What can I do?

Through the magic of the intertubes, Blake has a dump-truck full of reflection on the current state of science blogging and what science blogs can't do. The question at the center of the post is "Can someone get a fair science education from reading science blogs?" and Blake says no, citing the general lack of interest in laying out the basic concepts of science. Unless you're personally motivated to contribute there isn't much incentive to write such introductory material; many of us write because we enjoy it and there just isn't an incentive to try and come up with a textbook chapter.

Speaking for myself, I don't feel especially compelled to write a "basics" post. I think it is a valuable exercise and I would encourage anyone who wants to undertake the task but it isn't for me. I don't feel qualified to write an "Everything you need to know about X" post and I think I would probably run out of steam in the process, especially since it would probably be quickly forgotten and only get the occasional hit from a search engine after a few days.

Even beyond my lack of motivation to write a "basics" post I usually don't look at textbook-format material unless I'm looking for a specific piece of information or definition. I don't feel like I'm learning much when I'm reading a textbook or something of similar format; I often feel like I'm being clobbered over the head with a lot of information and most of it ends up not sticking around very long in my memory. What has been more beneficial to me has been trying to learn about something more detailed that can be used as an example to explain larger concepts. Regular readers know the impact that Stephen Jay Gould has had on my thinking and writing, and I think his essays provide good examples of how to take a quirk of history or biology and expand it to explain a larger point. That is where I think science blogs can excel.

While a post that is relatively narrow in scope might not provide the reader with "everything they need to know" about a given topic, such posts can be written in such a way that relevant material is brought in and connected. Understanding can be built upon bits and interconnected material, links and references providing the interested reader with places to look next. Not everyone learns in the same way, but for my own part I know I am better able to digest science when given somewhat narrow examples that can be then exploded rather than a more general summary that I need to commit to memory.

There are a few pitfalls, however. Most of the people who read this blog (and other science blogs) are already interested in science. Chances are that they already have a good understanding of the basics, and the presence of so many graduate students, professors, and working scientists on the blogosphere (either as writers or in the comments) allows us to converse using the technical terminology in the lexicon of each discipline. When I use terms like "carcharodontosaurid," and "abelisaurid," for example, I expect that many of you know what I mean. Saying that the former is a group of big honkin' theropods and that the latter is another group of big honkin' theropods would not be sufficient; accuracy requires that I use the right names. That's fine, but I get discouraged when I hear friends and family who check out this blog come back to me and say "It was way over my head. I couldn't understand some of it." When I get reactions like that I know I'm not doing my job well, and I'm trying to be more self-conscious about defining technical terms for people who might not know what I'm talking about.

As I have noted before I think that science bloggers could provide a potential crop of better science popularizers; people who know effectively and accurately communicate science in conventional mass media outlets. On the flip side of this, as much as we complain about how reporters often drop the ball when it comes to science writing there are a number of things that we can learn from professional journalists, particularly in terms of style. The boundaries between science blogging and professional journalism are already being frequently crossed and I hope that the flow between the two grows.

To bring things to an end, let's go back to Blake's thesis statement;

My thesis is that it's not yet possible to get a science education from reading science blogs, and a major reason for this is because bloggers don't have the incentive to write the kinds of posts which are necessary.

Is this true? Well, yes and no. If you know absolutely nothing about evolutionary biology, physics, ecology, or any other discipline you care to name you are not going to find the equivalent of a college course here on the science blogosphere. That doesn't mean that it is not possible to gain some science education from the continuing efforts of so many writers, however. Writers may deal in specifics, talking about a certain animal, paper, event, etc., but when specific explanations are put in context they can illuminate larger concepts. Take the new paper on the tetrapod Ventastega curonica. The 365 million year old fossil represents another amazing transitional form from the time when a members of a particular group of fish (the sarcoptergygians) gave rise to the first four-legged vertebrates that walked on land. (In fact I am surprised that it has not been more widely covered on the blogosphere already.) Any good science blogger is going to recognize that the scientific names are not going to have meaning for everyone and explain how this paper fits (or doesn't fit) into what we already know. Even if the delivery of such background information is brief it can still help someone who is unfamiliar with the terms and ideas get up to speed.

Technical discussions are great and I am glad to see so many blogs dealing with delicious details, but as the blogosphere changes I hope that we will step back and remember what it was like when we were just beginning to learn. We say that we want to generate a greater understanding of science, to get more people interested, and if that really is true I think we have every opportunity to do so through our writing. It might not be the most momentous start but I can think of no other way to bring about change than trying to live up to the standards we say we want to see.

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Well said.

Regular readers know the impact that Stephen Jay Gould has had on my thinking and writing, and I think his essays provide good examples of how to take a quirk of history or biology and expand it to explain a larger point. That is where I think science blogs can excel.

I like that idea. Certainly, one can explain a "basic concept" — by which I really mean anything that's important for understanding a whole bunch of other stuff — in many different ways. You can take a historical approach, you can begin with a detail and expand outward, and you can do lots of other stuff. I don't want to imply that a "basic concepts post" has to be a long version of a dictionary entry. ("Carcharodontosaurid, noun: a carnivorous theropod dinosaur which . . .") What matters is that it conveys the core of a useful idea which we need to know about if we're to work seriously with the science.

Suppose that, in the course of a biographical note on Ernst Stromer, you explain the cladistics of the Carcharodontosauridae. That's fine: even if it's addressed in passing, the material is available, and a person who reads it will be able to work with the knowledge and use it later, making other discussions comprehensible. The essay doesn't have to be titled "Phylogeny of Carcharodontosaurids and Abelisaurids", nor does it have to be restricted to that subject. What matters is that (a) it gets written and (b) it can be found when we're having another discussion about phylogeny later.

When I use terms like "carcharodontosaurid," and "abelisaurid," for example, I expect that many of you know what I mean. Saying that the former is a group of big honkin' theropods and that the latter is another group of big honkin' theropods would not be sufficient; accuracy requires that I use the right names.

Fairly often, I run into that sort of situation. Physics has the added bonus that many of its words sound rather ordinary or have everyday meanings: "force", "symmetry" and such. Mathematical terms like "set" or "group" or even "space" have their own baggage, and unless you've encountered them before, you won't know what's going on. In everyday speech, a set is basically the same as a group, but in mathematical jargon, that ain't so. Now, suppose I want to use a bit of physicist-speak like, e.g., "symmetry group". A graduate student or an advanced undergrad wouldn't need a definition at all; a freshman or sophomore might need a basic but technical introduction; and a member of the Seed-reading public would need something with the technicalities scaled way back. I can either write these myself, which delays my getting to the thing I want to discuss, or I can try to find an exposition elsewhere. Often, when hunting for such a hyperlink, I can't find one: either the page I want doesn't exist or it's too obscure to be located.

Scientific knowledge is only useful when it forms a structure, rather than a heap of disjointed pieces. Ultimately, I think there's a limit to how much science can change worldviews and inspire people when the audience can't apply what they've learned. Lacking the ability to even guess that a phenomenon we're seeing has a scientific explanation, we cannot pose good questions, and not knowing where or how to seek answers, we fall back on regurgitation.

Blake; An excellent reply, as always. I did not want to oversimplify your argument or present a straw man; I was just thinking out loud about how my interpretation of a "basics" post vs. my regular fare contrast.

Like you note, it's difficult to get people to care about science when they don't know how to apply what they've learned. I think this is distinct from the "Well, what good does it do?" utilitarian-type concept. Discovering a new tetrapod might not do anything in terms of monetary or medical payoffs, but it is still flippin' cool that our ancestors once looked like that. If we just had the plain information, a fishapod lived 365 mya, it doesn't mean much; without context it loses meaning.

As I noted in this post I think that one of the biggest potential problems science bloggers face (especially when they've built a community of regulars) is writing for people who are already interested and know the lingo. We end up preaching to the choir and then wondering why people on the "outside" don't care. I'm not about to judge the blogging habits of anyone else but I know I could do a much better job at explaining technical terms and providing more references for people who aren't necessarily on the same page. In fact it's harder to do on here (which I see as a kind of online science journal) than with my book. As I'm writing the book I assume nothing, that the reader doesn't know what I'm talking about, whereas online there are people who I know already have a fair background in the science and I don't need to spell everything out for. I still want to recognize that but I don't want to write material that is so specialized only a few people can understand it, either. I think I'm still learning how to strike the right balance.

This is pretty timely - for me, anyway. I'm someone who left the sciences a few years back and is now interested specifically in speaking using basic terms about scientific concepts.

This type of writing goes into different territory than a textbook chapter, by the way.

Gould, Dawkins, or Carl Zimmer, as prime examples, of course, prove the point that you can write about detailed scientific concepts competently, compellingly, and clearly, without the use of the heavy details.

After reading such work, a non-science person would likely fail a test given in a course on the subject - the deeper details aren't there. BUT, they would understand the overarching concepts in a way they had never known before. I really think this type of writing is crucial for the general public to have at their disposal - and the more that are good quality, the better.

I tried a rough, unedited hand at it for a few posts in a separate blog (I'm currently more of a social blogger) but realized that it is far too simplistic for scientists and completely inaccessible to those I would actually like to reach.

I kinda became discouraged at the lack of interest.

Is it bad writing? dead wrong on everything? completely uninteresting? I dunno, no one's told me anything. Well, I guess few have even seen it.

So what opportunity is there for a person like me, someone with a reasonable scientific awareness - though isn't *in* the sciences anymore, decent communication skills, and a real desire to help the average person get a better grip on the concepts?

Um... by "inaccessible to those I would actually like to reach," I actually meant that an average person would never just stumble on it.

However, even with it's very introductory level, I suppose the concepts themselves are still too complex. But I actually don't believe that. I choose to believe that given an inroad to which a person can relate, such a person could learn pretty much anything.

But I can be an idealist at times, so...

clear as mud:

It's very hard to write something which is useful both to scientists and to students just starting to learn about the field. I don't think this is a shocking revelation, but it does have a social consequence in the blogosphere, because if you don't catch your colleague's eye, you won't get traffic from their site to yours. One thing I've tried to do is mix posts of different technicality levels: I can write an equation-filled note for advanced undergraduates, let's say, and then follow it the next day with popularized remarks for the interested outsider. The more audiences to which you can appeal, the more attention you'll get, and attention is the valuable commodity.

Within an individual post, it can be rewarding to address a familiar topic in an exotic way. For example, I recently wrote about Kepler's Laws and the early decades of classical mechanics, subjects which practising physicists would find old hat. In order to spice things up, I brought in some of the names which most "textbook cardboard" treatments gloss over, including Robert Hooke and Christopher Wren in addition to Isaac Newton, and pointing out Galileo's precursors like Simon Stevin. (With this set up, I found myself able to make a point about how science is done today — a nice added bonus!) So, if you can use a new analogy or a neglected item of history, then people who already knew the science will appreciate it more.

I'm hopeful that the new "Giant's Shoulders" carnival, which will collect posts on classic science experiments, will be useful in this regard.

Laelaps:

I didn't think that you were presenting a straw man of my argument, so don't worry. In fact, you've showed me several things I'll have to revise before I do anything else with my essay, in particular what I mean by a "basic concepts post". I'm afraid that picking that list as my first data point to illustrate the problem I perceived might give people too narrow an idea of what I mean. (One reader suggested that I turn some of my longer posts into a PDF book or something of the sort, and I plan to submit some of them to Open Lab 2008, so I'll definitely have chances to incorporate revisions.)

Seeing all these people interested in the issue is really heartening!

I'm going to go ahead and admit something I don't often admit: I view those with no knowledge of scientific concepts with a certain level of distain. My thinking is this: If you want to learn about a given subject, you can educate yourself about it. That's what I've done (and have been doing, and still do). I never took one class about paleontology (partially because UAA didn't offer any) but I know more about dinosaurs than the average bear. My aim is to educate people, the general public, but I am always wary of doing so. Far too often, scientific explainations are shoehorned into other concepts to fit some alternate way of thinking (uh...ID?) without regard to context or base knowledge of the subject in question.

It drives me insane, and it keeps me from writing about those basic tenants.

Remember when I wrote, a long time ago, this post? Look at the comments section. BusaFan just keeps on truckin', even though his points are invalid and, frankly, he doesn't know what he's talking about. But despite several attempts to correct him, he won't have it. He keeps pulling out flawed arguments.
This sort of thinking makes me not want to educate people, because people don't WANT to be educated. Those who really want to learn, I'm not going to talk at. They'll figure out the difference between Carcharodontosaurid and Abeliosaurid themselves, and they'll get more out of science blogs after that.

I don't want to provide the basis. It's too frustrating. I want to write for the people who survive the initial learning curve.

(end rant)

Remember that if someone's interest is piqued by what he or she reads here, there are science tutorials and science textbooks, even Ken Miller's famous "Dragonlfy book," online.

My province offers online high-school courses (formerly correspondence courses). And Seed Magazine offers the science basics cheat-sheets. Etc. etc.

We don't have to be all things to all people.

Brian, I agree with you to a point. It is important to supply people with 'the basics', but the true infatuation most scientists have with their field comes from their amazement with details many a layman would deem far too intricate for their own comprehension. The bare bones of paleontology for instance (no pun intended) often aren't enough to captivate an audience.
I've worked at the ecology lodge of a nearby summer camp for the past three years. Upon my initial arrival as a staffmember, I discovered that the lodge of my employment had a tradition going called a 'dinosaur self-defense class' which is essentially a parody of traditional boyscout wilderness survival lectures designed to accomodate the various prehistoric beasts which allegedly roam the camp. My predecessor used the program strictly for its humorous angle, relying on out-dated or plainly inaccurate information (eg: swamp-dwelling sauropods and frilled Dilophosaurs)to serve as a 'filler' between jokes. I realized, however, that this program could be rearranged to become an entertaining parody and an educating paleo crash-course simultaneously. I quickly usurped all responsibilities for the event and made it my goal to supply attendees with the latest in paleo-news as well as a 'standup routine'. Every week, referencing various illustrations from books I'd brought such as 'The Dinosauria', 'The Scientific American book of Dinosaurs' and 'The Complete dinosaur', I created a poster with reasonably accurate dinosaurs drawn to scale. Every week, I described which dinosaurs lived in which section of camp, incorporating populations from various deposits. For instance, the sports area became the residence of Morrison formation denizens, the rifle range became a Maastrichtian relic, and the waterfront was filled with various inhabitants of the western interior sea. Each presentation, I did my best to captivate the audience with the science and study of these amazing creatures while still leaving room for jokes (eg: creating 'anectdotes' such as the time a fellow staff member was chased into an outhouse by a gang of dromaeosaurs).
And now, finally, the point of all this: if I were to simply give a college-level lecture to these kids, not only would my attendance rate decrease, but their view of paleontology would suffer for it and they'd never realize that its practitioners are not a gang of condescending, dull people and that their science is not 'old hat' or 'pointless'. It is only when I shook up the program and did my best to entertain as well as educate that I was able to get through to them. There's an old adage, "If a show is boring, nobody will want to watch it". Like it or not, the same is true for science blogs. No matter how enlightening the content, if you want to reach out to lay-people, you'll never do so through technical papers. If you must, by all means include a dictionary somewhere on your webpage. Remember, the point of a scientific paper should be that it is comprehensible to everyone, not merely those already well-read in the field. Furthermore, put out frivolous posts on occasion, they'll do wonders to keep readers. Don't be afraid to poke fun at your subject either; Mark Witton frequently makes statements like 'it also bears thought that the record-holders for the longest skulls of land animals, the elaborately-frilled ceratopsians, are cheating to get their place in the record books by having much of their skull length occupied by accessory frill'. Additionally, the occasional 'everything you need to know about such and such a clade' post mixed in with more complicated subjects (such as Azhdarchid paleobiology and plesiosaur locomotion) would be invaluable in appealing to a wide range of readers...something essential for a blog hoping to communicate science. As I said before, if such a blog is too technical or general, it'll inevitably turn off its target audience, so a mixture is critical. A science blogger striving to defy Blake's thesis must do all of this.

By Mark Mancini (not verified) on 26 Jun 2008 #permalink

First, thanks to all of you for so many thoughtful comments!

mud; You wrote "So what opportunity is there for a person like me, someone with a reasonable scientific awareness - though isn't *in* the sciences anymore, decent communication skills, and a real desire to help the average person get a better grip on the concepts?"

I had similar doubts when I first started writing. It takes time to become established as a science blogger (commenting on other blogs and linking and such will help get your work known) so keep on truckin'. Science blogs are a way to reach people, especially since blogs show up on google. You might not be reaching thousands of people but by writing something really good that'll pop up if someone searches for it you'll be providing someone with good information, at least.

Zach; I get frustrated, too, at times. Some people are virtually impervious to argument but don't take that as being representative of everyone. If we only attracted the people who seek us out then the scientific community would become increasingly closed off and lose relevance among people who don't understand. There are many people who I know who are creationists or ID folks but they are interested in science (when I get to talk to them they often say "Really? I didn't know that before")so I think there is a greater interest out there than we might suppose. Just because there are a lot of creationists doesn't mean that all of them are disinterested in science or are like Ken Ham, and while a few of them can be frustrating it's important to remember that there are plenty of people who will listen.

Mark; That sounds like a lot of fun. I always found science more exciting when it dealt with specifics, specifics that required that I pick up some basics along the way (rather than starting from the basics and working my way up). As you note striking a balance between accuracy and comprehensibility can be difficult but it is possible and a good science blog strikes that balance.

Brian, thanks for the advice. I poked my head in at Pharyngula and the Loom and a few other places. I couldn't help but think I was out-of-synch with everyone else commenting there. Like I kept saying things that would tick people off. (probably has more to do with me than anything) I'll muster the will and keep at it!

Zach: I think I know where you're coming from. But, creationists and others *willfully* ignorant of a subject are one thing.

But I'll bet you the majority of folks out there with no knowledge of scientific issues are ones who don't even know that they don't know and are given absolutely no reason to care. They are a blank slate.

And by viewing them with disdain, assuming that if they don't want to know something then to heck with 'em, is certainly an option. But, as we all know, there's folks who - in order to advance their personal agendas - are more then happy to "educate" the initiated with lies and deception, instilling in these innocents a completely bass-ackwards understanding of science. And they're doing it right now.

"Who's fault is that lack of knowledge?", "how did it get to this point?", etc, are questions that almost don't matter now. They do matter, of course, but there is the immediately pressing truth: The intense absence of understanding is a fact and a danger which must be addressed. Anything, using many paths, that can be done to close the gap and educate people with the broad strokes can only be a good thing.

This is what kinda annoys me when people slam introductory TV shows like on PBS, Science, History chan, etc. The usual criticisms are "they didn't include experiment X" or "I know all this, this is all review." Considering these shows are meant for people who've never heard of this stuff before, if the presentation is engaging AND accurate, why is it bad?

Mud; Good points. In case I haven't flogged it enough on this blog I recommend Chris Toumey's book God's Own Scientists. Much of the book deals with a small group of creationists and what they think, and it is surprisingly different from the usual AiG propaganda we see.

As far as the documentary thing goes I agree that it can be sometimes to easy to get cranky about things. If we're complaining about a certain experiment not being shown or it being "boring" for us who already know things then we don't have much to complain about. What I find more disturbing is that many science programs distort science to some degree, making outlandish claims seem like they are scientifically supported (i.e. the glut of UFO and bigfoot shows that always crop up on cable). Particularly in terms of paleontology documentaries (the ones I know best) there has been a move away from revealing the science and a move towards creating fictional stories using CGI. This can be neat but the science isn't separated from the speculation; it looks nice but there's no real substance to it.

What I tried to get at in the post and in this comment, though, is that we need to be aware of how to communicate with people who might be interested but don't have our background in science. What's elementary to us might will be entirely new to someone else, and rather than complaining about everyone else doing a bad job we should strive to be accurate and accessible as much as possible. Otherwise we're created a relatively closed community and will wonder why we're not invited to all the parties. :)

Is there any indication that the audience for science blogs actually expects to get a science education? Is this what they even want?

As a non-scientist and avid science blog reader, I can tell you that it would never in a million years occur to me to expect a science education from reading science blogs. Rather, what I get out of reading science blogs is rational, clear-headed people writing about things they are passionate about, and sharing that excitement. To put it glibly, I'm not here to learn about science; I'm here to learn about scientists.

As far as using technical terms like carcharodontosaurid: 1) you've got nothing on Darren Naish. That man is crazy for nomenclature. 2) I've got Firefox with a number of search plugins (I recommend Hyperwords) and I was able to pull up half-a-dozen reconstructions, diagrams, and articles on carchadontosauridae before I even got to the end of your sentence. (They are, apparently, big honking therapods.) The Internet is searchable; you don't have to explain everything.

Hp; It seems that you're taking the term "science education" in a narrow form, as if we're actively dispensing packets of scientific knowledge we expect to be digested. Like many have already noted this isn't the motivation for science blogging (at least not for me) but at the same time I think science blogging does provide people with an education in science in that non-scientists might learn something they didn't otherwise know. Putting this in context of reaching out to the public it behooves us to be accurate and accessible at the same time.

You might be here to learn about scientists themselves and engage in the community. That's great. It may be different for someone else who wants to learn more. I know that's how I approached science blogs at first, caring more for the accuracy of the context, and the fact that blogs show up on search engines when someone is looking for information also makes it important to think about who might be reading and how we can best get our point across.

"you've got nothing on Darren Naish"

Thanks, just the ego boost I need... :P

I just picked those terms out of thin air because I know that they may be unfamiliar to people who have never seen them. I could have just as well picked obturator foramen or lesser trochlea or other terms that require some amount of explanation.

I may not have to explain everything (you're right in that providing a link may suffice) but I find that putting things in context helps. If it turns into too big of a digression I usually lop it off, but otherwise I like to have things be relatively self contained so people keep reading along. Rather than assume people would look things up I'd just as soon try to provide a brief summary myself (although I would hope they would be interested enough to look around a bit more!)

clear as mud:

This is what kinda annoys me when people slam introductory TV shows like on PBS, Science, History chan, etc. The usual criticisms are "they didn't include experiment X" or "I know all this, this is all review." Considering these shows are meant for people who've never heard of this stuff before, if the presentation is engaging AND accurate, why is it bad?

Some folks at Caltech did a series called Project MATHEMATICS! which covered middle- and high-school math topics. I heartily recommend it to anyone who wants trigonometry without pain. It's certainly not an extravagant production: still photos, voice-over narration, stock footage from the vault, clips of volunteers around the university, and gracefully minimalist CG. And I've seen MIT math majors watch it and go, "Wow! I'd never thought of teaching it that way!"

That's the kind of response I'm aiming for.

Here are two things you (sci-bloggers, that is) can do:
1. Install a wiki glossary in scienceblogs open only to the bloggers here (for contributions, but to all readers of the blog for reading), where technical and scientific terms can be defined so that you don't have to define them ever again once they're in the glossary!

2. Collaborate with the other bloggers here to write a chapter or partial chapter each in an online intro book so readers of these blogs can jump right to it if they need an intro or a refresher.

There could be a short but pithy book for each of the sciences represented by the bloggers here.

That way, no one person has to do it all, but it does get done.