I never turn down the opportunity to tell someone about T-cells. Family, friends, friends-of-friends and Trader Joe’s cashiers who ask about my research receive a fairly complete narrative—a general description of what T-cells are, the specific T-cell behaviors that we study, and even a bit about what we measure in the lab. I explain that although we are not studying a disease directly, we are investigating the rules that govern T-cell activity, which clinical scientists and drug manufacturers need to understand when they design new treatments.
While I do look for signs of boredom, annoyance or sleep in my listeners and respond accordingly, I find that most people are quite receptive to a three-to-five-minute explanation. The goal is not to turn every acquaintance into a T-cell expert, but rather to give them a slightly more concrete picture of the immune system, and a sense of the scope and scale of my research.
Not all of my colleagues share my yen for such detailed descriptions. Many assume that people outside of science don’t want to hear about the nuances of research, and only want a one-word summary: “I study cancer/the brain/tuberculosis.” However, as today’s political climate has made clear, it is crucial to reach out to the public and explain the basic mechanics of our scientific investigations.
Our current economic crisis has politicians looking eagerly for government-funded programs to slash. And what better to cut than something the public doesn’t understand, and sees as elitist and out of touch? Ignorant herself of the vast contributions of Drosophila genetics to human health, Sarah Palin aimed to capitalize on voters’ disconnect with science when she mocked “projects having little or nothing to do with the public good…things like fruit fly research.” Meanwhile, initiatives such as YouCut galvanize citizens to seek out and vote down National Science Foundation funding for research projects that “are wasteful or that you don’t think are a good use of taxpayer dollars,” reinforcing hostilities against science by pointing to “useless-sounding” projects presented out of context.
The call for vigilance against “wasteful” research thrives off of people’s assumption that science is only worthwhile if it leads directly and rapidly to cures and technologies. Popular depictions of science—through fictional heroes or sensationalized reporting of research findings—do not help. It is up to researchers themselves to explain why the path to a cure is not a single dramatic leap, but rather a long series of tiny steps that often begins in a worm or a fly.
It is also necessary to quell the fear and animosity that can accompany the misunderstanding of science. When one views science as a mysterious, removed and elite process, one may feel like science is something to protect one’s self from, rather than to engage with. This mindset is not only detrimental to the funding of science, but is also disempowering to students, and to patients and their families , whose lives might be enriched by the ability to ask a few key questions. It is therefore important to give people concrete examples of modern scientific research, and of the people doing it. By humanizing the research process, we can help turn the tide of anti-science sentiment and maximize intellectual and technological progress for scientists and non-scientists alike.
Many adults do not have the time, patience or interest to listen to or read about current research. While my cocktail party crusades in science education shall never cease, I aspire to share science on a larger and more impacting scale. In the last year, I have had the opportunity to join the After School STEM Mentoring Program and the National Lab Network, both of which provide an excellent and accessible framework for science outreach. Specifically, these programs give scientists a chance to interact with a bigger and more rewarding audience: K-12 students. In my next two posts, I will discuss how these programs took me From Bench to Classroom, and what I learned along the way.
