A Botanist In Newspaperland

Ask a scientist about the media and you will get an opinion. But what do they actually know about it? They see the products, newspapers, TV programs, radio broadcasts, and may even have had their own work featured at some time, more or less accurately. But their conception of how these things actually come into being usually is extremely hazy, and the media itself does little to dispel the veil over this creative process. The British Association for the Advancement of Science coordinates a program that hopes to remove some of this ignorance. Instead of allowing scientists to study the media as sociologists have done for years, or just complain about science coverage, why not give some scientists the chance to be media people and see how they make out? Like many human activities, from driving a car to adjusting the pH of a solution, it is difficult to appreciate subtle aspects of something unless you have done it yourself. That’s how last autumn I ended up hanging around the London offices of one of Britain’s serious newspapers, the Guardian. I spent most of my time watching and talking, trying to condense years of newspaper experience into a few weeks. I also tried to write a few news stories. An assiduous newspaper reader, I had accepted the patchy, confused science coverage with its concentration on medicine, black holes, psychology and environmental disasters. The contrast between this and the more informed articles on theater, cinema and art had always surprised me. I hoped to bring away a set of rules and descriptions along the lines of a textbook. It would define news, give its characteristics, describe its normal habitat, and state what to do if you encountered it. I quickly realized that this was unrealistic. Instead, I came away with a collection of descriptions and observations of how a group of people do their job and a better appreciation of why science appeals as it does in newspapers. One thing I realized early on is that science news has to compete on its merits with all other news. The story has to be a good read or it will not be assigned enough column space to appear in full. Journalists pick up a variety of tricks to help them in their competition for space. For example, try to use names the editor has heard of like Einstein or Fred Hoyle. Most science journalists must be generalists. They have to cover all of science, from basic research to technology and medicine Imagine yourself having to write a brief, in teresting account today of work in a metallurgy department, tomorrow in pharmacology, and the day after in marine biology. To whom would you speak? How would you put their work into context? How well could you explain things you don’t understand, and didn’t find very interesting to boot? Science news generally is scattered throughout the paper and suffers from an ongoing problem in our culture: science is seen as difficult, boring and not part of everyday life. A politician can cheerfully say that he does not know what a becquerel is, but he would never admit difficulty remembering the source of "To be or not to be." This treatment contrasts with coverage of, for example, arts and finance. Tradition dictates that a quality newspaper will have daily pages devoted to these, edited and sub-edited by specialists who can assume a certain level of knowledge in their readers. This allows them to use technical words without explanation and may lead to more careful handling during the production stages. What is science news? In a way, both the discovery of high-temperature superconductors and the death of a child in a fire blamed on foam furniture are science stories. This is where the idiosyncrasies of the journalists come in. None of my colleagues at the Guardian admits to much of a formal science background, but they are all fascinated enthusiasts. There is no written policy of what should appear each day, merely a general ethos of what is suitable. The reporter and editor have initial control over which stories to cover. It’s important, too, to remember that journalists see each article as part of a continuing story. It is not a definitive statement because something more will happen tomorrow. Indeed, the need to fill 40 or so full pages six days a week dictates the manner in which many of the decisions are made. The deadlines for the newspages at the Guardian are from 5 to 8:00 p.m. Journalists often only commit themselves in late morning to a story that must be written by 5:00 p.m. Some stories may not stand up, others will only break in the afternoon. Thus, there are only a few hours in which to gather facts, check them and write the story. The ability to absorb and assess facts rapidly and then type an 800-word piece straight off is impressive when you see it in action. The corollary is that most things are done in a rush. It’s amazing there aren’t more mistakes. My experience has made me more tolerant of how newspapers present science. I’ve also learned not to take them too seriously. Unlike a scientific journal, newspapers do not intend to be definitive statements for posterity. He also found that it’s not so much that newspapers ignore science as that other interest groups better understand how to deal with the competition for space. The artistic community, for example, besieges newspapers for interviews and reviews, and the cultural background of the newspaper staff ensures a favorable response. Politicians have to cope with the media to survive, so they learn to provide the 30-second answer and the memorable quote. Most scientists do not want anything to do with newspapers and have no interest in their requirements. An instant comment that appears the next day is a complete novelty to them. But if scientists want to improve their image in the media and public perceptions of science, they will have to do it themselves. And, as I discovered, they will find journalists who are eager to help. Jones is with the department of botany at the University of Liverpool, P0. Box 147, Liverpool L69 3BX, UK.

A Botanist In Newspaperland

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