I know a lot of science communicators. Some with popular books, podcasts and massive followings, and some who focus more locally or specifically. I myself am currently wrapping up a postdoc on science education in schools. This is one way of saying that I have seen a lot of criticism #SciCommers get. And the criticism, and the expectations they are meant to meet, is bullshit.
Too many science communicators, it is believed, do not target who they are "meant" to target. They are meant to target children, the dis-interested and American Republicans. Speaking to each other is not a valued part of the #SciComm expectation.
But there is a problem when we rely on publication alone to speak with each other. Clear, jargon-free communication, camaraderie and warmth is at the heart of interdisciplinary research, and is also essential for young scientists at varying levels, who are frequently neglected.
Communication among experts is essential to transdisciplinary research, and the building and fostering of healthy scientific communities. (Image by Maja Milojevic; @plavko90 on Instagram).
What is valued
My research on evolution education in schools is seen as important. Partly this is because it is dope (nobody's accused me of being humble). But partly this is because there is perceived value (from funders, governments and other scientists) that the primary target group for science communication should be the youth. We see this all the time in science communication research, and we see it within departments and conferences when we are criticised for communicating more with each other than a vaguely defined "public".
The followers of many #SciCommers on Twitter, for instance, are not primarily composed of "lay people", or "school children", or "religious people". Instead, often scientists (of varying levels) follow other scientists. I have even heard criticism about one science communicator which went along the lines of: "They are only really followed by people who are already interested in science."
What a ludicrous expectation of them that their primary roles are as evangelists and missionaries.
What is more ludicrous is that, while we are apparently meant to convert creationists, and change the dreams of children from ballet dancers to physicists, that many young people already IN the sciences are neglected and forgotten.
Who we neglect
Many young scientists are lost on their research journeys... little supported financially... or not taken seriously in their concerns of racism (systematic, subtle or overt) or sexism. Many LGBT+ individuals do not discuss their lives with their colleagues, who otherwise constantly talk about their hetero relationships.
Many graduate students have compromised their mental well-being during their research journey. This is exacerbated when they are scared to ask questions, feeling inadequate, and afraid to be vulnerable in a harsh discipline. Many are expected to write research projects with little guidance. Some feel targeted, unsupported or alienated within their departments.
The wonderful thing about Twitter, and the many excellent #SciCommers on that platform, is that it provides the community many young and/or marginalized scientists crave. This sense of community is not provided to them in their departments or institutions.
These people are building community, offering support, and stimulating transdisciplinary relationships. And yet, they are little valued.
This needs to change.
Outreach and inreach are two sides to the same coin
"Outreach" (communication to non-experts) is seen as valuable and crucial to science and the world. And it is.
We are in a pandemic where people's trust in scientists, and their understanding of science as a process, is critical. We rely on the public to understand that we now know that wearing masks is important in saving lives, even though a few months ago this was little understood. We ask them to be patient with us while we trial vaccines and analyse and learn about symptoms and the broader social, biological and economic effects. We ask them to volunteer as guinea pigs in our (highly essential) research. And we owe it to them to be honest, communicative and clear.
But here is the thing.
When we neglect our own communities, during a time of funding cuts, and political and economic uncertainty, we lose important connections to the public. We lose good scientists. And we lose those who have risked so much to be a part of this process.
By neglecting warmth and inter-personal connection inside our own communities, how do we expect to reach the public? How do we expect to stimulate trust?
How many scientists have even heard of the word "inreach"? How many have put this word in their reports to funders and institutions? How many, if they did, would benefit financially or in their careers from using this word? Inreachers are highly undervalued.
My copy-paste Wiki definition of Inreach on a shitty conceptual background: this is why we work with artists.
Final thoughts
Pouring over the responses I get from the school children who participate in my workshop, there is an overwhelming interest in entering my discipline. Some say that it has made them consider changing their intended careers. And reading these responses should fill me with joy.
But, instead, it is bittersweet.
If they do enter the sciences, who will be there for them? Who will help them during their research journey? Who will build a safe, welcoming community for them?
And if someone does, will they be valued?
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