Archives for : Science Journalism

Journalism’s RISK-y Future

In the weeks since Science Online 2013, a lot of discussion has been taking place over how exactly science is communicated to the public and how we (as scientists, journalists, reporters, etc…) can improve it.

Imagine the game of RISK, the game of world domination, where warring fractions of different colours try to conquer the world through brute force and military strategy. The same can be said to showcase how some people think of the future of journalism.

See, the people in Print Town believe that “print is king,” while the denizens of the Online Realm believe theirs is the fastest and therefore superior method of getting a message across. The citizens of Radio-ville think their way of communication sounds superior, while the folks in TV Land believe they look the best.

Everyone is fighting everyone else for which area is the best and which will be able to survive the longest.

But who is right? Who is wrong? And is there a middle ground?

The short answers are, at least from my perspective: Everyone. No one. And yes

I used to identify myself as a “text monkey,” just science writer extraordinaire Ed Yong stated proudly during the conference. And I still mostly do, as I work in print and have had some success in that realm. However, I took a course during my Masters program that introduced me to online journalism – a field where I blogged, Tweeted and Facebooked regularly, but didn’t give much journalistic credence to.

But I quickly fell in love with it.

A professor once described online journalism as the great mixing pot, taking the best (or sometimes worse) of each discipline and displaying it all for people to see. And I quickly became proficient in it, even doing my Masters thesis in multimedia. I was able to use print, but also radio and TV to supplement what was written, and the resulting product was quite impressive.

I was still ever the resident of Print Town, but my allegiance was quickly shifting.

Despite my reservations about which medium I wanted to use in my future career, I knew exactly what field I wanted to go into – science journalism.

Science journalism, however, is an all-together different beast than straight-up news. Every genre of writing has jargon, experts and a certain amount of background knowledge to understand – but science also has a distinct stigma as being extremely complicated, hard to digest and simply, I hate to say it, boring.

That’s not to say it cannot be done well!

There are plenty of examples of good science writers out there – just look at the work from the Scientific American Blog Network (especially Scicurious and Kate Clancy, who blow my mind on a near-constant basis), as well as Maryn McKenna, Deborah Blum, Maggie Koerth-Baker, DeLene Beeland, Cara Santa Maria, Brian Switek and the list goes on and on and on. Everyone listed here and the countless others I did not name are doing fantastic things in print, radio and multimedia. Every time I read something of theirs, it makes me realize how far I have come and strive to go even farther.

But with the good, there is also the bad.

I’ve given lectures in the past on how to communicate and write about science effectively for the general public. In so doing, I’ve read through countless good and bad articles with the goal of helping advise researchers, public relations people and more on how to avoid common problems associated with science writing. Recalling these lectures naturally lead me to my store of examples, one of which I will share.

This here (http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/the-lay-scientist/2010/sep/24/1) is a piece from The Guardian, which magnificently lampoons traditional science journalism.

What Martin Robbins does so expertly is show how shoddy and Mad Libs-esque science journalism can be when it is done poorly. Take practically any science piece in your local newspaper and you will various methods Robbins described in full view for all to see.

There are a large number of people that struggle for a career in this industry (myself included), and every bad piece placed on the news, read in the paper or put online tarnishes what hard-working writers are trying to achieve.

How can this be solved?

I am no expert, but supporting good science writing and communication is a great way to start. The same can be said for pointing out when science (or really any discipline) is tortured on the rack of bad reporting or writing. Read and share good articles with others, be aware of what constitutes good writing and/or reporting and never stop discussing about the fantastic science that is constantly going on around you.

Take a breath, relax and think to yourself – is this worth the effort?

If so, don’t be afraid to roll the dice and take the risk.

Is the juice worth the squeeze? Source

A Tasting Menu

In a few short days, I will be heading off to Science Online 2013 – an annual gathering of scientists, journalists, educators and more to discuss science communication in Raleigh, North Carolina. But, it is not your average conference, with presenters reading PowerPoint slides and talking at you. Science online is designed as an “unconference,” where there are no lectures or presentations, but sessions that encourage and are built on discussion.

I cannot wait to attend and meet up with people that I met last year: collaborators, Twitter friends, fellow writers and more. As cliche as it is to say, we are all like a big family at this conference. Everyone is respectful, kind and absolutely cuckoo for science (I even think that’s a requirement on the registration form).

Last year, I did a session with @DrRubidium, where we made people laugh (and think) using Mel Brooks movie clips to inspire and improve blogs. We heard nothing but good things about our session, which spawned numerous conversations with other attendees about future sessions – one of which came to fruition.

This year, I’m teaming up with @jeannegarb to discuss a very specific style of writing and storytelling: first person narrative. She is a fantastic person and writer, and I could not choose a better person to co-moderate with.

For those of you that follow my blog and my other writings, you will know that I’ve experimented with this format a bit.

When I was doing my Masters of Journalism, we were told to avoid using “I” in a piece of reporting, as we are supposed to be objective and not become part of the story. “We are storytellers, not story-makers,” my professors would say. In fact, the only time we were told to use first-person was during two specific assignments – one where we had to use first or third-person, and when we had to write an editorial. And it was hard to break the format that had been drilled into us over the course of the program. But, I found I enjoyed it.

After I graduated, I experimented with the format a bit more in my writings for Scientific American, using my voice to talk about black-footed ferrets, growing up as a twin and more. And those quickly became my most popular articles – the article about being an identical twin even got published in a book entitled “The Best Science Writing Online 2012” (you can order your very own copy here).

And what do Jeanne and I have in store?

For that, you’ll have to attend our session entitled “Scientific storytelling: Using personal narrative to communicate science” on Thursday January 31 from Noon – 1 pm in room 4. But if not, rest-assured that I will do a conference wrap up post, just like last year (which you can read here and here).

I hope to see you there!

My name is David, and I Am Science (AKA my origin story)

In the week since Science Online 2012 ended, there has been a lot of discussion over different social media platforms about the experience, what could be done differently, the highs and lows and most importantly, what could be discussed next year.

I’ve made a lot of new friends since the conference, and have already started discussing topics for next year.

But, this post isn’t going to be about that. This will be about something that came up after the conference by Kevin Zelnio.

Kevin wrote a post on his blog here about how he ended up in science and called it #IAmScience. In the post, he outlined how he ended up where he is today, and that not everyone takes the standard A – B path to end up involved in science. This one post spawned a whole host of other people online to share their stories, and this is mine.

I’ve talked on my blog before about how, as a child, I was obsessed with dinosaurs. That was my first real exposure to science and that there were cool jobs involved in the study of living (or extinct) things.

I was always a smart kid, and this gave me an outlet to channel my love of information and learning. I would consume books about dinosaurs by the bucket-load, and would beg my parents to take me to the museum again and again, just on the off-chance I’d see something new or learn a cool tidbit.

My parents obliged more often than not, and bought me books, videos, wooden fossil duplicates and more.

This passion for paleontology sustained me for many years, but it eventually gave way to something else: acting.

All the world’s a stage

My family, especially my dad and older sister, are movie buffs. We have seen just as many classics as current movies, and I grew up with this love of film and theatre. So, it really came as no surprise that I eventually stumbled into acting.

And boy, did I love it, especially acting in musicals.

My first role ever was in a summer camp production of Beauty and the Beast, where I played Belle’s horse, Phillipe. Those of you who know your Disney movies know that it was not a major role, but it was enough.

The following few years, I acted in a bunch of musicals in school, camp and beyond, even landing the main roles in a few of them. For more on my acting, you can see my post on LabSpaces here.

But science was always there.

Throughout middle school and high school, I continued to be fascinated by science. I’d do experiments, learn whatever I could, absorb knowledge like a sponge and tell everyone I met about all the cool things I learned. My aptitude was in biology, specifically, animal biology.

I loved learning everything I could about animals, from weird facts to behaviors to ecology and diet.

However, like all things, my love for biology was almost extinguished.

In grade 10 Biology, my teacher was horrible and sucked all the fun out of science. He gave the class so many problems that parents complained, but nothing ever changed.

Once, during a group lab, one of my friend’s aunts passed away, so he went to Vancouver for the funeral. Unbeknownst to us, he took all the lab material with him, so we could not hand it in.

We all got a zero.

After much hubbub and calls by all of our parents, the teacher eventually relented and gave us all what we deserved. But, the whole experience with that class made me realize that science just wasn’t fun anymore.

My parents, however, convinced me to take grade 11, just to “keep my options open,” and I am glad they did.

The teacher, Mr. T, was fantastic. He was funny, energetic, passionate and not afraid to answer complex questions. And my marks skyrocketed along with my interest.

I still remember, after getting 100% on our genetic test, I asked him about variation in sex chromosomes from sex-linked disorders. And, after class, using nothing but a pencil and paper, he explained to me about “crossing over” (where chromosomes occasionally touch and exchange whole portions of their genomes with each other).

That one explanation opened my eyes to a world of science that I never even thought about.

It was then my future was decided: I was going to be a vet, combining my love of animals and passion for science.

The times, they are a changin’

Veterinary school was never really an option, though, after a visit to the allergist.

My sister was allergic to fish, so we never had any in the house. But, when she went backpacking through Europe, my parents thought it was the ideal time.
And, let’s just say it didn’t go well.

The allergist said I was allergic to fish and needed to carry an Epi-Pen, as well as dropped the bomb that I had a mild allergy to dogs and cats. It was nothing serious, but enough that could warrant medication and potentially wear off.

“And I don’t know about you,” he said in a somber tone, “but I wouldn’t want someone operating on my dog or cat who had watery eyes and was sniffling.”

So, as quickly as the dream popped into my head, it was gone.
But then, my dad mentioned pursing a PhD, becoming an expert in a field and working in that area.

“And what do you love?” he said.
“Animals!” I responded enthusiastically.
“Well, that would be zoology then, wouldn’t it?”

Animal obsessed

So, that was my goal.

I went to university for biology and zoology, and loved it (even when I said I didn’t, which was often).

In my second year, I took the “Animals” course, and met a new professor called Dr. K. He was bright, engaging and really funny, so he was perfect for such a dense subject.

As the semester went on we got talking about our likes, dislikes, the course, my future, etc… and he became a mentor of sorts. He introduced me to different professors, encouraged me to take a variety of courses and helped steer my education in the way I wanted.

I even took his fish biology class in fourth year (luckily, there was no lab component).

To boost my resume, also in second year, I also started writing for the school newspaper. Nothing permanent, but I would write on occasion about cool research at the university, interesting things that were happening in biology around the world, and more. My favourite piece I ever wrote was an In Memorium piece to a hero of mine, Steve “Crocodile Hunter” Irwin, who perished in an accident with a stingray.

But the writing was always secondary to biology.

Then, during my fourth year, Dr. K approached me about doing research work in his lab.
But how, I asked, since he worked in a fish lab and I was deathly allergic?
As it turned out, he was looking to branch out to other animals, and would start up a whole area of the lab, just for me, using frogs as test animals.

How could I say no?

So, for a year, I worked there, adapting fish procedures for frogs, under the guise of an amazing grad student named H, and I loved it.

THIS was what I was meant to do, I said.

But once the experiment was over and the analysis began, I became listless. I didn’t like the sedentary being I was slowly becoming, by being attached to the lab bench every day performing the same chemical tests on tissues again and again. I loved the science and what I was doing, but I felt that what I was doing was not what I wanted.

A subtle shift

I realized this, as fate would have it, around Christmas of that year, when my grandfather passed away.

There was a moment, sitting in a chair at the retirement home where he had been living, where I asked myself “if I don’t want this, what else can I do?”

And then my sister did something.

She pulled out the latest article I had written for the school paper, and said that I’ve greatly improved as a writer.

“Huh, a writer,” I said to myself. “No one ever called me a writer before.”

Sure, English teachers and professors had complimented me on my writing, and my lab reports were always well done, but I figured that was because I read a lot.

So I thought about it while I continued to work at the lab.

Writing was something I never considered before, so I spoke to some professors, relatives and parents about it, and “journalism” kept popping up.

I could still learn about science, which I loved with a passion, and share it with others, which I had been doing ever since I was a little kid in the museum – science journalism seemed like a good fit.

So, crossing my fingers, I applied to some journalism schools in Canada for the Masters program, and got accepted by the most reputable one in the country.

It was a struggle going from science writing to writing about science, but I learned a lot and never strayed from my love of science.

Even though I am no longer attached to a lab bench, I am still tethered to science. I read copious amount of material, I blog and I share my love of science with an enthusiasm that knows no bounds.

I Am Science.

I Am Science from Mindy Weisberger on Vimeo.

Father’s Day Deluge

Happy father’s day!

I hope that you are finding a way to celebrate that suits you dad’s needs, whether it be a big affair at a fancy restaurant, a small brunch or just sitting around with friends and family remembering times long past.

This blog post will be a little different, just like this past week. There has been a lot of family stuff that has required my attention, so I have not been online as much as usual. But, a number of things have caught my eye this week, which I want to share and discuss with you.

The first is a recent publication of mine on Scientific American celebrating, what else, but the good (and a few bad) animal dads. After all, in the animal kingdom, many father’s do not do very much. In fact, they just inseminate the mother and wander off. But, in this article, the lovely Lauren Reid and I decided to showcase some truly magnificent examples of animal fathers picking up the slack and really showing off!

You can read the article here.

The next little bit I want to share with you is a blog post I stumbled upon last week, that was extremely well done. It was written by a fellow science writer, DeLene Beeland, who writes a great blog entitled Wild Muse who writes about evolution and ecology.

A recent post of hers was called Advice on Science Writing, and was extremely well done.

I get asked why I chose this field quite a bit, and my answers have slowly shifted from when I decided that was what I was going to do to actually doing it now. And it can be difficult to explain why you like doing something so much without sounding completely insane, as we all tend to do when we are passionate about what we do. In this post, DeLene perfectly encapsulates the difficulties of being a science journalist, but also the thrill.

Here are a few tidbits:

“It’s selfish, but writing about science allows me to learn with each and every story I work on, and that aspect is the fuel that keeps me running. It also gives me a small mouthpiece to communicate about issues I feel the general public ought to know more about: ecology, biological diversity and the affect of human development upon wildlife and natural systems.”

“The language of science is not always easily translated for lay audiences. And the more highly trained you are, the harder it may be for you to be cognizant of that gap. There are some rock stars that can straddle both worlds and the languages codified by each, but for the rest of us mortals, we need to study the language of popular media, the way stories are constructed and told, and how ideas are imparted in persuasive essays and objective news stories. There are patterns, hierarchies and formulas that work well, and it’s time well spent to analyze them, learn them, and harness them for your own work. Your audience, and your editors, will thank you.”

If you want to understand science writing and those that do it, do give the article a read. It’s extremely well-done, and doesn’t pull any punches with regards to the difficulty of the industry.

Finally, about a week ago, my dad pointed out an article to me on from The Toronto Star about an issue that I’ve spent a lot of time doing research and writing about: Invasive species.

Invasive species are animal that have been brought into a completely foreign habitat and thrived to a point of harming the local flora and fauna, and even causing extinction of native species. Examples are goats on the Galapagos islands, zebra mussels in the Great Lakes and the Nile Perch in Africa.

In Canada, there is a new threat: The Emerald Ash Borer or EAB.

Ugly little guy, isn’t he?

The insect traveled to the northern United States in the late 1990s from Asia, and completely decimated the ash tree population there back in 2002. And since then, the insects have been spreading into over 15 states and all over Southern Ontario.

The insect is a master at what it does, and that is killing ash trees. The larvae burrow into the tree and make their way in a serpentine pattern, cutting off supplies of the trees nutrients and killing it. It is akin to being slowly starved to death.

But this is old news, as the insect was found in Toronto as early as 2007 (far from its predicted arrival in 2022). What is new is what is going to be done about protecting the almost 900,000 ash trees in the Toronto area. The answer?

Nothing.

The city is not taking an preventative action, and instead focusing on replacing every tree with other species instead of battling the insect and letting up to 95 per cent of all the ash trees in Toronto die. Sadly, not much can be done for a tree once it is infected, and must be destroyed to prevent further spread.

There are preventative measures that can be taken, such as injecting a tree with the drug, TreeAzin, a biological pesticide. But Brian Hamilton, the Emerald Ash Borer Program Specialist for the Canadian Food Inspection Agency (CFIA), says that TreeAzin cannot save an already infected tree.

“Once injected, the chemical kills the larva under the bark and is absorbed into the leaves. And the double whammy is that, if an adult female EAB eats the leaves, she becomes sterile and cannot produce any offspring.”

While TreeAzin is a good solution for uninfected trees, it is extremely expensive to administer, and any time money is involved (and we’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars), the purse-strings tighten. A few other control methods are being explored in the United States, such as utilizing stingless wasps from Chinese forests as a natural predator of the EAB. However, this is just another example of introducing other (potentially less harmful) species to eliminate others in a foreign environment.

But is doing nothing, like Toronto is, the best option?

I should hope not.