Abstract
Similarly themed books just out on the market are aimed at the general public or concerned citizens, whereas this one specifically speaks to scientists and gives them a slap on the hand. Olson maintains that scientists are not communicating to the rest of the world in an appropriate manner, and:
“Effective communication is an essential part of science, for at least two reasons. First, if nobody hears about your work, you might as well have never done it. And second, especially in today's world, if you don't communicate your research effectively, there are many people around who will communicate it for you, and when they do, it will probably be skewed in order to support whatever agenda they have.”
This is not a new revelation, and several recent books point out this disparity. However, this book takes a different approach—it does not try to prove the underlying science to a skeptical or uninformed audience. Instead, Olson practices exactly what he preaches about successful communication. He immediately draws in the reader with his personal experiences, using stories to make his points. Olson tells us what “the scientists” do wrong and then how to remedy it, more or less. The book starts off, for example, with Olson's near-fatal comment in acting class that he is, “not feeling anything.” This is the crux of the scientist vs. communication problem. Do not expect pages of facts and references to studies—this is not that kind of book. And, do not expect to be underlining text, as you will be too engrossed in the storytelling for that kind of focus.
According to Olson, scientists prefer to let the facts speak for themselves, which is not enough in today's society. He maintains that the perceived positivity of spontaneity and the negativity of critical thinking appear to be complete opposites, yet both are necessary in effective communication. Olson's main premise is the “four organs theory.” According to the theory, the best way to connect with the mass audience is to move information processing out of the head (a scientist's favorite place) and into the heart (sincerity), the gut (humor and intuition), and in a perfect world, the lower organs with sex appeal. Yes, this is a great way to get the attention of the masses and, speaking for myself, science types as well. But some things are not sexy, funny, or even heartfelt, no matter what perspective one uses (particulate matter pollution and the superconducting supercollider come to mind). However, Olson admits this type of lower-body communication is not what most scientists signed up for. The solution? Hire other people who are trained to be the intermediary communicators, who can make it funny, sexy (?), and heartfelt.
The author's style is quite informal, and although Olson seems to jet off in several directions at times, overall he is easy to read and clear in his message. Tell it, tell it again, and cap off by telling it once more, seems to be Olson's effective credo. Occasionally, it seems like he trying a little too hard to speak in the cool vernacular, like where he tells the reader, “Um, yeah. Right, dude.” Dude, that can actually produce a negative effect in science types! Olson also maintains that if you really know your subject, you can internalize it so that it comes naturally, without thinking, and you can apply sincerity, humor, and appeal to your message intuitively. I believe that … in a perfect world. But the complexity of some of today's messages—global climate change is the ultimate modern example—makes just getting your facts straight hard enough. Additionally, Olson goes on to say, do not worry about the facts. “There's more to life than just accuracy,” he admonishes, and “It's a different way to communicate. It's not as precise as a scientist would like. But it is more likeable.” I understand Olson's point, but the fact is—if I do not stick with the facts, even to make a message easier to understand, I will lose credibility with the public, myself, and my boss and coworkers. Yes, there is a dire disconnect between the scientists and the rest of the country. Yes, an alternate communication approach is needed, and Olson has some great ideas. I thought it was brilliant, for example, the way Olson presented his case as a mythic story (damsel in distress vs. evil empire) in his film Flock of Dodos. However, the entire time I was reading, I kept waiting for Olson to take on a messy, complicated example, i.e., global warming or childhood vaccines, and tell me how he would start addressing it.
When you have about had enough about how science folks are so unlike and unliked by the rest of the planet, Olson finally gives you an answer, but without the details. After 30 pages of why and how we science type are so, so wrong, Olson gives the reader four paragraphs of solution, and this is as detailed as he gets:
“If likeability came down to a formula, scientists would figure it out and be the most popular people in the world. Of course, it's far too subjective for that. But we do know likeability is inextricably tied to elements arising from those lower organs—humor, emotion, passion.”
I feel like someone is telling me how to bake a cake, and left halfway through without giving me the recipe for the icing. But then again, maybe that is the point. Olson tells us how to get there, and we have to add our own personal embellishments and favorite flavors as we go along. Still, I would have liked to have seen more successful examples of how movies capture people's interest in science—maybe that will be discussed in the next book?
What is the primary message for the ecopsychology community? It is not enough to merely educate the public. Some might argue that educating the public is not even our goal; instead, we are trying to change their behavior. Here, Olsen has hit the target: it is not enough to change their minds. You must reach their hearts, their guts, and more, if possible, to really resonate. “The product speaks for itself” is no longer a sufficient business strategy. Olson asks science types to rise to a pretty high bar in the communication world, and I respect that. It is good to have goals. On the other hand, I do not see these goals as completely realistic. The best take-home message from Don't be Such a Scientist is to know the principles and apply them when we can. One of Olson's most important pieces of advice is, “The bottom line: There is a science dialect that you pick up without even realizing it. You think you're talking ‘normal,’ but the civilians hear otherwise.” Olson makes the point that, although knowledge might be power, it will not go anywhere until you have captured your audience's interest. And he tells you what you need to do to capture it.
Olson's family moved to Hawaii when he was 4 years old, and they lived there for 4 years. Olson points to these years near the ocean as the reason for his eventual career as a marine biologist. I too became a scientist because of the exciting field trips and experiments that my childhood teachers used to capture my mind. That wonder and excitement and mystery is what draws us to the natural world and keeps us there. So instead of marching out armed with pamphlets and data-heavy presentations, maybe we also should think about how to better tie our goals and interests to the magic and wonder of the world that we sometimes think everyone can see. Stop boring people and make your message fun, Olson prods us. Not that this is easy—you do not want your listeners or readers to remember your great story about popcorn and forget how it ties in to saving the spotted owls.
As Olson says, “Telling a clear and simple story is a true art.” This book is written like Olson is sitting next to you in the car on a road trip. He presents himself as less-than-perfect and still without all of the answers—you cannot help but like the guy, even though he is telling you that what you are doing is all wrong. You laugh along with his mistakes, thinking you would never do anything that embarrassing (time after time!), and secretly hoping that you will not, should the occasion arise. He reminds you of the points he is making, and stops to review along the way. Olson wrote this personal odyssey to tell other scientists how to join in the evolving world of communication. It is like he is saying, “Here, I learned how to do it the hard way. Now I'll give you my Cliff notes so that you can succeed too.”
Randy Olson has directed several films, including Flock of Dodos: the Evolution-Intelligent Design Circus and Sizzle: A Global Warming Comedy. He is currently the director of the Shifting Baselines Ocean Media Project. Don't Be Such a Scientist: Talking Substance in an Age of Style is Olson's first book.