Category Archives: Discuss

Sharing science through story

 

Former FameLabber Feargus McAuliffe speaks at TEDxDublin about how he to learned to share science by telling stories about it.

It’s an interesting watch, but I’d go much further than Feargus: I think the peculiarity is the formalised ‘present your evidence’ model of science, and that in the general case, all communication is storytelling. Indeed, it’s mostly scientists who baulk at that idea – for people in the media and comms worlds, their surprise is that this is even a discussion.

One of the reasons I believe demonstrations are valuable is that they present ideas from science in a (usually very simplified) narrative structure. You begin with an arrangement of apparatus; something happens; the state of the apparatus has changed.

Demos are stories.

Preparation

We’ve been noodling away on ScienceDemo.org for several months, and I felt it was time to try something different with how the site looked and behaved. Big Things are coming (*cough*), and we want the site to do a better job of presenting them.

I also realised we’ve some great photography here, and that many of our posts revolve around video – by us and others. Time to make that more prominent, and see if a more magazine-like feel works… or not.

Oh, and next week it turns out there’s a server move scheduled, so doubtless things will go very pear-shaped and we’ll disappear for a few hours. Days. Whatever. But for the moment:

Hello. This is ScienceDemo.org. You’re looking almost as dashing as we are.

Meanwhile, in Abu Dhabi…

As may have been mentioned, I’m in Abu Dhabi for a month helping train the hundreds of science communicators who will staff the Science Festival here in November. It’s a huge project run by Edinburgh International Science Festival – exhausting, but tremendously rewarding.

This week, one of the universities with which we worked was a teacher training college. As I found last year, it’s a pleasure to work with tremendously capable Emirati women and introduce them to perhaps a slightly different way of interacting with their audiences. The parallels and differences between science communication and conventional classroom practice are fascinating.

At one point we found ourselves discussing demonstrations, and how they might best be used. “Ask the audience to predict what they think’s going to happen!” cried one happy participant. “Yes!” continued another, “Then observe what actually happens, and ask them to explain why.”

Predict/Observe/Explain, it turns out, is quite the thing at this particular college. Cool.

Can you name this sunflower?

You might remember this sunflower from the production diary. It’s suddenly rather important that I know exactly what it is, for labelling purposes.

Trouble is, the closest I come to botany is chopping plants up and cooking them. I did once meet somebody whose rather fabulous job was to identify daisies, but as dates go it wasn’t the most successful so – tragically – I no longer have her number.

Continue reading Can you name this sunflower?

Why are science demonstrations important?

Science demonstrations are often criticised for their passive nature, their gratuitous exploitation and their limited ability to develop scientific knowledge and understanding. In some of today’s active-learning-obsessed classrooms, demonstrations are getting a bad reputation compared to their hands-on equivalents.

I’m passionate about the power of science demos in, and out, of the classroom. For me, demonstrations can be emotionally engaging science theatre. Their unique power lies, like theatre, in their impact on the communal emotional engagement and focus of the audience. Demonstrations have enormous potential to:

  • create and sustain interest
  • stimulate curiosity
  • communicate and share emotions
  • reveal phenomena by showing, not just telling
  • direct focus
  • develop scientific thinking skills, and
  • provoke further interaction, thought and discussion.

I’ve tried to capture a rationale for the benefits of science demonstrations in this paper written for science teachers, but much of this applies to the demos performed by science communicators too.

So why are science demonstrations important to you?

 

Robin Millar on Radio 4

Last week, Alom was on Inside Science – the new Radio 4 science strand, hosted by Adam Rutherford – talking about practical work. He wasn’t wildly happy with the way the piece turned out, but apparently the public response to the item was terrific. Which, you know, could be taken either way.

Anyway, this week the show has Robin Millar from the University of York speaking on the same subject. Before we headed to the US, we stopped off in York and interviewed Robin and his colleague Mary Whitehouse for the Demo Documentary – we’re very happy with the way that interview turned out, Robin and Mary are real gurus of this stuff.

If you’re in the UK you can do the ‘listen again’ thing: Inside Science, Thursday 12th September 2013.

“Doing” science is not the same as learning science

The Council for Science and Technology (CST) says that without practical lessons, science in schools is “like studying literature without reading books”. I’m not sure that’s true. I suspect, if I had to, I could teach my students “science” without ever giving them a single practical lesson, provided I was allowed to use demonstrations and videos. As long as I was allowed to show my student the phenomena I’m trying to get them to understand, I think I could teach a meaningful science course and that they could go on to become scientists if that’s what they wanted to do. Sure, it wouldn’t be the most complete or satisfying way of teaching science, but it would be better than no science education at all and, dare I say it, it might even be better than some approaches to science teaching which include lots of practical work. The CST’s analogy is inaccurate – practical work is not as central to the teaching of science as reading books is to the teaching of literature, just ask any GCSE student who has managed to pass their science exams by simply reading the textbook.

I’ve written about practical work before and even made a short film about it, so I won’t re-hash those arguments here except to say that it’s not unreasonable to assume that “doing” science (it’s debatable that this is what really happens in practical science lessons) might be a pretty good way of learning science. However, we should be aware that this is, as leading education researcher Jonathan Osborne puts it, a “dangerous assumption”. According to Osborne, the role of science education is:

To construct in the young student a deep understanding of a body of existing knowledge. In doing so, it needs to show why this knowledge is valued; that it was hard won; and that science is a creative process – that it offers you the opportunity to free yourself from the shackles of received wisdom by creating your own knowledge. However, that is not the same as the doing of science and there is a clear line in the sand that needs to be drawn between the two activities.
(E-NARST News, July 2007, from conference speech)

As good science teachers we should be wary of people who over-emphasise the importance or benefits of practical work in science teaching and we should look to the research and evidence on how to improve our practice to get the most effective learning for our students. Science is about ideas. We should make sure our ideas about science education are as sound as the ones we attempt to teach.

Brainiac Live – science communication abuse

What kind of example is set by the organisers of the largest STEM engagement event in the UK when they book Brainiac Live – Science Abuse as a headline show? What possessed STEMNET and the ASE to think that collaborating in a ticket promotion of Brainiac Live’s recent West End debut was a good idea?

Faked demonstrations. Mistakes in basic science. A disregard for copycat risks. A counter-productive desperation to ‘make science fun’. A profound lack of passion for science. Are these really qualities with which these organisations want to associate themselves?

Faking your results is the very antithesis of science demonstration shows and, in fact, science. Also, if you fake demos, the damaging subtext is that science isn’t interesting enough in itself, so it has to be enhanced by trickery. The rocket-powered spinning chair routine is symptomatic of most of what is wrong with Brainiac Live and its choice as a headline act for the Big Bang Fair:

Incredibly, it is claimed that the stage pyro “rockets” create the additional thrust rather than the fact that the performer is firing the extinguisher almost continuously on the second occasion! This could have been a high-impact demo with strong theatrical production values and good audience interaction. However, it is completely compromised by a shameful disregard for the science and a preference to trick the audience with a stage firework. It’s so frustrating – a single line at the end of the routine, humorously acknowledging the real role of the “rockets”, could have saved it entirely. This has been pointed out to them. But they don’t seem to care.

The biggest irony of Brainiac Live being booked or promoted by STEM engagement organisations is that it is self-evidently written and performed by people who refuse to believe that science is interesting. This is a capital crime in science communication.

I despair at seeing the wonderful art and science behind science demonstrations being exploited by a theatre production company who do not seem to care about either. There are many passionate, knowledgeable, professional science demonstrators in the UK for whom this caricature of science communication is ludicrous.

I’ve written an open letter of concern explaining my criticisms in more detail. If you share any of these concerns, I urge you to express them to the STEM engagement organisations which book or promote this show.

A BIG event

The annual conference of the British Interactive Group, the BIG Event, is just around the corner. This fixture on the science communication practitioner’s calendar is usually a flurry of interesting sessions, entertaining sideshows and moderately serious events such as the AGM. Over the years BIG has been growing up. I remember the heady days when you could camp behind the observatories at Herstmonceaux, and whole sessions were improvised on the fly. Things are far more organised, these days. Meanwhile, I’ve gone from being the wide eyed, wet nosed young graduate to someone approaching ‘old guard’ status at what I can only describe as an unreasonably rapid rate.

The event reflects how much the sector has grown. More delegates come along from a wider range of sectors. It is still different, both fresh and refreshing, and harbours far more ‘silly’ than you’d expect from a conference, but I can’t help thinking it is all a lot more, you know, serious. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If the sector is to be valued and have much needed injections of hard cash then being all proper and professional will surely help, but I accept wholeheartedly my professional responsibility to be lighthearted at the same time.

A highlight of any BIG event is the Best Demo Competition. I love watching Best Demo but it has been, inexplicably, several years since I last entered. Having stumbled across a nice, new and simple demo within the last year I decided to sign up when the round robin email calling for entrants came knocking. To my surprise, I find that this year there is a limited capacity, that not everyone who wants to take part gets themselves a slot. I made the cut, secured my slot, and suddenly I’ve begun to feel an awful amount of pressure. That decision of mine to do something simple and whimsical no longer feels like the right thing to do. There’s a high risk of total demo failure leaving me looking and feeling a fool.

Last year many of the demos were incredibly well thought out, rehearsed and one had months of training behind it. I’m feeling inadequately prepared. You see, when I last took part, I threw something together, picking up props as I left the office and hacking around ideas about what I might do on the train on the way. I’d hate for someone better prepared to have not made the slot whilst I might turn up on the day with something roughly strewn together. So on a sunny Sunday afternoon with a couple of weeks to go, I find myself feeling the urge to start working on my set.

What I ended up doing of course, is writing this blogpost to let you know I should be thinking about it instead.

I’ll let you know what I eventually decide to do, but not just yet. I’d hate to steal my own thunder and I hope at least some of you might be there.