case studies, but as we know, the plural of anecdote is not data. How can we make sure we tell only ‘true stories’?

Or should we just face up to the fact that there is a limit to what researchers can contribute to this process? Is the job of academic institutions just to produce summaries of the evidence in plain English, and then leave it to others to interpret them in the light of the demands of the so called ‘real world’?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Have a look at the first Briefing in the series about physical activity and schools, and take our quick survey to tell us what you think of it. Or post here, or contact me directly if you’ve something to share. Even if you don’t work in this particular area, your views can help us improve future Briefings on other topics, and hopefully make sure that as little as possible gets lots in translation.

Covering letters / query letters / submission letters

*waves to the audience at my Belfast Lit Festival event this evening*

For anyone approaching writing a submission letter for an agent or publisher, here is some basic advice, in advance of my forthcoming book, Dear Agent (scheduled for August 10th and published by the one and only Crabbit Publishing - me).


Many of you have heard this advice over and over again, so I apologise, but you wouldn't

The Slippery Slope

If You Eat Hamburgers, You Will Kill Billions of People

1. Hamburgers are made of cow.

2. Cows produce methane.

3. Methane is a greenhouse gas, 23 times more potent than carbon dioxide.

4. Methane comprises 14% of the world's greenhouse gas. By 2030 that could increase by 60%.

5. Greenhouse gases lead to global warming.

6. Global warming will lead to the sea level rising.

7. The sea level rising will lead to the ecosystem collapsing.

8. The ecosystem collapsing will kill billions.

9. So stop eating burgers, or you will destroy mankind.

This is a slippery slope argument--a logical fallacy that makes sense taken in small steps, but when all the small steps are put together it leads to a silly, baseless conclusion.

But in the case of this particular slippery slope, there is some merit to it. The world's consumption of beef is leading to more cows, which is leading to more methane. While saying that eating a burger will kill billions is stretching the point to ridiculousness, at least each step taken individually seems plausible.

Right?

That hamburgers are made of cow and cows produce methane is irrefutable. So is the fact that methane is a greenhouse gas, and more potent than CO2. 

Then things get fuzzy. I pulled the 60% number of the net, and I'm sure there is some scientific justification behind it, but we truly won't know for sure until it happens.

We can guess. But we don't know. This isn't a scientific experiment with a control group. Saying the earth's methane output will rise 60% may look good on paper, it it isn't the same thing as saying 2 + 2 = 4, or mix oxygen and hydrogen and you'll get water.

Greenhouse gases do lead to global warming. Venus is a pretty decent example of this. But it can be argued that global warming is cyclical and has little to do with humans, or that it is manageable, or that a hundred other things might happen before sea levels start to rise.

The ecosystem collapsing is a pretty big leap. And if the ecosystem does collapse, how can we be sure billions will die?

That's the problem with guesses. They cause fear, but are unproven until they happen.

But you probably looked at the original statement, that eating burgers will kill billions, and realized it was bullshit from without me dissecting it. Other statements, however, aren't as obvious.

Let's look at another slippery slope argument:

The Agency Model Encourages Competition and Is Good

1. Amazon has the lion's share of the ebook market.

2. Amazon has sold ebooks for under the publisher's cover price, and below cost.

3. Other retailers can't sell this low, and will be driven out of business.

4. The only way to save retailers is if publishers set the retail price of books.

5. If Amazon becomes a monopoly, they will harm authors and readers.

6. Publishers had no choice but to stop Amazon from predatory pricing, to protect competition and for the good of everyone.

The first two points are true. Amazon does have the lion's share of the ebook market, and they have sold ebooks at below cost.

But we need a bit more information here. Amazon pretty much single-handedly created the current ebook market. Just like they created online bookselling. As Bob Mayer says, Amazon didn't exist except for in Jeff Bezos's mind back in 1994.

Amazon listened hard to what readers wanted, and it fulfilled those wants. They've kept prices low. I'd guess they do it to attract customers, because customers are drawn to low prices. But I truly don't know Amazon's motivation, other than the fact that they are a company in business to make money. Just like Big Publishing. Except Amazon seems to be doing it by giving people what they want, rather than forcing people to take what is offered.

Then we get to "retailers will be driven out of business."

That can cause an emotional, knee-jerk reaction when someone hears it. We don't want companies to go out of business. We all know companies that have. That leads to people losing their jobs, which is sad. It leads to places we once liked to go to no longer existing. That's sad. As human beings, we don't like to see unemployment, and we don't like to see bullies.

But this statement is no different than stating greenhouse gases lead to global warming. Certainly, they might. But we won't truly know until it happens. Until it does, it's fear mongering.

A lot of bookstores might blame Amazon for putting them out of business, or competing unfairly. Welcome to capitalism, kids. That's like saying, "My girlfriend left me for another guy who is more attractive and treats her better."

Don't blame the guy. Blame your girlfriend for preferring someone over you. And blame yourself for not stepping up your game to win her back.

Nobody owes anyone a living. Just because you did well in the past doesn't mean you deserve to do well in the future, especially in the face of competition. If you want to run your own business, you better pay attention to what the customers want. If you can't give them what they want, you shouldn't be in business.

Then we get to the next giant leap in logic; the only way to save retailers is to let publishers set retail price.

Huh? How can otherwise smart men and women seriously say and believe something so stupid?

If the price of a book is the same everywhere, that leads to less competition, not more competition. Customers are price conscious, and they will shop for the best deal. You can lure them to your store many different ways, but price is one of the biggies.

Taking away a store's ability to set a retail price is fixing the game.

The other side to that coin also needs to be addressed. Not only do stores get harmed by not being able to set prices, but there is nothing illegal, immoral, or unfair when companies do set prices.

Passive Guy says it very well:

In the United States, it is not against the law to sell at low prices. It is not against the law to sell products for less than they cost. It is not against the law for you to price your products so low that you put other retailers out of business. For all intents and purposes, it is virtually impossible to win an antitrust case based upon predatory pricing.

Show me a case where a retailer used predatory pricing to drive competitors out of business. And let's say you find a case or two, what's wrong with that? The customer benefits from lower prices.

But you can't say "Amazon is evil for keeping prices low" because people will think you're an idiot. Show me someone who doesn't want to pay less for something.

So instead, the pinheads use a slippery slope argument, and a damn poor one at that, to instill fear in those who aren't paying close attention.

I also have to ask, is the Agency Model really the only way to save bookstores and publishers? There really are no other ways?

You see how silly that is, right? Especially since I've shown, many times, how bad the Agency Model is for authors and customers.

Which brings us to Amazon's potential monopoly power, and how it will hurt everyone.

Huh?

People love to bash Walmart. Walmart ruins communities. Walmart destroys American Main Streets. Walmart murders malls. Walmart forces poor mom and pop shops out of business.

And then, once Walmart takes over a town and enslaves the populace, it triples all of its prices, holding customers hostage.

Except that it doesn't. The great evil empire that is Walmart keeps its prices low, even after it has killed the competition.

Hmm. Kinda sounds like Amazon, which continues to keep prices low, no matter how many businesses it allegedly destroys.

So what are we afraid of exactly?

Oh, yeah. All the unemployment. All the jobs lost. Except for the 65,000 people Amazon employs. And the tens of thousands of authors who--many for the first time--are making money.

But once Amazon reaches a critical mass and eliminates everyone, certainly it will begin a reign of terror, even though that is the exact opposite of everything Amazon has done thusfar.

It could happen. Just like cows could cause the icecaps to melt. Just wait and see it to get proof.

Except I doubt we'll ever get that proof. Companies have always competed with Amazon, and I'm sure more will come along. Amazon hasn't put Smashwords, or Kobo, or B&N out of business. They didn't put Borders out of business (nor did the raise prices on books once Borders collapsed.) And the Agency Model isn't the reason these other companies have been able to compete. Innovation, location, and customer service are how they've stayed alive. They were around before the Agency Model. Some will be around after it ends. And new companies will enter the game.

That's capitalism for you.

Capitalism is not about allowing the publishing cartel to collude so they can continue screwing readers with high prices and authors with unconscionable contracts.

Capitalism is not about putting businesses on life support when they refuse to innovate or cater to their customers.

Capitalism is not about price-fixing.

And competition doesn't exist for its own sake. The point of business isn't to encourage competition. The point of business is to beat the competition by having more customers. The more businesses in a market, the more a customer will benefit, unless the businesses collude to fix prices.

I'll say it again: No one owes you a living. And I won't weep for any company that whines, lies, or makes bullshit arguments to stay afloat. You shouldn't either.