The Stories We Tell

Scientists are often reluctant, if not downright obstinate, about using storytelling in science communication. I think we feel this way because we somehow believe that science information should not need any ‘dressing up’ to make it palatable to an audience. I felt this way at one time but changed my mind when I saw the power of storytelling. As I explained in the last post, a story can overcome extreme distaste about a particular topic and even change the viewer’s overall perception of the subject.

But there is more that stories can do for those of us in science.

We can use stories to not only make our science more palatable to others, we can change stereotypes about science and scientists by telling our unique stories—especially through video. I’ve been pondering stereotypes in science for some time now, especially as it relates to women in science. Despite much effort by many organizations, negative stereotypes persist in the public’s mind, which can dissuade students from going into science. The old-fashioned image of an old, white male with frizzy white hair in a wrinkled lab coat is what the average person thinks of, even though there are exceptions on TV and the Internet (Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Brian Cox). Women in particular suffer from negative stereotyping, which has prompted numerous reports about why so few women choose science as a career (there are many reports, but here’s one and here is a series of articles in Nature); recognition of the problem has led to various efforts to attract more girls to science fields (here’s an example).

I think the efforts to attract girls and minorities to science are laudable but that they will not be effective unless we can overturn those negative stereotypes that dissuade students from considering a career in science in the first place. Those of us in science, particularly women and other minorities, can help overturn stereotypes by telling our stories and showing those outside (and inside) science fields that scientists are a diverse group, that science is an exciting and rewarding career, and that anyone can do science.

I connected the two topics, stereotypes in science and storytelling, when I watched a video: The Danger of a Single Story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. She describes how we develop inaccurate and narrow views about other people or countries when we hear only a single story about them. Essentially, she’s describing how stereotypes arise and persist. Take a look and then we’ll discuss these ideas in relation to stereotypes in science:

Ms. Adichie describes how her perceptions of the world were molded by the literature she read—literature that she found fascinating and memorable. She describes how as a budding writer, she began writing stories that were about the characters she had read about—white, living in temperate climates, and preferring ginger beer—even though she was Nigerian and had quite different experiences. Even after she realized how that narrow view had delayed discovery of her authentic cultural voice, she found herself succumbing to other stereotypes.

I thought about the examples Ms. Adichie used in her TED talk, which reminded me of the mad scientist stereotype that persists probably because of a single memorable story—told over and over again—which can be traced back to Mary Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein (1818). One could argue that there were precursors to the ‘mad scientist’ in Shelley’s novel; however, the average person on the street likely only knows the story of Frankenstein, which has been repeated in multiple movies since the original 1931 version. Moreover, the ‘mad scientist’ stereotype crops up repeatedly in popular film—from Dr. Strangelove to Dr. Curt Connors (The Lizard) in The Amazing Spiderman. Stories about mad scientists apparently resonate with people and have created an indelible image in the public’s mind. The average person, who has never met a scientist, has only such stereotypes to guide their perceptions about what type of people become scientists or what it is like to be a scientist. Even students who are interested in science may be unclear about what life in a scientific field is like.

A few educators are recognizing the need for storytelling—that is, telling stories that fire up students’ imaginations—to attract more students to STEM fields, especially girls. We scientists can also help by showing what it’s like to do science. And using video is a very effective means for showing what scientists look like and how they go about doing science (however, see this post for how not to do it). Used correctly, video can be an effective recruitment tool by showing real scientists at work:

This video is ostensibly about an expedition to study the Agulhas Current, but it really is about how women can be successful in a field like oceanography. The video makes it clear that women are not only capable of being oceanographers, they find it exciting and fulfilling. This message is driven home by not only showing a female in the chief scientist role leading the research cruise but by featuring numerous other women working in various positions such as graduate students, data analysts, oceanographic technologists, and ship’s mates and technicians. The interview with the captain reiterated the key role that female scientists and crew play in the success of the cruise and that their presence is now commonplace on such research cruises. The video also makes an important point about female role models who are needed to show younger women that it is possible to make it in a field that may be dominated by men or that involves intimidating work. The video’s message is summed up by the chief scientist who says, “Why should men have all the fun?”

I can’t imagine a girl watching this video and not being impressed with the idea of a career in oceanography. In fact, a video very much like this one that I saw in high school motivated me to want to study marine science. Even though I was discouraged from going into science by almost everyone (this was the 1950-60s), the vision I got of a life in science from that film kept me going. Any scientist, especially if you are a female or other minority, can make a difference by creating videos that show what real scientists look like and how someone can have an amazing career in science.

Perhaps if enough of us tell our stories, the public’s image of the mad (white, male) scientist will fade and be replaced with a more accurate one.

Silver Linings, Kurt Vonnegut, and Telling Science Stories

I am totally uninterested in sports and would rather poke a stick in my eye than watch anysilverliningsplaybook_synopsis_klmckee type of game—basketball, football, or baseball. The only thing worse for me than watching team sports is listening to people talk about team sports (and sports fans certainly like to talk about it). So it may be somewhat surprising to hear that two of my favorite movies in recent years have sports themes: Moneyball and Silver Linings Playbook (for a synopsis of these films, click boxes). I’ve watched both of these movies several times and enjoyed each viewing more than the previous one. They are now on my list of all-time favorite movies, along with Fargo, Alien, and Gone with the Wind (think true heroines, a rarity in Hollywood).moneyball_synopsis_klmckee

My disinterest in sports is not unlike the attitude of the average person on the street towards science. I can’t name popular sports figures (LeBron who?) and know next to nothing about sports statistics—and don’t want to. Similarly, most people do not recognize the names of well-known scientists (other than Einstein), and many exhibit little understanding of general scientific inquiry (how to conduct an experiment, for example). Moreover, certain science topics, such as climate change or stem cell research, have been imbued with controversy and doubt. To counteract such strong negative reactions to scientific topics, there needs to be something powerful to hold the viewer’s attention. Mere facts and figures won’t do it.

Of course, my two movie examples (and the books they are based upon) are not just about baseball or football. They each tell a compelling, yet familiar story. The stories are so compelling that they totally overcome my dislike of anything that is about sports statistics or that features sports fanatics. The stories even made me sympathetic to sports fans’ fascination with their teams and statistics.

That’s the power of storytelling.

There has been a lot of emphasis recently on storytelling in science— how it is important to tell a story when delivering a science message (see Randy Olson post). Stories help us connect with an audience and also make our science information more memorable. However, most of us—scientists, that is—have trouble with the concept of storytelling. We are suspicious of this whole storytelling business. It sounds too much like…well, exaggeration or misdirection. We prefer facts and figures and logic and think that everyone else should as well. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your viewpoint), the rest of the world does not think like us. Facts and data fall on deaf ears, but a story grabs and holds the otherwise disinterested viewer.

Scientists also have trouble with the mechanics of storytelling, which seems so alien to how we normally talk about science. In our rush to inform and educate the viewer, we forget that not everyone is as fascinated with the data or our topic as we are. So to reach others with our science videos, we must learn to present our information in a way that resonates with the viewer. And telling a story is an effective means of making people pay attention and remember our message.

In this post, I thought I would turn to an expert storyteller for some insights. Kurt Vonnegut was not only a great American writer but thought a great deal about the mechanics of storytelling. He developed a series of graphs that show the distinct patterns of some of the more popular storylines. These graphs plot the shape of stories, about which Vonnegut stated, “There’s no reason why the simple shapes of stories can’t be fed into computers.” In other words, stories can be analyzed and categorized, which helps us better understand how to construct a story and how we can apply these shapes to tell our science stories.

The video below shows an excerpt from a lecture Vonnegut gave in which he explains the graphs for three popular storylines.

Vonnegut’s graphs tell us that many seemingly dissimilar stories repeat familiar patterns—patterns that we recognize, if not consciously, at least on a subconscious level. How does this help us with telling science stories? Well, if we do try to use stories in our science messages, we might be more successful if their shape matches one of the patterns deeply ingrained in our audience’s psyche. For example, often our research experiences resemble the ‘Man in a Hole’ pattern. We embark on a study only to run into problems with a faulty instrument….or while on a field trip, our boat breaks down and we fail to collect our samples. We find ourselves in a deep, deep hole, perhaps running out of grant money and time. In the process of dealing with these setbacks, however, we make an observation that ultimately leads to an important discovery. We end up with a paper in Science or Nature and a healthy grant that will fund us for the next five years. Everyone can relate to that story. And, of course, we would need to give the scientific details of that discovery, so that the viewer could fully understand what had happened—not unlike the way Moneyball explained baseball statistics and how sabermetrics revolutionized the sport.

Most scientific investigations have a backstory that is never told. In fact, we strive to hide those details when we prepare our manuscripts. We leave out the missteps, the failed experiments, and the negative results. We don’t report the preliminary trials that were not properly replicated or that were terminated prematurely due to equipment failure. We don’t describe the heat, rain, biting insects, or other environmental conditions we endured to collect our samples. We also usually don’t tell how we figured out a particularly vexing problem or fabricated an inexpensive but effective device to collect our samples. We don’t express in scholarly works the exhilaration we feel when we discover a new species or explain what motivated us to seek a cure for cancer. However, the stories of how we face and overcome multiple obstacles or what passions drive us are not only interesting, they reveal something about the nature of scientific investigation and of scientists. Moreover, people really pay attention to such stories and remember them.

In designing science videos, especially for a general audience, we can learn something from Kurt Vonnegut and other master storytellers. The next time you watch a movie, see if you can identify the story pattern. For more shapes of stories from Vonnegut, here’s an infographic.

Can Scientists Be Taught to Talk and Act Like Normal People?

Dr. Caruthers is a scientist who studies large river deltas AND wants to share her science with policy-makers and the general public, BUT does not know how to craft her message so that it is understood and appreciated by non-specialists; THEREFORE, she decides to attend a workshop designed to help her learn how to create and deliver an engaging story about her field of study.

The question is, can Dr. Caruthers unlearn years of training and become a more engaging communicator? She has been taught a certain way of explaining science, which works if she is speaking to colleagues. However, scientists and science educators must frequently explain their work to non-specialists (students, policy-makers, the media, the general public) who don’t necessarily appreciate a “just the facts” approach.

Of course, Dr. Caruthers does not exist, and that is a fictional narrative I created using the

Randy Olson and Brian Palermo at LSU workshop

Randy Olson and Brian Palermo

ABT (AND, BUT, THEREFORE) template, which is part of a storytelling system developed by Randy Olson and his colleagues, Brian Palermo and Dorie Barton. For three days, professors, staff, and students at Louisiana State University and Southern University heard presentations and attended “Master Classes”, led by Olson and Palermo on the LSU campus. The goal of their workshops is to help scientists, educators, students, and others tell better science stories. They’ve written a book (Connection: Hollywood Storytelling Meets Critical Thinking) in which they lay out their formula for creating more compelling science messages. They’ve also created an app called “Connection Storymaker”, which I’ve described previously, that provides an electronic template to guide the user through the steps involved in structuring a good story.

I attended the two hour seminar held on February 7 and then one of the “Master Classes” on February 9 (thanks to Gene T. for letting me register late). I’ll describe these and give my impressions below. But first, an introduction to “storytelling”.

Storytelling: What It Is and Isn’t

When scientists hear the term, storytelling, they often think that it means fabrication, exaggeration, or “tweaking” the facts to tell a better story. However, that is a very narrow interpretation. Storytelling is simply a description of events using words, images, or other means for the purpose of entertainment, education, or teaching morals. It might involve a fictional account, but not necessarily. I think the fear that scientists have is that storytelling involves cherry-picking of facts and data to tell a skewed story. However, our scientific papers are actually formatted to tell a story: This is my hypothesis (Introduction); this is how I tested it (Methods); this is what I found (Results); this is what I think it means (Discussion); and this is how it fits into the bigger picture (Conclusions). This traditional story formula is one that scientists expect and understand. However, this structure won’t work well for non-scientific audiences. And that’s where storytelling comes in.

Because of the poor connotations associated with storytelling, Olson and others now suggest the use of the term, “narrative”. I’ll have more to say about this in another post. For now, it is sufficient to understand that storytelling or narrative is a means of conveying science information in a way that is interesting, appealing, and memorable to most humans.

The Seminar

The seminar was a joint presentation by Randy Olson and Brian Palermo. Olson is a former marine biologist who left academia to become a filmmaker and author. Palermo is an improvisational actor and instructor in Hollywood. They talked a bit about their storytelling collaboration and then covered some of the basics of storytelling described in their book. The central message of the presentation was that scientists and others can learn to use narrative structure to develop more effective ways to communicate science, especially to broad audiences. Olson described the concept of using a simple narrative structure to engage even those totally disinterested in a scientific topic. Palermo elaborated on the importance of how the message is delivered and described how improvisational exercises can help scientists appear less “cerebral” and be more approachable and likable. Their presentation was punctuated with some interactive audience exercises, which served as a preview of what would be done in the smaller workshops.

Before and after the seminar, I talked to a few people and asked them why they came. Several said they had never heard of the speakers and did not really know what to expect; they came because they were curious. Others said they had heard Olson speak previously and wanted to hear more. A few, like me, were already on board with the idea that scientists need better communication skills and were there to learn and participate. I was particularly curious about how an academic audience would react to the idea of storytelling and how easily the workshop participants could learn to use storytelling techniques.

randyolson_lsuseminar_klmckee

Randy Olson seminar at LSU

My impression was that the audience found the seminar interesting and informative. Most seemed to be open-minded and receptive to the ideas presented. However, all were perhaps not clear on whether or how the information might relate to them. I know some have misgivings about the whole storytelling concept (apparently a common reaction among scientists and academicians) or are not interested at all in broader science communication. And they also may have some concerns, as I do, about when and how to use storytelling techniques with different audiences, e.g., general public versus scientists.

Both Olson and Palermo were generous with their time and continued talking with participants during a post-seminar mixer and over dinner that evening.

The Master Classes-ABT Exercise

Three Master classes were held over the weekend following the seminar. These sessions were divided into two parts, each led by Olson and Palermo. The first part focused mainly on how to use the ABT approach to develop a narrative. Each of the participants had been instructed to bring an example that they had developed using the ABT template. What this exercise confirmed for me was that most scientists and science students have no clue how to craft a compelling narrative. Most of the people in my workshop came with narratives that were too cerebral and jargony and not very compelling, despite having used the ABT template.

Let me hasten to add that that’s exactly how I would have written a narrative about my science before I got involved in science communication. We get so focused on our specialties and are so familiar with the information that we cannot see that others may find it incomprehensible. As Olson pointed out to the group, scientists have blinders on. During the exercise, he had the participants read their narratives out loud and then tried to help them focus in on the compelling story hidden within all the scientific mumbo-jumbo. Only one person successfully came up with a compelling narrative on his own (he reworked his after hearing some of the discussion). For everyone else, it was going to take more thought and work.

From my perspective, I could see what needed to be changed in others’ narratives to make them more appealing and understandable. However, I know that I would have difficulty seeing my own narrative with such clarity. I’m simply too close to it. It also struck me during this exercise that it really takes someone else (preferably totally unfamiliar with your topic) to hear your narrative and help you see it from another perspective. When people were asked questions about their narrative or for specific details, a much better story emerged. That was a big eye-opener for me—that many scientists need to solicit (and pay attention to) feedback when developing their narratives. Just plugging their words into a formula is not necessarily going to produce a good story—at least not right off.

However, I’m afraid that scientists will resist this type of input, especially from non-scientists (we are all such know-it-alls, especially when it comes to our own work). But we need to have the blinders ripped off. We need to realize that when it comes to communication, we are not necessarily the experts. That does not mean that we should accept without question a new way of doing things—just that we should keep an open mind and consider other approaches. We especially need to get input from our target audience to help guide our narratives.

Although I find the storytelling approach useful, I also think there are some subtleties to using such techniques in conveying science information that have not been fully explored. Communication with non-specialists, especially the general public, definitely requires some type of narrative approach. For professional audiences, however, one must be a bit more circumspect. I think it’s possible to give a scientific presentation and use a narrative structure to capture and hold the audience’s interest. Putting the research into a historical perspective is one example. However, there will be people who will be highly critical of any scientific presentation that deviates from the traditional format. For an established scientist, such an approach might be tolerated, or even seen as creative. For a student or junior scientist, however, telling a story may be a riskier move if seen as a sign of inexperience or manipulation. Another issue is trying to tell a complex story in simple terms (as Olson explains in this post, Beware the Simple Storyteller). I may explore these aspects in future posts.

In summary, the workshop gave people a chance to try out the narrative approach, but it will take practice to use it effectively and appropriately.

The Master Classes-Improv Exercises

The second part of the workshop was led by Brian Palermo, who is a dynamic teacher and motivator. He took us through some basic improvisational exercises that thankfully were not too embarrassing. For example, we were asked to pair up and display an emotion that we were assigned (confident, knowledgeable) using only body language to see if our partners could guess it. The idea was to illustrate that how we think we are being perceived by others may be totally wrong (we may think we look confident, when others interpret our body language as arrogant or creepy).

Other exercises also were designed to get us “out of our heads”. I enjoyed doing these exercises, and most of the other participants seemed to also. They were meant to give us a taste of what it’s like to be spontaneous (a foreign concept to many scientists).

Improv can help you:

1. listen better (and connect with people)

2. become more aware of what signals your body language is sending (I’m confident speaking to a large audience vs. I’m an arrogant know-it-all)

3. shift our perspectives (from inside our heads to our audience’s)

4. reconnect with our emotions and more naturally display them (for example, showing enthusiasm for our work)

5. think on our feet (might come in handy during oral exams or during Q&A at a conference presentation)

6. react quickly to deal with the unexpected (like when the bulb on the projector burns out during your job interview seminar)

7. learn how to use humor effectively (note, however, that this is not a suggestion to tell a silly joke or turn your conference talk into a stand-up routine)

8. quiet your mental critic, allowing you to be more relaxed and less self conscious (very helpful for those with stage fright)

9. appear to be a normal human being (if you tend to talk and act like Mr. Spock on Star Trek)

I could go on, but you get the idea. Being an introvert, I find such exercises challenging but helpful. If you suffer from social anxiety and especially stage fright, improv might be one way to overcome it. One estimate puts fear of public speaking at 40% of the American population in 2001, just behind fear of snakes at 51%. I’ll have more to say about such fears (especially fear of the camera and how to overcome it) in upcoming blog posts.

Well, if you are still reading (I did not intend to go on so long), I’ll sum up by saying that scientists and science educators can benefit from understanding narrative structure and how to use it to convey a more engaging science message. The system developed by Olson and colleagues is simple and straightforward because it distills what is actually a complicated process down to an easy-to-remember formula. However, simple does not mean that it is easy to apply. If you have the opportunity to take one of these workshops, it will give you an introduction to these methods. However, for most of us, successful implementation will take a lot of practice.

I’m Not Interesting, But My Research Is

wesIf you are a scientist or graduate student, it’s likely that you agree with the sentiment expressed in the title of this post. What’s also likely is that you are totally wrong.

What other people find most interesting and what will hold their attention is a story—what motivated you to study armadillo penises, how you tried to impress your graduate advisor and almost destroyed his lab, or that a biology laboratory has an intricate social dynamic that eclipses its research complexities.

You can hear those stories and others at The Story Collider, which is a collection of podcasts by scientists, science journalists, and other interesting people, who talk about how science has affected them. The effort was co-founded by Ben Lillie and Brian Wecht. Theirs is part of a larger effort to help scientists connect with a larger audience beyond their peers. I’ve talked about this topic previously because it is a key concept in making videos about science. When someone trained in science tries to explain science to others, they often make the mistake of focusing on facts, data, and statistics and forget that what grabs people’s attention and holds it is a story.

The take-home message you will get from listening to a few of these podcasts is that it’s possible to get those science facts across by telling a story about how your work made a difference in someone’s life—yours or someone else’s. Another thing these podcasts do that many science videos fail to do is they make scientists seem likeable, interesting, and even funny. That is an important accomplishment. People won’t listen to your message or watch your video if they don’t like you. Telling a story makes a scientist sound human.

We can’t always tell a personal story, of course. Sometimes it just won’t work for a particular video project. Also, some of us may be constrained by our organizations as to the format, formality, and content of our videos. However, storytelling techniques can help us craft better science videos. I’ll talk more about that in later posts. For now, try listening to a few podcasts at the Story Collider to better understand how stories can make a science message come alive.

In the TEDMED 2013 video I’m embedding below, you’ll hear from Ben Lillie (co-founder and Director) and Erin Barker (senior producer) of Story Collider who talk about storytelling and why it’s so important in getting across a message about science.