What Science Journalists Wish Astrobiologists Knew About Journalism

Some science writers have a science degree, or even past research experience, in addition to their communications tool kit. That means they can almost talk expert-to-expert when they interview scientists.

But astrobiology is such a big interdisciplinary umbrella that a writer with a background in, say, chemistry might have to learn planetary science or biology really quickly to fully cover a story about planetary protection, or uses of space resources.

The point is that when astrobiologists talk to journalists, they should expect to speak somewhat different languages. I know this from personal experience. The first assignment I bombed in science writing grad school was one I expected to ace easily. I had arrived at UC Santa Cruz's science communication program with a fresh bachelor's degree in astronomy, but most of our earlier assignments were on topics such as algal blooms and chili peppers—things I knew nothing about. When we finally got to write about galaxy simulations, I was thrilled. I know what is important here, I thought. I got this.

I did not. That was the only story my advisor asked me to rewrite entirely. I had gotten lost in the details of how the simulation worked, and forgot to focus on what was cool about the galaxies.

That was my first hard lesson in the difference in approach between scientists and journalists. In the nearly 10 years since then, I have seen how that difference can make us feel like adversaries. But we have more in common than not.

A better understanding of how journalism works and what journalists do can help narrow the divisions between our fields. I conducted an informal, nonscientific poll of my fellow science writers to find out what we wish scientists knew about our work. A few themes emerged:

– You can ask us questions, too.

I saw a talk recently by Boston Globe journalist Eric Moskowitz, who interviewed survivors of the Boston Marathon bombing. He said that most people do not interact with journalists regularly, and do not know how journalism works. We might be the first reporter they have ever spoken to, which means we represent all of journalism to them. Reporters should be conscious of that. Giving the source a chance to ask questions puts everyone more at ease.

Since then, I have been more careful about telling scientists what to expect when I talk to them. If the reporter interviewing you does not volunteer that, ask. Before the interview begins, you can ask about when statements are on or off the record, or how journal embargo policies are handled. After, you can ask us to summarize what we have heard to make sure we are on the same page.

This practice can be especially helpful to researchers studying life elsewhere in the Solar System, who might be reasonably worried about hype or misinterpretation. It is okay to ask a reporter what angle we are taking, or what happens after we hang up the phone.

– Our duty is to the reader, not to sources.

The reader probably has little to no background in your field. That means we might choose a different angle to focus the story on, like my graduate assignment that should have been more about galaxies than simulations. We might use less precise language to avoid jargon. We might not name all your collaborators or your funding sources or institutional affiliations. We cannot do a complete literature review in every news story; we give just enough background to make the news make sense.

That is not out of a lack of respect for you or the science. It is because we have limited space to tell the story; readers have limited memory for concepts and characters. It is also not a better or worse way to present the same information. It is just different.

We also might ask basic, stupid, or irrelevant-sounding questions. That is not because we do not know what we are talking about, or we cannot use Google—by the time we talk to you, we usually already know a lot about your work. We have read your article and your university website and previous coverage of your work, if it is out there.

But we want to hear it from you. We are trying to draw out details in your own unscripted words. I learned quickly that if I told sources I have a background in physics, they would start talking to me in physics language, and I would end up with zero usable quotes. Stories require personal details, scene-setting, and color. So do not be afraid to let some emotion show. It makes the final story much richer, which ultimately makes people care more about your work.

– We want to get things right.

Readers love extraterrestrials, but maybe not in the same way astrobiologists do. I know many scientists have been burned by a reporter's perceived mischaracterization of their work. I suspect that might apply especially to those who study anything that could lead to “aliens” in the headline, although I do not have statistics on it.

We do not like it when that happens any more than you do. Scientists and journalists are both on a quest for truth, and we both have rules and processes in place to protect objectivity and prevent bias.

Part of that includes vetting our sources—making sure the research we cover is from reputable journals, the methods are sound, and the conclusions are reasonable. (To echo a previous point: You can vet us, too. If you do not like the way a publication has written about astrobiology in the past, you do not have to talk to them.)

The vetting process often includes getting a comment from an outside researcher to discuss the quality and significance of the study we are covering—a kind of peer review in miniature. If a journalist asks you to comment on a study that is not yours, they are asking you to help maintain the overall quality of science journalism. If you do not have time, that is okay—maybe suggest someone else the journalist could contact.

It is also okay to say you think the study is terrible. The journalist might decide not to cover it based on your review. It is frustrating when a source pans an article but asks not to be quoted, though. If a study has drawbacks or caveats, the readers deserve to know that. Those caveats carry a lot more weight coming from you than from us.

But the rules usually do not include letting a source read the entire story before publication. This is one area where journalists differ from communications officers at universities or other institutions like NASA. Communications officers often do check full drafts with the scientist for approval, but their job is to promote your work.

For journalists, checking a complete story with a source is an ethical issue. If a political reporter lets sources approve a story or change quotes before going to press, that would create the appearance of the journalist being in the source's pocket, and damage credibility. The same thing applies to science journalism. The rules vary from publication to publication, but often the most a reporter can offer is to read back direct quotes to check for accuracy, not send the whole story for approval.

Still, the pursuit of objective truth is the area where scientists and journalists have the most in common. Many of us learned this cliché in journalism school: “If your mother says she loves you, check it out.” There is no fact so obvious that it cannot be wrong. Scientists are trained to check everything, especially things you think you know for sure. So are we.

So talk to us. Help us tell the public what you do, why it matters, why Congress and foundations should fund it. Ultimately, we all agree on wanting to explore the Universe.

Lisa Grossman is the astronomy reporter at Science News magazine.