It may seem like an unusual choice to focus a Darwin Day talk on how science is communicated rather than on evolutionary biology, but Carpenter emphasized that part of Darwin’s great success with evolutionary theory was the accessibility of his writing to non-scientists. He used metaphors and vernacular in ways that made sense to the (educated) masses in Victorian England, and because of that his ideas spread quickly, and not just within the scientific community.

The debate Darwin began within the general populace is far from concluded: the theory of evolution is still controversial and often misinterpreted in some settings. Ingrid Birker, science outreach coordinator for the Redpath Museum, noted that young people often come to the museum, which focuses on natural history, with questions and misunderstandings of evolutionary biology. Additionally, there’s still a substantial amount of debate around evolution in some religious communities.

Evolutionary theory is far from the only controversial topic in science: everything from climate change to vaccinations have become hot cultural debates, even when the scientific evidence is clear and cohesive. Carpenter used the example of vaccinations as an issue with enormous societal impact, regardless of whether the prevailing opinion in the public is in line with the evidence or not. These pressing issues highlight the need for transparency and accuracy in all science communications, in the Darwinian tradition. Because most people learn about science primarily through popular media, it’s especially important for science journalism to be accurate, as well as enticing and engaging.

But, as Carpenter pointed out, while journalism thrives on new information, new perspectives, and discrete events, science is slower, filled with caveats and nuances, and is much more of a continuous process than a series of individual events. This disconnect can frustrate both the journalist and the scientist: the journalist is looking for a tidy story with a clear conclusion, and the scientist sees a result as a part of a much larger, complicated, and evolving picture. While the journalist will shape the story and the headline to attract readers, the scientists often object that the entire picture wasn’t presented. But caveats don’t attract eyeballs, and even if an article is extremely precise, if no one reads it, it will have little effect on the public’s broader scientific understanding. A catchy title, with a little bit of sensationalism (and often a lot of simplification), has a better chance of catching a reader’s eye, and thus a better chance of communicating the scientist’s results.

But threats to science journalism do not come solely from within; the relative lack of science media means that it is that much more important to get what does exist right. The media landscape is shifting, with people now getting their news online rather than in print newspapers, and the pace of news is rapidly increasing as a result. As science journalists and scientists alike adjust to this shift, perhaps they should look to Darwin for guidance on how to effectively communicate important, even possibly radical, ideas to a wide audience. It’s just as important now as it was in Darwin’s time, especially as we respond to a shifting climate. As Carpenter emphasizes, “If [science communicators] stop talking about science, then people will find other ways to explain the world around them.” It is crucial, then, that scientists and science journalists find a way to keep the discourse both alive and accurate.

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Of course, Canada is a relatively small country by population, and this means our contributions to science are often pieces of larger projects spearheaded by American or European groups. While those pieces are often critical to the project’s success, freelance journalist Colin Schultz wryly noted in an interview with The Daily that “it’s hard to get jazzed up about a piece of a puzzle.” More people were excited about the International Space Station or the shuttle program than the Canadarm, even though the robotic arm was a major contribution to both projects and a remarkable feat of engineering.

However, the stories that do make the news are often popular, showing that Canadians do have an appetite for Canadian science. The lack of dedicated media makes public awareness difficult; there are few forums where Canadians can talk about science and research at length or consistently.

Partially, this is because the Canadian media as a whole is small, so Canadian science media is a small wedge of a small pie. Science is usually shuffled in with general news, and because of the limited space and spotty coverage given to science, there’s hardly any room for anything beyond bare-bones reporting of events: no long-term perspective, no critical analysis, no opinion pieces. “There [are] almost no examples of Canadian science stories playing out across several media outlets,” lamented Marie-Claire Shanahan, a professor of science education at the University of Alberta. As part of her teaching, she looks for widely covered stories to use as case studies for her students to dissect, and “[has] to go with almost completely American stories.”

Much of the science media that Canadians consume and have access to is either American or British: both nations have a robust, highly visible science media sector. While most Canadians wouldn’t look primarily to American journalism for political news and analysis, science doesn’t have the same inherent national boundaries that politics does. While the laws of physics don’t change depending on which side of the Atlantic you’re on, there are scientific endeavours that are important to Canadians but have little importance to other nations. It’s unlikely that a British researcher would investigate the state of the Canadian cod fishery, or that the British press would cover it, but that research is critical to a substantial number of Canadians’ livelihoods.

The lack of homegrown reporting and communication to a wide Canadian audience becomes a big problem when, in the wake of massive budget cuts at Environment Canada (EC) and the Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO), groups like the ozone research group and ocean contaminants groups are dissolved. Alarmingly, Schultz and Shanahan both remarked that they had heard about one or another of the groups cut at EC and DFO not from a Canadian source, but from the Guardian, a British newspaper.

There are two possible explanations for this phenomenon: we either don’t have the resources to report on our own federal public service, or we don’t collectively prioritize reporting on our own federal public service. Both of those are a big problem. The public’s understanding of what’s going on in the federal public service, which is a bellwether for the federal government’s direction and policy, should not be left to the whims of a foreign media outlet that will focus on it through an international lens.

Ironically, the recent silencing of Canadian scientists has shone a spotlight on these chronic deficiencies in Canadian science media. The government’s “let no information out, however innocuous” strategy is looking increasingly retrograde – as well as being totally at odds with scientific practice, which thrives on the flow of information and open communication. Journalists started noticing that federal scientists were not able to speak to the press in 2010, and since then have highlighted the need for flow of information, access to federal scientists, and a concerted public discourse, in pieces published in high profile journals such as Nature. Two years later, these pieces are still being written, but the government’s communication strategy has not shifted.

But the government’s lockdown on information is not necessarily in their own interest. “You’re going to get yourself in a situation where you’re not going to be able to have the … explanation ‘look, we’re doing what our scientists are telling us.’ There are going to be things that arise that you really want to say that because … you’re going to want to depoliticize your response,” said Stephen Strauss, president of the Canadian Science Writers’ Association (CSWA). Arguably, situations like this have already arisen, like the XL Beef recall, and the government is unwavering in its strategy. But because the Canadian science media often struggles for visibility in the public eye, it’s easier for the government to silence its scientists with relative impunity. A scattered science media leads to scattered discussion, making it harder for the average citizen to follow the discussion over long stretches of time or even to keep up with pieces written criticizing the government’s treatment of science. However, as more and more instances of questionable science policy come to (faint) light, the government may be forced to change.

On the other hand, as Canadian traditional media struggles to consistently cover science news, there’s been an explosion of scientists of all stripes doing a lot of the necessary big picture, broad context, critical analysis on the internet. The lack of space restrictions and accessibility of the internet (it’s much easier to start a blog than try to break in to traditional media) mean that two of the major barriers to complex discussion of science in the media are gone. Blogs struggle to have the same reach as newspapers and traditional media, though, and many of the most successful science blogs are under the online umbrella of mainstream outlets like Scientific American and Discover. Unfortunately and perhaps unsurprisingly, there is currently no Canadian science blog network like this.

All these factors create a complex situation where it is difficult to have a public discourse about the role of science in Canadian culture and the role of Canadian culture in our science initiatives. Due to a host of environmental and scientific issues from climate change to proposed pipelines to water treatment, now, especially, we need space to have those discussions and analysis. We need, somehow, to recover a national narrative of Canadian science to be able to navigate those issues. Even with the growth of the internet, the power to shape public discourse is still held by the mainstream press; Strauss and Shanahan emphasized that traditional media is still where most people get their news. The science community and science writers need to continue to press traditional media (through advocacy groups like the CSWA) to cover and develop science stories. Kathryn O’Hara, professor of journalism and former president of the CSWA, thinks that things are starting to change, at least with regards to the clampdown on federal scientists. “I think we’re beginning to build a bit of a groundswell in people understanding that something is amiss. People say ‘Oh, something’s going on here.’” It’s realizations like this that need to happen en masse, to allow the public a voice in an increasingly political discourse about science, and to, perhaps, place pressure on the government to fund the research Canadians, and not just the Conservative government, deem important.

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October’s talk, “All the Colours the Eye Can’t See: Studying the Universe with Different Kinds of Light,” was given by assistant professor Tracy Webb on October 18. The lectures are aimed at the general public, and Dr. Webb’s talk clearly laid out the variety of light in the universe. She discussed how we can gather and process information from different kinds of light to paint a richer, more complete picture of the structure and composition of the universe. Visible light comprises only a sliver of the spectrum of light, and light with shorter and longer wavelengths can reveal different types of material and objects. By looking at a galaxy using different sections of the light spectrum, astronomers can probe different components of the galaxy. Combining all of these types of images gives a more complete and accurate picture of the galaxy than any one image does, and allows astronomers and astrophysicists to more accurately understand the formation of the galaxy and how it fits into larger galactic structures.

The dome on the roof of the Rutherford building houses a 14-inch optical telescope. While the light pollution associated with urban areas washes out most opportunities for observational astronomy, the telescope is strong enough to view most objects in the solar system, including the rings of Saturn and the moons of Jupiter, as well as bright extra-solar system objects like the Orion nebula and clusters of stars.

Unfortunately, the lab scheduled to be toured last Thursday was busy shipping equipment to Antarctica and unavailable, and just before the talk started, clouds rolled in and the telescope couldn’t be used for observing. Instead, two members of Astro McGill gave an informal talk about the method used to discover the planet that was recently found orbiting Alpha Centauri B. Even with the array of technology available to help communicate science, sometimes styrofoam balls on sticks are the most effective (and humourous, when they inevitably fly apart or fall off the table) teaching tools around.

The talk was attended by around sixty people, a number the organizers said is typical for these events. Most of the people who attend are in some way associated with McGill, and though the audience had a mix of ages and backgrounds, the enthusiasm for astronomy was palpable. While the turnout for these events is consistent, and the events themselves are advertised through McGill emails, there’s still a large potentially interested audience that is unaware of the talks. This is a chronic problem with outreach programs: how does a group reach the widest possible audience, often on limited resources?

Astro McGill is an entirely volunteer-staffed public outreach organization organized by postdoctoral fellow Dr. Ryan Lynch and PhD student Sebastien Guillot, both working in astrophysics in McGill’s Department of Physics. It consists mostly of graduate students and post docs. Webb, Lynch, and Guillot all stressed the importance of outreach for the department, the astronomy and astrophysics groups especially. “Astronomy is accessible to the public, and it’s easy to grab people’s attention. It’s a great way to get young people interested and involved in science,” said Lynch.  There are benefits not just to the public, but also to the organizers and faculty involved. “It’s a great gateway to teaching the scientific process,” Webb added.  “[Doing outreach] keeps me excited about the material.  It’s a great reminder of how awesome it is!”

Astronomy and astrophysics are by nature esoteric fields, without a lot of tangible, everyday end products or results. But they capture the curiosity of scientists and non-scientists alike, and Astro McGill hopes to open the door to the public’s imagination. Traditional science communication is not always so engaging. “There’s a gap between the magic of science and what ends up in a press release,” according to Guillot. Astro McGill is working to fill in that gap and give the McGill community a window not only to the wonders of the universe, but also the work being done in the Physics department.

In addition to monthly talks, Astro McGill hosts a podcast on iTunes and works with other science outreach groups on and off campus. The next public talk is scheduled for November 15 and features Stephen Ng talking about “Cosmic Fireworks: Supernova Explosions and Their Aftermaths.” The talks start at 7 p.m. in room 103 of the Rutherford Physics building.

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