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Graduates, teachers, distinguished alumni, parents and other bi-pedal hominids, welcome.
And thank you, Dean Elde for the opportunity to address your graduating class here at the
College of Biological Sciences. It was not only an honor to be asked; frankly it came
as a complete surprise. Why? I am not a scientist. Yet I've been asked
to talk about the importance of scientists being able to communicate in the real world.
Or as I like to call it, English as a second language for scientists. We live in a time
when, thanks to the internet, information of all kinds is more available, more democratized
than ever. So it becomes more critical than ever that people are able to understand that
information. Yet, somehow the language of certain disciplines - science, technology,
medicine - has become more dense and specialized, not less.
So, as a test, I want to begin with a passage written by a well published, world-famous
doctor. He once wrote: "You've presented with cerebrum within your
cephalic." "Your pedicles are in your Miu Mius."
"You are bi-pedal hominids with multi-lateral capabilities."
"You are monomorphic. And you possess the neural mechanism for higher consciousness."
"Your encoded cognitive dexterity uniquely enables omni-directional activation."
DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHAT I JUST SAID? OR WHERE IT CAME FROM?
The reason you may not recognize the passage is because I translated these lines into the
language of biology and physics. And in that language they're utterly meaningless
to anyone outside biology or physics. And therein lies the basis of my talk, and your
challenge. Now, you might be asking, who am I, a public
radio talk show host, to tell you - freshly minted biologists - that scientists need to
learn to communicate in English? Well, let me start with my science credentials - or
lack thereof. In college, at St. Bonaventure, in the bucolic
middle-of-nowhere Valley, New York, I was studying English literature and broadcast
journalism. I was not a science ***. In fact—it scared me a little bit. But there was a science
requirement when I attended. So, I waded deep into the course catalog to
find an offering that would satisfy that science requirement, while avoiding any "real" science.
And I finally found it: PHSC 108 Physics for Poets. That's right. The course title was,
Physics for Poets. Ahh, finally, I thought: not hard, indecipherable science, but something
enlightened, a course that perhaps combined the scientific rigor of the lab with the aesthetic
sensibilities of the bard. But I wanted to be absolutely sure the course
was right for me. So I read the course description: This course is intended for non-science majors.
The course requires no college mathematics as a prerequisite. It investigates the basic
theories of modern physics after a brief discussion of those classical ideas that are relevant.
UH-OH. Historical, philosophical and social implications of developments in modern physics
are also considered. NO WAY! This course will not satisfy the natural science requirement
for science majors. WHO'S A SCIENCE MAJOR? Sounded OK, right? But, all I could think
was, "Hey, where's the poetry?" What about the iambic pentameter in protozoa, and free
verse in the movement of free radicals? But there was no poetry. Still, I took it, and
I passed it. Guess what? They still offer the course!
Fast forward to my professional career, where, despite thinking I was fleeing from all things
science . . . today I embrace it totally in my radio program and the books I read and
share with my audience. I've been fortunate enough to interview not just top scientists
in myriad fields, but top scientists who possess the unique ability to communicate the complexities
and essence of their disciplines with passion and language that connect with lay-people,
civilians, normal people, you know, the "lab-coat challenged".
Who are these people? To name just a few . . . - Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Head of the Planetary
Society and Hayden Planetarium and Rose Center for Earth and Space.
- Lisa Randall, Harvard, theoretical physicist and a student of particle physics and cosmology.
- Your own Marlene Zuk, Evolutionary biologist. Her Wikipedia biographical sketch says, "Her
studies involve *** selection and parasites." Back in school when I was dating I, too had
hands-on experience with *** selection and parasites.
- Brian Greene, Theoretical Physicist, string theorist & founder of The World Science Festival..where
I'm headed next week. - And, Temple Grandin, Doctor of Animal Sciences
and professor at University of Colorado, and autism activist. 1000 people showed up at
the Fitzgerald Theater last week to see us talk about autism and the brain.
When I have these guests on my show, it's my job to make sure they're communicating
in a way that connects with my audience. I've actually leaned over to scientists during
a break and said, "I can hear radios turning off across the state! Drop the lingo."
So, what are the barriers you face in communicating? First, I get that you've spent the past four
years steeping yourselves in the scientific world, with all its wonders, discoveries,
mysteries, and yes, language. It's laid the foundation of a serious career path. But what
it's also done is create barriers to communicating with regular people about what you do, in
ways they can grasp. The first barrier is something I like to call,
"The "So" Explanation." When I started interviewing scientists, I
noticed an odd thing. I'd ask a question and they would inevitably begin by saying, " So
. . . . ." What is that "So"? Well, often that's the scientist slamming
on the breaks of a conversation and backing it way up so they can first explain some basic
concept that the questioner might need to know first before they can understand the
real, scientific answer. While the scientist may think they're shedding light, the "so"
almost always comes off as condescending. Belittling. Rude. Like this:
"So . . .(sigh) before I answer that, you do understand that your taste buds are on
the back of your tongue, right?" Or, "So . . . (sigh) before entering the stomach for digestion,
the food you eat must pass through your teeth where your incisors tear it up and your molars
grind it down. Are you with me?" Take heart, though. The "So Explanation" is
not unique to biologists, or scientists in general. Doctors do it. Lawyers have been
known to do it. Even the Geek Squad dude that shows up at my house to fix something—does
it. Then...there's the barrier of "What" you're
doing, which is almost always communicated in scientific language. Of course. That makes
sense. It's when you get to the "why" you're doing it, that we mere humans get lost. But
honestly, that's really what we care about. How you got there? More interesting to you.
What "there" means? Now we're listening. It's like going to your dentist. Your dentist may
say, "I'm going to perform a maxillary extraction of the 3rd upper bicuspid". That's the "what".
But we want to know, why. Then there's the barrier called: Professional
Pride. I'll get that a bit later. Think of cell communication. Cell communication
is about cells using a common language so that relationships can happen. Information
can be shared. So, for example, cells can talk to other cells.
- In researching this I read that: "Cells communicate by sending and receiving signals.
Signals may come from the environment, or they may come from other cells." Sounds a
lot like human communications. I even learned that there are 4 Types of Cell
Communication: 1. Direct contact. 2. Paracrine Signaling. 3. Endocrine signaling. 4. Synaptic
signaling. - Ironically, there are 4 types of human communication:
verbal, body, facial, written. Coincidence? I think not.
7. How important is the ability of scientists to communicate in human language?
The Journalism School at Stony Brook University has an entire center devoted to it. It's called,
The Center for Communicating Science. The actor, Alan Alda actually helped found this
center. Established in 2009, the center's mission
states: The Center for Communicating Science works to enhance understanding of science
by helping train the next generation of scientists and health professionals to communicate more
effectively with the public, public officials, the media, and others outside their own discipline.
We believe that scientists have a responsibility to share the meaning and implications of their
work, and that an engaged public encourages sound public decision-making. In addition,
the ability to communicate directly and vividly can enhance scientists' career prospects,
helping them secure funding, collaborate across disciplines, compete for positions, and serve
as effective teachers. If you thought Poetry of Physics was, um,
different, consider this course offering from the Stony Brooke catalog called, Improvisation
for Scientists. The description reads, "The goal of teaching scientists improv is not
to turn them into actors, but to free them to talk about their work more spontaneously
and directly, to pay dynamic attention to their listeners and to connect personally
with their audience." And here's some breaking news: In a rare moment
of bipartisanship...it looks like Congress is actually going to create a position called
"Science Laureate." The job description? Get out there and get Americans excited about
science. Some day one of you may apply for that gig!
I'm sure at this point some of you are saying, "Well I'm a researcher, a lab scientist, I
just spent 4 years here, I only have to know how to communicate with my peers."
To which I'd respectfully say, pride in your efforts and achievements notwithstanding,
that's simply not good enough. So, here's where I come out: I'm not going
to tell you that by finding human ways to communicate science and biology you have the
power to inspire young people to embrace the wonder of science, to engage science with
a passion equal to yours, and to eventually pursue a career in science - with the goal
of illuminating the world, making new discoveries; and moving the history of the human condition
forward. Even though you do. No, as you leave these university halls I'm
going to ask something far simpler of you: Just don't screw it up. That's right, don't
screw it up. You have the power to keep someone from glazing over. From turning off. To keep someone from believing
something that ISN'T science because the scientific explanation, I mean, the truth, is too complicated
to communicate. Your job, I repeat is to NOT TO TURN PEOPLE
OFF. How hard is that? The more you can turn science into English, the more you can make
concepts easier to understand, the more you can tell stories, the more patient you are,
the more diligent you are, the more you personally give science a chance to teach, to convince,
to cajole, to persuade, to shine light on knowledge and discovery, then the more you
will succeed in being a true human being . . . who's also a scientist.
Oh, and the translation of the passage I read at the start this talk? The author is Theodore
Geisel. You know him as the famous Dr. Seuss. And those lines are from his very last book,
"Oh, The Places You'll Go": "You have brains in your head"
"You have feet in your shoes" "You can steer yourself any direction you
choose." "You're on your own. And you know what you
know." "You are the one who'll decide where to go."
All we, the lab-coat challenged, ask is that wherever you go, please speak English.
Congratulations, class of 2013. And thank-you.