Friday, 13 July 2012
Heard the row about ‘explainers’ versus ‘exposers’ or between the ‘boat-rockers’ versus the ‘cheerleaders for science’? No? My goodness guys where have you been? At the recent UK Conference of Science Journalists this apparent divide in science reporting became the main talking point of the day. Roughly translated the debate is between those who think that too high a proportion of science journalism is dedicated to rewriting the daily diet of press releases from journals or universities announcing wonderful new discoveries in science. These journalists write well and skillfully explain complicated science to a mass audience but what they do not do, according to their critics, is ‘expose’ wrong doing in science, interrogate the scientific claims they are reporting or rock the cosy world of the scientific establishment by asking hard questions.
In the Meet the Editors session I chaired, Ian Katz, deputy editor of the Guardian, conceded that there was perhaps less ‘boat-rocking’ from his science reporters than other specialists and while I missed the session on scientific fraud I gather that chief boat rocker Peter Aldhous from New Scientist added his voice to those lamenting the lack of this kind of reporting.
The day finished with a plenary session focused almost exclusively on the same issue. Evan Davis, presenter of the Today programme, challenged the notion that journalism that ‘explains’ is the poor cousin of journalism that ‘exposes’. Davis argued that journalists should do the kind of journalism they are good at and pointed out that much that passes for investigative journalism is not very good. According to Davis even the best exposés probably reveal less than we sometimes suggest and he quoted a psychologist’s observation that the MP’s expenses scandal effectively demonstrated that, faced with a deeply flawed and easily corruptible expenses system, our politicians behaved like human beings – some easily corrupted, others less so and some positively angelic. Davis summed up by saying that as long as ‘explainers’ avoid ‘group think’ this kind of journalism can be as important as any other and there is a danger that, if the ‘exposers’ take over the asylum, the quality of discourse could suffer and we might end up perversely interrogating and scrutinising the very people who actually do stuff and make things happen.
But Davis was challenged by the panelists with more experience of the science camp. William Cullerne Bown, founder of Research Fortnight argued that science journalism is failing by ignoring the stories about policy, funding and structure that are bread and butter to those reporting the worlds of finance and politics. Connie St Louis from City University, the main organiser of the conference, accepted Davis’ general points about the need for a ‘mixed economy’ of explaining and exposing but suggested that the balance has gone badly wrong in science journalism, leaving us overrun by science communicators, science writers and science PR.
The session was a great way to end a stimulating and fascinating day. But I felt uneasy. Boring as it is to be the one to say ‘it’s more complicated than that,’ I could not get that thought out of my head. The idea that science reporting neatly breaks down into explaining or exposing just does not ring true for me.
I have never done the maths but I suspect that the amount of time the SMC spends working on the ‘explaining’ sort of stories is minimal. Indeed we look on enviously at beautiful stories like the one last week where scientists at the MRC’s new research Centre at Imperial College London used scanning equipment for the first time to watch an infection unfurl in real time in an animal; Great and important science beautifully explained by great press officers and working with great science journalists.
But that kind of story rarely, if ever, ends up at our door. For the SMC to get stuck-in a science story needs to be messy, complicated, open to interpretation and ripe for misreporting. But where do these stories fit into the explainers versus exposers narrative? What was Fukushima? The story that changed almost every hour, that unfolded in a total information vacuum from Japan, that was seized on by pro- and anti-nuclear campaigners to drive their messages home, that was scary, complicated, technical and hard to report. And what about climategate, swine flu, volcanic ash, the sacking of David Nutt? True, lots of these also involve a degree of explaining the science, but the driving force behind none of them was purely explanation and there was hardly a press release in sight.
In fact Ian Katz could well have pointed with some pride to the Guardians’ coverage of climategate as ‘boat–rocking’. In their series of lengthy articles by seasoned environment reporter Fred Pearce, the Guardian peeled off layer after layer of the climate wars. If journalism is intended to afflict the comfortable it certainly did the job and many climate scientists have never forgiven the Guardian for rocking that particular boat with such vigour. And, more generally, whatever you thought of the media coverage of climategate you could not suggest that science journalists acted as ‘cheerleaders’ for science or spent their days rewriting press releases.
And there is another aspect of these debates that unsettles me. For the critics of ‘explaining’ journalism, it is often enough to summon the words ‘science PR’ to prove their point and rest their case. The picture presented is of busy journalists with little time to do any more than rewrite material provided by the growing army of science PR officers working at universities, funding agencies and scientific journals. Of course there is a strong element of truth in this scenario and (in its midst) you can find plenty of examples of science PR = science churn = journalists as mouthpiece. But it’s really not the full story and lots of the people in this chain are not playing the role assigned to them in this over simplistic narrative.
Bear with me while I muddy the waters from my own daily experience. How about the science journalists who regularly call the SMC to report terrible press releases and ask our help to find experts who will expose the weaknesses and caveats of the study? Not much churning going on there. And what of the science press officers working on stories like climategate, swine flu, Fukushima, animal research and the sacking of David Nutt? They were not churning out happy clappy PR, they were grappling with messy complicated stories, often trying to persuade reluctant scientists to get out there and engage, or fighting against more senior conservative forces inside their organisations.
I’m quite sure that the SMC is seen as a classic example of ‘science PR’ by some of those who are critical of that concept. But does that pejorative label really apply to what we actually do?
How about the story(£) we brought to the media this year about the intimidation of UK airlines and ferry companies out of transporting animals for research - a story that some in government and the scientific community had tried to keep quiet for seven years. Or the story we brought to the Today programme that revealed a group of CFS researchers were planning to abandon the field after a campaign of intimidation by activists – something that they had been too scared to talk about publicly before they met us. Or the fact that, along with our friends at UEA press office, we managed to get Phil Jones into the SMC to face journalists less than 24 hours after the latest stolen emails were dumped onto a website? Or the story we broke with our sister organisations around the world about the serious error about the extent of glacier retreat found in the internationally respected Times Atlas? I could go on and on. Is this science PR? And what of the fact that about 80% of SMC press releases are essentially scientists and statisticians pointing out that studies that might look like a cure, cause or breakthrough are way too preliminary to be reported under any such headline. Does ‘science PR’ include punching the air when we get another email from a journalist saying they have decided not to cover a study after hearing about the caveats from the SMC?
I think we need all kinds of science journalism - great explaining reporting, as we saw on Higgs last week, and much more investigative reporting that unearths fraud and holds the science establishment to account. But we also need a stock of science, media and environment reporters who can report the messy politicised controversies that engulf science just as much as any other issue. It would be ironic if those of us who care about science journalism enough to debate it and write about it ended up putting science stories back into a narrow ghetto of our own making at the very time when others seem to have accepted that science stories are actually just stories. By appointing science editors for the first time to sit alongside politics, economics etc. the management at the BBC and Channel 4 seem to have a better grasp of the breadth of science stories than we do.
For us and many other science press offices the biggest stories this year have been the row over the possible censorship of H5N1 papers, the extraordinary open letter on GM from Rothamsted, shale gas and the row over open access publishing. These are messy complicated stories that don’t neatly fit the ‘explaining’, ‘exposing’ or ‘science PR’ camps. Perhaps this explains why these kinds of stories are so rarely even referenced in some of the debates about bad science. It’s time we included them.
Posted by Fiona Fox at 11:32
Monday, 9 July 2012
The news that the Government had moved to ban all research on human-animal hybrid embryos came late in December 2006, just as Parliament had closed for Christmas and the media started to fill up with festive fluff. While I knew anger was growing in the scientific community I called all the scientists involved and asked them to hold fire until we could coordinate a press conference in the New Year. My argument was that the angry response from the scientists would lose potency if it trickled out through individual journalists in the pre-Christmas period when policy makers are away.
The scientists were uncomfortable, many having already agreed to interviews with science reporters with whom they had good relations. The science reporters were furious when their calls were met with a refusal to speak and one yelled down the phone accusing the Science Media Centre of getting way too big for its boots and 'manipulating' the media. But despite the pressures we held our ground and the first big media story that hit MPs on their return to Westminster was the angry backlash from the UK's leading stem cell scientists, splashed on the front page of the Times and dominating the Today programme.
That press briefing was the start of a year of well managed, skillful lobbying and media work by the scientific community which is praised by former Times science editor Mark Henderson in his new book, 'The Geek Manifesto - Why Science Matters'. 'Scientists were on the front foot and enlisted the media's assistance to get the result they wanted', he writes. 'The steady diet of embarrassing newspaper stories that they engineered was an important factor in the Government's U-Turn'.
Mark cites the campaign around the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Bill (as it was) as one of many examples of a new found confidence among 'geeks' to seize the agenda and argue for evidence based policy. His book is explicitly a call to arms and sets out to 'explore how geeks can turn our irrepressible energy and analytical rigour into a movement with real clout'.
I remember meeting Mark ten years ago. The consensus amongst his colleagues was that Mark, a history graduate who had been asked to cover science by chance, would soon be offered a posting in Westminster or Washington. In fact Mark stayed covering science, was soon promoted to science editor, a role in which he flourished.
In his 13 years in the job he got as many front pages as many political editors - including several in fertility and stem cell science - areas familiar to BioNews readers. The fact that an ambitious young Times reporter could thrive on the science beat supports the key message of Mark's book – that science is on the march, no longer seen as an 'and finally' subject, and firmly out of the ghetto and in the mainstream of national debate.
My own conversion to science mirrors that of Mark and I especially enjoyed the early chapters of this book which pay homage to the scientific method and include great quotes from Carl Sagan, Richard Feynman and other luminaries. 'Science' writes Mark 'is anti-authoritarian; anybody can contribute, and anybody can be wrong [...] it is self-correcting, because of the importance it places on trying to prove the most elegant ideas wrong. It is comfortable with uncertainty, knowing that even at its best answers will simply be the better approximations of the truth'.
Mark seems to lurch from glass half full to glass half empty throughout the book. He is encouraged by the growing popularity of 'geeks' like Simon Singh, Brian Cox and Ben Goldacre and of the success of campaigns like that around the HFE Bill. But he also despairs of politicians who are either impervious to science or pervert it to suit their ideological preferences; 'many of them would prefer it if the policies they implement were never evaluated at all'.
There are certainly contentious bits in the book and it won't just be the anti-science brigade that Mark upsets. His belief that a scientific approach to problem solving is applicable to a 'surprisingly wide range of political issues' extends into areas like education and the law. My husband, a teacher, will doubtless be sceptical about another geek suggesting that neuroscience will ultimately offer insights to improve teaching.
Nor I suspect will the book go down well with critics of 'scientism', a term back in common currency for those who claim that science is the best way of explaining and understanding the world's problems. They have a point – Mark does little to hide his own preference for a world where policies on issues like nuclear power and genetically modified crops are based on evidence rather than ideology.
But Mark's critics should not skip the section called 'limits to evidence' in which he states clearly that ministers are entitled to take all sorts of factors into account, 'when they weigh up how to act they are right to think about the expectations and aspirations of the people who voted for them'.
So Mark, like Churchill, is for 'science on tap but not on top'. What he really objects to is politicians who pretend to base decisions on science rather than admitting that they have over-ridden science because of strongly held political views. He gives the example of former Home Secretary Jacqui Smith's reclassification of cannabis as a class 'B' controlled substance.
It follows from Mark's arguments that Smith was perfectly entitled to make a decision to criminalise cannabis based on the views of the police, Daily Mail editorials and voters. However she was not entitled to dismiss the evidence of her own scientific advisers and shop round for other science that suited her political stance.
Mark perhaps attributes a little too much of the rising popularity of science to its celebrity wing and geek bloggers when equal praise should go to the less high profile work of thousands of research scientists who have decided over the past 15 years that engaging the media and the public is part of their role (the many skillful press officers who support them in this are similarly overdue praise). But there is much to like about this book. Mark's skill as a journalist shines through and he makes many of his points through compelling stories of 'geek power' including the Simon Singh libel case, the grassroots campaign to maintain the science budget and the creative activities of opponents of homeopathy. That science now occupies a prominent place in society is surely proved by the fact that a book called 'The Geek Manifesto' is being taken so seriously by so many.
Buy The Geek Manifesto: Why Science Matters from Amazon UK or Amazon USA.
Posted by Fiona Fox at 15:57