Where Science Fails
The mandate of science is objectivity; science strives to present a purely observational understanding of the world, unclouded by emotional and societal biases. The scientific method, the heart of scientific research, exists to maintain such an objectivity. Despite this, mistrust of science today is prevalent and pressing (see Trump, Donald; earth, flat). What happened?
For one, due to leaps in our collective understanding, science has become significantly more abstruse and complex. Discoveries in STEM now are rarely intuitive and observable without equipment. We are no longer just observing an apple falling to the ground, nor are we studying finches in the Galapagos Islands. Scientists today are grappling with questions far beyond the scope of most people’s understanding and observational capabilities. Richard Feynman is famous for saying “If you think you understand quantum mechanics, you don’t understand quantum mechanics.” If a Nobel-prize winning quantum physicist admits as much, what hope is there for the rest of us to “get” science?
This attitude is what got us here. Science is often believed to be difficult, and even incomprehensible. Granted, it is not an easy subject to understand, but the current mistrust in science is as much the fault of a disinterested public as that of scientists themselves. When confronted with the challenges of miscommunication, the scientific community has deflected blame. Instead of dismissing, and even mocking, flat-earthers and anti-vaxxers, it is necessary to look inwards. Scientists are exceptional at hypothesizing, testing, and theorizing; we only need to give a cursory glance at the wealth of technology in our daily lives. Where science fails, however, is when it comes to communicating science.
This problem is clear when reading through scientific journals, which are often heavy-handed, verbose and technical. Take the following quote from the October 2014 issue of Transfusion Medical Reviews:
Until recently, atypical hemolytic uremic syndrome (aHUS), conventionally defined in the pediatric literature as a syndrome of the triad of renal failure, microangiopathic hemolytic anemia, and thrombocytopenia without a prodrome of hemorrhagic diarrhea, has received little attention in adult practice because the patients are commonly given the diagnosis of thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura (TTP) or TTP/HUS and treated as TTP with plasma exchange, augmented in refractory cases with rituximab and sometimes even splenectomy.
This sentence — the first of the abstract — is 73 words long. Again, this one sentence is 73 words long. Note that none of the key words (“thrombocytopenia”, “rituximab”, etc.) are defined. The one term that is defined, “atypical hemolytic uremic syndrome”, is done so in an overly verbose way, and due to the placement of its definition, actually detracts from the overall purpose of the sentence. Reading closely, the main purpose of this sentence is to claim that “atypical hemolytic uremic syndrome” is not well-known because it is instead diagnosed as “thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura” in adults. However, due to the nature of the writing (specifically, the additional clauses sprinkled liberally throughout the sentence), this message is not clear, especially for those not-versed in related literature. For an outsider to the world of science, such writing not only disinterests the reader, but also sends a clear message: you are not welcome.
When science is not communicated clearly, it bars its doors to outsiders. This exclusivity fosters mistrust and limits influence; those on the outside often turn to more intuitive, more comprehensible sources for answers (ie. Facebook and the like). Conversely, when science is well-communicated, it encourages informed discourse and evidence-based decision-making on an individual and societal level. Scientific discussion cannot continue to be limited to academics and corporates. We need systematic change in universities and other scientific institutions that places greater emphasis on communication. Science is not and should not be esoteric.
While not everyone needs to be experts, a general respect — which today, is lukewarm at best — for science must exist. The current language of science has very real consequences; people and society suffer when science is marginalized. At worst, lives are lost when critical voices are disregarded and misinformation is widespread (see COVID-19 in USA 2020: masks, hydroxychloroquine, social distancing). We need to promote an understanding of science’s relevance. And that starts with clearly communicating science.
References
Brod, S. (2014, September 4). The importance of science communication. Retrieved March 21, 2021 http://blogs.nature.com/naturejobs/2014/09/04/the-importance-of-science-communication/
Feliú-Mójer, M. I. (2015, February 24). Effective Communication, Better Science. Retrieved from https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/guest-blog/effective-communication-better-science/
Jewett, A. (2020, December 11). How Americans Came to Distrust Science. Retrieved from http://bostonreview.net/science-nature/andrew-jewett-how-americans-came-distrust-science
