Or: How to come out as a scientist to the public, your friends and family, when the latter paid for your degree and the former are paying for your current research, and all are slightly against the idea anyway because they were really hoping to get discounted wormers. Niche but translatable, like many PhDs!
Guest contributor Sophie Regnault
Sophie and a 3D model of a tuatara skeleton made from CT scans, that was one of the Wellcome Images 2015 winners.{credit}Alexander Stoll{/credit}
Having started my PhD in evolutionary biomechanics a couple of years ago after a brief stint as a vet, one of the biggest challenges I’ve found is people’s attitude to science – the teenage, kiss-your-teeth, you’re-not-my-real-dad attitude.
Inside the Ivory Tower (our lab is at ground level, so perhaps Ivory Bungalow) other post-grads accept that my work is (probably) worthwhile, or they are suffering enough imposter syndrome themselves not to care. On the outside, people sometimes think that what I do isn’t worth it at all. Questions like “How is that important?”, “Why aren’t you doing something that benefits society?”, “When are you going to stop being a perpetual student and start contributing?” are responses to my job description.
Encountering this public attitude (at pubs, weddings, children’s birthday parties) is often the first experience we get of communicating science, and it’s an ideal practice ground. Being able to communicate science well is a vital skill because good communication perpetuates the value of science in society, defends funding, awakens new generations, and ultimately keeps knowledge alive (plus makes people think my job is worthwhile!). Continue reading →
