john hawks weblog

paleoanthropology, genetics and evolution

public engagement

  • Speak up and matter

    Fri, 2013-06-07 14:55 -- John Hawks

    Current Biology is running a short editorial by Geoffrey North, wishy-washing its way through a non-opinion about the value of blogging in science ("Social Media Likes and Dislikes") [1]. North gives a brief synopsis of the arsenic-eating bacteria fiasco ("An arsenical profile", "Alien biology hype"), which he admits was a victory for the importance of blogging and the open science approach.

    But he can't help worrying about all those people exercising their free speech in science:

    But there is also, I think, a danger here, which lies in the very speed of response, and the way that blogs are essentially “vanity publications” which lack the constraints of more conventional publishing — they are not reviewed, and do not even have to pass the critical eye of any editor. In principle, anyone can write a blog and criticize anything — they do not have to have any specific expertise. And the criticism can be picked up, advertised and amplified, for example by Twitter, by those who feel a post supports their agenda.

    Such criticism can of course be harmful — at the least there tends to be a “no smoke without fire” effect. And once a scientific reputation has been tainted, it can be hard to restore confidence.

    I have little patience for the risk-averse culture of academics.

    The bottom line is: People need to decide if they want to be heard, or if they want to be validated. I have long been an associate editor at PLoS ONE, and once I edited a paper that received a lot of critical commentary. That journal has a policy of open comment threads on papers, so I told disgruntled scientists to please write comments. The comments appear right with the article when anybody reads it, they appear immediately without any delay, and they can form a coherent exchange of views with authors of the article and other skeptical readers.

    Some of the scientists didn't want to submit comments, they wanted to have formal letters brought through the editorial review process. "Why?" I wrote, when you could have your comments up immediately and read by anyone who is reading the research in the first place? If you want to make an impact, I wrote, you should put your ideas up there right now.

    They replied, "How would you feel if someone published something wrong about Neandertals? Wouldn't you want to publish a formal reply?"

    I wrote: "In that case, I would probably get a blog."

    What is the difference between being heard and being validated? It's whether you are contributing to the solution or to the hindsight.


    References

    1. North G. Social Media Likes and Dislikes. Current Biology. 2013;23(11):R461.
  • "Can you help me with my report?"

    Sun, 2013-06-02 13:22 -- John Hawks

    Lately, I've been getting an increasing number of e-mail requests from middle school and high school students, whose teachers have assigned them projects that require them to find experts and ask questions about their chosen research topics. At a certain time of year, I actually get more of these kinds of questions in my e-mail than I get from my actual undergraduate students, the ones who are paying me to answer questions. So it's a lot.

    It turns out I'm far from alone in this trend. Carl Zimmer has also been getting a lot of similar requests from students, and he doesn't have time to answer them, either: "An open letter to science students and science teachers".

    It’s great that you are looking for new ways for your students to do research and learn about science. But having them send emails to scientists and writers has failure stitched into its very concept. Writers are perpetually scrambling to meet deadlines and pitch new stories. Scientists have full plates as well, between their research, their eternal quest for the next grant, and their teaching. To answer a single email from a student–either in the form of a long list of questions or just an open-ended plea for help–takes a lot of time. We may respond to the first few emails we get, but as they keep pouring in, we tend to burn out. And the more popular this becomes as a pedagogical tool, the more emails students will be sending to scientists and writers. And that makes people burn out even faster. It doesn’t seem fair to the students for their grade to depend on whether they get a reply from their email. Even the most polite email may land in the inbox of someone who decided long ago never to respond to such requests.

    I want to reinforce what Carl has written. I really like to answer student questions, and some of my most delightful exchanges have been with talented high school students who genuinely have developed an interest in paleoanthropology. I was one of those high school students once. In the days long before e-mail, I wrote letters to NASA requesting information about their programs and technologies, and used the agency's informative materials in my reports and public speaking. But NASA has paid public outreach specialists. I don't. I give students a lot of credit for having the courage to write and ask original questions, but when I get form letters by e-mail, they have to go unanswered.

    The great thing is that there are better ways for teachers to get experts involved in classrooms. As Carl suggests, many scientists make time for outreach, and anthropologists are more accessible than most. It is usually the best idea to make a relationship with a nearby university or college, where experts might not be exactly on topic but will often be eager to establish a longer-term relationship with your school -- and may even have research opportunities for your students. Many experts, like me, will make themselves available by Skype for remote classroom interactions where many students can benefit.

    And with the upcoming MOOC, we'll have a lot of open access materials for teachers to use in classrooms, including interviews with dozens of experts that focus on just the kinds of questions students are most likely to ask. It's a great time for getting more expert insight into high school and middle school classrooms, both in terms of personal relationships with local experts and in terms of public content!

  • Moving beyond science communication toward engagement

    Tue, 2013-05-28 00:08 -- John Hawks

    PLoS Biology recently published an essay by Brooke Smith and colleagues, focused on "Navigating the rules of scientific engagement" [1]. The authors represent COMPASS, a nonprofit organization dedicated to bringing the knowledge of ocean scientists to greater public awareness and influence in public policy decisions. The essay includes some insightful themes on bringing more effective modes of public engagement into scientific research. The essay is open access and under a Creative Commons license, so I'll excerpt a few passages I think are especially worthwhile.

    To begin with, the essay explains why engagement is a key concept in science communication:

    Science communication was once considered primarily a unidirectional conveyance of information, based on the assumption that if scientists and other experts could convey their knowledge to the public, typically through “data dumps," society's problems could be solved (i.e., if you knew what I know, you would believe what I believe). This perspective, “the science deficit model of the public", is explored in a body of communications literature [6]–[8]. We know it does not work [9].

    Communications is not only about speaking in a clear, compelling, and relevant manner, nor simply about promoting findings. Effective communications is an integrated process of understanding your audience and connecting with that audience on their terms. It requires listening as well as talking.

    As practitioners within the evolving field of science communication, we've also adapted our approach to one that facilitates dialogue and encourages engagement. We've learned that if scientists want to have impact beyond their disciplines and in the world, communications must be central to their enterprise [10]. This is why academia should reconsider its measures of success and make communication training an integral part of graduate-level education.

    The "deficit model" is the naive assumption made by many scientists, who may believe that the reason why the public misunderstands scientific concepts is that people just haven't spent time learning the correct explanations. Of course, the public is heterogeneous and some people will be receptive to a simple explication of a scientific finding or principle. But in well-entrenched areas of misunderstanding of science, the deficit model is rarely an accurate picture. Talking "at" people is very likely to increase their resistance to scientific reasoning, precisely because it shows the scientists themselves to be unreasonable. As the essay discusses, listening and responding sincerely to an audience's concerns and questions are fundamental parts of engagement.

    The essay approaches the issue of "science by press release" with a heterodox viewpoint: Getting broad public attention for a controversial finding may in some cases help scientific progress, if the researchers are prepared to make productive use of critical commentary.

    We remind the authors that making a splash in the mainstream press tends to incite controversy, whether over the science itself, the communication of it, or both. Backlash is never pleasant, but it is not necessarily negative [5]. In our experience, when the science is robust, and authors are committed to the questions instead of the results, criticism can catalyze productive collaborations and push the field forward.

    The authors include an example along these lines, in which a controversial research result led to the creation of a collaborative group that broadened the scope and public application of the line of research.

    This is a valuable insight:

    Scientists who can clearly explain a research finding and why it matters are poised to succeed not just in outreach, but also in grant writing, interdisciplinary collaborations, teaching, and other essential roles. Being a good communicator is not a tradeoff; it is a key component of scientific success. Like most other elements of a strong academic career, it's a skill that may be rooted in natural talent and personal interest, but can always be further developed by training, preparation, and practice.

    We work on making our students good communicators in many ways -- from encouraging them to present their research to the public, school groups, at professional meetings, and in the university. Part of this strategy of multilevel communication is to enable students to discuss their work effectively at different lengths -- from the "elevator talk" to a full research presentation.

    But the COMPASS essay suggests to me that "listening" skills also need to be part of our training. I have learned over time the value of having many different ways to describe my research, so that I can deploy the most relevant and topical information to the person I'm meeting. Being able to do quickly switch contexts requires an ability to ask questions of other people, out of genuine interest in what they bring to the conversation. That is engagement.


    References

    Synopsis: 
    Reading an essay on the need for scientists to listen and engage with a diverse public
  • Education, not television, for science participation

    Sun, 2013-02-17 19:20 -- John Hawks

    Alice Bell comments on the non-interactivity of the most common means of science popularization: "Science on TV: it's not dumb, but it could be smarter".

    I especially worry that science is often rendered as something to be simply consumed by the public. If we're using the metaphor of scientific "literacy", it's "read-only" research. Retelling science for explanatory or entertainment purposes might give us a great picture of what the scientific idea looks like but often removes a lot about how the scientists got to these conclusions. It doesn't show the workings of science or share the more slippery science-in-the-making, meaning it's harder to critique or get involved with (or simply enjoy these processes as entertaining and educational in themselves). I'd like to see an attempt to share the means of production of science, not just sell its products.

    I note that actually participating in science is what we do in education. Transforming a television program from a passive experience to an active one would help transform its nature from informative to educational.

    We can equally come at this from the other side. Why not take education and make broader use of storytelling, filming, and multimedia resources? Frozen Planet and other BBC productions have done much to show how technological progress in filming and broadcasting have enabled cinema-like qualities in long-form TV documentaries. These technologies are also transforming the classroom. We won't have cinema-quality, highly-edited classroom productions, not without a radical reallocation of effort and resources on the part of faculty. But we can produce material that would have been broadcast quality several years ago, and we can make it available anywhere the internet goes.

    The trick is maintaining, or even increasing, the level of interactivity as we engage larger numbers of students online, potentially across multiple institutions and the public. I have some ideas for that, some of which will be rolling out over the next few months.

  • Pseudoscience and TED

    Sat, 2012-12-08 11:08 -- John Hawks

    Phil Plait discusses ("TEDx Talks: Some Ideas Are Not Worth Spreading") a public letter from the TED organizers to their derivative TEDx community: "A letter to the TEDx community on TEDx and bad science". I have criticized TED in the past for promoting Elaine Morgan, who gave a TED talk on her ideas regarding the aquatic origins of human adaptations. Although TED provides a platform that has enabled some scientists to bring valuable work to a broader public, many TED talks have promoted ideas that have either quickly proven wrong (bacteria making DNA from arsenic) or are dismissed for good reasons.

    Plait shares his personal experience and gives a good accounting of how skeptics should approach untested ideas:

    GOOD: “It makes claims that can be tested and verified,” and “It is backed up by experiments that have generated enough data to convince other experts of its legitimacy.”

    BAD: “Has failed to convince many mainstream scientists of its truth,” and “Comes from overconfident fringe experts.”

    These are then followed by a series of “red flag” topics and behaviors that, again, should serve as a warning that what the speaker is saying may not be legit: They are selling a product, they claim to have privileged knowledge, they demand TEDx presents “both sides of an issue.” (That last one is a biggie: In many cases there aren’t two sides unless one side is “reality” and the other is “nonsense.”)

    I don't know if TED will be able to resist the allure of pseudoscientific pitch artists in the future. After all, it is not a "science" conference, and many of the "ideas worth spreading" seem uniquely to appeal to a certain group of woo believers. But this letter is helpful and gives the hope that they will be careful in the talks outside their main conference that they choose to promote more broadly. Now, if only we could get the History Channel to adopt a similar attitude...

  • "Hair-pullingly frustrating to read"

    Sun, 2012-07-22 16:44 -- John Hawks

    Greg Downey and Daniel Lende ponder the rhetorical evils of NY Times columnist Thomas Friedman and why anthropologists should be better writers: "Thomas Friedman’s Lessons for Anthropologists".

    The basic dictum of writing – Show, Don’t Tell – is a good illustration here. Writing professors exhort their students to illustrate action and ideas and social situations and so forth. Rather than telling the reader what is happening, they show the reader. But anthropologists often don’t follow that maxim. It’s tell, tell, tell, as if that will really show the reader the truth of the world. In the meantime, the reader’s eyes are glazing over, and they start wishing for something like Friedman. And that’s what they find – Friedman. Because the anthropologists aren’t delivering in this space.

    I have heard similar complaints from all different kinds of academics. The "public intellectual" space is choked with airheads who don't understand science and technology. But I would sound like an airhead if I argued that people would better understand complexity if only scientists could write more like Thomas Friedman. The problem isn't that the 800-word NY Times column lacks content. That's foreordained. The problem is that longer-form pieces, the 4000-word New Yorker variety, have become the province of formula writers like Malcolm Gladwell. Long-form gives space to actually explore a complex idea, but mainstream media has blinkified the format. For now.

    In an aside, I appreciated this passage:

    In the end, anthropology has some basic points – culture, power, evolution, variation. So it can employ the same kind of “well, there are two possible explanations” approach that Friedman uses.

    I've been thinking a lot about these basics this summer, as I was teaching our majors course in anthropological theory. I shaped my course around five "big ideas" of cultural anthropology, and it's heartening to see four of them here. My experience teaching the course has become the core of a manuscript I am writing on teaching cultural anthropology from the biological perspective. I'll share that article here when I have brought it closer to completion.

  • What's wrong with anthropology?

    Wed, 2011-10-05 23:31 -- John Hawks

    Anthropologies is an online project organized by Ryan Anderson that brings together voices reflecting the state of the discipline today. The current volume has the theme, "Anthropology with purpose". My essay has riled a lot of people already: "What's wrong with anthropology?"

    Academic anthropology in America is complacent, at a time when budgets are falling, academic departments are being closed, and a larger and larger number of people have become skeptical of the value of science. It's time for an intervention.

    We must change not only for practical reasons but for moral reasons as well. Anthropological research depends on the cooperation, interest and goodwill of many communities, both today and in the past. People do not donate their cooperation lightly. Wherever anthropologists do their work, they are lucky to have the help of these communities of people. Whether biological, archaeological, or cultural, our research relies on unique resources that in many cases cannot be duplicated. We bring these things to light, for the broader appreciation and education of the rest of humanity.

    Having our work read by twenty people is an not acceptable communication strategy. Failure to share results broadly betrays the cooperation of the communities who enable our research.

    I argue for three strategies:

    1. Embrace new forms: use technology to change the way we publish our work.

    2. Defend good science, acknowledging anthropology's unique place.

    3. Empower our students: leverage the incredible value of fieldwork by requiring translational work from the beginning.

    A section from this last:

    Making our students more competitive for non-academic careers does not mean turning our back on what we already do well. Our students learn how to think in ways that other students don't. Fieldwork gives our students tremendous advantages that most industry professionals can only look on with envy.

    We should reinforce those essential experiences and make them greater opportunities for engagement. Why are anthropology students going into the field without contracts to write weekly or monthly about their work? Why do our professional associations do not support themselves by becoming clearinghouses for ongoing field reports? Where are the workshops and press kits that will enable our young researchers to build ties to media and communities outside their institutions?

    I've served up some real red meat in this one, and I've been so heartened to see the growing comment stream. A sample:

    I did an honors thesis on applying an empirical methodology to an ethnographically documented phenomenon that won a university-wide social science prize. I was the kind of promising student which anthropology as a field should be trying to retain – someone with ideas, creativity, and able to produce original research early. While an undergrad, I had every intention of continuing on in anthropology. However, after graduating and sitting down to figure out where to apply to graduate school, I discovered that getting a degree in cognitive anthropology would be a pretty horrible life plan if I wanted to have a career based on my graduate training ... From what is now an outsider perspective, the AAA ditching science in its mission statement suggests to me that I made the right decision. Anthropology has already lost intellectual territory to other disciplines, seemingly without a fight.

    Some great names have already chimed in, and I hope that many more will take the opportunity to join the conversation.

    Synopsis: 
    I link to my essay in Anthropologies, which calls for greater engagement by anthropologists.
  • Engaging with the public

    Wed, 2011-04-13 20:30 -- John Hawks

    Alice Bell raises an essential question: "What’s this public ‘engagement’ with science thing then?"

    I’m similarly sceptical about lumping this whole ‘science’ thing together (and in particular, lumping together ‘scientists). Science is big and complex, its ideas about itself vary and change over time. Maybe it should be pluralised to sciences, like publics. Or again, maybe we could just talk about specific people, ideas and approaches. Leave loose talk about ‘science’ to philosophers and advertising executives, and instead focus on sharing what you have particular expertise in, be honest about what you don’t know and think about all the new things you might learn from engaging in a bit of broader discussion about your work.

    Like Bell, I favor much more specificity about the "public" we're addressing. I like "people" much better than "publics" plural, because the effective point of contact is the individual, not the committee. People have many different goals in their interactions and experiences with science. When I bring Sophie to the local planetarium for a show, neither she nor I is the "public". We are people with a pre-existing relationship, looking to deepen that by engaging with the particulars of a science both of us have some knowledge about. Other people have their own goals and experiences -- many of them intent on avoiding science. No form of engagement can bring together all these people without addressing their distinct goals and interests.

    On that note, I very much like Bell's final suggestions -- particularly being receptive to serendipity:

    Don’t be silly about ‘the public’. Remember: knowing your audience and targeting specific groups can be very powerful, but so can the serendipitous connections made by packaging your work as accessibly as audience as possible.

    ...

    There is nothing wrong with a bit of ambition, but be realistic. This means keeping in mind the limitations of your project, including pragmatic concerns like money, time, your professional image and the weather. You are unlikely to change the world. You may not even change any minds, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile, you may well have helped move towards a bit of world/ mind changing. These things take time. None of them are easy.

    I would add one thing. This final point may sound a little nihilistic. I mean, if you can't change minds, why even bother?

    But at an early career stage, very few people have the moxie to change minds. The point of engagement is to become a better scientist. Like all things, it takes practice to master. It may take many failed efforts to arrive at success.

    You are only a reed. But you are a thinking reed.

  • Madison Science Pub profiled

    Sun, 2011-03-06 12:34 -- John Hawks

    Ron Seely of the Wisconsin State Journal has a nice story in today's (Sunday) edition about the Madison Science Pub ("Science Pub organizer taps scientists for informal gatherings mixed with beers"). Now midway through its second year, this event brings a good crowd every month to the salon-like atmosphere of the upstairs of Brocach Irish Pub, right on on Capital Square in Madison. I make an appearance in the article as the guest of the very first event two years ago, and the first repeat guest.

    It’s not exactly a scientific formula but Skip Evans has discovered that if you combine a scientist, good beer, and a crowd of curious people, you come up with a very interesting Sunday afternoon.

    Oh, I think that's the most likely scientific formula of all! Organizer Skip Evans really deserves recognition for keeping this event going so strong.

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Neandertals

For years, I've worked on their bones. Now I'm working on their genes. Read more about the science studying these ancient people.

Denisova

From a finger bone of an ancient human came the record of a completely unexpected population. My lab is working on the science of the Denisova genome.

Acceleration

The advent of agriculture caused natural selection to speed up greatly in humans. We're uncovering some of the ways that populations have rapidly changed during the last 10,000 years.

Malapa

Just outside Johannesburg, the Malapa site is producing some of the most exciting finds in human evolution. This site is the headquarters of the Malapa Soft Tissue Project.