- Email: [email protected]
Does Australia need a more effective policy of science communication?
International Journal for Parasitology 33 (2003) 357–361 www.parasitology-online.com
Australian Society for Parasitology Address
Does Australia need a more effective policy of science communication? Chris Bryant* Centre for the Public Awareness of Science, Australian National University, Canberra, ACT 0200, Australia Received 4 November 2002; accepted 9 December 2002
About 20 years ago, ABC television was filming a news item, about anthelminthic resistance, in my laboratory. We had gone to great lengths to establish, for the film crew, live Haemonchus contortus in a maintenance medium in a glass chamber in the laboratory. The worms were satisfyingly active and the camera came right up close. When the programme went to air, the worms filled the television screen. The next day, there were headlines in the paper. “‘Giant worms threaten wool industry’ says ANU academic”. Then the telephone rang hot with reporters wanting confirmation of the story and with my colleagues – some of whom are sitting in this room – having a field day at my expense. I tell this story because it was a failure in science communication and it was my fault. Had I thought a bit more carefully I would have put a 5-cent piece in the tank so that the viewers could judge the true size of the worms. Professor Trounson’s recent stem cell gaffe is another, potentially costly, failure in science communication. It was a failure in science communication because a scientist underestimated the capacity of his audience to find out the truth. Trounson made the error of mistaking condescension for simplification. And finally, an article in the Canberra Times on September 17 reported an Adelaide University study that showed Australians spend about $2.3 billion per year on alternative medicines and therapies. This sum, according to Professor Alastair McLennan, is four times as much as that spent on proven therapies. Sixty per cent of women and 44% of men now use alternative therapies. Even allowing for the few alternative remedies that are effective, this is failure of science communication on a gigantic scale. If one is supposed to be an advocate for communication, it is always a good idea to let people know what you are * Tel.: þ61-6-249-4815; fax: þ 61-6-249-4950. E-mail address: [email protected] (C. Bryant). 0020-7519/03/$30.00 doi:10.1016/S0020-7519(03)00004-3
talking about so I’ll start with a definition. I define science communication as
the processes by which the scientific culture and its knowledge become incorporated into the common culture. This immediately raises a number of questions. The first, and most important, is what are these processes? I hope that I will have answered that question by the end of this talk. Second, what is the culture of science? The answer is, of course, that there are several cultures of science that have been defined by the philosophers of science. Of these, I prefer the simple conclusion of Feyerabend (1993): that science is what scientists do and even though we might pay lip service to Popper’s scientific method of falsification, I doubt whether more than a few of us deliberately set out to falsify our ideas. Good ideas are usually so hard won that we cling to them until we are forced to abandon them. And what is the wider community? Well, one thing we know about it is that it is not homogeneous. Nationally, we have many communities, each bringing different intellectual baggage to their understanding of science and therefore creating in their collective minds a view of science that is different from that of the communicator. The same is true for individuals. I must not expect, if I try to explain electron transport in tapeworms, that my listeners’ mental pictures of the mechanism will be the same as mine. They will construct their own understandings in the light of what is already in their minds. This process is called constructivism, and is poorly appreciated by many scientists, most of whom adhere to the conduit metaphor of communication – the idea that knowledge flows, like water down a pipe, from one brain to another without undergoing change. It is inherent in phrases like ‘getting the message across’.
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A good example of the conduit metaphor in operation can be found in the conversation about the benefits of immunisation that a colleague had with an eminent immunologist at ANU. He was upset by the poor immunisation rates in the community. “Look”, he said, getting out some elegant epidemiological graphs, “just show them these. How can they fail to understand?” How indeed! Epidemiological graphs pale into insignificance for a mother who is about to have her baby perforated and loaded with antigen. For her, other, immediate issues are more important and science communicators must win both her heart and her mind in order to change her attitude. She must understand the importance of immunisation and be confident that her decision to immunise will benefit her child. The ‘anti-immunisation lobby’ understands this well. Failures in science communication are apparent all over the world. The National Science Foundation (NSF) in the United States has been conducting surveys for more than 20 years (National Science Foundation, 2002). A consistent 90% of adults sampled have always claimed to be interested in science and technology. Unfortunately, this is not reflected in surveys of reader preferences for news articles – only 2% of the stories that were followed by this public concerned science or science-related stories. And, in 2001 only 15% of respondents to the NSF survey described themselves as well informed on science and innovation while 35% described themselves as poorly informed. This appears to be part of a downward trend. Further, half the respondents did not know that the earliest humans lived long after dinosaurs, that it takes the Earth 1 year to go around the sun, that electrons are smaller than atoms and that antibiotics do not kill viruses. But, you have to ask, does it matter? Not knowing any of these things is not going to affect the way we live our daily lives – even the misinformation about antibiotics should not matter as long as their prescription is in the hands of the medical professionals, who, we assume, do understand about them. And does it really matter if someone thinks the sun goes round the Earth? The Earth will continue to go round the sun, whatever people think. There have been many surveys like this. If you ask socalled science questions of the public then, unless they get them all right, the conclusion must be that they don’t know as much as they should. It is a deficit model designed – advertently or inadvertently – to paint a picture of the public as lacking in knowledge. A famous questionnaire administered to the British public purported to assess its scientific knowledge (Durant et al., 1989). The British public did not do well and the results were published in Nature with much tearing of hair. Now, we have been running workshops for scientists for some years and, as part of the workshops, we have given this same questionnaire to the attendees. We have found that there is no significant difference between the overall scores of the scientists and the public. Some questions might be
answered better, others not so well. All that these questionnaires do is demonstrate that the knowledge of each person is uneven and idiosyncratic. Much more worrying is the NSF finding that most Americans, Canadians, and Europeans gave the incorrect answer (true) to the statement:
Ordinary tomatoes do not contain genes, while genetically modified tomatoes do. Here is something that will impinge on their daily lives. But, to put it in perspective, is this any more worrying than the following statement attributed to Lasch (1995) and quoted in Prelli (2001):
A sizeable majority (of Americans) believe that Israel is an Arab nation. Neither, apparently, do they have a clear understanding of how their own government works. So, as Prelli remarks:
“if the American public cannot grasp these essentials, why should we expect that science literacy campaigns could elevate their comprehension of arcane technical nomenclatures and complex principles of science?” Genetic engineering has been an object lesson in how not to communicate. As the NSF reports, a majority of Americans have never agreed that the benefits of genetic engineering outweighed the harmful results. In 2001, only 40% of those surveyed thought that the benefits outweighed the harmful results, a drop of almost 10% in 15 years. Yet 61% of respondents reported that they supported genetically modified food production. Further, only 50% of Americans, 38% of Europeans and 50% of Canadians consider that genetic engineering will improve their way of life, while the percentages of those who think it will make things worse are 29, 31 and 40%, respectively. If I have seemed to berate the Americans, it is only because they have done the surveying. The situation is not very different in Europe. A conference, organised by the European Life Sciences Group and entitled Life Sciences Communication in the Media, took place in Brussels on July 9, 2002. Scientists had an opportunity to discuss their difficulties with journalists. They deplored the tendency for scientific developments to make the headlines only if associated either with a ‘breakthrough’ or with a controversy. In particular they deplored the fact that, to make science seem ‘sexy’, it was necessary to represent it as an adversarial system. No wonder, they said, scientists are viewed with suspicion. What became clear was the deep misunderstanding, suspicion and hostility directed at innovative products based
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on recombinant DNA technology – affecting, for instance, GM foods and crops (though not, notably, the development of new medical drugs and treatments). The move against GM foods is particularly severe in the United Kingdom and is the source of Prime Minister Blair’s dilemma when he became the first ever ruling Prime Minister to address the Royal Society, on May 28, 2002. In a speech entitled Science Matters (Blair, 2002) he made a number of important points. He said it was time to end the air of suspicion and mistrust – and the ensuing ignorance – that sometimes surrounds the work of cutting-edge scientists. And he wants to persuade more young people to take up mathematics, physics and engineering at school and university, and undertook to increase investment in research and development. These are all admirable objectives. But – and this is where he got into trouble with scientists and science communicators – he also promised to break down the antiscience fashion in Britain and claimed he would never give way to misguided protesters who stood in the way of medical and economic advance. The Times newspaper, on May 29, reported that
“the Prime Minister is privately furious at the actions of protesters which have resulted in work being held up on research into genetically modified foods, and at disruption that could threaten a neurological research project in Cambridge aimed at helping sufferers of Alzheimer’s disease. He is angry over the regular description of GM foods as ‘Frankenstein foods’, and at the way science was blamed for the BSE emergency. ‘BSE was not caused by bad science but by bad practices’.” The problem for Blair is that he defined science in terms of political positions and the economy. The address caused a great flutter on the Internet, with reputable scientists pointing out that because they had misgivings about GM foods they were not antiscience. As one anonymous contributor remarked,
“so far as he (Blair) is concerned if you worry about GM foods and the government’s cavalier approach to the planting and dissemination of GM organisms, you are anti science. On the contrary, you can be a scientist, support animal experimentation where it is of real benefit to humanity and still oppose the planting of more GM crops.” However, in September, The Economist (reported in the Weekend Australian on August 31, 2002) ferreted out what is likely to be the real reason for Blair’s conversion. During his trip to India last year, the Indians were apparently very pleased that Britain was having trouble with GM crops because they saw it as an opportunity to take the initiative
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and develop their own capability and become world leaders in genetic engineering. The Green Lobby has, in fact, won the GM crop debate in the UK and is winning in Western Europe. In the UK, once on a par with the Americans in this area, field trials are down to four in 2002 from a peak of 37 in 1995. How did things get into this critical state? I think the history of science communication in the UK in the last 30 years explains much. In 1971, the Duke of Edinburgh and 80 different organisations set up the Standing Conference on Schools Science and Technology. It defined its mission to “excite young people about science, technology, industry and engineering” and “to influence the teaching of science in ways which will appeal to young people aged 5 –18”. In this way, it claimed, it “will motivate more of them to aim for worthwhile careers in industry as scientists and engineers”. Three further tiers of organisation were set in place. Science and Technology Regional Organisations (45 in the whole of the UK) were established “to stimulate curriculum change, to motivate young people and to encourage education-industry partnerships”. Prominent among their efforts are activities such as young engineers’ clubs, prestigious awards for science projects, and making available industry-related resources for science teaching in schools and colleges. They also have a public advisory function. Within each regional organisation, Science Engineering and Technology Networks (SETNETs) - scientists sometimes seem to suffer from malignant acronymia – were established. Their objectives include the development of a framework of policy and collaboration within which existing centres systems services and schemes can work more effectively; enhancement of the teaching and learning of engineering and related subjects; and putting the focus on science, mathematics and technology as key curriculum subjects. A key objective is to promote good experience of industry. And each SETNET has a SETPoint to provide a ‘onestop shop’ for information about science, engineering, technology and mathematics. Its aim is to encourage cooperation between young scientists and the community, to encourage greater publicity for success stories from teachers and students and to act as a focus for distribution and collection of information for students, teachers and business by reviewing local activities and organising seminars and meetings. This whole organisation – four layers – is to be applauded and the efforts of its members to enhance the public understanding of science is to be admired. But what have been the outcomes of all this activity? Since 1971, the start of this movement, a number of important statements about science and science communication have been made in the UK. Here are some recent ones. In 1995, the Wolfendale Report of the Royal Society (Wolfendale, 1995) stated that:
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“In a changing world, the maintenance of research support, and hopefully its enhancement, and also the increased take-up of science and engineering subjects by people of all ages, will depend on public appreciation of science and engineering and their practitioners.” On February 23, 2000, the British House of Lords published the findings of a Select Committee on Science and Society (House of Lords, 2000). The report begins by stating that “society’s relationship with science is in a critical phase”, citing recent developments in biotechnology and the mad cow disease disaster as eroding public confidence and creating public unease. The overall findings of the Committee focused on the imperative for science communicators to build bridges between science and the public. It included recommendations for major funding to support the activities of bodies concerned with the public understanding of science, bodies such as the Committee on the Public Understanding of Science (COPUS) and the British Association for the Advancement of Science. It was an extraordinary document, given that the broad base of practising scientists did not hold communication in high esteem. The Select Committee recommended that all scientists include training in communication and understand the social context of their research. The connotations of ‘knowledge’ and ‘comprehension of facts’ implicit in the public understanding of science is, according to the Select Committee, problematic. Consider these two sections:
3.9. Despite all this activity and commitment, we have been told from several quarters that the expression ‘public understanding of science’ may not be the most appropriate label. Sir Robert May called it a “rather backward-looking vision” (Q 28). It is argued that the words imply a condescending assumption that any difficulties in the relationship between science and society are due entirely to ignorance and misunderstanding on the part of the public; and that, with enough public-understanding activity, the public can be brought to greater knowledge, whereupon all will be well. This approach is felt by many of our witnesses to be inadequate; the British Council went so far as to call it “outmoded and potentially disastrous” (p. 140). 3.11. It is therefore increasingly important that nonexperts should be able to understand aspects of science and technology which touch their lives. It is also increasingly important that scientists should seek to understand the impact of their work and its possible applications on society and public opinion. The Report goes on to urge a new term to replace the backward looking vision of ‘the public understanding of
science’. This was not well received by those in the UK who had been committed to the public understanding of science. Understandably, they considered that their efforts had in some way been demeaned. As a measure of the state of disarray that the science communication world in the UK is in, let us look at the plight of COPUS. COPUS was established about 16 years ago, in response to calls for greater public understanding of science, by the Royal Society, the Royal Institute and the British Association for the Advancement of Science. Dame Bridget Ogilvie – formerly the guiding light of the Wellcome Foundation and an Australian by birth, whose work on immunity to nematodes many members will remember – resigned as Chair of COPUS in June. She said “I am highly embarrassed by the total paralysis shown so clearly by the last two meetings of COPUS council. As things stand, it is pointless to continue”. An observer at the House of Commons Science and Technology Select Committee in July 2002 reported that the mess appeared to be extensive. The Royal Society had failed to defend the past or present any coherent vision for the future. The House of Commons Select Committee on Science and Technology tabled its third report at the same meeting (House of Commons, 2002). The report focuses on senior school science. The Committee concludes that assessment at GCSE is based on rote learning of irrelevant facts. Further, it stated that the curriculum fails to inspire students to continue with science and has made of practical work a tedious and dull activity. Science teaching, the Committee complained, neglects contemporary science and lacks flexibility and, discourages students from thinking for themselves. This highly critical report concludes that poor laboratory facilities and a shortage of technicians prevent exciting practical work from being carried out. It called on the government to invest in laboratory refurbishment and to address the appalling pay and conditions of service for technicians. Dr Ian Gibson MP, the Chairman of the Committee, said:
“School science can be so boring it puts young people off science for life. GCSE science students have to cram in so many facts that they have no time to explore interesting ideas, and slog through practical exercises which are completely pointless. This is a disaster. We need to encourage a new generation of young scientists and to ensure that the rest of the population has a sound understanding of scientific principles.” So, where did it all go wrong? I think the problem has its roots in a failure to understand the difference between the ‘public understanding of science’ and the ‘public awareness of science’. I have already defined science communication as ‘the processes by which the scientific culture and its knowledge become incorporated into the common culture’. Now I want to go further and talk about those processes, as I promised to do at the beginning of this address. I will not use
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the acronym ‘PUS’. Somebody once remarked that only a scientist could have come up with an acronym that had such unlovely connotations. The public understanding of science differs from the public awareness of science in that it most usually concerns that part of the public already committed to the philosophies of science, having been entrained by formal means. It is most often seen in the membership of non-professional science-based societies (gemmology or bird watching, for example), the attendees of public lectures or adult education courses and in the enhancement, by professional scientists, of learning opportunities for those pursuing a formal education in science. This, I think, describes the thrust of the greatest part of science communication in the UK very well. As you see, most of the effort is directed towards those who already have an interest in science. This is obviously very important, because it is from these groups that professional scientists, engineers and technicians will be recruited. The public awareness of science, is much harder to define. According to Gilbert et al. (1999), it is
“a set of attitudes based on beliefs and feelings...Accessing scientific and technological knowledge and a sense of ownership of that knowledge will impart a confidence to explore its ramifications. This will lead...to an evaluation of the status of such knowledge and its significance for personal, social and economic life.” What is meant here by ‘awareness’? It goes further than a mere knowledge that the science exists. It implies that an affective change has taken place in the observer, that he or she feels comfortable with science, may even have a sense of ownership and pride in it. It emphasises the importance of participation. If science is seen as too hard, if scientists encourage this view by remaining aloof, then it is not surprising if people turn away. It seems to me that the troubles in the UK stem from the fact that science communicators ignored one of the two major components of science communication. On the one hand there is ‘public understanding of science’; on the other is ‘public awareness of science’. The first involves science education, both formally and informally, which leads to a greater level of appreciation of scientific ideas in the general public. It is relatively easily measured. ‘Awareness’ is concerned with encouraging the need to know in the individual or the community, with creating an affective change, that favours science, in that individual or community. It is hard to measure, but the best science communicators are able to engender and nurture that change. By so doing, they create a community that is as comfortable with its ‘ownership’ of science as it is comfortable with its ‘ownership’ of art. ‘Understanding of science’ and ‘awareness of science’ are two sides of the same coin. UK neglected awareness and finds
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itself in trouble, in spite of spending AUD $5 billion of millennium money on the development of science centres and similar establishments. The further establishment of a $750 million National Centre for Excellence in Science Teaching is a recent attempt to redress the balance - but will it address both understanding and awareness? We do not yet know. The UK experience may provide an object lesson for Australia. In Australia, it is rather a case of ‘it’s just as well that I’m going so slowly as I may be going in the wrong direction’. Not much has been spent on science communication, in comparison with other countries. Government policies have been directed towards ‘understanding’ rather than ‘awareness’ while in the few years that the Centre for the Public Awareness of Science has been established we have created an international reputation in the public awareness field. Graduates from our programmes are finding employment nationally and internationally. Because policy development is in such an embryonic state in Australia, we do not have huge investment in either ‘understanding’ or ‘awareness’ of science. We are uncommitted to a particular brand of science communication. We have a good chance, therefore, of not making the mistakes that have been made elsewhere in the world. We must take that chance and use it to develop a properly integrated policy of science communication using a model that includes both ‘awareness’ and ‘understanding’ in our thinking. We must involve government, industry, the education sector, business and the community. We have the raw material for excellence in this area - we just need the support and confidence to move rapidly before we are left behind by the rest of the world.
References Blair, A., 2002. Science Matters. 10 Downing Street Newsroom, www.pm. gov.uk/output/Page5044.asp. Durant, J.R., Evans, G.A., Thomas, G.P., 1989. The public understanding of science. Nature 340, 11 –14. Feyerabend, P., 1993. Against Method, 3rd Edition, Norton, New York/ London. Gilbert, J.K., Stocklmayer, S.M., Garnett, R., 1999. Mental modelling in science and technology centres: what are visitors really doing? . In: Stocklmayer, S.M., Hardy, T. (Eds.), Proceedings of the International Conference on Learning Science in Informal Contexts, Questacon, Canberra, pp. 16– 32. House of Commons, 2002. Third Report of the Select Committee on Science and Technology, House of Commons, London. House of Lords, 2000. Report of the Select Committee on Science and Society, House of Lords, London. National Science Foundation, 2002. Division of Science Resources Statistics, Science and Engineering Indicators – 2002, National Science Foundation, Arlington, VA, NSB 02-01. Prelli, L.J., 2001. Topical perspective and the rhetorical grounds of practical reason in arguments about science. In: Stocklmayer, S.M., Gore, M.M., Bryant, C. (Eds.), Science Communication in Theory and Practice, Kluwer Academic Publishers, Dordrecht, pp. 63–81. Wolfendale, A., 1995. Report of the Committee to Review the Contribution of Scientists and Engineers the Public Understanding of Science and Technology, The Royal Society, London.
Australian Society for Parasitology Address
Does Australia need a more effective policy of science communication? Chris Bryant* Centre for the Public Awareness of Science, Australian National University, Canberra, ACT 0200, Australia Received 4 November 2002; accepted 9 December 2002
About 20 years ago, ABC television was filming a news item, about anthelminthic resistance, in my laboratory. We had gone to great lengths to establish, for the film crew, live Haemonchus contortus in a maintenance medium in a glass chamber in the laboratory. The worms were satisfyingly active and the camera came right up close. When the programme went to air, the worms filled the television screen. The next day, there were headlines in the paper. “‘Giant worms threaten wool industry’ says ANU academic”. Then the telephone rang hot with reporters wanting confirmation of the story and with my colleagues – some of whom are sitting in this room – having a field day at my expense. I tell this story because it was a failure in science communication and it was my fault. Had I thought a bit more carefully I would have put a 5-cent piece in the tank so that the viewers could judge the true size of the worms. Professor Trounson’s recent stem cell gaffe is another, potentially costly, failure in science communication. It was a failure in science communication because a scientist underestimated the capacity of his audience to find out the truth. Trounson made the error of mistaking condescension for simplification. And finally, an article in the Canberra Times on September 17 reported an Adelaide University study that showed Australians spend about $2.3 billion per year on alternative medicines and therapies. This sum, according to Professor Alastair McLennan, is four times as much as that spent on proven therapies. Sixty per cent of women and 44% of men now use alternative therapies. Even allowing for the few alternative remedies that are effective, this is failure of science communication on a gigantic scale. If one is supposed to be an advocate for communication, it is always a good idea to let people know what you are * Tel.: þ61-6-249-4815; fax: þ 61-6-249-4950. E-mail address: [email protected] (C. Bryant). 0020-7519/03/$30.00 doi:10.1016/S0020-7519(03)00004-3
talking about so I’ll start with a definition. I define science communication as
the processes by which the scientific culture and its knowledge become incorporated into the common culture. This immediately raises a number of questions. The first, and most important, is what are these processes? I hope that I will have answered that question by the end of this talk. Second, what is the culture of science? The answer is, of course, that there are several cultures of science that have been defined by the philosophers of science. Of these, I prefer the simple conclusion of Feyerabend (1993): that science is what scientists do and even though we might pay lip service to Popper’s scientific method of falsification, I doubt whether more than a few of us deliberately set out to falsify our ideas. Good ideas are usually so hard won that we cling to them until we are forced to abandon them. And what is the wider community? Well, one thing we know about it is that it is not homogeneous. Nationally, we have many communities, each bringing different intellectual baggage to their understanding of science and therefore creating in their collective minds a view of science that is different from that of the communicator. The same is true for individuals. I must not expect, if I try to explain electron transport in tapeworms, that my listeners’ mental pictures of the mechanism will be the same as mine. They will construct their own understandings in the light of what is already in their minds. This process is called constructivism, and is poorly appreciated by many scientists, most of whom adhere to the conduit metaphor of communication – the idea that knowledge flows, like water down a pipe, from one brain to another without undergoing change. It is inherent in phrases like ‘getting the message across’.
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A good example of the conduit metaphor in operation can be found in the conversation about the benefits of immunisation that a colleague had with an eminent immunologist at ANU. He was upset by the poor immunisation rates in the community. “Look”, he said, getting out some elegant epidemiological graphs, “just show them these. How can they fail to understand?” How indeed! Epidemiological graphs pale into insignificance for a mother who is about to have her baby perforated and loaded with antigen. For her, other, immediate issues are more important and science communicators must win both her heart and her mind in order to change her attitude. She must understand the importance of immunisation and be confident that her decision to immunise will benefit her child. The ‘anti-immunisation lobby’ understands this well. Failures in science communication are apparent all over the world. The National Science Foundation (NSF) in the United States has been conducting surveys for more than 20 years (National Science Foundation, 2002). A consistent 90% of adults sampled have always claimed to be interested in science and technology. Unfortunately, this is not reflected in surveys of reader preferences for news articles – only 2% of the stories that were followed by this public concerned science or science-related stories. And, in 2001 only 15% of respondents to the NSF survey described themselves as well informed on science and innovation while 35% described themselves as poorly informed. This appears to be part of a downward trend. Further, half the respondents did not know that the earliest humans lived long after dinosaurs, that it takes the Earth 1 year to go around the sun, that electrons are smaller than atoms and that antibiotics do not kill viruses. But, you have to ask, does it matter? Not knowing any of these things is not going to affect the way we live our daily lives – even the misinformation about antibiotics should not matter as long as their prescription is in the hands of the medical professionals, who, we assume, do understand about them. And does it really matter if someone thinks the sun goes round the Earth? The Earth will continue to go round the sun, whatever people think. There have been many surveys like this. If you ask socalled science questions of the public then, unless they get them all right, the conclusion must be that they don’t know as much as they should. It is a deficit model designed – advertently or inadvertently – to paint a picture of the public as lacking in knowledge. A famous questionnaire administered to the British public purported to assess its scientific knowledge (Durant et al., 1989). The British public did not do well and the results were published in Nature with much tearing of hair. Now, we have been running workshops for scientists for some years and, as part of the workshops, we have given this same questionnaire to the attendees. We have found that there is no significant difference between the overall scores of the scientists and the public. Some questions might be
answered better, others not so well. All that these questionnaires do is demonstrate that the knowledge of each person is uneven and idiosyncratic. Much more worrying is the NSF finding that most Americans, Canadians, and Europeans gave the incorrect answer (true) to the statement:
Ordinary tomatoes do not contain genes, while genetically modified tomatoes do. Here is something that will impinge on their daily lives. But, to put it in perspective, is this any more worrying than the following statement attributed to Lasch (1995) and quoted in Prelli (2001):
A sizeable majority (of Americans) believe that Israel is an Arab nation. Neither, apparently, do they have a clear understanding of how their own government works. So, as Prelli remarks:
“if the American public cannot grasp these essentials, why should we expect that science literacy campaigns could elevate their comprehension of arcane technical nomenclatures and complex principles of science?” Genetic engineering has been an object lesson in how not to communicate. As the NSF reports, a majority of Americans have never agreed that the benefits of genetic engineering outweighed the harmful results. In 2001, only 40% of those surveyed thought that the benefits outweighed the harmful results, a drop of almost 10% in 15 years. Yet 61% of respondents reported that they supported genetically modified food production. Further, only 50% of Americans, 38% of Europeans and 50% of Canadians consider that genetic engineering will improve their way of life, while the percentages of those who think it will make things worse are 29, 31 and 40%, respectively. If I have seemed to berate the Americans, it is only because they have done the surveying. The situation is not very different in Europe. A conference, organised by the European Life Sciences Group and entitled Life Sciences Communication in the Media, took place in Brussels on July 9, 2002. Scientists had an opportunity to discuss their difficulties with journalists. They deplored the tendency for scientific developments to make the headlines only if associated either with a ‘breakthrough’ or with a controversy. In particular they deplored the fact that, to make science seem ‘sexy’, it was necessary to represent it as an adversarial system. No wonder, they said, scientists are viewed with suspicion. What became clear was the deep misunderstanding, suspicion and hostility directed at innovative products based
C. Bryant / International Journal for Parasitology 33 (2003) 357–361
on recombinant DNA technology – affecting, for instance, GM foods and crops (though not, notably, the development of new medical drugs and treatments). The move against GM foods is particularly severe in the United Kingdom and is the source of Prime Minister Blair’s dilemma when he became the first ever ruling Prime Minister to address the Royal Society, on May 28, 2002. In a speech entitled Science Matters (Blair, 2002) he made a number of important points. He said it was time to end the air of suspicion and mistrust – and the ensuing ignorance – that sometimes surrounds the work of cutting-edge scientists. And he wants to persuade more young people to take up mathematics, physics and engineering at school and university, and undertook to increase investment in research and development. These are all admirable objectives. But – and this is where he got into trouble with scientists and science communicators – he also promised to break down the antiscience fashion in Britain and claimed he would never give way to misguided protesters who stood in the way of medical and economic advance. The Times newspaper, on May 29, reported that
“the Prime Minister is privately furious at the actions of protesters which have resulted in work being held up on research into genetically modified foods, and at disruption that could threaten a neurological research project in Cambridge aimed at helping sufferers of Alzheimer’s disease. He is angry over the regular description of GM foods as ‘Frankenstein foods’, and at the way science was blamed for the BSE emergency. ‘BSE was not caused by bad science but by bad practices’.” The problem for Blair is that he defined science in terms of political positions and the economy. The address caused a great flutter on the Internet, with reputable scientists pointing out that because they had misgivings about GM foods they were not antiscience. As one anonymous contributor remarked,
“so far as he (Blair) is concerned if you worry about GM foods and the government’s cavalier approach to the planting and dissemination of GM organisms, you are anti science. On the contrary, you can be a scientist, support animal experimentation where it is of real benefit to humanity and still oppose the planting of more GM crops.” However, in September, The Economist (reported in the Weekend Australian on August 31, 2002) ferreted out what is likely to be the real reason for Blair’s conversion. During his trip to India last year, the Indians were apparently very pleased that Britain was having trouble with GM crops because they saw it as an opportunity to take the initiative
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and develop their own capability and become world leaders in genetic engineering. The Green Lobby has, in fact, won the GM crop debate in the UK and is winning in Western Europe. In the UK, once on a par with the Americans in this area, field trials are down to four in 2002 from a peak of 37 in 1995. How did things get into this critical state? I think the history of science communication in the UK in the last 30 years explains much. In 1971, the Duke of Edinburgh and 80 different organisations set up the Standing Conference on Schools Science and Technology. It defined its mission to “excite young people about science, technology, industry and engineering” and “to influence the teaching of science in ways which will appeal to young people aged 5 –18”. In this way, it claimed, it “will motivate more of them to aim for worthwhile careers in industry as scientists and engineers”. Three further tiers of organisation were set in place. Science and Technology Regional Organisations (45 in the whole of the UK) were established “to stimulate curriculum change, to motivate young people and to encourage education-industry partnerships”. Prominent among their efforts are activities such as young engineers’ clubs, prestigious awards for science projects, and making available industry-related resources for science teaching in schools and colleges. They also have a public advisory function. Within each regional organisation, Science Engineering and Technology Networks (SETNETs) - scientists sometimes seem to suffer from malignant acronymia – were established. Their objectives include the development of a framework of policy and collaboration within which existing centres systems services and schemes can work more effectively; enhancement of the teaching and learning of engineering and related subjects; and putting the focus on science, mathematics and technology as key curriculum subjects. A key objective is to promote good experience of industry. And each SETNET has a SETPoint to provide a ‘onestop shop’ for information about science, engineering, technology and mathematics. Its aim is to encourage cooperation between young scientists and the community, to encourage greater publicity for success stories from teachers and students and to act as a focus for distribution and collection of information for students, teachers and business by reviewing local activities and organising seminars and meetings. This whole organisation – four layers – is to be applauded and the efforts of its members to enhance the public understanding of science is to be admired. But what have been the outcomes of all this activity? Since 1971, the start of this movement, a number of important statements about science and science communication have been made in the UK. Here are some recent ones. In 1995, the Wolfendale Report of the Royal Society (Wolfendale, 1995) stated that:
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“In a changing world, the maintenance of research support, and hopefully its enhancement, and also the increased take-up of science and engineering subjects by people of all ages, will depend on public appreciation of science and engineering and their practitioners.” On February 23, 2000, the British House of Lords published the findings of a Select Committee on Science and Society (House of Lords, 2000). The report begins by stating that “society’s relationship with science is in a critical phase”, citing recent developments in biotechnology and the mad cow disease disaster as eroding public confidence and creating public unease. The overall findings of the Committee focused on the imperative for science communicators to build bridges between science and the public. It included recommendations for major funding to support the activities of bodies concerned with the public understanding of science, bodies such as the Committee on the Public Understanding of Science (COPUS) and the British Association for the Advancement of Science. It was an extraordinary document, given that the broad base of practising scientists did not hold communication in high esteem. The Select Committee recommended that all scientists include training in communication and understand the social context of their research. The connotations of ‘knowledge’ and ‘comprehension of facts’ implicit in the public understanding of science is, according to the Select Committee, problematic. Consider these two sections:
3.9. Despite all this activity and commitment, we have been told from several quarters that the expression ‘public understanding of science’ may not be the most appropriate label. Sir Robert May called it a “rather backward-looking vision” (Q 28). It is argued that the words imply a condescending assumption that any difficulties in the relationship between science and society are due entirely to ignorance and misunderstanding on the part of the public; and that, with enough public-understanding activity, the public can be brought to greater knowledge, whereupon all will be well. This approach is felt by many of our witnesses to be inadequate; the British Council went so far as to call it “outmoded and potentially disastrous” (p. 140). 3.11. It is therefore increasingly important that nonexperts should be able to understand aspects of science and technology which touch their lives. It is also increasingly important that scientists should seek to understand the impact of their work and its possible applications on society and public opinion. The Report goes on to urge a new term to replace the backward looking vision of ‘the public understanding of
science’. This was not well received by those in the UK who had been committed to the public understanding of science. Understandably, they considered that their efforts had in some way been demeaned. As a measure of the state of disarray that the science communication world in the UK is in, let us look at the plight of COPUS. COPUS was established about 16 years ago, in response to calls for greater public understanding of science, by the Royal Society, the Royal Institute and the British Association for the Advancement of Science. Dame Bridget Ogilvie – formerly the guiding light of the Wellcome Foundation and an Australian by birth, whose work on immunity to nematodes many members will remember – resigned as Chair of COPUS in June. She said “I am highly embarrassed by the total paralysis shown so clearly by the last two meetings of COPUS council. As things stand, it is pointless to continue”. An observer at the House of Commons Science and Technology Select Committee in July 2002 reported that the mess appeared to be extensive. The Royal Society had failed to defend the past or present any coherent vision for the future. The House of Commons Select Committee on Science and Technology tabled its third report at the same meeting (House of Commons, 2002). The report focuses on senior school science. The Committee concludes that assessment at GCSE is based on rote learning of irrelevant facts. Further, it stated that the curriculum fails to inspire students to continue with science and has made of practical work a tedious and dull activity. Science teaching, the Committee complained, neglects contemporary science and lacks flexibility and, discourages students from thinking for themselves. This highly critical report concludes that poor laboratory facilities and a shortage of technicians prevent exciting practical work from being carried out. It called on the government to invest in laboratory refurbishment and to address the appalling pay and conditions of service for technicians. Dr Ian Gibson MP, the Chairman of the Committee, said:
“School science can be so boring it puts young people off science for life. GCSE science students have to cram in so many facts that they have no time to explore interesting ideas, and slog through practical exercises which are completely pointless. This is a disaster. We need to encourage a new generation of young scientists and to ensure that the rest of the population has a sound understanding of scientific principles.” So, where did it all go wrong? I think the problem has its roots in a failure to understand the difference between the ‘public understanding of science’ and the ‘public awareness of science’. I have already defined science communication as ‘the processes by which the scientific culture and its knowledge become incorporated into the common culture’. Now I want to go further and talk about those processes, as I promised to do at the beginning of this address. I will not use
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the acronym ‘PUS’. Somebody once remarked that only a scientist could have come up with an acronym that had such unlovely connotations. The public understanding of science differs from the public awareness of science in that it most usually concerns that part of the public already committed to the philosophies of science, having been entrained by formal means. It is most often seen in the membership of non-professional science-based societies (gemmology or bird watching, for example), the attendees of public lectures or adult education courses and in the enhancement, by professional scientists, of learning opportunities for those pursuing a formal education in science. This, I think, describes the thrust of the greatest part of science communication in the UK very well. As you see, most of the effort is directed towards those who already have an interest in science. This is obviously very important, because it is from these groups that professional scientists, engineers and technicians will be recruited. The public awareness of science, is much harder to define. According to Gilbert et al. (1999), it is
“a set of attitudes based on beliefs and feelings...Accessing scientific and technological knowledge and a sense of ownership of that knowledge will impart a confidence to explore its ramifications. This will lead...to an evaluation of the status of such knowledge and its significance for personal, social and economic life.” What is meant here by ‘awareness’? It goes further than a mere knowledge that the science exists. It implies that an affective change has taken place in the observer, that he or she feels comfortable with science, may even have a sense of ownership and pride in it. It emphasises the importance of participation. If science is seen as too hard, if scientists encourage this view by remaining aloof, then it is not surprising if people turn away. It seems to me that the troubles in the UK stem from the fact that science communicators ignored one of the two major components of science communication. On the one hand there is ‘public understanding of science’; on the other is ‘public awareness of science’. The first involves science education, both formally and informally, which leads to a greater level of appreciation of scientific ideas in the general public. It is relatively easily measured. ‘Awareness’ is concerned with encouraging the need to know in the individual or the community, with creating an affective change, that favours science, in that individual or community. It is hard to measure, but the best science communicators are able to engender and nurture that change. By so doing, they create a community that is as comfortable with its ‘ownership’ of science as it is comfortable with its ‘ownership’ of art. ‘Understanding of science’ and ‘awareness of science’ are two sides of the same coin. UK neglected awareness and finds
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itself in trouble, in spite of spending AUD $5 billion of millennium money on the development of science centres and similar establishments. The further establishment of a $750 million National Centre for Excellence in Science Teaching is a recent attempt to redress the balance - but will it address both understanding and awareness? We do not yet know. The UK experience may provide an object lesson for Australia. In Australia, it is rather a case of ‘it’s just as well that I’m going so slowly as I may be going in the wrong direction’. Not much has been spent on science communication, in comparison with other countries. Government policies have been directed towards ‘understanding’ rather than ‘awareness’ while in the few years that the Centre for the Public Awareness of Science has been established we have created an international reputation in the public awareness field. Graduates from our programmes are finding employment nationally and internationally. Because policy development is in such an embryonic state in Australia, we do not have huge investment in either ‘understanding’ or ‘awareness’ of science. We are uncommitted to a particular brand of science communication. We have a good chance, therefore, of not making the mistakes that have been made elsewhere in the world. We must take that chance and use it to develop a properly integrated policy of science communication using a model that includes both ‘awareness’ and ‘understanding’ in our thinking. We must involve government, industry, the education sector, business and the community. We have the raw material for excellence in this area - we just need the support and confidence to move rapidly before we are left behind by the rest of the world.
References Blair, A., 2002. Science Matters. 10 Downing Street Newsroom, www.pm. gov.uk/output/Page5044.asp. Durant, J.R., Evans, G.A., Thomas, G.P., 1989. The public understanding of science. Nature 340, 11 –14. Feyerabend, P., 1993. Against Method, 3rd Edition, Norton, New York/ London. Gilbert, J.K., Stocklmayer, S.M., Garnett, R., 1999. Mental modelling in science and technology centres: what are visitors really doing? . In: Stocklmayer, S.M., Hardy, T. (Eds.), Proceedings of the International Conference on Learning Science in Informal Contexts, Questacon, Canberra, pp. 16– 32. House of Commons, 2002. Third Report of the Select Committee on Science and Technology, House of Commons, London. House of Lords, 2000. Report of the Select Committee on Science and Society, House of Lords, London. National Science Foundation, 2002. Division of Science Resources Statistics, Science and Engineering Indicators – 2002, National Science Foundation, Arlington, VA, NSB 02-01. Prelli, L.J., 2001. Topical perspective and the rhetorical grounds of practical reason in arguments about science. In: Stocklmayer, S.M., Gore, M.M., Bryant, C. (Eds.), Science Communication in Theory and Practice, Kluwer Academic Publishers, Dordrecht, pp. 63–81. Wolfendale, A., 1995. Report of the Committee to Review the Contribution of Scientists and Engineers the Public Understanding of Science and Technology, The Royal Society, London.