words of science

Engineering meets the arts - part II

2012-02-13T22:02:00.004Z

Day 2 of the EngD Art Challenge. My Day 1 post is here.

Many things about today were irregular. Engineers dressing up like woodland folk and pimps. Gaffa-taping dust sheets to outdoor walls of the university. Dashing out to the art shop to ask for "medium charcoals" as if I knew what I was talking about. All of the above qualify as irregular in my book; it's safe to say, this was not your average day in the office. And thank goodness.

Entering into a project like this, you're convinced that such irregularities will land you immediately in the sights of the Powers That Be, who will, surely, rise up against you, leaving all notions of "creativity" and "fun" to be washed out in the ensuing downpour of risk assessments and consent forms. Surely nobody walks into the University of Bristol with 30 cans of spray paint, knives (okay, they were craft knives) and a couple of suitcases stuffed with - among other things - dead animal parts, and expects to get away with it? Um, well, apparently they do.

[click image to enlarge]

Today was the first of two hands-on days of art for our Bristol University engineers. And incredibly, it all materialised pretty much exactly as we'd envisaged from the outset. Possibly the biggest triumph was spray painting on 8ft-wide mdf boards out the back of the engineering workshop. We got a few odd looks from passers-by, but importantly nobody called the police, er... or the dean, on us. The only person who did bother us was another spray painter - evidently involved in painting something more engineer-y - who was keen to ask street artist Dan Petley's advice on dealing with his blocked nozzle. "What does he normally do when he has a blocked nozzle?", I wanted to know.

You can see the results of one of the spray painting workshops above - I was amazed at what was achieveable in just over an hour, with absolutely no prior experience. In the artwork on the left, the engineer/artist was making a statement about the clash between sustainability and dirty old unsustainability in materials research. The painting on the right was a more literal depiction of the engineer/artist's work - a machine he's working on. The results of the photography and animation sessions were similarly impressive, although not immediately available (I'll try to post some of the photos and films the engineers produced later). Illustrator Jonathan Farr led an absorbing workshop. The charcoal drawing below was one in a series that was used to create a beautifully simple and effective little animation of a car windscreen.

More than anything, today was a day for people to try things they'd never tried before. And if that included pinning on a tail and wielding a battle axe, then so be it. My last picture is from Richard Andersen's photography session. He's interested in the idea of narrative and performance in photography and is hoping to get the engineers to invent and act out a scene inspired by the applications of their research. But the engineers had to learn the art of performance first, so today's session was a bit like when your teacher used to get the dressing up box out at school. Shortly after this, participants were waving big sticks at each other and shouting naughty words. All in the name of art, of course.

I'm so glad to be working with some really great people on this project. People who don't even think about saying no when you suggest taking 30 cans of spray paint, knives and assorted animal parts into their university. Being able to give people these new experiences, without all the watering down, is a joy.

On the third day, we'll find out whether we can translate all these new experiences into new, more artistic perspectives on the engineers' research. And whether we'll continue to evade the Powers That Be in attempting to secure the use of an actual university wall for the purpose of street art... created by engineers.

Engineering meets the arts - part I

2012-02-01T16:20:00.001Z

I suffer from insomnia. It's something I deal with by drinking bucketfuls of chamomile tea and occasionally getting up past midnight to watch mind-numbing television, to try to switch my brain off. But last night my brain went into overdrive. It was gorging itself on ideas and information following the first session in a new project I've been helping to develop.

It's a wildly cross-disciplinary project that aims to share knowledge, skills and creative inspiration across the arts and engineering by bringing together local Bristol artists and University of Bristol research engineers. I'll be blogging about it over the next month - starting today and after each of three sessions until the results of the project go on display in early March. We'll be inviting our engineers to try out spray painting, animation and photography, and, supported by the artists, produce artwork that will be displayed at the Discover exhibition in Cabot Circus.

In last night's session, we got our artists and engineers together in the same room for the first time. It was fascinating to watch what unfolded - so fascinating, evidently, that my brain deemed it necessary to replay and dissect everything that happened until 1.30 in the morning. Illustrator Jonathan Farr told a darkly strange story about pigs' trotters and infanticide inspiring his latest animation (I'm sure some of these featured in my dreams), engineers owned up to being scared (not by the pigs' trotters or the infanticide but by the prospect of doing art) and more than a few eyes popped out at photographs of naked folks.

Two things particularly interested me though. One, that the artists and engineers initially had quite different views about what "art" might mean. The engineers perceived art to be a painting or film - a finished product - whereas for the artists, art was as much about the process as about the product. It will be interesting to see whether perceptions of art change over the course of the project and if we can overcome the fixation with the product to begin really enjoying the creative process.

The second thing I've been pondering is constraints. While we think of art as being free from boundaries (and engineering, by comparison, as being confined by rules and systems), I was interested to hear what our resident street artist had to say about them. If you're trying to convey a clear message through art - perhaps a political one, if we're talking street art - you're limited by what your audience can see and understand. There's a balance between being creative and allowing people to have their own interpretations, and producing something that gets its point across. I wonder how engineers will approach this balance in creating an artistic response to their own research, and which way the artists will be steering them.

More sleepless nights ahead, I feel, as this project progresses. The clash of art and engineering is proving intriguing and exciting. Next up: taster sessions in three different artforms with Dan Petley, Richard Andersen and Jonathan Farr.

And by the way if any project participants are reading this, I encourage you to:

Stay open-minded.
See it as a sharing of ideas and perspectives (that goes both ways), rather than a transfer of skills.
Have fun!

Thanks to Sarah Tauwhare for the photos.

Objects of science

2011-11-08T14:48:00.003Z

I'm very pleased with myself. Look at all the vintage chic sciencey stuff I have just bought:

Microscope in battered old box plus scuffed up metal ruler and case (featuring weights of metals) for £15. Bargain! Plus, copies of various science books published 1950-1965 for a fiver. Including one called The Century of Science by F. Sherwood Taylor, which has been entertaining me over carrot cake for the last 20 minutes. In a section entitled 'Science at Home', Taylor envisages his future Science-enhanced living space:

"The windows will be air-tight - no, on second thoughts, I will do without windows, whose only use would be to show me a hideously industrialised town... I will light myself with daylight lamps concealed behind translucent panels; a diet rich in vitamin D will give me vicarious sunshine... All my furniture will be dull-finished plastic material and of stainless steel... Cooking proper will be abolished. Food will be bought from the future firm of Prepared Foods, Ltd., who will sell dishes ready prepared for cooking... The food will be fresh and will taste much better than anything home-made... Washing up will be almost wholly avoided by the use of an improved type of paper-plate, charmingly designed and decorated... Their cost will be negligible and after use they will be thrown away. Only the cutlery will need to be washed... My flat will therefore require no regular housework at all."

Ha! It amuses me that he imagined Science would have us all shrivelling in our artificially lit, plastic-encased apartments, eating off paper plates. And that microwaveable ready meals would be tasty.

Anyway, what's all this in aid of? Well, Saturday is open doors day at my office/studio. Everyone else in the building is a *proper* creative, with paintings and stuff. So I'm accessorising my articles with scientific objects, for visual effect.

Okay, okay, it was an excuse to buy loads of cool stuff.

Einstein's Garden: storified

2011-08-24T23:32:00.000+01:00

See you in Einstein's Garden!

2011-08-11T12:59:00.013+01:00

In a week's time I will be somewhere in South Wales, probably standing under an umbrella, trying to work out how to get a juggling chemist, some robotic crows, a social physicist wielding a guitar and a cult musician accompanied by a saw player (sawist?) onto a solar-powered stage with minimum fuss. And if it all becomes too complicated, at least I'll have a stand-up mathematician and a Blue Peter presenter to call on...

Sitting snug between the main stage and the comedy tent, the Solar Stage is at the heart of a well-loved music and arts festival - Green Man Festival - and yet its theme is science. It's the focal point of Einstein's Garden. Not Einstein's actual Garden, you understand, but certainly the sort of Garden the great man would have enjoyed tending to if he hadn't been too busy coming up with the theory of relativity. But it's not just for scientists. I mean, who wouldn't want to see a trio of poets get their tongues around Brian Cox... Okay, that last phrase was ill-advised. But sticking and colouring in are universal joys so get your butts to the Scientists' Crafternoon Tea Party for tea and cake, craftiness and, er, chromosomes. What else?

Everything happening in said Garden will be powered by the Sun, the ferocious pedalling of visitors to Electric Pedals' bicycle installation and a hydrogen fuel cell. And Love. Because every performance, exhibit, workshop and stage construction is the result of many months of hard work by an extremely dedicated and creative team, pouring Love in immeasurable quantities into this project. (Well done all!)

We've persuaded hipster musicians to come camping in Crickhowell and navigated our way through health and safety policy to put live, just-hatched chickens alongside a hydrogen-fuelled 'Omni-Tent'. In the last few weeks, an unexpected outbreak of busted knees, collar bones and hands among crew and artists has plagued my final preparations. Thankfully everyone concerned is expecting a full recovery and all but one will be heading for Wales, and the Garden, come next Thursday.

The programme has been printed, the tickets have been posted and the technical team is poised to wring every last drop of sunshine out of the sky to keep that solar-powered stage chugging over all weekend. Meanwhile, all that's left between me and Einstein's Garden is a frighteningly large number of words - despite my best efforts to finish various articles well ahead of time (who was I kidding?) I'll undoubtedly find myself working till the early hours over the coming week.

But if all those words do somehow magically arrange themselves on the page in the next couple of days, I'll be spending my Saturday afternoon playing an oxygen atom in a theatrical interpretation of the workings of the aforementioned hydrogen fuel cell. So if anyone happens to be in the vicinity of St Andrew's Park on Saturday, do come along and join in the madness - it's for a short film that will feature in the Omni-Tent over the festival weekend.

I'm preparing to spend large parts of next week out of the range of any kind of network - especially considering the pretty much redundant nature of my non-smart mobile phone - so I'll leave you with a Twitter list of all the crew working in Einstein's Garden this year. Some of them are equipped with much snazzier mobile devices than me. Also, my Geek Pop co-host @JimothyBell will be returning to the Green Man FM radio hut for the second year in a row to play science-inspired music, in similar fashion to the Geek Pop Podcast, but with less sitting on the floor of my lounge. I'm informed his show will be streamed live online, but where, I don't know - maybe on the Green Man website? Try that.

Anyway, toodlepip. I'll see you all in a lovely big field of mud.

Biscuits in zero-G

2011-07-27T11:47:00.008+01:00

NiceCupOfTeaAndASitDown.com sensibly notes that space travellers would do better to take new-fangled biscuit spread, rather than bourbons or custard creams, into any sort of zero-gravity scenario. It's the crumbs you see. Big, floaty lumps of biscuit spread will cause less havoc.

"Belgian biscuit baker Lotus well known for their Caramelised Biscuits and Speculoos has found a way of turning biscuits into a spread. This seems to be grinding them up with some vegetable oil, sugar and emulsifier much in the way peanuts might find themselves ending up in peanut butter. The upshot of this is that it tastes almost exactly like Speculoos, just as peanut butter tastes just like peanuts.

"Beyond breakfast I can see this new technology being put to use in two important areas. The first as a new form of biscuit adhesive for making advanced types of birthday cakes. In fact I reckon you could pull off a half decent Jabba the Hut's sail barge sticking on the window shutters with a jar of this stuff. The second and perhaps more obvious use is in the manned exploration of Mars. Biscuit crumbs in zero G during the 3 year round trip could prove quite a problem scuppering the no doubt endless opportunities for a nice float around and a cup of tea presented by 18 months in space."

Podcasts I will keep on paying for

2011-07-06T19:59:00.002+01:00

A shout out for two awesome, life-enriching podcasts that I have supported in the last 12 months:

This American Life with Ira Glass: Sublime examples of storytelling. Will teach any writer a thing or two.

Filmspotting with Adam Kempenaar and Matty "Ballgame" Robinson: Best. Film critiques. Ever. What's that you say about Mark Kermode? I don't even care.

(no, no, no)

Both are free but collect listener donations. Both are so good that I will gladly keep putting my hand in my pocket for them. I barely watch TV any more (why bother when faced with this?) so radio and podcasts are my main entertainment media besides music.

BUT. Is this any kind of a business model for publishers of new media? What if even the best-loved productions can't survive on listener/reader donations? Okay, so This American Life has other sources of funding, but ultimately, it will have to start charging if its listeners don't keep on paying. Filmspotting say they only just cover their expenses.

What if all the podcasts in the world just stop? It keeps me up at night. It really does.

Molecule haikus

2011-06-22T16:40:00.006+01:00

I'm collecting molecule haikus. No reason, other than someone sent me one - about carbon and oxygen - on Twitter. Then someone sent me another. Also about carbon. And another about water. I've posted them below.

"Oh why, Oxygen/did you choose Carbon, of all/Deadly love affair." - @AnneOsterrieder (Plant cell biologist studying the Golgi apparatus.)

"Join me, soft graphite/ Before this world crushes you / Your veins clear like glass" - @martinaustwick (Podcaster, Social Physicist, One-Man-Band, Unicorn Torturer)

"For H2O mix / Two hydrogens and just one / Oxygen. Finish." - @brisandbath_sci (The Bristol & Bath branch of the British Science Association:)

AND NOW ANOTHER!

"Humoral response, Molecules collide in blood, Body protected." - @JLVernonPhD (Defender of Science, Molecular Biologist)

Now I want more. So PLEASE SEND MORE (add them in the comments). Thank you, kind people of Twitter.

M-Shed: how to engage the locals

2011-06-19T15:01:00.004+01:00

When I heard that the new £27 million M-Shed - a museum that promises to "tell the story of our city" - was opening in Bristol this weekend, I have to say I felt fairly apathetic about it. Standing right on the dockside, facing the floating harbour, the building itself is colossal, box-like and once housed Bristol's "much-loved" industrial museum. Personally, I never felt much affinity with it. So it was with without any high hopes or expectations that I arrived (with Mr Hayley and a friend in tow) outside the museum doors yesterday afternoon.

Within two minutes of stepping inside the building, I'd been greeted by a smiley lady wearing an M-Shed t-shirt, handed a pencil and a piece of paper and agreed to sketch out a design that I was later to transfer onto one of enormous windows in the stair well. The window was, by this point, already adorned with tens or quite possibly hundreds of visitors' impressions of local landmarks, all carefully inked onto the glass. The impressive view from the balcony at the top of the museum seemed to be a source of much inspiration. Upon staring out of the opposite window, however, I caught sight of the distinctive lettering that spells out 'THE LOUISIANA' and decided to pay homage to the legendary music pub - the venue for early gigs of The Libertines, Muse, Kings of Leon, British Sea Power and Mumford & Sons, to name but a few. Artistically, the result wasn't quite as charming as I'd hoped (pictures of the window itself still to come), but I was gratified by the chance to contribute to this gorgeously skewy piece of public art.

Not to linger on this window drawing, but it was, I think, a stroke of genius by the museum staff. Before I'd even set foot inside an exhibition hall, the drawing had stirred up a strong feeling of connection to my home city. A connection to the building and to the people living in it, with whom I had helped to create this artwork. More than that, though, the invitation to make my mark on the very structure of the building had given me a sense of shared ownership. This, combined with the slightly rebellious pleasure obtained from being allowed to scrawl on a shiny new window in a recently renovated building, left me infinitely more positive and open-minded about the exhibits I had yet to see. And, if I'm not mistaken, the window art was a nod to the street art scene that Bristol is famed for - I appreciated that.

As for the exhibits, well, as someone who has lived in or near Bristol their entire life, it's hard to convey quite how I began to feel as we perused cabinets stuffed with artefacts that related directly to my home environment. The curators had defined Bristol not just by a timeline of historical events, but by its culture, encompassing not only 19th century riots, architecture and inventions, but modern day festivals, clothes designers and film makers. The whole experience was steeped in nostalgia for me. One cabinet contained relics from Ashton Court Festival - until 2007, one of the focal points of city's music calendar - including a torn, paint-daubed festival t-shirt. In another, a stunning, gothic-inspired knitted dress designed by a student at the university where I did my postgraduate degree was displayed alongside more conventional clothing designs from centuries past.

Although many of the artefacts were behind glass, the curators had gone to great lengths to liven up the museum's halls with curious and often playful exhibits. Those that attracted attention included a full-size table and chairs (which visitors could sit at) with place settings and menus representing middle class dinner parties for different eras, a piece of street art covering an entire wall and a computerised exhibit that visitors could use to remix tracks originally recorded by Bristol-based musicians.

At the centre of one hall, we stopped to gaze down through a large opening in the floor. Spread out on the floor below was a map of the whole of Bristol. Now, what's the first thing you do when you see a map of your home town? You start looking for your house, or your school, or your local pub. And that's exactly what about 10-15 people at a time were doing, some of them on their hands and knees.

By the time we reached the bottom floor and I had reluctantly given up hope of finding my house - which was at that time located under a large pram - I was feeling quite emotional. As we emerged from the exit to find the concreted area outside had been turned into a giant chalk board, I resolved to visit again very soon. I could easily have spent several more hours at M-Shed, but in all likelihood, I would have been overcome with nostalgia - and pride in the achievements of my home city. So, I guess, I'm a convert to the new museum. I think that it says much about the culture of Bristol that I had thought would be impossible to convey.

I'd be interested to hear what non-Bristolians think of M-Shed. My impression was that most people visiting on the opening weekend were local people, and for that reason, they were feeling the same closeness to all the objects on display as I was. I could be wrong. But I'm sure that the creative way the exhibits have been designed will also interest outsiders... if not quite so intently.

P.S. I'm not sure exactly what this has to do with science communication (sorry sci commers), but there are certainly some fascinating examples of public engagement here.

Yes! Look what just arrived!

2011-06-01T12:41:00.003+01:00

Gene Code Fridge Magnets from the Open University! Win!

Chromosome-based fridge magnets. Why can't every day be this good?

Einstein's Gardener

2011-06-01T12:08:00.009+01:00

As readers of this blog will know, I'm a sucker for anything combining science and the arts, and especially the musical arts. So when I was asked to manage the Solar Stage in Einstein's Garden at the amazing Green Man Festival, I jumped at the chance. My task, basically: to populate a festival programme with nerds. And mostly singing ones.

Well, initially, I admit, my minor successes at... erm... nerd-herding (oh, happy rhyming accident!) at Geek Pop might have made me a bit complacent - "Nerds you say? Ha! I know all of the nerds, all of them I tell you!" The ensuing panic hit just prior to my wedding at the start of this month, when I realised I was about to leave the office for nearly a month - strictly no internet permitted - without having herded all the relevant nerds into my neatly ordered and beautifully colour-coded Excel spreadsheet.

Luckily, other Einstein's Gardeners were on hand to man the spreadsheets while I drank gin cocktails in Sardinia and, following a Bank Holiday Skype-athon and some serious jigsaw puzzling of the schedule, it appears we've pretty much cracked it. And now I think about it... it looks freaking awesome!

Helen and Olly: Answer Me This

Not only have we succeeded in dragging half the nerd population of London to Wales for a (probably wet) weekend, we've managed to persuade a Sony Award-winning podcast team (Answer Me This*) and some hotly-tipped young bands (Marthas and Arthurs, With Love From Humans!) to perform on a barely waterproof stage powered by a distinctly dubious source (the Sun**). That, plus the fact that I've managed to team up Jonny Berliner, Helen Arney and Rishi Nag in the ultimate musical geek-off... all on miniature guitars... And I'm practically salivating. By jove, we've created the hippest nerdfest the world has ever seen!

Anyway, that's my publicity drive over with and now I want to explain why this is important. Because you might not think that I'd consider a muddy field in Wales the pinnacle of my science communication career to date, but let me tell you why I think it *is* - with reference to a conversation I had last week that I've been thinking about a LOT.

The essence of this conversation, which started over a post-honeymoon cup of tea with Julianna from StoryCog (and I'm sure she won't mind me repeating it here), was that in trying to bridge the gap between art and science, science communication (or the science communicator) often seems to creates more barriers than bridges. And I think Einstein's Garden does a good job of avoiding that particular pitfall.

Sometimes, you see, it just seems like we're going about this interdisciplinary stuff all the wrong way. So often, the focus for science communication is on getting scientists to create art from their research, or on providing a kind of scientific consultancy service to artists. As if scientific accuracy lends some kind of greater legitimacy to a piece of art. But does it?

I get where science communication is coming from. Evidence-based is best, right? Right... If you're a scientist. Because if you're a scientist, you deal in Theories and Experiments and Facts, so it seems logical that art about science should be based - like journal papers - on Theories and Experiments and Facts. But artists don't work like that. I mean, I'm probably not the best person to ask what artists base their work on but I'm also a writer and I've written some short stories in my time, and if you asked me what they were based on I'd say sudden wafts of familiar smells; words that fit a rhythm rather than a formula; feelings of nostalgia or déjà vu or sleep deprivation; that sort of thing. It's more about taking the germ of an idea and running with it.

So in my mind, there are two problems with the scientific approach to making art. One is that it ignores all those talented artists who are happily and legitimately making art about science in their usual lovely, haphazard, non-evidence based way. And the other is that if we reduce science-inspired art to handing scientists a paintbrush or a microphone, it's as if we're saying artists aren't capable of understanding science in the "correct" way, or of representing it accurately or fairly. But that's just the point! Who said art is supposed to be an accurate representation? Isn't one of the reasons we make art to provide completely new perspectives? What a bore if it was just frighteningly realistic still lifes and landscapes...

So without getting too deep (yes, sorry about that - I'll stop soon), it's for these reasons that I think it's more interesting to mix up the artists and scientists in one big arty, sciencey jumble and let them get on with it. Who knows? They might learn something from each other.

The non-existent pie chart

Now, the neat thing about Einstein's Garden is that it's grown from grassroots and it's (mostly) funded by people paying to see arts performances, so in general there's no one making a pie chart of the proportion of scientists vs non-scientists performing on my stage. Which in this instance, I think, is good. Don't get me wrong, I've programmed a lot of scientists. But only coincidentally, if you see what I mean. I won't discriminate against a band due to a lack of PhDs - I'm only concerned that they have something to say about the environment, or genetics or robots. Because science is our theme; finding out about it is part of a wider cultural interest, not just an educational aim. And because Einstein's Garden is part of a larger music festival and we're competing for the attentions of those who may have absolutely no prior interest in the subject, the motivation is to programme high quality performances - whether those be music, comedy, theatre, storytelling, poetry or a craft workshop - rather than science projects with some "art" tagged on.

So do science-themed Q&A sessions and some funny songs about particles performed in a field constitute science communication? It depends what you call science communication. If you think science communication always has to involve actual scientists or science communicators or has to teach someone how the Large Hadron Collider works, then probably not. But if you want people to consider science a part of culture in the same way they would politics or music or cookery, then perhaps this is the sort of science communication that is really worth doing.

P.S. Am I being purposefully provocative? Yes. Someone should probably argue with me.
P.P.S. Am I biased? Definitely. I love this project.
P.P.P.S. Here's a MixCloud list of musicians playing Einstein's Garden this year. Have a listen. It's good.

*Although I gather certain members of the Answer Me This team will agree to pretty much anything for half a kilo of Flying Saucers...
**The Sun, as in the celestial object, not The Sun as in the newspaper - that really would be a dubious source.

My week as a freelancer part II (Colin's week)

2011-04-11T10:00:00.005+01:00

After reading my post on Friday, friend and fellow freelancer Colin Stuart (you may know him as @skyponderer) felt compelled to write something in response. I promised to publish it, so here it is. He's gone for a full on blow-by-blow account of his week, which I think perfectly communicates the hectic (but varied and often fun-filled) lifestyle of a freelancer. And for the record, I don't eat *that* many biscuits... cake, though, that's a different question.

Freelancing can be interesting. Let me say outright though that I don't eat as many biscuits as Hayley but I am happy to bet I drink as much tea and my Where's Wally pyjamas can definitely rival her Dangermouse ones.

So I too often get approached to say that I must be living the dream as a freelancer and like Hayley I have never really known another way having taken the leap straight out of uni.

First things first, there are many things to distract you: I am only writing this because I was crowd-sourcing on Facebook (for that read procrastinating) when I saw a link to her blog post on being freelance. I then felt I too could/should write something. Bottom line: you've got to be disciplined(ish).

So, let's get down to it. My week as a freelancer*:

Monday - had the morning off so I could travel back from parent's house having cooked my Mum a lovely Mother's Day dinner night before. NB Being freelance means you can take time off whenever you want, e.g. to be a good Son. Win. Also means you don't earn as much money, or you have to work extra to cover it. Fail. Monday afternoon I had given over to writing my entry for the 2011 Association of British Science Writers Awards. Being freelance means any opportunity for shameless promotion needs to be taken, sometimes at the cost of not doing paid work. Monday = happy Mother, potential for awards victory, zero money made.

Tuesday – It is a rare day that as a freelancer I have a need to get suited and booted. It is either aforementioned Where's Wally pyjama bottoms, or at best black jeans and a shirt. Today was different: today I was going to the House of Lords. Not before a meeting in Central London mind. During meeting another editor emails (seen on my indispensable iPhone) to say he has story for me, am I interested? Whilst still paying attention to the meeting, I reply in the affirmative. He is paying, of course I am. Meeting finishes. Whilst grabbing a quick lunch, read paper editor had emailed over, email lead author to set up phone interview for next day. Rack brains for independent researcher in same field, send email to ask same. Jump on Tube and head to Westminster. Hour and half chatting about new project I am the writer for, as well as the obligatory networking. As a freelancer you never know who you might meet and which purse strings they may be in control of. Two pints in pub with fellow science writer and then home for a lie down.

Wednesday – Also on Tuesday in between meetings, emails to editors/experts and eating scones in the House of Lords, Royal Observatory emailed to say they needed me to cover a planetarium shift on Wednesday morning. Again, they are paying so yes please. Go in and talk to ~150 people about life, the Universe and everything and then racing home for phone interview with lead scientist from yesterday's commission. Oh yeah a kid vomited in the planetarium. Interview lead author of paper and independent expert. Feeling in the writing groove (a rarity when you actually need to write) so bash out two thirds of the news article by 6:30. Buy beer. Watch Champions League.

Thursday – Up early to finish off news article. Words flow surprisingly easily again, copy filed by 10:30am. Had received 2 CD's in the post containing manuscripts for 12 kids science books on the Solar System I had agreed to fact check. Fact check and write corrections for 2 books. Re-read article I had sent, even though I'd sent it and there was nothing I could change now. Sit down on sofa for lunch, watch a bit of TV. Get so distracted by TV and internet that I don't actually move from the sofa for the rest of the afternoon; Jeremy Kyle often robs me of working time. Bastard. Head out to meet girlfriend for night of art galleries and cocktails. NB We're not really that pretentious.

Friday – Girlfriend's alarm goes off at 6:30am because she has a 'proper' job. I have a meeting in Central London at 11am and I am a freelancer, so I set the alarm for 9am and go back to bed. Get up and trek back from North London (she'll come round to South East London one day) to meeting. 90 minutes meeting. Jump back on public transport back to my flat. Write up the minutes of the meeting along with Tuesday's meeting. Get bored. Check Facebook/Twitter. Read Hayley's article. Decide to splurge this out in 15 minutes. Think I should show geek credentials by adding a graph. Whilst making graph, see tweet that my article has gone live. Shamelessly RT. Decide I can't be arsed with graph.***

So there it is. My week in words. Freelancing is definitely a lifestyle choice. There are many things that didn't feature this week that are big parts of the gig. Chasing invoices, never having a proper pay day, weekends not being sacred. Oh and if you get sick you are screwed and giving yourself holiday is tough. But don't let that scare you off. There are many brilliant aspects and if I am honest I wouldn't swap it for the world. For starters the commute from bed, to kettle, to desk is the easiest and cheapest in London. Throw in the fact I am earning more money than I would if I wasn't freelance, that I am in charge of my life (most of the time) and no week is ever the same, I couldn't even been to imagine what I would be doing if I hadn't stumbled into this amazing, if slightly chaotic, existence.

*No wallplanners were harmed in the making of this blog post.
** I take no responsibility for splling or gramatical erors. After all I am not being paid for this.
*** Edit 12/04: Late addition. Some of your uber-geeks out there (*cough* @lewis_dartnell *cough*) did actually want the graph after all. And who I am to deprive them. So here it is: my normalised earnings for the past three years. No prizes for spotting my week's holiday to Greece and when I disappeared to Australia for an entire month!

My week as a freelancer

2011-04-08T12:10:00.005+01:00

I've been getting quite a few enquiries lately from people interested in becoming writers, journalists, science comms people and what have you. Not all of them want to become freelancers straight away, but that does often seem to be the long-term aim. The Dream, if you like.

So I thought I'd put together a quick post describing my week, primarily as a link I can send to the people making those enquiries, therefore saving some of my precious freelance time - you know, for sitting around in my Dangermouse pyjamas and stuff - and secondly, to see if people are any more or less interested in becoming freelance once they've heard some real-life details.

Now, first appreciate that I am writing this in a hurry. It's not paid-for so doesn't (can't) take priority. And to add to that, I have a hankering for biscuits so am aiming to finish this in the next ten minutes so that I can run out to Co-op.

As I told one colleague earlier this week, I am currently scheduled to within an inch of my life. Staring at the bit of paper covered in blue highlighter pen constituting my wall planner, I have one "free" day on the 19th April, which I plan to use for overspill. (I am already way behind on three different projects). Also, because I'm getting married in less than a month, all sorts of jobs to do with flowers and fascinators - that I guess other people get on with in their office jobs when they think no one is looking - have been designated to me because I'm freelance and therefore don't have anything really useful to be getting on with...

So, a recap of my week so far. Monday I spent writing a feature article for Chemistry World, and scouring the internet for entomologists who could act as independent experts for a news article I'm writing - sort of in my spare time, because there's no slot for that on my wall planner...

On Tuesday, I had a deadline for an environmental policy article I had written ahead of schedule, on Friday last week. Still, when opening the article for one last check, I couldn't resist doing another full scale edit. That, as well as the coffee I popped out for mid-afternoon, took another hour out of the time I was scheduled to be writing study guides for an environmental health course. Of course, I made up the time later.

Meanwhile, during my evenings, I'd been trying to stitch a seat cover for a chair. On Monday night, after four hours painstakingly pinning, measuring around foam pads, tacking and swearing at my sewing machine, I realised I'd sewn one of the segments on in the wrong place. I won't go into all the detail of how complicated it was to fix this but on Tuesday morning at 8am I decided (after shunning the gym) to finish the thing just so I could stop dwelling on it. Needless to say it took longer than expected and thus another reason I had to work late on Tuesday. But hey, priveleges of being a freelancer - you get to sew seat covers until 10am if you want to. Just don't expect to be able to do so without feeling guilty.

Anyway, Wednesday, I spent writing my study guides. This was, obviously, punctuated by incessant emails about various other writing/communication projects I'm involved with, invoices left, right and centre, and more of the wedding kerfuffle. Still, by Wednesday evening, I was rather pleased with the amount I had achieved and congratulated myself and Mr Hayley with an inspired dinner of pork wrapped in bacon, mash and apple sauce.

Yesterday, I spent all day writing emails to artists involved with Einstein's Garden at Green Man Festival, for which I am the manager of the Solar Stage (a stage powered by the Sun - in Wales... I know!). Oh and at some point I had a nice conversation with science writer Stuart Clark about a new space-based track he's written with his band the Neutron Stars. (Yes, he writes books, he writes songs, he's soooo prolific). We'll be releasing it on the next Geek Pop podcast, which I'll be co-hosting with fellow freelance sci commer Jim next week. That's not on my wall planner either.

And what about today? Well, I did actually go to the gym. I typed up a transcript for an interview before 9am. I wrote a news article - the unscheduled one - and I just finished this blog post. All by midday! Hoorah! Now for those biscuits...

The month of not setting unachievable goals

2011-03-23T15:45:00.001Z

This April, I have vowed not to set unachievable goals. I will not plan to work ten hour days. I will expect to take at least an hour to deal with the most pressing of my emails every morning. I will go running three times a week and no more. I will definitely not give up drinking coffee. I will probably not blog.

And this is all in aid of what?

Well, first of all, I'm getting married in May, and am trying to avoid breaking out in hives in the run up to the big day. Secondly, though, as a response to this thought-provoking piece of literature on behavioural norms and why they are nigh-on impossible to change.

Actually it's been something of a chain reaction set off by a conversation in the pub last week (isn't it always?). I was trying to claim - probably rather over-zealously - that it would be as hard for me to give up my 11am coffee as it would for a smoker to give up their 11am fag break.

Then, yesterday, in the process of some research on the subject of public health, I stumbled across the aforementioned literature. It argues, quite sensibly, that in health education, providing all the relevant information about the harm that a particular behaviour may cause "does not necessarily lead to a change in health behaviour". Quite right. Otherwise, we'd be a nation of smoke-free, caffeine-free, tee-totaling, salad scoffers.

(Also, slight extrapolation, but it's the same sort of argument that's used against the one-way, "deficit" model of science communication, which neglects attitudes to scientific issues and focuses only on addressing knowledge gaps. Interesting, if slightly off topic).

The paper also touches on the importance of setting realistic goals for behavioural change. It's referring to nurses changing the behaviour of patients, but as a general principle it's something I think is useful to understand: changing the way people behave is tough. Changing drugs (with exceptions) or physiotherapists or your location in relation to a pub/mobile phone mast/nuclear power station might be simple - in theory, at least, if not in practice. But changing the habits of a lifetime is easier said than done.

Worth remembering, I think, when reading or writing about interventions (or policies) that aim to radically change behaviour.

Anyway, in a vote of solidarity for "setting realistic goals" I will be devoting April to achieving no more and no less than I do every other month.

Ref: Whitehead, D. and Russell, G. (2004). How effective are health education programmes – resistance, reactance, rationality and risk? Recommendations for effective practice. International Journal of Nursing Studies, 41, 163-172. DOI: 10.1016/S0020-7489(03)00117-2

Rediscovering The Lorax

2011-01-24T12:31:00.003Z

Yesterday, as I was surveying the contents of the new CD/DVD/book store in town, I happened across a hardcover copy of Dr Seuss' children's book The Lorax. All I could remember of the story were the truffula trees and some sort of vague environmental message. But I remembered loving it and decided, on impulse, that I had to buy it.

The sales assistant joked that I had "a serious night of reading" ahead of me. Well, I don't know about "night" - it did only take 15 minutes - but it was the best book I've read in I-don't-know-how-long. The Lorax beats The Forever War (which I've been crawling painfully through for over a month now) hands down. And that's supposed to be a science fiction classic.

The Lorax may be a children's story, but it's also "serious" storytelling of the highest order. Seuss' joyfully poetic writing...

"I am the Lorax," he coughed and he whiffed.
He sneezed and he snuffled. He snarggled. He sniffed.
"Once-ler!" he cried with a cruffulous croak.
"Once-ler! You're making such smogulous smoke!"

carried me right through to the end I knew was coming in one beautiful, imaginative burst of narrative. Without any of the tortuous mind-battle to continue reading I often experience with inferior (adult) fiction - as if reading a book, whatever my response to it, is good for me.

So honestly, if January is getting you down - which it is, according to BBC news - curl up with a good children's book. Read it out loud; as if you were telling the story to an *actual* child. This was easily the most entertaining, most uplifting thing I'd done all month. Medicine for the soul. And bloody good inspiration for some proper storytelling if you've any writer-ly inclinations.

Epic beginnings

2011-01-21T17:40:00.001Z

Well, I've seen some epic beginnings to scientific papers in my time, but this one takes the cake. Writing about legal rights in relation to quarantine during a potential influenza pandemic, Belinda Bennett kicks off the discussion by re-telling scenes from José Saramago's Blindness. And I quote:

"In his book ‘Blindness’, José Saramago tells the story of a city struck by an epidemic of ‘white blindness’... Those who are blind are placed in quarantine in a disused mental hospital, with food delivered to the main entrance three times daily. Inside the hospital, the ugly side of humanity is revealed as the strong take control of the food supplies and assault the women. Beyond the hospital walls, the epidemic, initially a trickle of baffling cases, spreads to affect the whole city until, finally, soldiers no longer maintain the quarantine and the blind leave the hospital. The story follows a small band of people as they venture back into the city, led by one woman who still has her sight. Through their experiences, we see the chaos of a city where all social infrastructures have broken down and people do their best to survive in their new grim reality."

To be fair, she does go on to point out - on the following page - that the social disruption caused by a flu pandemic would be "considerably less", but, well... yikes! Is this an appropriate way to introduce the issue? I mean, it's attention-grabbing. You might at least read the rest just to see what the hell she's going to say next. But it's a little frightening, to say the least. It's pretty much like saying "When the apocalypse comes..."

Has anyone else come across an epic beginning to a scientific paper? I'd be interested to see others referencing fiction, and particularly science fiction. And what do we think about the "epic" approach to writing papers?

Ref:
Bennett, B. (2009). Legal rights during pandemics: Federalism, rights and public health laws - a view from Australia. Public Health, 123, 232-236. DOI: 10.1016/j.puhe.2008.12.019

A brief musical interlude

2011-01-12T11:01:00.006Z

I know I usually blog about science and science communication, but since this is about technology, I feel legitimate in squeezing this in here.

I've recently read a couple of articles about the state of the music industry and the rise of digital music.

A transformed musical landscape - Sarfraz Manzoor (BBC)

State of the indy music industry looks rosy, so why all the doom-and-gloom about music?
- Cory Doctorow (BoingBoing)

Given that only yesterday I was Skyping Spotify lists to a friend and sharing them on Facebook, I can't pretend I haven't bought into the whole digital music scene. But I still feel the same nostalgia as Manzoor about record shops.

After a particularly meagre pre-wedding Christmas this year, myself and Mr Hayley headed to Fopp in Bristol and, in about an hour, spent most of the money we had saved DIYing our Christmas presents. But wow, it felt good. I left the store triumphant with a stack of shiny new CDs and all the pleasure of combing through the lyrics and artwork to look forward to.

Three of the albums I bought were ones I'd previously downloaded (and paid for, I might add) - thus, the record industry is actually making more money out of me than pre-digital era. These were three albums that I'd grown to feel I needed on my shelf, in physical form, and not on a stark white CD burned in iTunes. I don't like flipping through a CD storage wallet. I like to be able to run my finger along the spines of my CDs, all neatly organised by genre on the shelf next to my sound system. (Call me a geek, but... well, I am.)

Don't get me wrong: I do use iTunes, MixCloud, Bandcamp, You Tube, Spotify and the rest - all the time. But the possibility that in the age of the iPod, we'll see the demise of the album is one thing that really does make me sad. As much as I've been enjoying arranging our favourite tracks into a four-hour long Spotify list for the aforementioned wedding (when I could have been organising flowers, photography, invitations... and about a hundred other things we haven't even started on yet), I also value the lesser known tracks on every record - they're all part of the journey.

That afternoon I rejoiced in slowly and carefully peeling the plastic wrapping and price labels off my new babies, and then scrutinising the photos, illustrations and credits in the artwork. This is all part of the ritual. It's just not the same waiting for a bunch of digital files to drop into your "purchased" folder. I've even been known to buy two physical copies of the same album - one for playing, one autographed and never played... until ten years later, when Mr Hayley went rummaging through my CD collection without my consent. Well, I can tell you, he didn't know what hit him when I discovered the (previously) unplayed version stuffed in his glove compartment.

Anyhow, I only meant to post those links, but it seems that when it comes to music I can get carried away. Have a read.

Apparently I'm on the Guardian's list of female science bloggers

2010-12-07T13:27:00.001Z

So apparently I'm on the "Guardian's" (Guardian? Never heard of it...) list of female science bloggers. Yeah, that exists.

Only took me three months to realise. Thanks to Mark Hahnel at Science 3.0 for pointing it out.

The point of the list, by the way, was to prove that girls are blogging - despite recent evidence to the contrary.

Martin Robbins goes on to ask why it is that more haven't broken through... My personal feeling is that women are too busy in the kitchen, or sewing curtains etc. Ahem.

Crowdfunding sci comm

2010-11-25T15:13:00.013Z

Times are hard. Competition for science communication funding is tough. And I know because I just sat on a funding panel. We received far more applications than we were expecting and reviewed some genuinely great applications that didn't even get as far as an interview.

So what to do?

Well, it looks like we're going to have to start thinking outside the box. There are other disciplines/industries where funds are just as scarce. Arts budgets aren't exactly doing well out of the current economic situation. And the music industry has been having to adapt to the digital world for quite some time.

Actually, it's all my dabblings in new music via the science-music phenomenon that is Geek Pop that have got me thinking about innovative funding schemes and how they might be adapted to suit science communicators' needs. In August this year, one of our Geek Pop 2010 artists, Martin Austwick (masquerading as his alter-ego The Sound of the Ladies), released his album We Went to the Bottom of the Ocean on Bandcamp. I'd already noticed other artists selling their wares on the site. But this was the first time I'd really appreciated its benefits. Artists sell their music directly to fans, retaining complete ownership over their material, and BandCamp only pinches 15% for itself (much less than iTunes, for example). Seems like an okay deal.

The interesting thing is that Martin was marketing his album as "pay-what-you-like", without a minimum spend - the album could effectively be downloaded for free. Now, I've exchanged a couple of emails with Martin on the subject and although, understandably, he didn't want me to divulge the exact figures on my blog, he's hinted that people stumped up enough cash to keep him in biscuits for a while.

"As an artist who doesn't live from their music, I would consider anybody listening to my music a minor success, anyone paying for my music an adequate success, the money I make covering costs a great success, and the money covering my time investment (or what I think it's worth) an incredible success. Let's just say I'm somewhere between "great" and "incredible", where I suspect most musicians are nowadays..."

He also sent me some rather geeky back-of-the-envelope statistics:

20% of people paid
The average price paid (for those who paid at all) was £4.40, standard deviation £3
Including unpaid downloads, the average price paid was £1.20

BandCamp claims that on average people pay 50% more than the minimum spend (okay, quick bit of maths: 1.5 x 0 = 0 in Martin's case, but let's assume they're talking about people who actually set a minimum price).

What does all this tell us? Some people will pay/donate for music online, even if they can get the same music for free, but possibly Martin was undervaluing himself. Interestingly, people were very happy to pay a tenner for his limited edition physical albums, but it's perhaps understandable given that digital goods generally come without all the lovely artwork. And a download is never going to be quite as pleasing as adding a sparkly new CD to your shelf.

So that's music downloads. What about other digital wares? Well, publishers of online news sites are still very much testing the water when it comes to charging for content. We all know the Times paywall story but here's an update - it looks like subscriber figures have dropped by more than 90% with the introduction of paid content but more than 200,000 people are paying. But that's news, and it's news that you can only get by paying (unless, of course, you decide to go elsewhere). So how about a blog or, let's see, a podcast...

Well, as it happens, we've done our own little experiment where podcasts are concerned and whaddya know? It worked. We asked Geek Pop listeners for £107 to pay for our PRS podcasting licence, and they gave it to us. Just like that. I mean, I won't pretend it wasn't a bit scary. You're basically setting yourself up for rejection. "What if no one donates?" and "Are we kidding ourselves if we think people will actually pay for this?" were both thoughts that went through my head. As it turned out, people were more than happy not only to donate the odd pound here and there, but to donate in *double figures*. I nearly cried. So we are now officially "Geek Pop - Funded by You".

That, however, is nothing compared to what sci-rap star Baba Brinkman is trying to do. Bear in mind that Baba has already secured a sizeable grant from the Wellcome Trust to run this project:

which will produce a series of videos to accompany his Rap Guide to Evolution. Now he's trying to source another £10k (£10k!) to make them even better.

"I have partnered with a website called "Crowdfunder" to run a campaign to raise an additional £10,000 to increase the production value of these videos. If we can hit our target in 60 days, the end result will be something amazing. If we fail to hit the target, the money is all returned to the funders and we fall back on the Wellcome Trust grant, which will still be enough to complete a good finished product, just one with a lot less mojo."

Well, I thought, this is mighty ambitious! And he wants to give it back if he makes a penny less? Blimey. But people are donating - oh yes they are, and not in insubstantial amounts. After sending along a tenner yesterday, I did a double-take on the counter and it was up to £2,181 after just 74 donations, which - hang on, another quick bit of maths - means people are donating nearly £30 each on average. Go Baba!

Clearly, this super-ambitious level of crowdfunding is not going to work for all of us. Would people pay for a blog, for example? I don't know - maybe if they believed they couldn't get that content anywhere else. (I would definitely pay for this or this, for instance, but they're not exactly filled to the brim with science. They're just nuts.) And it goes without saying that you can't just set up an online donations page and expect people to throw money at you for any old rubbish. Baba's got some considerable credits to his name, and Geek Pop has been churning out podcasts for over a year, so people know - approximately - what they're paying for.

And as we've seen, people will pay for what they believe to be good content. The obvious difficulty is that if every blog, podcast and science communication project under the sun starts asking its fans to put their hands in their pockets "pay-what-you-can" could very swiftly become tiresome. But for now, it's at least an option to explore.

Anyway, I'm certainly no expert on all of this, but from what I've learned so far, these are some things to think about when considering crowdfunding:

Give something in exchange: pay-what-you-can works for BandCamp because fans are getting an album or a single that they've probably already heard via streaming. Paying for a podcast or a future sci comm project is slightly different in that you're asking to pay people for something that hasn't happened yet... and might be crap. So give something back immediately. We gave some unheard excerpts from the podcast; not much, but a gesture. Baba has a clever tiered strategy of offering digital downloads, physical DVDs, or even inclusion in his videos, depending on how much you donate.
Set a target and show your progress: you need to show people that others are already donating. Plus, who'd be cruel enough to leave you dangling at 95% if you only had a fiver left to go? We saw donations to our podcasting fund flood in after we reached the half-way point, perhaps because our fans saw that the finish line was in sight and wanted to help us get there.
Be grateful! Always remember to say thank you - it's only polite!

Oh, and I'd love to hear about other people's experiences of crowdfunding, if they have any.

Science and the arts: Geek Crafters

2010-11-16T13:26:00.004Z

The Geek Revolution, it seems, is coming. We've been banging on about it at Geek Pop for ages, but now that it's actually happening and the likes of Jonathan Ross and Daniel Radcliffe are standing up for all things geeky and sciencey, it's a bit overwhelming.

Oh, everyone is a geek these days. You can't walk down the street without bumping into someone with thick-rimmed glasses and a side-parting.

So what now to stand out from the geek masses? To separate yourself from the students, the celebrities, the geek fashionistas? What now must the true geek do to demonstrate her devotion to the pursuit of nerdery? To show that she knows geekdom is not just a hairstyle or a cardigan fetish, but a way of life.

Er, well. For my part, I've bought a sewing machine.

Oooh, shiny, shiny...

Ahem. Right, so what's this got to do with geekery? Well, I have to admit that the reason I bought a sewing machine was to make my own curtains and cushion covers. A little nerdy in itself perhaps, but nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, I thought some arts and crafts would provide some light relief from all the hardcore science I have deal with on a daily basis.

Then I discovered THIS.

Okay, for those of you who can never be bothered to click on links, let's try that again. THIS.

Spoonflower.com Amazing. It's nothing to do with spoons, or flowers, but it is AWESOME. The idea is: you design your own (nerd) fabric, upload it, and then they digitally print it for you, post it to you, and you make cushion covers/tea towels/pants*/whatever out of it. Or if you're lazy like me, you just pay to use other people's nerd designs. Needless to say, everyone I know is getting tea towels for Christmas this year. I just have to decide whether to make them out of this:

Or this:

And, well, I can't pretend I haven't considered this:

But what's struck me since I purchased my Singer is that the whole "geek craft" scene is huge. Perhaps it all started with those giant microbe plushies everyone was into a while back. Someone thought: I can make one of those. I'll just sew a couple of eyes onto a purple blob and hey presto! It's Epstein Barr! And lo, geek craft was born.

It's not just sewing though. A few years ago, I did an interview with a biologist/artist who was making and mailing out jewellery based on the structures of molecules. And if I've seen one science-themed cupcake, I've seen a hundred.

This is devotion to the cause indeed. Of course, some people - like the molecular jewellery lady - are actually making decent money out of their geek crafts. But most are just doing it for the hell of it. I like that level of dedication in a person. And it reeks of geek.

So perhaps this is what it takes these days to prove that you're not just a fleeting nerd. Maybe artistic expression of one's love for science/geekery is the ultimate demonstration of what it is to be a geek.

And P.S. I'm getting married in May. Any suggestions for geek items that I can craft from some of those Spoonflower fabrics? Bacteria bunting? Tardis chair ties? Yeah, I don't know what the point of chair ties is either, scratch that.

*Just for the Americans, I do mean "pants" (underwear) and not trousers, which aren't quite as silly.

They don't write 'em like they used to

2010-09-28T13:16:00.004+01:00

Tut. Papers, eh? They don't write 'em like they used to. I've been trawling through 1940s papers on hormones, and found myself quite taken with this paragraph from an old British Medical Journal article about the chemistry of the oestrogens.

“A few years ago a large number of doctors faced with such chemical terms would have risen in wrath - such wrath perhaps as that shown by the first audiences of Stravinsky. But Stravinsky has now signed a contract with Walt Disney and may soon become a part of the culture of the common people. Similarly we feel that the medical profession of tomorrow will be acclimatized to what are today regarded as the esoteric mysteries of the chemist.”

Stravinsky? What? It's like Jay-Z turning up in the BMJ today. (I've checked, by the way, and he's not there).

Also, check out the hand-drawn structures... cuuuute:

What happens if you replace all the science in a science story with giant rabbits?*

2010-09-24T18:18:00.004+01:00

Giant, baby-eating bunny rabbits have been discovered by US scientists. The pointy-eared child munchers may have applications in reducing greenhouse gas emissions.

Until recently, it was thought that giant, baby-eating bunny rabbits only existed in my mind. But now Professor Oogie and colleagues at the University of Boogie have proved the rabbits, which are about the size of buses, are happily munching their way through the nursery schools of New York.

Oogie's team used a giant, baby-eating bunny rabbit spotting machine to track down the animals. They combined 40,000 pictures taken using the extremely expensive machine with baby-eating statistics from the New York Nursery Database and concluded that 75% of babies that had been eaten in the last five years had in fact been eaten by giant, baby-eating bunny rabbits.

"It was a complete surprise when we realised where the babies were going," said Oogie. "But we hope to be able to put the giant, baby-eating bunny rabbits to good use."

The researchers have already installed giant, baby-eating bunny rabbits in several other US cities. If 75% of all babies could be eaten, they say, greenhouse gas emissions could be reduced by quite a lot.

*Purely for my own amusement. Done without a thought or a care at the end of a very frustrating Friday. Sorry.

Simplistic stereotypes: under the lab coat

2010-09-05T12:21:00.021+01:00

My significant other is an archaeologist. If you had to draw an archaeologist, you'd probably be tempted to draw someone who looks a bit like Indiana Jones. (Come on, wouldn't you?) Archaeologists are very aware of this. In the pub last weekend, I watched three archaeologists claim - dead pan - to own whips and Indy hats. One of them recalled an incident where he had had to scramble out of a snake pit. No one seriously believed him, of course. Although I've seen more than one person genuinely disappointed on hearing that Mr Hayley doesn't own a brush for dusting off bones.

The reason I'm telling you this is because I've been mulling over some things that were said about stereotypes at the Science Online conference this weekend - scientific stereotypes in particular. It was all the usual stuff about beardy old white men with mad hair. But what really got me thinking was one particular project that was mentioned - one in which children were asked to draw a scientist. Lots of them, unsurprisingly, drew men in lab coats with glasses on.

Now, if someone asked me to draw a scientist, I'd *think* what they were asking is for me to draw someone who would be recognisable as a scientist. Otherwise, how are they going to know it's a scientist? It's like asking me to draw a caricature. As a visual prop, a lab coat is brilliant because it's big, easy to draw and well known to be associated with the profession. I might also add some goggles/glasses and, who knows, a beard. (I like beards.) What I'm getting at is that the fact that people draw these things doesn't necessarily mean they believe them.

Another example: if someone asks you to draw a cat, what do you draw? This is what I'd draw:

Okay, this is probably over simplified (I'm not a fantastic artist). But the point is: you know what it is. How? Well, it has triangles for ears, whiskers, and a tail. Those are the three essential components for drawing a cat. It doesn't even have legs, for crying out loud. But you still know what it is. It doesn't mean for a moment you believe that cats are basically snowmen with whiskers.

The difference for archaeologists, I suppose, is that they probably don't mind being portrayed as Harrison Ford. Plenty of scientists, on the other hand, may object to being thought of as 60 year old men with beards... Thinking about it though: isn't it a bit harsh on 60-year-olds (and beards) that we consider them negative stereotypes?

Regarding the other aspects of the stereotype, the terribly confusing thing is that plenty of scientists do wear lab coats and have mad hair like the Doc in Back to the Future. I was in a chemistry lab at the University of Bristol only last week. Everyone in the lab was wearing lab coats and goggles - it's THE RULES. And you've only got to browse through the web pages of your local university's science department to track down some wild haired-looking fellows.

I'm playing devil's advocate a bit here. The trouble is that while people see cats all the time, they don't see scientists and archaeologists all the time. So perhaps they don't know whether the caricatures bear any resemblance to the real thing. They wouldn't have a clue whether scientists really have big beards and wear lab coats any more than if they have frying pans for faces. Or triangles for ears, for that matter.

But when it comes to this drawing a scientist thing, I'm not convinced it's exactly a fair test. There's one particular project circulating online - and it may or may not be the same one mentioned yesterday - in which some children were asked to draw "a scientist" before and after meeting some real-life researchers at FermiLab. It appears that the children changed their perceptions of scientists after meeting them, with a few more drawing women and many failing to include the obligatory lab coat in the second picture.

Now, first of all, there were only 31 kids and this wasn't published in any sort of a peer-reviewed journal, so we have to be very careful about what we extract from this study, but it's caught quite a bit of attention and so I'd be interested to know more about how it was done. From what I can tell, these kids were just trying to get the right answer - in both cases. (And I think it's worth pointing out that this "right answer" syndrome is also a concern for those surveying adults). They were asked to draw a scientist, so they tried to draw something they thought would look like a scientist to someone else. After they met some scientists at FermiLab, they had been "taught" that scientists were "fun" and "normal" - this is obvious from some of the comments the kids added to their drawings - so they tried to incorporate these aspects.

I do truly believe that going to FermiLab was a great experience for these kids. I'm sure it changed how they felt about scientists. But I'm just saying that you have to look a little bit closer than the obvious and try not to make sweeping conclusions. For instance, some of the kids in this "study" wrote very positive things about their perceptions of scientists in the first place. From a kid called Ryan (before the visit): "I think a scientist is smart and logical. I think scientists are wanting to discover new things. They want to investigate and to make a theory. They want to see if their theory is correct." Sweet, huh? It's not a negative description. And I wouldn't argue with it.

I'm not disputing that the stereotype of all scientists as white and male and old is a bad thing. Clearly, it would be beneficial to encourage people of other descriptions into the field. But it's a bit simplistic to say that everyone believes this stereotype through and through. Also though: we want kids to take up science, but do we really want them to believe that all scientists are funky-haired, Superdry-sporting hipsters? Do we want them to think all the stuff about chemicals and studying hard and needing to be unbiased is a myth and that science is really a right lark? Surely that would be misleading. Science is difficult and often boring. As is being an archaeologist.

I guess all I'm trying to point out is that both are misconceptions. All stereotypes are. Of course, it's important that people meet scientists and understand more about what they do and that they're not emotionless nerds or whatever, but people aren't as stupid as we sometimes make out. I'm sure if you probed further and asked what they thought scientists did at the end of the day after leaving the lab, they'd tell you they probably went home and sat in front of the telly or to the pub like the rest of us.

Massive caterpillar

2010-08-11T10:26:00.005+01:00

Just to prove that I'm not a complete animal-hater (as recent Geek Pop podcasts might suggest), and as a nod to Sounds of Science colleague Jim's new bug blog, I'm posting pics of a MASSIVE green caterpillar found by holiday buddies in Ontario, Canada.

We watched Monarch butterflies sunning themselves on the decking at our cottage by the lake in Haliburton and were curious as to whether these caterpillars might eventually BE Monarchs. Perhaps Jim, or someone else, can tell me?

Photos courtesy of Megzy-Pegzy

Thoughts on social media piety

2010-07-26T09:24:00.018+01:00

Having attended rather a lot of multimedia/multiplatform sessions at various conferences and events over the past two or three years, I was somewhat sceptical as to what the UKCSJ's "Multiplatform Working" session could offer me. To be honest, my main reason for attending was that it was in the same room as the Creative Feature Writing session I'd just sat through, and I couldn't much be bothered to move for the alternative, which promised to be another variation on the theme of Death, Death and More Death (of traditional media).

I do appreciate that it's difficult to avoid repetition at these sorts of events, especially where social media are concerned. Perhaps, I thought as I was sitting there, it's because the folks who do all the scoffing at the mention of the word "Twitter" never actually make the effort to check it out and consider it for its merits. Consequently, they end up in the next multiplatform session scoffing at the mention of the word Twitter while some poor, weary soul tries to espouse its merits. And you can't attend one of these sessions without a mention of the transition from "push" to "pull" media (broadcast is "push", social media is "pull", read Anderson for the difference). It can get tiresome - thus @ayasawada and I exchanged some knowing looks...

That said, the whole hour-long session was worth it just for Christian Payne's five-minute slot, which was, itself, a perfect metaphor for social media - fast, fun and fascinating to everyone who knows anything about it, and (I guess) completely baffling to everyone else. This guy is literally unable to contain his enthusiasm for social media, and it's infectious. He told several anecdotes about stories he'd broken via live streaming or uploading and sharing online, which within minutes had been Tweeted and Facebooked around the world and caught the attention of major national and international media. It was thoroughly entertaining, even inspiring, to those of us who are regular social media users. What the scoffers thought of it, I can't imagine.

It got me thinking though. I've recently finished writing a chapter on social media in science communication for a Cambridge University Press book. This was a guide for scientists, so I had to be very careful not to assume too much knowledge (a weird role reversal considering my experiences as a science writer). Thus, I've been worrying that the chapter may seem too basic for some. It seems that in the science communication world - probably much as in the general population - there's a huge deficit between those who are permanently plugged into the networks and those who wouldn't know a Facebook status if it hit them in the... face.

And what does our science communication teaching tell us about knowledge deficits...? BAD! WRONG! They must never be mentioned! (See Alice Bell's reflections on the deficit model as a big old pile of poo for discussion of this). Okay, so perhaps compared to knowing about science, it's not so imperative for everyone to know about social media. BUT, it does suggest a different approach for those so keen to extol the benefits of Facebook, You Tube, AudioBoo et al. And considering this, I've started to feel a little guilty about my gleeful mocking of those who scoff at Twitter, and those knowing looks.

Much like science communicators, perhaps enthusiastic, intravenous drip-type social media users need to try "engaging" uninterested parties rather than rolling their eyes at them - generating excitement about what it can do (like Payne) but also listening to what those parties have to say about it, and taking it on board. (Perhaps every social media panel we assemble needs a technophobe...) Also, as with science, you could make an argument that social media is not for everyone. Is it a case of saying that if you explain the benefits well enough, people will be interested? Or do we have to understand that some people just aren't, and respect that?

Ooh, also, more than anything else so that I can find it again, here's the Twitter transcript for #ukcsj.

Robot folding towels

2010-07-20T19:46:00.001+01:00

That is all.

The Lacks book

2010-07-01T17:50:00.002+01:00

Just to say I finished the Lacks book mentioned in my last post ages ago. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since. Not just the story, but the STORY. I mean, the fact that this is a science book that actually has a story. A real one. I won't spoil anyone's enjoyment except to say that it's very, very good. And you should all read it.

Also, I'm very, very jealous that I haven't come across such a story thus far in my science writing career. Must try harder.

Back at #cheltscifest

2010-06-14T17:06:00.004+01:00

So, we were back at Cheltenham Science Festival again this year to edit the festival newsletter, the Litmus Paper. And not just back; back in style. We were given the full run of the press room this year, which had, to our amazement, a KETTLE, POT PLANTS and - wait for it - WINDOWS. Wonders will never cease.

Anyway, I was glad to see that the hashtag #cheltscifest for Cheltenham Science Festival had really taken off this year, resulting in hundreds of tweets for us to choose from for our Festival Feed section - instead of us having to use boring comments about the weather and train delays. All the tweets, and the rest of the Litmus, by the way, can be found in the Litmus archives for 2010.

It being the first week of the World Cup, we managed to crowbar in some football science, under the yawnworthy title of You Must Be Kicking (see right). Unfortunately, as we all know, England's competition campaign was more akin to the original title of the column i.e. You Must Be Kidding.

My highlight of the week - okay, the ONLY thing I got to go and see at all what with the kerfuffle of editing a daily paper - was Rebecca Skloot in Saturday afternoon's science writing talk. I've already ordered her book on Amazon. It's about Henrietta Lacks, the lady whose cells were used to create the immortal HeLa cell line - HeLa has made incredibly important contributions to science but never earned Henrietta, who died of cervical cancer, a penny.

And after all the anticipation of the arrival of guest director Brian Cox (Brian Cox OBE - announced on the day of his visit), the man couldn't be persuaded to speak to "anyone" in the media. Especially not the likes of us. (Although I notice he managed to find a couple of minutes for the Times...)

Finally, and most importantly, it was my birthday, so we consumed an extraordinary amount of cake, including this one (below). Thanks to my friend Cielle, who baked it and stuck all the Smarties on it.
Oooh, and a quick thanks to all the volunteers, who were brilliant this year (they did, by the way, write the whole damn thing) and never missed a deadline.

Modern Masters

2010-05-20T16:17:00.008+01:00

This has less to do with science and the arts than with just arts, but I'm a great believer in expanding my horizons, so...

I've been watching Modern Masters with Alistair Sooke. For want of a better word it is BRILLIANT. To be honest, I've never known much about modern art. I know I like Dali, especially those ones with the really tall elephants. And I know I hate that 'Squares with Concentric Rings' painting by Kandinsky that turned up on the wall of every house I ever rented.

But having watched two episodes of Modern Masters - on Matisse and Picasso - I'm absolutely itching to get to a modern art museum. (As it turns out the Museum of Modern Art in Paris has today been burgled so I'll bear that in mind before embarking on any sort of art expedition).

What's interesting though is that it's Sooke who has really sparked this sudden need to know more. He's engaging, energetic, frequently makes connections between art and its influence on other aspects of culture (fashion, architecture) and, crucially, not some old fuddy-duddy standing in front of a painting talking about light and perspective. Okay. He does do some standing in front of paintings, but it's much more vigorous than any art critics I've seen...

Anyway, the point is: it's the communication that's the key, as always. I feel like the modern art skeptic who's been converted overnight into an enthusiastic amateur. If this was science communication, I'd be a myth, surely? Let's all take a lesson from Sooke.

And watch the programme. Honestly, you won't regret it.

Science and the arts (III): Sci-screen

2010-04-26T09:41:00.012+01:00

Science in films and on the telly has long been a pet topic on this blog - mostly in thinly veiled attempts to crowbar in reviews of Doctor Who and Torchwood, yes, but a pet topic all the same. So it's pleasing to me to see that science on screen is starting to become "a thing". Check this out:

[click to enlarge]

That's the current programme for Reading SciScreen, a series of film showings, each of which includes "a chat with a scientist in the know". It's supported by the British Science Association.

Now, first let me make clear that I'm not sure how I personally feel about post-show discussions. I once saw a terrible student play at Warwick Arts Centre, after which the audience was invited to comment on the performance and suggest alternative storylines. No one, of course, mentioned the embarrassing over-acting and the only people who spoke up had posh accents and pointless quibbles with the script - show-offs, I thought. I also had the distinct impression that half of the audience (myself included) had failed to realise that this was one of those "interactive" events where we were expected to make a contribution, and really just wanted to leave as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

I do, however, think that SciScreen is an interesting initiative. Besides the fact that the lure of a good science fiction film (Back to the Future!!!) might just be strong enough to entice some "lay" folks into the theatre to discuss science, I think it's kind of wonderful when science meets the realms of fantasy. For where do all the great ideas and hotly pursued dreams in science (invisibility, teleportation, time travel, immortality) come from if not from fiction?

Oh, you will still get the show-offs, and there will the odd nit-picker who wants to see scientists and science faithfully portrayed on screen - the sort of people for whom Fringe and Black Sheep can hold absolutely no enjoyment - but they should only serve to make the whole experience more enlightening. From a science communication perspective, you get discussion of the real science behind the fantasies, as well as discussion of the representation of science in the media/scientific stereotypes. Bonus.

The whole idea of viewing science as a part of culture is, in fact, one that I'm a great supporter of. I doubt, to be honest, you will see me itching to make a point in one of these post-show discussions; just as after the terrible, audience interactive play, I'd rather keep my head down. But I'm in favour in general of making science as much a part of this arguably loathsome tradition as anything else. Bring me the popcorn! I will just sit and silently snigger at everyone else...

Also...

The Bristol Branch of the British Science Association (of which I am a committee member) is seeking a volunteer to set up a programme of SciScreen events locally. Anyone?
The same sort of thing goes on in Cardiff, Edinburgh (I'm told) and Boston (huh).
Some thoughts from Iain Morland, one of the experts on a panel at a recent showing of 'A Single Man' at a SciScreen event in Cardiff.

My ugly appendix

2010-04-16T13:16:00.004+01:00

Oh good GRIEF. I have just come across this monster.

This, it seems, is what my giant, dangerously inflamed appendix would have looked like before it so spectacularly burst the other week, apparently flinging bits of gangrenous appendix left, right and centre around my otherwise "nicely peristalsing"* gut.

I've discovered one good thing about having your appendix removed though. When bits of you, like your appendix or fallopian tubes - apparently the ultrasound people aren't too good at telling the difference - get infected, they start accumulating a sort of fat wrapping, which protects the inflamed area. Which must mean that when they take it out, all the fat accumulated from elsewhere comes with it.** Ta-da: liposuction on the NHS!

*As the ultrasound lady noted several times during an hour-long examination of my achy, post-burst belly. It involved much prodding. Which hurt.
**Not scientifically verified, but here's hoping.

See Further

2010-03-22T16:18:00.005Z

Just quickly, it's good to see the Royal Society supporting creativity around science. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that they are celebrating their 350th anniversary with ten days of science and the arts events in collaboration with the Southbank Centre. And I tell you what, See Further festival in June promises to be quite something. Ten days?! This is unprecedented!

Obviously, being the sci-pop junkie that I am, I'm most interested in the music events and lo and behold, who should be playing but They Might Be Giants! Twice! I'm there.

Science and the arts (II): Passion for the project

2010-03-15T10:54:00.022Z

In which I get a bit emotional about last Thursday. And lament the lack of sci comm funding for creative projects.

I've resisted posting too much about Geek Pop on this blog, because most of you who know me know that for the past year every spare minute of my life has been consumed by this project, and are probably sick to the back teeth of hearing about it. (Some of you have been suffering my absence for it too, including the man now to be my husband :) - apologies). But I do just want to post a few musings on last week's Bristol gig, from a science communication perspective. In fact, *thinking aloud*, I might as well go right ahead and make this the first post in my much belated Science and the Arts series. (Mainly belated because of Geek Pop).

As others have recently noted, it's not easy finding funding for science communication projects full stop. And what I've learned is that it's even harder to find funding for something that is a bit outside the box. Or at least, doesn't tick many of the boxes on the forms of the usual sci comm funders. So I guess this is a post less about the intersection of science and the arts, and more about the practicalities and financial hazards of intersecting them - if you get my drift.

It's at this point that I should probably explain to anyone who doesn't know: Geek Pop started out as an online-only (virtual) music festival, featuring artists inspired by science. Not exactly the boxiest thing you've ever heard of, right? Which is why in the last year we've branched out into live science-inspired music events. And as terrifying as the idea was when we first had it - or when On Rails et al had it - it's proved to be one of the most enlightening and, finally, satisfying experiences in my science communication career so far. Perhaps I shouldn't speak too soon though, because we've got another gig coming up this Thursday...

So, faced with the task of finding sponsorship for these events, I went directly to the local geek community. Actually, given the small amount of time we were able to devote to securing sponsors for these things, we've been relatively successful - and will be eternally grateful to the British Science Association and Computer Geeks for their belief and support. I did also put in an application for Awards for All funding but was informed that our project was too arts-based - which I have to admit I kind of took as a compliment.

Still, everything we've done with Geek Pop this year has been done on what can only be described as a shoestring. We've called in favours from just about everyone we could think of... as well as plenty of people we couldn't - a prime example being the girl from the music department at Oxford (dragged in to help by a friend of the crew) who was good enough to bake 50 cupcakes and decorate them, beautifully, with various geek/music symbols including tiny computers and E=MC squareds.

Our focus has always been on up-and-coming and lesser known artists, who, fortunately enough for us, are much easier to persuade to play for you for nothing but a cupcake and a train ticket. But it's something I really dislike doing. I recently had to fight my own corner to get a higher fee for a writing project I am involved with, so it feels really hypocritical to ask someone else to work for free. I was saying exactly this, in fact, to Jonny Berliner and Matt Baker in the bar after the gig. Matt's immediate response was that his is the easiest job in the world - from his point of view, he just has to rock up, get on stage for half an hour and then enjoy the rest of the show. My job as funding co-ordinator/organiser/promoter/stage manager, on the other hand, is more of an all-year-round service. Which, incidentally, I'm also providing for free. Still, I figure it's my project, so I have to take the hit.

A big focus in science communication is sustainability, so what's the long term plan here? Well, to be honest, we can't count on anything at the moment. We're due to put in a couple more large grant applications in the next month or so, but if those come off, it's a bonus. The live gigs are only just about sustainable in their own right - with a bit of help, we can afford to hire the venues, pay the travel expenses and promote them, but not much else. And they're certainly not supporting all of our online endeavours. (Countless hours spent building websites; learning to use Photoshop, InDesign, Illustrator; recording and producing podcasts; Tweeting, Facebooking and MySpacing...) The ideal situation, of course, would be commercial sponsorship, and lots of it. But what we're doing is pretty niche, and still in its formative years. We probably need another successful year online and some more live events behind us before we can really go down that route.

So what it comes down to is passion. Do we love the project enough to keep plugging away at the expense of our sanity and weekends? Right after the Bristol gig I would have said emphatically "yes!", no question. Because the truth is, and I'm not exaggerating this, it was a genuine, roaring success. Everyone at that gig was transfixed. Matt and Jonny, and the rest, provided a rare kind of joy that night. I know, I know I'm biased, but it was at turns inspiring, intelligent, witty, endearing, stomach-achingly funny and heart-achingly beautiful. And it was, unashamedly, science - from the first chord of Jonny Berliner's awesome "Dark Matter" to the last lyric of Jon Chase's freestyle rap about photosynthesis... I've never felt as proud.

The high that comes with a success like that is, unsurprisingly, addictive. But once the dust settles and you realise you have to spend the whole year doing this all over again, possibly (probably, arguably) without payment, it's kind of soul-destroying. You start to wonder whether anyone really gets what you're trying to do. Sure, it's fun and it's entertaining, but there's a serious point - not one we're trying to ram down anyone's throat, but it's there all the same. This is a real, concerted attempt to embed science in culture; to show that we don't have to keep science and creativity apart, as if one might eat the other. Of course Geek Pop isn't going to single-handedly change the way we think about science, but on my thinking, some of us have got to start having a go.

I guess I'm in limbo then. On the one hand, I've got to get some perspective and realise there are more important things in my life than this project - and on the odd occasion I need reminding what those are (eating, sleeping, that sort of thing). But on the other hand, if I don't do it, who will?

Woefully slow

2010-03-09T17:38:00.003Z

Okay, I've been woefully slow at starting this whole science and the arts post thing. I will do it. I promise. There is, in fact, a post in progress. But for the moment, I'm sort of tied up organising a virtual science and music festival. Do check it out.

Science and the arts (I): new post series

2010-02-11T14:55:00.004Z

It is my intention, over the coming months, to start putting together a collection of posts about science at the intersection with the arts. I probably haven't thought this through carefully enough, but I'm going to try and publish one a week - we'll just have to see how that plan works out.

I've often thought if I was going to write a book it would be about science and creativity, but I've never really had the time to start exploring the subject properly. So what better place to begin than with a stream of randomly assimilated, half-informed blogs?

Seriously, though. These things will be properly researched and referenced, etc etc. Mostly. But, of course, I'll be saving all the best bits for my imaginary book. I mean, I wouldn't want to give away the really excellent stuff for free, would I? So what I guess I'm saying is this: if you want to read some possibly sub-standard science and the arts posts, but, crucially, without having to pay for them, you've come to the right place. Hooray!

Now, while I'm mulling over my first post, let me leave you with a snippet of my own science/arts project, Geek Pop festival, which merges science and music. Here's The Standards with the rather catchy 11 Dimensions, from last year.

Right, podcast-phobes, listen up (part 2)

2010-01-29T17:33:00.010Z

I'm repeatedly met with blank stares at the mention of the word "podcast". Even the techiest of techies can be at a loss when it comes to podcasts, it seems, so here is my attempt to demystify the whole business once and for all. In this post, I'm going to explain what a podcast is (and what it is not), how to use it, and what it's good for. There. Simple.

What a podcast is and what it is not...
A podcast is a piece of audio. Some publishers like to make video podcasts that they call vodcasts, but let's not concern ourselves with those for now. Like a television programme, the word "podcast" can refer to a series of audio shows, or just one audio file.

The clever thing about podcasts - talking now in the sense of a series - is that when you "subscribe", each new episode will be downloaded automatically and delivered to your computer without you having to go looking for it. (Just like if you have a favourite blog or news site and you add it to your Google homepage, new posts or articles will appear automatically... do the equivalent of sticking your fingers in your ears and going "la, la, la" if you've never heard of Google homepage).

A podcast is not something you would usually have to pay for. Although you can download it in the same way you would a music track in iTunes, it will usually be very clearly marked "Free". (Although there will be the odd exception). What's iTunes? We'll get to that...

So by subscribing you are not signing away your life or making yourself a target for a barrage of spam. In fact, podcast producers tend to know relatively little about their audiences, so unless you email to announce yourself, it's very unlikely they'll have a clue who you are.

How to use a podcast
Now this is the bit that seems to get everyone in a fluster. But honestly, it's not hard and I'm about to nurse you through it. First of all though, you need to decide how you want to listen to your podcasts. As far as I'm concerned, the big advantage over internet radio or listen again services is that you can take podcasts off your computer and carry them around with you on your iPod/other media player. And if this is what you want to do, you're going to need to find a way of doing it.

Thus, I introduce to you... iTunes! Or... Juice! (Other podcast downloading thingies are available). Look, they're not scary, there's no charge - unless you want to buy something, like music - all you have to do is press the download button and wait for it to arrive on your computer.

So just because I've always used iTunes, let's proceed along that route. It's very straightforward. Once you've downloaded iTunes, open it up. Now go to the iTunes store (click the little green thing on the left), choose Podcasts (top bar) and make your selection. When you've found one you want to listen to, just click "SUBSCRIBE" and the latest episode will start downloading into the "Podcasts" section of your library (see the little purple icon near the top left?). That's it. From now on, every time a new episode of that podcast is published it will just drop into your library. Ta da! (And if it turns out to be bilge, just right-click on the name of the podcast in your library and choose "Unsubscribe").

You can also search for a particular podcast in the "search" box (top right) or if you see an iTunes logo on someone's website, you can usually click on that to open their podcast page directly in iTunes.

Once you've downloaded the episode you want you can either play it right there and then or, if you have an iPod, listen to it in the same way you would a music file - just use your mouse to drag the file across to your iPod.

And if you just want to listen to podcasts on your computer, that's pretty simple, but you'll need to find them through the individual websites they are published on. Then it should be obvious how to listen online or download them as audio files.

What a podcast is good for
How much time have you got? Personally, I'm a fan of listening to podcasts while running - a really good talk show will take my mind off the uphills/burning in my lungs/gale force winds quite successfully.They're also excellent for filling a long journey or for carrying out some mindless task that requires very little concentration. Like cleaning the kitchen, I've been told.

There's also a podcast for just about every bizarre niche interest or, dare I say, fetish. You can stick to BBC radio comedy programmes if you like, but far more intriguing are the likes of "Answer Me This", "Creeping with Armstrong" and "Knitting History" (okay, I haven't actually listened to that last one, but it sounds fascinating, huh?).

Any questions, leave a comment - at the risk of spending the rest of my life answering questions about downloading podcasts...

Right, podcast-phobes, listen up (part 1)

2010-01-29T16:50:00.010Z

The word "podcast" seems to have a polarising effect on people in almost every situation I choose to use it. There are those for whom it refers to a component of their everyday media consumption, and those for whom it conjures nothing but confusion and technophobia. Thus, while I have been greedily gobbling up everything the RSS feeds can throw at me, others remain oblivious to this endless audio feast.

I am out to change this. But first, let me tell you what my reasons are.

Actually, first, let me tell you what my reasons are NOT. My reasons are NOT that I am continually frustrated by having to explain a relatively simple piece of technology over and over again (maybe a little bit). They are also NOT that I want to promote my own interests as a podcaster (oops). No. My reasons are that a) everyone could be so much less bored if they would only give podcasts a try and b) it would prove that I'm not surrounded by luddites, as is becoming my creeping suspicion.

I realise I've probably not started out on the best footing here - referring to podcast-phobes as luddites isn't going to help matters. Therefore, I shall begin with a completely non-condescending explanation of podcasts in a sparkly clean new post... to be continued...

Buster Keaton and the era of imagination

2010-01-26T09:31:00.007Z

On the weekend, some friends and I went to watch a silent movie "play-a-long" - the 1924 film Sherlock Jr accompanied by a mini-orchestra, with sound effects by the audience.

It was honestly one of the best things I've seen in ages. The play-a-long idea was brilliant, yes, but I'd never watched a full length silent movie before. It was quite simply mesmerising; the sheer invention and imagination of the film makers breathtaking. You've just got to watch this clip, which is from the main chase sequence of the film. (Iggy Pop didn't feature in the original version but I'm quite a fan, so I'll let it go.)

What struck me most was how much the kids in the audience loved it. They were absolutely enthralled from the word go. So enthralled, in fact, that there was barely a shake of a bell or squeeze of a balloon from them all the way through - the orchestra had to compensate for them - and every so often one of them would pipe up, "Mummy, how did he do that?" It was wonderful to see that something from a completely different era could still captivate a young audience.

On the way home, we all remarked upon how well the comedy translated. The kids obviously hadn't thought twice about the fact that there was no colour, or 3D, or CGI - they were quite happy watching a funny man on a bike, even in post-Avatar era. As were we. It was all in the timing, and the brilliance of Buster Keaton.

I don't know what this has to do with science communication really, but I just thought I'd share it... Perhaps it's a lesson in keeping things simple... Not even simple really, but, I guess, using your imagination and creativity over expensive stunts and effects.

Blimey, I sound old. Watch the film though.

Copenhagen etc

2010-01-11T15:23:00.003Z

In case you were wondering, the Copenhagen piece I was putting together was published over at Chemistry World last week. You can read it here.

Meanwhile, it appears the UK has been turned into something out of the Chronicles of Narnia (see sos_jim's snow geek below). Weather men are shouting about "The Big Freeze" and my housemates have been panic-buying milk and tins of tuna. (It seems they plan to live as cats when the snow apocalypse comes). Undoubtedly people will be using all this as another reason why global warming isn't happening... NEWSFLASH: climate change isn't all about warming; it basically means "bonkers" weather for Britain - as Giles Coren puts it.

Incidentally, I swear the Chronicles of Narnia was on at least five times over Christmas, and unfortunately didn't improve with multiple viewings.

I will write something more sensible soon. Toodlepip.

Copenhagen: as things start to hit the fan...

2009-12-17T15:53:00.004Z

Just a few bits and pieces I've stumbled across today:

A Copenhagen glossary for beginners - Wall Street Journal [link]

Kyoto lives again:
"Negotiations have been deadlocked for a week as developing countries resisted efforts to replace or downgrade the 1997 protocol, which places legally binding commitments on rich – but not poor – nations... In a victory for the developing world, negotiators will now move forward on a two-track basis, one part of which maintains the integrity of Kyoto." - The Guardian [link]

The Guardian also reports that the US is pledging (string-attached) cash to help developing countries adapt...
"The US is prepared to work with other countries to jointly mobilise $100bn a year by 2020," [Hilary] Clinton told a press conference... But she said the funds would only flow if there was a deal – and that there would only be a deal if it met certain American conditions... America's demand that China and other rapidly emerging countries provide documentation of its efforts to cut emissions." [link]

Don't just focus on CO2 (not strictly COP15 related but hey):
An interesting Nature Geoscience paper I'm writing about for Science for Environment Policy points out that including methane and nitrous oxides in greenhouse gas balance changes the game, and has some interesting policy implications. "The comparison between the carbon and GHG balance of continental Europe shows that current land management reduces the terrestrial GHG sink, which could otherwise offset non-biological GHG emissions. The increasing trend towards more intensive agriculture and a vulnerable forest stock of timber leads to the conclusion that the balance is likely to tip... Introducing land management policies aimed at reducing the emission of greenhouse gases should thus be a priority. This should be possible because most of the N2O emissions are linked to excessive fertilizer applications in croplands." - Nature Geoscience

Good to see children's TV getting in on the action - CBBC's Newsround [link]

Interesting tweets from Australian political journo @KarenMMiddleton...
...who appears to be tweeting from the conference itself. Inc:

"China lays cards on the table in spectacular fashion @ #cop15 declaring it won't hv anti-greenhouse efforts monitored. Sarkozy goes berserk" [16:16 today]

"ln-joke of #cop15 so far. Tshirt slogan 'don't square bracket my future'." [17:20 ish yesterday]

Copenhagen (again)

2009-12-16T11:12:00.005Z

The latest...

The president of the talks has quit:

"Denmark's energy minister Connie Hedegaard has quit as president of the climate change conference in Copenhagen. The United Nations confirmed Ms Hedegaard had resigned and announced the Danish prime minister Lars Rasmussen will take her place." - Channel 4 News [link]

Some nice new climate change graphics from the BBC [link]

The Telegraph summarises the sticking points:
"While it was originally hoped that a signed, sealed and delivered legally-binding international treaty could be agreed by the end of the talks in Copenhagen – after two years of negotiations – that is no longer a possibility. Leaders are now working towards a ''political agreement'' with the legal treaty to come later..." - Telegraph [link]

Getting pernickity:
"Stern carries a brief from Obama to start the clock in 2005. ...he will repeat his offer to cut US emissions by 17 per cent between 2005 and 2020. The Europeans say that's pathetic. It will only get US emissions back to around 1990 levels... whereas Europeans are promising 20 per cent cuts from 1990 to 2020... Stern has a different perspective. Having cut its emissions by 7 per cent already, the European Union is only offering a 13 per cent cut relative to 2005 - four points less than Uncle Sam." - New Scientist [link]

Even Arnie's getting involved now...
"I love giving speeches here, because I'm not the only one that has an accent." - You Tube [link]

And Prince Charles...
"...it would be wiser for Prince Charles to keep out of this debate." - The Spectator [link]

Continuing Copenhagen

2009-12-14T19:22:00.003Z

So the last few days I've been out of the loop again. Christmas + Copenhagen = a mess.

But just a few quick updates for today:

Talks in chaos, according to Huff Post earlier today:

"African countries have refused to continue negotiations unless talks on a second commitment period to the Kyoto Protocol are prioritized ahead of broader discussions... Australia, Japan and others have succeeded in stopping Kyoto Protocol discussions as a result. Of the two tracks of negotiations underway in Copenhagen the Kyoto Protocol is the only one which includes a mechanism for legally binding emissions reductions by rich countries." - Huffington Post [link]

Now an ambitious deal seems unlikely

"The UN and the chair of the conference, Denmark, tried hurriedly to repair the rifts as ministers began to arrive in Copenhagen for the high level political section of the talks. But after the talks were suspended for two hours, observers said that it looked increasingly unlikely that an ambitious deal would now be negotiated by Friday. - Guardian [link]

Perhaps Blair spoke to soon (from Sunday)

"Speaking in Copenhagen ahead of crucial talks between leaders this week: "There can be a deal at Copenhagen. There should be a deal. It will not be all that everyone wants. But it was never going to be. We should not make the best the enemy of the good.'" - HMGovernment website [link]

Twitter currently running at approx 4-6 #cop15 tweets per minute -TwitterSearch [link]

Copenhagen Day 3

2009-12-09T23:00:00.004Z

Okay, I'm back on the case today.

So, major splits appearing between developing and developed nations:

"Small island states and poor African nations vulnerable to climate impacts laid out demands for a legally-binding deal tougher than the Kyoto Protocol... Tuvalu's negotiator Ian Fry made clear that his country could accept nothing less than full discussion of its proposal for a new legal protocol, which was submitted to the UN climate convention six months ago... The call was backed by other members of the Association of Small Island States..." - BBC [link]

"...Fry demanded the meeting consider creating a legally binding Copenhagen Protocol that would enforce developing nation emission reductions and run alongside the Kyoto Protocol's demands on rich countries. China, India and Saudi Arabia opposed the move because they don't want to be legally bound to meet their emission reduction promises." - The Australian [link]

The EPA will regulate greenhouse gases without approval from congress:

"The EPA determined Monday that scientific evidence clearly shows they are endangering the health of Americans, and that the pollutants... should be regulated under the Clean Air Act. That means the EPA could regulate those gases without the approval of Congress. The EPA decision was welcomed by other nations in Copenhagen that have called on the U.S. to boost its efforts to cut greenhouse gas emissions, because it seemed President Barack Obama could act more quickly and bypass legislation slowly working through Congress." - Associated Press [link]

Denmark has a "Plan B":

"The Danish government is at the centre of a row over a draft document which some activists are claiming could be one of the default declarations for the Copenhagen summit... The Danish government have been discussing the draft, which it calls The Copenhagen Agreement, privately with a number of countries... It is Denmark's insurance policy - their Plan B - in case the main talks fail. Even so, some developing countries are angry it is being considered at all." - Channel 4 News [link]

China in row with US:

"President Obama's top climate change negotiator arrived in Copenhagen Wednesday swinging back at Chinese demands for the United States to increase its emission reduction goals... Chinese officials have said they will spring to action if the United States contributes significantly to a proposed $10 billion a year fund to help vulnerable countries adapt to climate change policies... Stern dismissed the idea that U.S. taxpayer money would eventually end up in China, which currently holds nearly $800 billion in U.S. debt." - FOXNews [link]

Copenhagen Day 2

2009-12-09T12:11:00.005Z

Um. I've completely failed you. Already. But, hey, how about a picture of the recent zombie apocalypse in Bristol instead?

P.S. This is possibly more relevant than any of us know. There's just no accounting for what will happen if we go over the 2C barrier.

Copenhagen Day 1

2009-12-07T18:38:00.013Z

Right. I'm going to be writing a feature on the Copenhagen climate talks over the Christmas break and will be doing my best to keep abreast of events over the next couple of weeks. So this is what I'm going to do: each evening, I will post any useful links I've found to the day's highlights on this blog. This way, I can keep track of what's happened and you lot can access a nice simple daily digest.

In return, it'd be good if people would post links to the most useful and interesting sources they have come across on their travels around the interwebs.

Day One:

(Including some more general resources to get us started).

Day one reflections from the HMGovernment website:

"The White House said that the President would arrive for the final day of official negotiations on 18 December rather this Wednesday, 9 December, as originally planned.

The Financial Times said the news had 'dramatically raised' the prospects of a global deal on climate change...

The Economic Times of India said that Mr Obama's decision showed 'commitment' by the US." [link]

"The [UK] Prime Minister said that Copenhagen must achieve a comprehensive and global agreement that is then converted to an internationally legally binding treaty 'in no more than six months'." [link]

From the BBC:

"...on the first day of the summit, divisions were evident between various blocs, with small island states indicating they would not accept anything less than a legally binding deal including deep cuts in emissions.

In July, the G8 bloc of industrialised countries and some major developing countries adopted a target of keeping the global average temperature rise since pre-industrial times to 2C.

However, small island states think this would cause serious climate impacts from rising sea levels, and have been arguing for a lower target of 1.5C. A number of African nations also back the lower target." [link]

From the Guardian:

A whole section devoted to Copenhagen [link]

An interactive guide to Copenhagen [link]

Reuters:

"Individuals should not wait for world leaders to agree on measures to fight climate change, but should start taking actions themselves, the winner of this year's Nobel Prize for economics said on Monday." [link]

From the UNFCCC website:

A speeches archive, including opening address from Denmark's PM [link]

Live webcasts of proceedings [link]

Twitter:

The Guardian's list of important Copenhagen tweeters [link]

#cop15 (currently about 1 tweet every 2-3 seconds when I last looked) [link]

So those are my links as of 19:46 on Day One. Let me know what else you find!

I forgot: I interviewed a Nobel Prize winner!

2009-11-03T16:56:00.004Z

I managed to forget completely about this, but early in the year I did an interview with Peter Agre, a lovely man who also happens to be a Nobel Prize winner. (Oh, and the President of the AAAS).

Agre picked up the award in 2003 for his "serendipitous" discovery of aquaporins - water channel proteins in cells - which had far-reaching implications for neuroscience.

Unfortunately, it looks like I don't get a byline (boo!) but here's the pdf - the quality's not the best, mind.

What an honour.

Peaches Geldof's shaky grasp of science

2009-11-02T19:52:00.006Z

Well done Marina Hyde for picking up on Peaches Geldof's shaky grasp of science in the Guardian last week. Not only did Ms Geldof manage to equate quantum physics and the Big Bang with scientology, as Hyde points out, she also claimed that at the Large Hadron Collider "they" (being "the scientists", I guess) are "trying to make a black hole".

Um. I'm not a physicist, but I don't think they're actually trying to make a black hole - or at least, that's not the main aim. The main aim, as Geek Dad rightly points out, is to find the Higg's boson - the subatomic particle, that, if identified, would help fill in the gaps in the Standard Model of the atom.

Unfortunately, presenter Fearne Cotton wasn't equipped to point out her mistakes. Which is fair enough, being a TV presenter and all.

I'm not saying you can't be interested in this stuff if you're not a scientist. But it did seem as though Peaches was far too concerned with showing off her "weird" personality and, presumably, "weird" interests - oh it's so weird to be interested in physics - that she forgot to look up the details.

Given the influence of celebrity, it's vaguely worrying.

All star turn out (briefly)

2009-10-28T22:00:00.001Z

Amazing. We (at Sounds of Science) planned a “Night Under the Stars” and, unbelievably, got a clear, dry night – at least until about 9.30pm. Luckily, by this time, most people had managed to get a quick peep through the telescope at the Moon and Jupiter. And thanks to ExplorerDome, we had already been able to entertain our crowd in something resembling a giant womb – check out the picture below. (Actually an inflatable planetarium).

It was good to see so many people turn up who had no prior knowledge of astronomy. And that Jim’s 6am slot on Original 106.5 (there’s a clip here) wasn’t wasted… the one man it attracted said he thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Thanks to IOP for providing the great star guide leaflets, and some rather lovely pin badges, which proved particularly popular. And well done to presenter Matina for successfully creating a comet in her hands-on science demonstration – here’s everyone crowding round to look.

Unfortunately, given the prerequisite of it being dark for the outdoor star spotting, there are no pictures of us all enjoying this part of the show.

Anyone who’s reading this after attending the show should definitely check out the International Year of Astronomy web pages for further info. And if you’re keen to hear more from Jim geeking out about space, he can normally be found doing this at least once a month on the Geek Pop podcast, which straddles science and music, usually with quite a heavy space bias (Pink Floyd’s ‘Eclipse’ etc etc). Or if you want something specifically astronomy based, we recommend the US podcast Astronomy Cast.

Fringe: minor quibbles

2009-10-16T15:47:00.004+01:00

Yeah, so I discovered Fringe, recently... It's not the most scientifically accurate of programmes is it? Nevertheless, I've managed to get ever so slightly hooked.

This is really just to get a few minor annoyances out of the way.

1) Words in title sequence include "nanotechnology". Really? Fringe science? Actually, I'd say nanotech was firmly in the middle of the carpet, but anyhoo.

2) Exactly what is Walter I-Spent-17-Years-In-A-Psychiatric-Hospital-But-Can-Still-Remember-Where-I-Put-My-Magnetic-Neurostimulator-Which-Incidentally-Still-Works Bishop's area of expertise? "Ah, this reminds me of an experiment I was working on in 1977." Every time. Amazing.

3) Astrid.

4) Um, sorry to get all feminist. BUT. FBI Agent Olivia Dunham climbing "naked" (actually, she wears functional but mildly alluring black underwear) into a tank of... oh, I don't know... so she can "sync" her brain with her dead boyfriend?

So, those (and a few other things) aside, I'm quite enjoying it. Even with Pacey from Dawson's Creek in it.

NanoMed: hype and healthy imagination

2009-10-06T10:45:00.006+01:00

So, this was the scene for the second working group meeting on Communication for the NanoMed project I've been involved in. Idyllic, isn't it?

By way of explanation, a group of about 15 of us arrived in Garmisch-Partenkirchen in Germany last week to discuss a set of recommendations for communicating about nanomedicine. The aim is to produce a document, by the end of October, that will inform policymaking in the EU. Our group is one of five - the others are Patient Needs, Ethics and Societal Impact, Economic Impact and Regulation.

Despite the distractions of mountain and lake, we were remarkably productive and have now managed to put together an outline of our recommendations ahead of the final meeting in November. Since they are far from set in stone, I won't hint at what these might be, but something quite interesting that arose from the meeting was the recognition of a kind of tension between hype and healthy imagination surrounding new technologies.

One of the case studies we looked at included a film featuring futuristic notions about nanomedicine applications - in particular, a kind of in-body monitoring system operated by a touchscreen on the back of the user's hand. According to the film, such a system would employ nanotechnology to diagnose and monitor disease and could, for instance, help diabetics to keep tabs on their blood sugar levels.

Whilst the idea generated some degree of merriment and scepticism around the table, there was also very real concern about giving patients false hope. This was countered by two arguments: first, that hope is an important aspect of patient psychology, and secondly, that imagination and creativity are what drive advances in science and technology. (Support for this second argument can be seen in the development of technologies inspired by Star Trek).

Personally, I think it's important to dream, but then I would say that - I'm a "creative". We can't stop people creating these kinds of fantastic visions - how boring would the world of science communication (and the world in general) be if we did? At the same time, it's obviously important to take a measured approach and help people to understand how close to reality these visions actually are. In the end, we all had to agree to disagree and, in fact, I think this is probably the right outcome.

All greenwashed out

2009-08-25T09:20:00.009+01:00

Last weekend I got a phone call that somehow resulted in me agreeing to organise a science/comedy panel show about greenwashing at Green Man Festival - the following weekend. This'll be okay, I thought. I'm a writer. I know about environmental stuff. So I'll just write a bunch of questions, get some comedians along and Bob's your uncle - one science/comedy panel show.

Ha.

Thing is, greenwashing isn't innately that funny. If you haven't come across the term, it basically refers to organisations pretending to be green for some sort of benefit, such as more customers, more voters etc. One example that eventually made it into the quiz was the stationer Ryman and its "carbon-neutral paper". Actually, the paper is grown on monoculture eucalyptus plantations on the edge of the Amazon and isn't recycled in any way. (Thanks Fred Pearce of the Guardian). So it's not what you'd call a cheap joke. Which is why co-host Jim and I decided to insert some real cheap jokes. Hoorah!

Yep. Faced with the prospect of a science/comedy panel show containing zero comedy, we resorted to toilet humour. We dreamed up some imaginary companies - so as to avoid getting sued - and fashioned some crude props, resulting in the Green Spin round, in which up-and-coming nerd comedian Chris Dunford was forced to sell giant tissues on the basis of their environmental credentials. So where's the toilet humour? Er. These were Man Sized Tissues... made by the Wan Corporation. Still not getting it? Ask Jim to explain it to you because I'm too polite.

To his credit, Chris' sales pitch was one of the funniest things I've seen in a while, only surpassed by his ad-libbed stand-up routine later that evening, whilst the man from Winter North Atlantic took an extraordinarily long time setting up what was essentially a keyboard.

But what's my point? I guess it comes back to an issue that I touched on in an earlier post. It's difficult to make jokes about science because if they're truly going to be jokes about science you risk alienating half your audience with ideas and terminology they're unfamiliar with. I guess greenwashing isn't such a hard concept to grasp, but some of the bits that made me laugh the hardest weren't exactly grounded in science e.g. comedy poet Nathan Filer in the "Complete the Slogan" round. Question: ______-friendly to ______-free (General Motors). Nathan's answer: "Is it 'Be Friendly to Jeff-free?'" (Real answer: Gas-friendly to gas-free).

All in all, we were pretty happy with how it went. It was like a poorly edited Mock the Week with more obvious cheating. (That sounds like a bad thing, but it's a good thing, I think.) And the audience seemed to enjoy it. I think you just have to realise that you can't crowbar in the science to these things. You have to let everyone do what they do best and if your main aim is comedy then you have to get the best comedians you can find and let them go wild. Any science that stays in is a bonus.

Why I'm a writer, not a scientist

2009-08-08T10:24:00.000+01:00

A scientist told me recently that nothing would ever convince him to leave science - it is, he claimed, the most exciting job in the world. He couldn't understand why, having completed undergraduate studies in biological sciences, I would have wanted to do anything else. When I admitted I had spent a brief spell in a lab and decided it wasn't for me - I quickly turned from research to reporting on it - it filled him with nothing but grief.

It's not that I don't find science interesting (obviously), it's that I find too much of it interesting. Whereas some people get their kicks from learning as much as they can about one particular thing, I get mine from learning as much as I can about lots of different things. Neither is better. I'm just saying: I like writing because I get to explore widely different areas of science.

I'm sure there are plenty of scientists who can't understand the need for science journalists or science communicators at all, who think that scientists themselves would do a better job. Let's get it straight. Science journalists don't necessarily think that they can explain a piece of research better than the scientist who did the research, although in some cases that may be true. Rather, they have (hopefully) an unbiased perspective and an understanding of their audience.

More to the point though: we like doing it. For a scientist trying to juggle research with writing academic papers and supervising PhD students, writing newspaper and magazine articles on the side isn't going to be a lot of fun. (There are some mad people who try to do both and claim to enjoy it, but I can't believe it. Or, at least, something's going to have to give eventually.) But we do it because it's our job and - need I say it again? - we like it. That's not to say anyone who likes writing about science will make a good science writer, but it's pretty much a condition of being one. Because not many of us make our millions this way.

There seems to be a school of thought that says that the best science communicators are scientists - real, in-the-lab, doing experiments, writing academic papers-type scientists. Maybe it's true. But, crucially, not all scientists are great communicators, or even half-decent communicators. And not all scientists want to communicate about their science, however exciting it may be. Most of them probably just want to go down the pub at the end of the day. (See, we do have something in common). Thus, there's an awful lot of science that wouldn't get communicated if someone else didn't do it.

And who's to say that you need to have spent a decade in a lab to make a good science writer? What's wrong with a little perspective? A good grasp on what society thinks is important? The ability to make connections between different areas of research and between different disciplines entirely? All just as important as understanding the scientific process.

Of course, scientists should be wary of bad journalists who don't do their research and twist what has been said, but there are also a lot of good journalists, especially among specialist science writers. And having claimed - very speculatively - that some scientists don't see the point of science writers, most scientists I speak to are very respectful of what I do. That said, for the most part, neither of us would rather be doing the other one's job.

Incidentally, whether or not it's more important to actually do the science or report on it is, I think, a moot point. We each have to do the things that we enjoy, don't we? And no matter how important the science itself may be, it's got to be reported, right? Unless we're living in some sort of crazy-ass society where we put billions of pounds/dollars/[repeat for every currency so as not to offend] into research that nobody ever gets to hear about, I'd say "yes".

I must point out that I'm not trying to drive any sort of a wedge between scientists and the media - as if there wasn't a huge, great doorstep-sized wedge there already - I'm just trying to say that I think we sometimes misunderstand each other. Science writers don't write about science because they're failed scientists. They do it because it's fascinating, because it gives them something different to think about each day, because they get a buzz out of learning something new and telling people about it. Or am I only speaking for myself?

So, in a round about sort of way, I'm trying to explain that I won't be leaving science writing for science - ever. As far as I'm concerned, it's the most exciting job in the world.

The quest for The Ultimate Button (not the sort you wear, the sort you click)

2009-07-17T12:30:00.012+01:00

A friend of mine, who may be found under the guise of @LovelyButtons on Twitter, is desperately seeking The Ultimate Button - or set of. As I have known this friend for many years (more than 20, actually), I have decided to do my best to help her in her quest. These (click) rather sleek-looking Apple Mac keyboard buttons are some of @LovelyButtons' most wanted, but are they really The Ultimate Buttons? Hmmm.

It all started with cash registers. As a child, @LovelyButtons had grand aspirations of becoming a shop assistant one day, so she could take charge of one of these glorious button machines. As it happened, @LovelyButtons turned out to be something of a maths whizz and is currently en route to a career as an accountant. This is not surprising - I suspect it might not be unrelated to her love of calculator buttons, in fact.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, the best part of last night was spent drawing up plans for a fantastic button experiment, which would determine once and for all the nature of The Ultimate Button. Of course, what with me being of a scientific mind, it couldn't just be a simple "Do you like this button? No? What about this one?" type of experiment...

We have so far determined a number of possible variables that could be important in button pressability:

Surface feel/material e.g. plastic, rubbery
Surface shape e.g. concave, flat
Force required to completely depress button
Height of button
Button-pressing noise
Button use history/current status of presser e.g. have they always used/are they currently using a keyboard with outrageously clicky buttons?

We've explored the possibilities for measuring button-pressing noise (microphone and soundwave analysis) and force required to depress button. The latter, we think, requires something resembling a school newton or force meter. These come in a rather fetching array of colours (as below), although if you wanted a really top notch piece of equipment, it's surprising how much you could pay.

@LovelyButtons was content to be the chief button presser in all of this, but, sticking to my scientific guns, I pointed out that we would need a fairly large sample size if we were going to create some half-decent graphs. The only problem being, of course, that all of these button pressers could have different button use histories - we would have to segment the population into plastic button users, rubber button users, and so on...

Finally it dawned on us that all of this button pressing experimentation was going to take years of work and at the end of it what would we have gained? Even if you were presented with a button purporting to be The Ultimate Button, I asked @LovelyButtons, how would you truly know that it was? Mmm? Wouldn't you wonder if, somewhere out there, a better button existed?

And yet again, here I am posting useless rubbish when I probably should be doing something far more important. But if anyone does happen to have any button-depressing measurement-type equipment, or the patience to carry out several years worth of scientific experiments involving keyboards, do let me know. Or maybe you'd like to post pictures of your favourite buttons below. Probably just as useful.

Torchwood co-blog: part V, in which there are no jokes or smutty remarks

2009-07-10T22:06:00.011+01:00

FYI, this has been a collaborative blogging effort bought to you by @Captain_Doug and @gingerbreadlady (me).

Catch-up:
Part I (by me)
Part II (by Doug)
Part III (by me)
Part IV (by Doug)

Wow.

If there are witty remarks to be made about this episode, I'm sure I don't know what they are. Words that spring immediately to mind are: dark, harrowing, bleak, depressing...

To recap, at the end of Episode III, planet Earth was ordered to surrender 10% of its children to an alien race. (Or all would perish.) We didn't know what, exactly, they were intending to do to them, but we knew it wasn't going to be all candy bars and dominoes. Today, we learn that the kids are to be kept alive to produce chemicals that make the aliens "feel good" - drugs.

So, to cut a long story short, the Government caves in and agrees to do the aliens' bidding, covering up the whole miserable affair with a rubbish and unforgivable lie about the kids being taken to have inoculations that will stop them doing the evil, scary chanting thing.

There's about three seconds when we think (hope) everything's going to fine and dandy - ten minutes from the end, when Captain Jack rips off his coat and proclaims, "Let's get to work." Then everything gets much, much darker.

Whether Jack's twisted plan makes any scientific sense, I've no idea, but I've stopped paying any attention to the physics by this point. The Captain channels a "constructive wave" (a genuine scientific term, by the seem of it, but who cares?) through his grandson, cycling the aliens' death wavelength back at them and killing his own flesh and blood in the process.

It's an extremely hard-to-watch finale, particularly as we know Jack is fully aware of what will happen. Even Mr Hayley, who never flinches at this sort of thing, is fidgety throughout.

Well, it does the trick alright - the aliens beat a hasty retreat - but we're left with a bitter taste in our mouths. And worst of all, the hateful Prime Minister seems to think it's all been a bit of a lark. He feels "lucky", apparently.

I have to say, it did make me wonder (seriously) what the Government would actually do if we were invaded by child-chemical dependent aliens... blimey, must be good storytelling.

I suppose I should take back everything I said before about predictable endings, particularly with regard to Jack's redemption. In the final scene, with only one member of the Torchwood team left alive to see him on his way, he exits Earth for a "cold fusion carrier" somewhere out in space and we're left wondering: is this the end for Torchwood? Surely not...

Torchwood co-blog: part III, in which it all kicks off... a bit more

2009-07-08T10:08:00.023+01:00

FYI, this is a collaborative blogging effort bought to you by @Captain_Doug and @gingerbreadlady (me). Check out Doug's blog tomorrow for the penultimate installment...

Catch-up:
Part I (by me)
Part II (by Doug)

Well, there's one thing to be glad about after Episode III - no more scary chanting children. The aliens (the "456") have finally arrived and agreed to stop using them as communication tools. Goody.

Oh, but they want some kids giftwrapped to take home with them - 10%, in fact. How rude. We build them a nice, comfy little glass box full of poisonous gases to land in and how do they repay us? Make off with our children. Tuh.

Actually, this leads quite well into a discussion of overpopulation issues, which I won't go into in detail here, but as population control measures go, mass alien abduction ain't a bad solution. Depending on the motives of the particular aliens in question, it could be preferable to, say, a horrible flesh-eating infectious disease or some sort of Logan's Run type scenario. At least you get to see space before you die.

But forget the serious issues for a minute... GADGETS! Yay! The BBC, which has obviously spared no expense in creating its aliens (glass box full of smoke and the occasional squelchy sound/Jurassic Park-style screech or splatter of vomit-like liquid), is really spoiling us with its lip-reading software and high-tech contact lenses. Weeeeell, the lenses are kind of cool, I suppose - basically, they give the wearer cameras for eyes, allowing them to transmit pictures of aliens back to Torchwood HQ. Although they come in fairly disappointing white plastic cases, like normal contact lenses.

Where was I? Ah, yes. 10% of the children. Now, as we've known since Episode I, these aliens have a taste for kids. (Just a thought, but perhaps they're actually eating them? Or do we need a more sophisticated reason for monsters stealing children these days?) A few were harvested when the 456 showed up back in the sixties.

But. Shock! Horror! Guess who handed them over before? Why, none other than our hero Captain Jack Harkness! My, what a lot of gasping this caused on Twitter. Come on guys, he only gave them 12 - not so much of a sacrifice really. Especially compared to 10% of all the kids. Luckily, @Blue_Chameleon has a solution: "Easy. Send the dumbest, chavviest 10%." (And, adds @duckorange, "They can have my two if it helps.")

So, what next? Round up all the poor numpties no one wants and wave them off... or... two days of alien ass-kicking punctuated by smutty references to what Captain Jack and Ianto get up to in their tea breaks, a "surprise" late arrival by UNIT's Dr Martha Jones, some tears over Gwen's (probably alien) baby, Jack's absolution for his prior sins and the safe return of all the children to Earth. I dunno, it's a close call.

And it's back to you, Doug.

Torchwood co-blog: on the first day...

2009-07-06T22:55:00.002+01:00

FYI, this is a collaborative blogging effort bought to you by @Captain_Doug and @gingerbreadlady (me). Check out Doug's blog tomorrow for the next installment...

I'm, like, so unprepared for this.

The other day someone casually said, "Isn't Torchwood back on soon?"

As it happens it's on NOW. For five days. In a row.

How did I not know about this?

So this morning I watch the trailer (see below) and it turns out this new series is based around the one thing that freaks me out more than anything else: scary children. Honestly, I still have nightmares about Sixth Sense and, I swear, no one will ever get me to watch The Orphanage, much less The Exorcist. See - I can't even link to them.

Against my better judgement, then, I sit down to watch the first episode with pretentions of writing a science (fiction) communication blog in the same vein as past posts. In reality, it's just an excuse to hide from the scary children behind note-taking.

***SPOILER ALERT***
The premise is this: back in the sixties, a load of kids disappeared. Nobody noticed except for one guy - now a gibbering wreck with an uncanny knack for sniffing out aliens (and ex-police officer turned alien hunter Gwen's unborn child, apparently) - who got left behind. But we don't find out about him until later.

In the present day, every kid in Britain stops dead and starts chanting "We are coming" in the kind of creepy way that is going to have me sitting bolt upright in bed at 3 o'clock tomorrow morning, sweating buckets.

So what does Gwen do? Why, she goes to the amazing super-duper Torchwood computer and types in "children", of course. Thankfully, Torchwood's super-duper computer interprets her request correctly and churns out creepy-children stats for every country in the world. And whadd'ya know? They're all doing it. Dang.

Anyway, cut to the chase. It's aliens. Of course it is. The Government turns a blind eye and issues an (emailed) death warrant for Torchwood-boss Captain Jack, presumably to stop him meddling. (But as @JonathanEx points out: "Who sends death warrants by email? Nowadays I would have thought it'd be a DM [direct message] on Twitter.")

Gwen finds the Guy Who Got Left Behind and spends what seems like half an hour impressing him with flashy gizmos and getting him to tell her his real name. All very well and good, Gwen, but meanwhile Jack is getting killed. Twice. (Yes, we all know he can't die but more to the point, notes @MarkSTaylor, he "must have a hard time sourcing a new coat for every time he gets shot.").

It turns out they put a bomb in Captain Jack's stomach while he was sleeping/dead. KABOOM! Torchwood blows to smithereens whilst tea boy Ianto escapes dramatically but painfully slowly via the lift. Predictably cliffhanger-ish.

What have we learnt from all of this then? You can't trust the Government. Adult hormones interfere with alien transmission signals. So they can't get us - phew. And very little about science. More for us to tear apart tomorrow? Or should I have laid into the alien/pregancy sniffing storyline a bit more? Ah HA-AAA! Gwen's baby IS an alien, perhaps?

And what of the scary children? Well, that was just about as much as I can take. If it gets any worse, I'm going to have to refer to Twitter/Doug's blog posts instead of actually watching it. What is it that makes kids so damn scary?

Death, Death, Elitism & Death

2009-07-03T14:44:00.019+01:00

I've spent the last three days at the World Conference of Science Journalists (WCSJ), where much of the debate focused on Death - mostly of traditional media/science journalism, but also as a result of climate change. I'll be addressing some of this Death in the following post, as well as giving some thought to elitism and, maybe, how it relates to Death (not quite sure how that will go yet).

Perhaps, to avoid instigating a suicide pact among science journalists, I'll preface the Death stuff with science blogger @EdYong's opinion on yesterday's "Future of Science Journalism" talk. He said to me, and I hope he won't mind me quoting him, "It was good to hear that it was all quite optimistic." Maybe though, this optimism was just a thinly veiled attempt to conceal our impending fate at the hands of bloggers and the Metro, as outlined in a few of the earlier sessions...

To elaborate, at least of couple of talks featured speeches by editors - notably John Rennie, formerly of Scientific American, and Wired UK's Ben Hammersley - arguing that science journalists are soon to be subjected to some sort of mass extinction. In the coming media apocalypse, it seems, only the journalists with the biggest pencils and flippiest notepads will survive.

Mediocre science coverage on blogs and in non-specialist publications, it is predicted, will cause this future extinction event. In light of this, bloggers got the sharp end of a few tongues, but some, including Yong, argued convincingly that good bloggers often do a better job than "proper" science reporters.

Meanwhile, we were warned, climate change will be wreaking global havoc e.g. intensifying heat waves similar to the one we're currently experiencing and adding substantially to the global Death toll. One delegate pointed out that we should be highlighting these sorts of climate-related catastrophes in our articles to try to drum up interest in renewable energies. I'm not so sure... I agree with the guy who said we should be highlighting all the good stuff instead - increased energy and food security, improved air quality and so on.

Possibly just as unnerving as the stench of Death was the faint whiff of elitism lingering around a couple of talks. On one occasion, Hammersley expressed a surprising degree of disgust for readers of the Metro free newspaper, available, as most of my readers will know, on any London tube train. I can't recall the exact phrase but it was tantamount to saying that anyone who reads that particular publication was a lost cause and would probably be incapable of understanding a decent science article. Yet several distinguished science journalists I spoke to later admitted to some regular underground-related Metro action. Anyone else dare to confess? I'm not sticking up for the Metro exactly, but the people who read it are not a bunch of idiots. And even if they were, why should we stop trying to engage with them?

The following day, whilst outlining the failings of the British press, Professor John Martin insinuated something along the same lines. Having described how he likes to spend his mornings breakfasting over high brow German newspapers, he went on to suggest that all science coverage should fit into the same mould. I winced as he invoked something vaguely reminiscent of science communication's arch nemesis - one-way communication - in saying that the public "needed to be educated". (For anyone unfamiliar with sci comm theory, the en vogue phrase is "engagement", not "education", which, in the eyes of the sci comm community, is pretty much like saying the public is stupid). Shortly afterwards, he complained about how the high level of media attention paid to animal rights campaigners had left scientists in a bad light. He then confessed that this had, in part, been due to his own and his colleagues' refusal to talk to journalists during the debate. Sigh.

Perhaps I'm being presumptuous, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't help our case in avoiding the aforementioned journalistic cull if leading scientists and magazine editors continue to view the public as cretins. And that's, I suppose, how elitism relates to Death.

Depressing, eh? The free champagne was good though.

Cheltenham Science Festival 2009

2009-06-09T08:24:00.006+01:00

So, quickly and in no particular order - it's my birthday and I'm not really supposed to be working - some highlights from The Times Cheltenham Science Festival last week...

As editor of the festival newsletter, I was proud to sign off a stomache-achingly silly caption for a Carol Vorderman image advertising her event 'Magic Numbers'. The caption was - wait for it - 'Counting down to number fun'. We pointed it out to her but she wasn't overly impressed.

On Saturday, I interviewed a very tired and slightly grumpy Dara O'Briain. I think he may have been annoyed by the hoards of loud and excitable kids in the Discover Zone. The whole thing was completely unplanned; I wasn't too keen on doing it at all, but I'd been badgered into it by two photographers desperate to take his picture. (Their other suggestion was for me to interview Dara and Ben Goldacre both at the same time. This, I flatly refused - I would have crumbled under the weight of their collective wit.)

Anyway, I raced quickly to the end of the Dara interview, having asked the three questions I'd prepared in the 10 seconds I had to spare beforehand - who knew, by the way, that he studied for a degree in theoretical physics? - and said, "Well, I won't keep you any longer." Dara, being on the ball despite his tiredness, saw through my niceties: "You just haven't got any more questions, have you?" To which I answered, "No, I've got better things to do, to be honest." I think I won him over...

That night, still looking tired and grumpy, Dara took to the stage for 'Not Rocket Science' - a scientific panel game hosted by Timandra Harkness. I wouldn't want to say he was upstaged, but... well, he was upstaged by FameLab Coordinator Chris Dunford posing as the score-keeping nerd. It wouldn't do Chris justice to post his quips here, but the look on his face during the body part identification round, when Vivienne Parry unzipped his flies and tried to stick a label on his... well, you know, was priceless.

Chris, by the way, has already been booked for our new Comical Flask stage/tent for Geek Pop '10. And now I've published that, he's not getting out of it.

There are honestly too many great moments to recall in one blog post (e.g. the moment I spotted a mound of carrot cake in the green room on Sunday afternoon, the moment sexy scientist Alice Roberts dropped all her paintbrushes and Chris swooped in to pick them all up like a fumbling school kid) but I'll just put in a more serious mention for Fenner Curtis and the press team who did a grand job "getting the Twitter ball rolling". Having convinced them that Twitter was the new Facebook, they diligently tweeted, retweeted and hashtagged all week, stimulating a stream of Cheltenham-based sciencey goodness.

My favourite tweet from @Cheltfestivals: Cool Pfizer robot in the festival foyer: "What do you think robots eat?" Small child: "Humans!!"

May: "Do More Stuff" month

2009-05-12T12:31:00.005+01:00

I am declaring May "Do More Stuff" month. This means getting out of the office, leaving my email to overflow for days at a time and generally experiencing the wonder of The Outside World. And I shall be encouraging everyone else to follow suit - go on, unchain yourself from your desk for a couple of hours, leave your Twitter account to stagnate and make contact with reality.

This might seem a bit rich, I guess, coming from someone who barely leaves the house/office from one week to the next and, in fact, has created an entire virtual music festival in order to avoid doing so. But doesn't that make me something of an inspiration? If I can do it, so can you!

Apart from improving the circulation in our lower limbs and getting some fresh air in our lungs, who knows what may happen if we go out and Do More Stuff... The Outside World is an exciting place. We could meet people - you know, real people with noses and talky round holes (mouths, if you're not a Mighty Boosh fan). Seriously though, it could be useful - for business contacts, artistic inspiration or just relief from almighty boredom.

So, what kinds of things am I pledging to do during "Do More Stuff" month? Well, here are some ideas. Do feel free to join me.

Going to Festival of Ideas to see fellow Twitterer and maths whizz Marcus Du Sautoy talk about numbers [18th May, 18.00-19.00, Explore At-Bristol].
Talking to real life people about the environment for a new Bristol-based 'Green Cast' project.
Association of British Science Writers (ABSW) South West meet up at the Two Cultures event (another Festival of Ideas thingamy) [21st May, 18.15-20.45, Watershed Media Centre].
At last, attending Bristol Media's monthly "Media Tuesday" event - which I always miss because of work commitments [26th May, 18.15-20.00, Goldbrick House].

Well, that's enough for starters. But I will be accepting invitations... so send 'em along. Together, we can all Do More Stuff. Oh, and I've created a logo - feel free to pilfer and take part.

Black Sheep: GM scaremongering to the extreme, but quite funny

2009-04-23T17:25:00.005+01:00

If you know me at all, you'll know that a film about GM sheep that turn evil and start eating people isn't likely to go down well. I'm a scientist, and science communicator, which means I'm very wary about plots that centre around genetically modified anything. We had enough trouble in the media with GM crops; let's not even start with the GM (flesh-eating) sheep...

Funnily enough, though, I thought Black Sheep was actually quite humorous. Once you get past the ridiculous premise that scientists could ever modify sheep to be man-hunters - and the even more ridiculous premise that a bite from one of these things could turn you into a giant sheep - it all turns out to be, dare I say it, pretty hilarious.

I did cringe repeatedly at overly blatant scientific stereotypes/misdemeanours, including the female scientist (ice queen with hair in tight bun displaying complete absence of human emotion) and torture of innocent animals (sheep hanging skinned and still alive from the ceiling of a lab). But it was all so overblown as to be laughable. At least, that's what you have to hope, don't you?

Mash-up below. Watch the whole thing for full cringe worthy effect and assaults on scientific expertise.

Finding an independent expert

2009-04-23T15:09:00.007+01:00

Here's one for anybody who regularly writes about scientific research: how do you find your independent experts? And how do you persuade them to talk to you?

A recent discussion on the ABSW email forum has made me think a bit more deeply about this - the difficulties associated with finding a suitable/willing expert and the pitfalls of various approaches. There seems to be a lack of Googlable advice, so below are a few thoughts. If anyone has anything to add, this might make a useful resource for virgin writers feeling unsure as to how they should go about it. I should point out that I'm no wizened old owl, so comments from those who have been in the business for decades would be welcomed.

The first thing to say, of course, is that you're essentially asking someone to do you a favour. Getting independent comments is completely different to getting comments from the person whose research you're covering (only one author has ever refused to talk to me and it's worth pointing out that they worked for DARPA), simply because a scientist has less of an incentive to talk to you if it's not their work. For this reason, it's important to be VERY GRATEFUL in all your correspondence.

Next thing: start looking straight away and be picky. You don't want to get to the morning of the deadline - which may only be two days away - and realise you've contacted ten people and the one person who was good enough to respond, bless them, doesn't know a thing about buckyballs/microchips/Japanese herbal medicine.

I generally find suitable targets by Googling, but you've got to be thorough in your research to make sure you're choosing the right people. A good 'Bio or 'Research interests' on a university website will usually tell you what you need to know, but failing that, have a look through their list of publications. Of course, you might be looking for someone in industry, in which case, it might be easier to simply ring the company's press office to see if anyone with suitable expertise is available. Usually, I'll contact two people for every one I need to talk to. This way, I rarely get caught out and often manage to cram in the extra quotes if both get back to me.

Our discussion on the ABSW centred around the various pools or lists of scientific expertise, which were considered - and I would agree - to be fairly unhelpful unless you're looking for, say, a general "nanotechnologist" rather than an expert in some specific aspect of buckyballs. The problem with these lists is that there are simply not enough scientists signed up to them, or actively using them, and you won't be able to contact an expert directly, so the time lag is going to be greater.

Now, there are a number of issues surrounding how you should approach people. I'm sure not everyone will agree, but I find I get better results by making the initial contact via email. Scientists don't respond particularly well to being called up out of the blue. Don't forget, you're asking them to do you a favour, so journalistic cold calling probably isn't going to go down well. On the other hand, if you're in a hurry this may be the only option available to you.

I always start with a formal address i.e. "Dear Professor Whatsit" rather than "Hi Bob". Even if you're looking for independent experts all the time, making a template email isn't a good idea - you should probably include something in your message of what you intend to ask them. So you could say, "I just wanted to ask you what you think about the medicinal applications," or similar. This way, they're more likely to think, "Oh, that sounds like something I could easily and safely answer," rather than, "This hack is going to give me a good grilling and then twist everything I've said to make me sound like a moron." Which, by the way, is not - if any scientists happen to be reading - what I ever, ever intend to do.

Personally, I prefer to ask questions of an independent expert over the phone, but media-phobic scientists tend to prefer answering them by email so they can't be misquoted. Therefore, you may give yourself a better chance of getting some comments if you give them that option. Some thoughts on email vs phone comments:

Problems with email:

Loss of spontaneity - they may omit the interesting comments you would get via phone
Loss of "naturalness" in speech - your quotes may sound like they were written rather than spoken
There's no guarantee they will send them in time for your deadline (athough most will)

Problems with phone:

Scientists may ask you to send quotes back to them before publishing, significantly reducing your time and meaning they may edit out everything you stood to gain by doing the interview over the phone i.e. spontaneity and naturalness
You'll need to transcribe the interview or at least type up the relevant bits
You may end up with misleading comments/inaccuracies if the scientist is better at articulating him/herself via written word

And finally, scientists are busy people too. You can't expect them to read a paper at a moment's notice and get back to you within the hour. Which is why you should start early and give as much time as possible if asking for an interview or comments. You may be able to get on with writing up the more explanatory bits of the copy and incorporate the independent comments nearer the end. Of course, if it's an analytical piece, this may be more difficult.

One further point that has less to do with the actual process and more to do with good journalistic practice is that you probably shouldn't keep returning to old sources. If I already have a contact who I know has absolutely the right scope of expertise and I'm really pushed for time then I may ask them, but I don't like asking the same people more than a couple of times - if every time I wrote an article about nanotubes I used the same independent expert it would make for a very one-sided view of the field.

Prime numbers are probably the root of all evil

2009-04-03T08:49:00.010+01:00

Did anyone see the Horizon programme on Wednesday with Alan Davies and Marcus Du Sautoy?

Wow.

For the first five minutes I thought it was going to be one of those oooh look how exciting maths is, er, but actually it's really boring-type programmes. "I know loads of people that hate maths and think it's really boring, but I want to show Alan, show everyone in fact, that it's a wonderful, exciting subject," said Du Sautoy, about 30 seconds in. Which made me terribly suspicious.

And honestly, despite being a scientist and self-confessed geek, maths is not something that has ever pushed my buttons. (I wasn't one of those people who did maths A-Level for fun; I did it because it went with biology and chemistry quite well - and I wasn't really thinking when I handed in the form. I was 16 for Christ's sake).

Anyway, after 15 minutes, Mr Hayley and I were absolutely hooked. The pairing of cynical Davies with the bouncy, infectiously enthusiastic and ever-so-slightly camp Du Sautoy was genius. But what really sealed the deal was the prime numbers...

Oh those prime numbers. They'll be the end of us.

So this German guy called Bernhard Riemann apparently made a graph of prime numbers. It looks a bit like this:

Which makes sense (hoorah!) 'cause there are loads of small prime numbers (on the left - 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, etc etc) and they occur less often as you go higher.

BUT, the really freaky thing is this... according to Du Sautoy, the same distribution pattern has popped up all over the place, including in the distribution of electrons in uranium, in bus arrival times in a little known Mexican city and - wait for it - the distribution of parked cars in modern day London. And it was at this point that Mr Hayley and I practically jumped out of our seats. "WHAT?"

And THEN, Du Sautoy proceeded to show that if you take a quartz sphere hooked up to an oscilloscope and hit it with a ball bearing, the electrical signal you get also matches this pattern. Sorry, but. No way.

Does everyone know this? Why aren't we all running around looking for the solution? Surely this makes prime numbers the answer to life, the universe and everything? Wait, no, that's 42. >> 19 days left to watch on iPlayer - do it!

Rapidly turning into a film blog but...

2009-02-23T08:16:00.006Z

Must just congratulate James Marsh on his Oscar for Man On Wire - one of the most fantastic pieces of storytelling I've ever seen.

Well done.

And poor ol' Benjamin Button walks away with a measly 3/13, "all in the technical categories".

Curious face of Benjamin Button

2009-02-09T14:39:00.012Z

I went to see the much revered Curious Case of Benjamin Button last night.

[Plot synopsis: Brad Pitt is Benjamin, a boy born with a strange condition that makes him grow progressively younger. Cue collective sigh as Pitt recalls Detective David Mills in Se7en and J.D. in Thelma and Louise, all in one film.]

I must admit that I spent a lot of time gaping at the awesome special effects (hold on for the science bit), but in no way did this spoil my enjoyment - after Pitt put on a pair of shades and jumped on a motorbike, I barely gave the technology a second thought.

So, some rather clever sciencey types must have contributed to the camera trickery on this one. According to fx, the real life Pitt doesn’t even feature until 52 minutes in. So how did they do it? Good question.

There are some videos here that explain the whole process but essentially it involves getting your face painted green and standing under flashy lights. Well, actually it's a bit more complicated than that...

1) Cover face in make up containing phosphor.

2) Film under very fast flashing lights - on camera, the audience sees only light.

3) In the dark intervals, the camera picks up the green glow from the phosphor.

4) Use computer jiggery-pokery to capture shape of glow.

5) Use more computer jiggery-pokery to edit shape of face, making it look older/younger.

The important bit is that the powder covers the entire face. So, for comparison, to create Gollum in the Hobbit, the graphics people made a model of his head and stuck around 1,000 "control points" to it that would enable them to track its movements and recreate them on a computer. And if you think of all those "making of" programmes where people walk around in black leotards with big white bobbles stuck to them, that's the general idea. Except, using powder means you create a lot more points - 10,000 in fact - without feeling like you've just walked out of an alternative therapy procedure. So you get better resolution and, no doubt, better performances.

Obama's blog

2009-01-23T11:16:00.005Z

Obama has a blog... so if his policy on new media is anything to go by, I'm pretty hopeful. Although I'm still waiting to read his first post - it seems minions have been directed to keep the thing up-to-date for the moment. (I guess he's probably got better things to do).

Come on Mr President! Where's your top ten favourite types of biscuit? Where's the You Tube video that had you in tears of mirth over mid-morning coffee?

Also: this Studio 360 podcast features some great conversation about Obama-mania ("he's just a man!") and messages left on Obama's voicemail. I particularly liked "Well, bye then Barack! Love you!"

Geek Pop

2009-01-22T08:53:00.005Z

So I guess it's about time I blogged something about Geek Pop. Media enquiries have been flooding in and I can barely keep up, what with conference reports and articles to write in the mean time.

Well, what is there to say? It's all happening again, just bigger and better - mostly due to the fact that we got ourselves organised in September this year instead of... oooh, er... about two weeks before the festival. Which means we've had time not only to put together a fantastic line-up, but also to arrange 'green room' interviews with some of our artists and even set up a festival merchandise stall, where festival-goers can find pin badges and 'Science Rocks' mugs - I should point out that we're not doing this to make a profit (Ha! If only!), just to put some money in the kitty for Geek Pop '10. Well, and also... we wanted our own pin badges. Mine arrived yesterday and I have to say: they're pretty awesome.

Anyway, Geek Pop is taking up most of my spare time at the moment, even with a team of three of us on the case. So if anyone wants to help out, just send us an email: crew@geekpop.co.uk We're in dire need of some CSS help - if you don't know what that means, you probably can't help, I'm afraid.

And finally, some of the ways you can interact with Geek Pop...

Geek Pop on Twitter
Geek Pop on Facebook (you need to sign in first)
Blog/podcast feed
Look us up on iTunes and subscribe
Send an email to news@geekpop.co.uk to subscribe to (irregular) updates

The book what I wrote (or edited)... again

2008-12-01T17:08:00.004Z

Hurrah! Just picked up Chemistry World to find a review of Defining Moments in Science by Marcus Adams. It says, "I found myself continually dipping into the book and finding it compulsive reading..."

And more to the point: "This book would be a much appreciated gift this Christmas for anyone with an interest in modern science."

Google gets into Nature

2008-11-19T18:17:00.002Z

Following on from the launch of Google Flu Trends, reported to the tune of much oohing and aahing (and probably hmming among technophobes) last week, it appears the application has bagged Google a space in a major international science journal.

I opened my Nature press release just now to find 'Google Flu Trends' spluttered all over it. So forget beardy professors - you can email 'Jeremy G' [at] Google.com to find out more about the application. (But I think I'd rather speak to his co-author on the paper... Larry Brilliant - brilliant.)

To be fair, Jeremy's other publications do apparently include 'Anticoagulant treatment of deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolism' and 'Withdrawal, recovery, and long-term sequelae of gamma-butyrolactone dependence', so it's not as if he's just some wacky net nerd. Still, I never thought I'd see the day Google made it into Nature. Maybe there's hope for my science podcasts thesis yet...

Is a coincidence really a coincidence?

2008-11-12T19:32:00.007Z

On the weekend I got into a panic about what I was going to read after finishing the Time Traveller's Wife (again) (and crying about it - again).

Having just eaten two very tiny, very dainty cupcakes - from a shop called 'Tart', where the lady at the till was very rude to me, but I digress - I started thinking about Alice in Wonderland. You know: the part where she finds a tiny cake with EAT ME written on it and it makes her grow very tall. So then I got to thinking about Lewis Carroll and wondered whether Through the Looking Glass might still be any good at the ripe old age of 25. Irritatingly, I had left my copy of Carroll's complete works at my parents' house, but no matter, I thought, I'll pick it up on Sunday.

Are you still with me? The relevance will soon become apparent...

Right. So I'm sitting at the dinner table on Sunday, making absolutely no mention of Tart or cake or Lewis Carroll, and my mum says, 'You look like Alice in Wonderland with that hair'. Now, given that I had styled myself with some sort of wild, demi-Winehouse-esque beehive which didn't in anyway resemble Alice's neat golden locks (I should also point out that I am brunette), this was a particularly strange thing to say. And, clearly, made all the more strange by the fact that I had only the day before decided to retrieve Alice in Wonderland from my old room - where it had been standing on a bookshelf gathering dust since the day I left home.

BUT, it doesn't end there. An hour later, I open the Sunday newspaper to find this - Alice herself, the little minx, pictured in a review of a book about British writers. Something, I decided, was afoot.

Perhaps, because I had been thinking about Alice in Wonderland the day before, my subconscious brain had programmed my hands to turn my hair into something that was whispering "Alice" to my mum - however much it was shouting "mess" at me. This didn't seem very likely. But as it turns out, there's a theory that deals with this idea. It's called "coincidence theory". (Ah ha! Finally we get to the point!)

Proponents of coincidence theory believe that "anomalous phenomena", like coincidences, occur when little pieces of information submerged in the unconscious somehow bob up and float out into the physical world. But they also use the term "anomalous phenomena" to refer to clairvoyancy and prayer healing - not things I believe in or want to associate myself with...

I think there's something in coincidence theory though, albeit on a very basic level. Coincidences aren't really coincidences, surely? It's like when you meet someone called Zebediah and then suddenly everyone is called Zebediah - you notice something more when you've recently been thinking about it. So in the same way, I probably wouldn't have noticed Alice when I was leafing through that newspaper if I hadn't already been thinking about picking up my book.

I'm not done with this yet. All this requires further investigation. But for the record: I certainly wouldn't expect to be able to speak to any dead relatives because of coincidence theory. However, I'm willing to concede it might have ruined my beehive.... to be continued...

Sciencey things I haven't got time to write about

2008-11-04T20:32:00.011Z

What with article deadlines looming, top scientists to interview and a 10,000 word thesis to edit, this is really the last thing I should be doing. But hey ho.

In no particular order, sciencey things that have amused me recently:

Grandparents a safe source of childcare
Ha! Press release headlines do make me chuckle. My first thought on reading this one was "What? Why shouldn't they be?" (Followed by images of nans playing Hot Potato with babies). But some people (h'apparently) have been accusing grandparents of having some sort of cavalier attitude to babysitting. "Recent growth in the number of grandparents providing childcare has some observers concerned they don't adhere to modern safety practices," said David Bishai. Who are these "observers" exactly? Where are they? 'Cause I think my nan would be pretty offended by them. Modern safety practices indeed. I'll have you know my nan brought up seven children - eight if you count my dad's imaginary best friend, Christoper. And they all turned out alright. Except for Christopher... admittedly nan did sit on him once when she was getting into the car.

Mohinder "The Scientist/The Hulk/Spiderman/The Fly" Suresh, Heroes
For anyone who doesn't watch Heroes, Mohinder Suresh is a geneticist (although given some of his ropey explanations, I sometimes wonder what university he went to) and part-time superhero/villain of his own making. So, just to recap: at the start of Season 3, Suresh injects himself with adrenaline from the glands of Death Girl (people die when she gets upset) and hey presto, he's a hunk with a head for heights. Off comes the lab coat and suddenly he's super-strengthed up and hanging from the ceiling. All is fine and dandy for about 30 minutes before his skin starts peeling off and he's sticking people to the walls with the gunk seeping out of his fingers... Aside from that, he looks pretty. Oh, why can't we just have a fit scientist, for once?

Charlie Brooker on Brand-Ross
Ummm, not science, but very funny. Also: Media Talk podcast, beginning with anti-Brand comments to the tune of Carmina Burana - inspired. P.S. I hope Russell Brand starts his own podcast and gives the Beeb a run for its money.

Scientists film 'jogging' shrimp on a treadmill
"The experiment was filmed and later released onto the internet where it has been seen by more than a million people.

Some fans have added backing music from the film Chariots of Fire, while others have played the Benny Hill theme tune."

Just watch it. (Via Lucy at Society for General Microbiology - thanks for my mid-morning giggle).

Stanley Miller: what a legend

2008-10-16T21:38:00.003+01:00

Of all the stories I've covered in the last few months, this (excuse shameless self promotion) has got to be the most exciting. It turns out Stanley Miller, the guy who did all the prebiotic soup experiments (come on, you must remember those from biology classes... spark in a flask creating origins of life?), was a compulsive hoarder. He died last year and left a load of boxes in his lab, full of vials... Wait, it gets interesting... I spoke to the scientist who inherited all these boxes just the other day and he told me how he came across some of the original vials full of prebiotic soup - except all crusty and dried out, obviously.

Well, I was pretty thrilled... in a geeky kind of way. I mean, I read about Stanley Miller when I was at school. This man is a bit of a legend in scientific terms. It's exciting, huh?

Anyway, they did actually find some important stuff in these vials, stuff that ol' Stanley failed to notice, it seems, the upshot of it all being... oh, look just read it on Chemistry World. I'm going to get in trouble for retelling it all here... But the main point is: I spoke to the guy that Stanley Miller - the actual famous Stanley Miller from biology text books - mentored. Ha. And I love the fact that he kept all that stuff. Apparently he also kept a vial of cyanide frozen for quarter of a century. And then published a paper on it. Tut, scientists, eh?

Word doesn't do biology

2008-09-30T09:31:00.006+01:00

Ha! I just tried to enter pathogenicity (as in, the ability of one organism to infect another) into Word and it suggested "pathogen city", immediately conjuring up apocalyptic images of a filthy, diseased metropolis teeming with giant microbes.

I wonder: can you can get a "science" add-on for your spell check?

Apostrophe Catastrophe: 3

2008-09-18T11:26:00.006+01:00

They do actually punctuate their own name correctly on their website, so perhaps this is the fault of the sign maker... or the admin person who briefed the sign maker... Either way, it annoys me because I lived close to a "Michaels" supermarket for a couple of years.

The book what I wrote (or edited)

2008-09-16T19:22:00.011+01:00

I don't generally shout about my publications here, but this one holds a special place in my heart...

It is (literally in some cases) the blood, sweat and tears of 60 dedicated and extremely talented science writers. I would say it was my* pleasure to edit their scribblings, but four months of working until 10pm, and logging into my email on Boxing Day won't be easily forgotten.

Anyhoo, I present to you, dear friends, the Little Black Book of Science... er... scratch that... it appears the publishers have changed the name without telling us.... I present to you, dear friends, Defining Moments in Science. Huzzah!

In case the title doesn't say it all, it's (according to the publishers):

"Over a Century of the Greatest Scientists, Discoveries, Inventions and Events That Rocked the Scientific World"

And here it is (click through to Amazon):

I won't actually be opening it myself - just in case I spot a typo - but enjoy.

*When I say "my", I mean "our" - there were a couple of others involved. They know who they are.

Ianto Jones in the LHC

2008-09-12T12:49:00.010+01:00

Talk about hype. The BBC's take on the LHC: Torchwood get stuck in the tunnel where a portal to another dimension has opened and is letting through people-eating monsters. Gotta love it though.

A quote from my favourite member of the cast - Captain Jack's teaboy, Ianto Jones:

What's so bad about Switzerland anyway? They have great chocolate.

Very tall scientist?

2008-09-09T11:14:00.008+01:00

I forgot about this... At Cheltenham Science Festival earlier this year - interviewing for our Cheltenham podcast. Was he really tall, or am I just that short? You decide.

BBC2's Lab Rats: pish*?

2008-07-11T17:09:00.011+01:00

Continuing on the theme of science (fiction) communication, I'm going to attempt a blog on the BBC's new sitcom, Lab Rats. I say "attempt" because it's sure to get a little off track somewhere along the way, as things often do when I haven't got a deadline or a word limit. (And okay, it's not science fiction in the normal sense, but it is fiction based on science).

Now firstly (and this is where we might get a bit off track), in year one of my science communication degree, we were asked repeatedly to come up with ideas for science communication projects. As well as the many Good Ideas that made it into project plans, presentations and the like, there were inevitably a number of Bad Ideas, which were generally covered in doodles and lost under piles of lecture notes quicker than you could say 'The Man Who Discovered that Women Lay Eggs**' The idea of a science related sitcom never made it into any project plan or presentation, despite the fact that I heard it mentioned on more than one occasion.

Why?

Because it's a Bad Idea.

Think about it for a minute. If we're going to persist with this Bad Idea of making a science sitcom, we're going to have to approach it in one of two ways. The first way is to approach it from the perspective of the lay person, in which case, jokes that centre on running PCR*** gels in the wrong direction are off limits. The second way is to approach it from the perspective of the scientist, in which case, they are most definitely on limits (which, as it turns out, isn't the antonym of "off limits"). If we're all agreed that no BBC comedy programme commissioner is going to see the funny side of PCR, then we're all agreed that the first way is the way in which we should proceed. The problem then, is what is funny about doing science that we can all understand?

Clearly, coming from my background (ex-editor of the Journal of Unlikely Science), it isn't that I don't believe in funny science. You can do funny science, BUT, maybe, you just can't do it in a sitcom. If you've got good writers (and I don't know much about Chris Addison or Carl Cooper, but Lab Rats does seem lacking in that respect) you can certainly do funny jokes in a science lab. But whether you can have them be about the science is another matter.

Now, of course, I'm getting into a debate about whether situation comedy is comedy in a situation or comedy about a situation. But I digress...

You can't do jokes about science because most of your audience is simply not going to get them. So this means you're going to have do jokes about a) ordinary things, like people stealing Toblerones off each other (and evidently, those jokes, at least when written by Addison and Cooper, aren't funny) or b) things that the audience thinks are science, but actually bear no relation to it, like cloning giant snails (even less funny).

I suppose a) isn't a Bad Idea. But then if you're a TV producer, why throw in the science part at all? If I've learned anything in science communication classes, it's that the general public aren't particularly turned on by science. So if you've got good writers (I say "if") why risk your viewing figures on a dicey subject?

From a science communicator's point of view b) is a very Bad Idea. We Who Communicate Science may as well throw down our carefully crafted articles/podcasts/puppet shows and stamp on them if "funny" shows about cloning giant snails are going to take off. Hey, why not start on the Frankenstein foods and MMR-autism debate too...

If, in the spirit of a true science communicator, you're trying to portray scientists as real life people - to "humanise" them as we might say - then doing jokes about things that are completely unrelated to science is definitely your best bet. Possibly the funniest part of Lab Rats, and that's not saying much, was the annoying (and predictably incapable) girl scientist mixing up the tune of one song with the lyrics of another - ooh look, so memorable was that scene that the two songs have completely slipped my mind...

Anyway, I'm getting into ranting territory, so I'll break off in a minute. What I guess I'm saying is that it's very difficult to have a sitcom about science unless it has absolutely nothing to do with science.

And if anyone has anything (bad) to say about Lab Rats, do jump in. See that picture at the top of this blog? That's how I feel about their "science sitcom".

*Someone said pish the other day and I just had to use it as soon as possible.
**Bizarre science puppet show oft quoted in science communication circles - at least mine anyway...
***An intensely boring experimental procedure, only vaguely funny because it invariably goes wrong.

Useful words for a thesis...

2008-07-09T14:01:00.004+01:00

In order of most to least critical (and strong to weak):

Random posh getting-right-to-the-bottom-of-things words
Illuminate
Rationalise
Elucidate

Something-to-prove words
Justify
Prove
Demonstrate
Confirm
Show
Support [the notion that]
Indicate
Suggest
Claim

Digging deeper words
Analyse
Examine
Explore
Seek to understand
Probe
Question
Discuss
Assess

Describing words
Illustrate
Clarify
Define
Explain
Describe

Naff explanation of the Doctor's return from the brink of death

2008-07-07T22:51:00.009+01:00

Right. There's been a long running tradition of commentary on "the science content of science fiction" on this here blog. As there has been on Doug's blog - Doug, you might want to get in on this...

So Doctor Who. Assuming we're all comfortable with the fact that, having been obliterated by an over-sized thimble wielding a plunger, the Doctor was able to regenerate himself, let's deal with the real scientific misdemeanours of the season finale.

1) Whilst regenerating, the Doctor realises he is able to "siphon off" the excess energy from the regeneration process and channel it into his severed hand (which happens to be floating like a limp fish in a nearby glass case), thereby relieving himself of the inconvenience of changing bodies - and me of several months bemoaning the loss of David Tennant.

Wait. So is this because it's his hand? If so, why hasn't he been pulling off toenails and bits of hair and dotting them around the tardis (Tardis with a capital T?) in case of emergency? Being a timelord, you'd have thought it would have occurred to him before. And, according to Wired, he can only regenerate 12 times. Er, a) why has no one mentioned this before and b) is anyone keeping track? Oh and c) does this latest regeneration only count as half?

2) Now, I'm quite happy with the 27-planets-in-the-right-configuration-will-channel-enough-energy-to-destroy-all-matter theory. Yes, we'll let that one slip through. But did anyone understand how they towed the Earth back to the Solar System? Some sort of virtual lasso generated by a computer called "Mr Smith"... And let's not forget the dog. I'm sure he helped somehow.

3) If a human-timelord metacrisis is a problem, how long is it going to be before Billie's new beaux - Doctor Two (part Tate, part limp fishy hand) - gets into trouble? Or did it only cause a problem for Catharine Tate because her brain was too small to deal with it - yeah, probably. And do we care? Um, no. Despite certain similarities, e.g. actually being the same person, Doctor Two is nowhere near as attractive as our lord David Tennant. The Tate-isms are a real turn off.

Anyway, forget metacrises and fishy hands for a moment. Let's take a minute to remember Tate. Or not. As I've learned, the only way to enjoy her is to incorporate her into the now legendary Doctor Who drinking game*. According to The Rules, you must drink: every time there's a new monster (at least once an episode), every time the Doctor says "I am the Doctor" (at least a couple of times an episode), every time there's running (substantial proportion of most episodes) and every time Catherine Tate gets up your nose (=constant drinking). Dangerous.

*I'm not into drinking games. I'm very responsible actually. I was only enticed this once because it involved wearing silly hats.

RESEARCHER seeks science podcast enthusiasts for chats

2008-06-27T15:52:00.002+01:00

No long term commitments, not fussy about looks/gender. I just need 15 minutes of your time to talk to you about podcasts.

Must have own phone.

Please email podcasts@manyfinewords.co.uk and we'll hook up.

Overheard at Cheltenham Science Festival

2008-06-06T08:58:00.004+01:00

Apologies for sniggering at two lovely pensioners sitting next to me in a sustainability talk, but...

"I thought it was nature, nurture and something else."

"Nature, nurture and er..."

"Nature, nurture and environment, isn't it?"

"Well, no, that's nature."

This sort of thing continued for quite some time...

Sci-Pop Singles collection

2008-06-01T15:34:00.001+01:00

The Microscopic Universe - Amoeba to Zebra

Darwin Dub - The Genomic Dub Collective

Science of Why - Duncan Lockerby

Giant Squid - Tales from the Birdbath

Found whilst researching for an article on cigarette lighters

2008-05-22T12:47:00.007+01:00

Correction published by The New York Times on 21st July last year:

"An article yesterday about a decision to allow passengers to carry cigarette lighters on board airplanes misspelled the surname of the man who tried to ignite a bomb in his shoe during a flight from Paris to Miami in 2001. He is Richard C. Reid, not Reed."

- I love that they're still courteous enough to spell his name right. Maybe the lady at the Post Office (or wherever) will remember him now and send him packing.

Strawberry Flavoured Science

2008-05-08T10:44:00.005+01:00

I'm starting a new blog for Null's troop of gorgeous science buskers. It's not quite done yet, but when it is it will be deeeee-licious.

Over the summer, we'll be heading north to the Cheltenham Science Festival in June and north-east to the Secret Garden Party in July. We'll keep the blog updated with the sights and sounds of busking life.

If anyone would like a science busker, or several, to go with their event, they're welcome to ask. But somewhere along the line, we might need to start getting paid...

Chaos & Randomness

2008-05-02T00:24:00.005+01:00

Note to self: don't say stupid things when meeting important sciencey types.

Recent example: upon meeting very nice and normal professor man who had given a talk on chaos theory and the random nature of bread making (don't ask), the following fell out of my mouth... "Since you're kind of a Professor of Randomness, and I'm the editor of the Journal of Unlikely Science, I wondered if you fancied doing an interview?"

Learn from this. You could have said: "Hello Professor. I really enjoyed your talk. Could we do an interview. Would you? Oh, that would be lovely."

Book Meme

2008-04-16T21:34:00.005+01:00

So there's this thing called a book meme...

I obviously wasn't paying attention in blog class, but apparently these memes are all over the net. As far as I was concerned, a meme was something Dawkins came up with to explain cultural evolution - and, oh dear, that sounded so pretentious. Very bad science communication.

I won't try to fashion a better explanation of meme than Dawkins himself. So here he is: "Examples of memes are tunes, ideas, catch-phrases, clothes, fashions, ways of making pots or building arches. Just as genes propagate themselves in the gene pool by leaping from body to body via sperms or eggs, so memes propagate themselves in the meme pool by leaping from brain to brain via a process which, in the broad sense, can be called imitation."

Book memes then. From what I gather, it's a kind of game/way of showing off your literary prowess to the blogosphere. The idea behind most of them seems to be that you take a random section of a book that "just happens" to be sitting on your shelf and post it on your blog. My Dawkins excerpt, for example, wouldn't count because I selected it for a specific reason. (Although it did serve the purpose of showing off my literary prowess - if you rate Dawkins, that is).

Probably the best way to explain this is just to do it. So... I stole this book meme from Niobe at Dead Baby Jokes, and it goes like this: Pick up the nearest book (although in my case The Selfish Gene is actually right next to my keyboard, so I'm going to cheat and pick something else), turn to page 123, count down to the fifth sentence on that page and post the next three sentences. Simple. Here goes then.

"It is still too early to say whether or not a malaria vaccine is a real possibility. Malaria research is not, however, just about drugs, vaccines and bed nets. One successful programme in Kenya is examining how local shopkeepers dispense anti-malaria tablets and whether their effectiveness in the web of malaria control can be enhanced through education."

Hmm. Not as successful as I'd hoped. For a start, page 123 had a picture on it, so I had to go to 124. And despite having picked up a sci-art book, I seem to have landed us with some pretty heavy issues. Never mind. Perhaps we've all learned something.

Oh, and to "transmit" the meme, you have to tag someone in your blog post. Captain Doug, my fellow blogger... you're It.

Small People and Survival

2008-04-12T10:52:00.013+01:00

I visited the Science of Survival exhibition at the Science Museum in London a couple of days ago. Primarily for academic reasons, but also because I was hoping to extract myself from the swarms of small people on the main museum floor. Unfortunately, nobody explained to me that the exhibition room itself was mostly inhabited by a particular type of person - namely, small persons.

It was probably my own fault. I purchased my ticket before the giant cartoon characters guiding the way to the entrance loomed into view. Still, £6 is £6, and I was determined to undertake some serious critical evaluation. My apologies to one member of museum staff who got an impromptu grilling.

Now, I should stress that in general I'm a fan of innovative communication methods. But when innovative equals touch screens and flashy lights I get a bit twitchy. All very entertaining, for the small ones, but as Mr. Impromptu Grilling himself said, "Oh, it's engaging, but whether they learn anything is another matter."

Science of Survival has big ambitions. Once you get past the (actually quite misleading) title and the cartoon characters, you realise that what it's really trying to do is tackle the rather complicated issue of the future of our planet. But I'm not convinced many of the small people realised this. They were far too engaged in catching virtual pizza slices (jabbing buttons) to understand how this related to the population crisis and global poverty.

On paper, it must have looked like a great idea. Four characters, cleverly designed so that each kid would identify with one of them - Eco is the outdoorsy sort, Tek is the geek - and their virtual city, for which visitors are asked to design eco-cars and houses, and choose energy and water sources. Everything you do is stored on your visitor card and at the end, you plug it in to see how your ideas fit into the 'future city'.

Yes, on paper, it must have looked like the last word in public engagement - and a lovely example of two-way dialogue. And even in practice, if you take this thing seriously, you'll learn a lot. My problem is that nobody is taking it seriously. It's just somewhere you can take your kids to entertain them for an hour. According to Mr. Grilling, most parents were doing a pretty bad job of explaining the underlying issues. "It's really left up to us to do that." That's all very well Mr. Grilling, but there are only two of you and you've been standing staring at the wall for the past 15 minutes...

In any case, it's likely that any kid with an up-to-date games console is going to be distinctly underwhelmed by the quality of games on offer at Science of Survival. I noted that most small people were making their way through the different sections - relating to water, food, energy, transport etc - at quite a pace. Perhaps this was partly due to the lure of the 'future city' - and the fact that Eco, Tek and co. kept spoiling all the fun by jumping in to tell the kids why none of their answers were right.

I'm in total agreement with the virtual ones. There are no right answers when it comes to the saving the planet. But try telling that to a seven-year-old who has just built a snazzy-looking, virtual electric car and painted it orange. "Nice idea, kiddo - no petrol fumes, but you're going to have to build a nasty big power station to make your electricity. Tut tut. You can't win where the environment is concerned." Stuff that, thinks kiddo, computer games are about winning.

Maybe all this touch screen malarky is just no substitute for real hands-on and having someone explain it to you. A friend who works as an explainer recently vowed to wage war on touch screens. His words: "Why not just stick it all on the internet and make room for something more interactive?" I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree.

I should probably mention that there were also several sparkly glass cases housing eco things such as toilet-top sinks. They were labelled in very small print at above head height - if you're a small person, that is. But nobody, not even the tall people, was really bothered about those.

This one has been bugging me for ages...

2008-04-10T22:00:00.000+01:00

What's even more annoying than the Apostrophe Catastrophe itself is the fact that they actually punctuate it correctly on their website!

I'll never eat there, I swear.

Time to buy stuff

2008-04-04T08:39:00.006+01:00

So it's the end of the tax year tomorrow. And being a freelancer, this means, as far as I understand it, that I should spend whatever money I have earned this year on things "for business purposes" so that I have less tax to pay.

My accountant informs me that large pieces of equipment, such as computers, and cars (and houses - darn it) are out. New computers are apparently permissible, but I could only claim on 40% in the first year, which is, quite frankly, rubbish. So I'm left in a bit of a quandary. When does something become sufficiently large/important/expensive so as to be conspicuous in the eyes of the Inland Revenue?

What if, for instance, I decide to go out and buy enough printer cartridges to keep my printer happy for a decade? Actually, scratch that - what fun are printer cartridges? It's always much more exciting to wait until the poor thing is squeezing out the last drops of ink and I'm up against a deadline so tight I can barely breathe before shelling out for a new one.

I already bought a new microphone and a stack of paper. What else does a writer need? Think, Hayley, think.

What about investing in some fancy equipment that transcribes interviews automatically? No, I'm never going to find that down Maplins on a Friday afternoon. Or how about some folders and a few of those scented, sparkly pens... Wait, what is this, year nine?

Okay, maybe I need to think a bit more creatively. I could sign up to every science communication/journalism/new media conference going and charge the travel expenses to my business account...

Bingo! Google informs me that the University of Texas is hosting a whole summer of science communication events. Brilliant. And of course, to save money on flights, I'll have to stay out there until September.

Golgi lyrics

2008-02-29T09:09:00.004Z

I just want to congratulate Professor Science on some of the best sci-pop lyrics I've ever heard.

"Where I like to go when things get awfully chaotic
And I want to feel a little more eukaryotic.
On the endomembrane system inside of a cell,
There's a groovy little organelle.
It isn't a place you can find in an atlas,
That's right, you guessed it: the golgi apparatus."

Nuff said.

Traffic cones have feelings too you know

2008-02-14T09:16:00.004Z

I like this photo.

I don't know why, but I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and my brain said, "Those traffic cones are alive! Look at them - they're trying to hold up that huge pile of rubble. It's nearly breaking their poor plastic backs, but they're standing firm. They're holding their ground. Without those traffic cones, a whole street might have been swamped in smashed up bits of tarmac. Well done those traffic cones, well done."

Thanks to a man who calls himself Fishmonk for my morning's entertainment.

Science Blogging Conference

2008-01-19T10:12:00.000Z

It would have been nice if I could have jetted off to North Carolina for the 2008 Science Blogging Conference. Unfortunately, I'm confined to a dingy study, staring out at a drizzly Saturday in Bristol, UK. I shall, however, be keeping a close watch on proceedings. And they've got a rather nice wiki to help matters along.

Cell Kiss

2008-01-14T21:07:00.000Z

Does anyone remember - boys, I defy you to forget it - the scene in Cruel Intentions where Sarah Michelle Gellar gives Selma Blair a few pointers on the subject of French kissing? The audience sees a visible string of saliva connecting their lips after the kiss. (You can just about see it starting to form here - lovely).

The reason I ask is because I just read something that reminded me very much of this scene. It turns out there are cells in our bodies - come on, bear with me - that, when they bump into each other, become connected by a line of cell spittle. Just like a cell kiss.

Except of course, it's not spit at all, it's made from a sort of membrane called a nanotube. I prefer spittle. And if you're losing interest at this point, perhaps start thinking about these cells as Sarah and Selma.

What's quite interesting though, is that this "spittle", which the cells use to communicate between themselves, might allow the HIV virus to move more quickly between T cells. These are the immune cells under attack from the virus in HIV patients - the ones doctors keep tabs on to see how far the disease has progressed. In the lab, HIV sends its proteins sliding along the interconnecting strings between infected and healthy cells.

So you see, you can't spread HIV by kissing, and neither can Sarah and Selma, but your T cells might be able to. Huh.

(I've probably lost most of you to You Tube at this point, where you're all hastily searching out snippets of the legendary lesbian spit fest. But still.)

More importantly, however, if this turns out to be the case in the body as well as in the dish, it could mean a new focus for researchers trying to develop treatments. Stop spitting, stop AIDS. Kind of.

Image: I may or may not have stolen it from World of Pop. But I'm pretty sure they didn't pay for it either.

"Mystery" of traffic jams solved - really?

2007-12-21T08:33:00.000Z

I couldn't give a monkey's how traffic jams happen, just so long as they don't happen to me. But it's a subject that's obviously been playing on the minds of mathematicians from the universities of Bristol, Exeter and Budapest, because they've seen fit to develop a model of it.

Is it just me or does this strike you as the kind of thing mathematicians do for a laugh in their lunch hour? And, having seen Leila Sattary's report on the pseudoscience spouted about wrapping Christmas presents, I'd like to contest the fact that mathematicians do any real work at all.

If you're interested in the traffic jam study, the upshot of it is that an overreaction by an individual driver, i.e. braking too sharply, can cause 'backwards travelling waves' in the traffic. Gosh, that one must have taken them all lunch hour. Where are all the quadratic equations and common denominators in this, eh?

Image: Emin Ozkan

6 free range eggs

2007-11-23T12:38:00.000Z

Quoting Waitrose, "Columbian Blacktail Hens - these British-reared laying hens thrive on the freedom of their outdoor life and are kept in small flocks on the open pastures of family run farms."

I'm all for fair treatment of animals, but 'free range' would have been ample.

"Our hens are ethically raised by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, woken gently each morning by the sounds of pan pipes playing and provided with relaxation day tokens to spend at their nearest Hilton hotel."

Image: Michael Grunow

High speed flip flop

2007-11-21T00:35:00.000Z

So I'm browsing the latest issue of Patents and Designs Journal, just for fun, as you do. And I come across a patent application for a 'high speed flip flip'. Wow, I think, what's that? Sounds kinda spacey. Maybe it's a beach shoe with rocket blasters that makes an annoying 'thwack' noise... So I run a quick search on patent application number GB0719451.7 and discover there's no information on it. Hmm, slightly irritating, but I'll live.

Next thing is, on page 5226, someone's trying to patent a 'seagull tidy'. What? Like a desk tidy but for seagulls? Now this I have to see. Sure I won't be disappointed a second time, I feed the number into the patent finding machine. And it spits out... nothing. Again.

Okay, so last try. According to PDJ, Gavin Waxkirsh is planning to patent a bubble-blowing showerhead. Ooh, that sounds like fun. I don't know what possible use it could be - probably about as much use as a high speed flip flop or a seagull tidy - but I want to have a gander at it. So, typing the number in very slowly and carefully (perhaps this will encourage the search engine to look a bit harder) I give it one more shot. Aaaand, zip. Nowt.

On all three occasions I am told, quite abruptly "! Application details not yet published."

What do you mean, "not yet published"? You've just published them in your own sodding journal! You can't allude to a rocket powered flip flop* and then leave us all dangling for three years whilst you make your mind up about it.

So if anyone knows where I might find the details of a patent application and how soon they become available, do tell. I've got a garden full of seagulls I'd like to put in order.

*I have a suspicion this might turn out to be something rather boring to do with electronics, and not, as one would hope, some sort of futuristic sandal.

Forgotten how to laugh

2007-11-14T18:30:00.000Z

I've been watching repeats of Have I Got News for You lately, which, now I think about it, strikes me as a rather pointless exercise, being as all the news in them happened months ago... I think it's a work avoidance tactic.

Anyway.

I watched a show the other night with a fellow science communicator and an archaeologist. At one point, Paul Merton and co. were taking the mickey out of a scientist for getting over excited about spaghetti physics. A comedy photo of said scientist (honoured at last year's Ig Nobels) was shown wearing a white lab coat, eyes near popping from his head at the sight of raw spaghetti breaking.

General hilarity and derision ensued; as, we're taught, is often the case when science comes under the scrutiny of the media. Both science communicators sat silently, intestines tying themselves in knots no doubt, while the archaeologist chortled along with Merton obliviously.

This was last year's Ig Nobels. They're meant to be funny, dammit.

Really, I thought afterwards, no wonder science communication is in a state. We've had it drummed into us for so long that it's WRONG to stereotype scientists and EVIL to laugh at them, that we've not an ounce of humour left for white coat jokes, even Paul Merton's. What a shame.

Image: Charles Krupa

Chavology

2007-11-04T08:56:00.000Z

Note to self: this needs exploring.

I had a very entertaining conversation in the car on the way back from the Downend fireworks extravaganza (a.k.a. Chaville Tennessee) on Friday night. It culminated in the bold assertion by Passenger Seat that Mr. Hayley was more of a chav than me. At which point Back Seat Driver 1 countered that I drove a Peugeot and was therefore more chavvy.

What makes someone a chav and do we all have elements of chav that we're happy to embrace? Do we all, in a sense, attain different levels of chaviness? Is wearing gold hoop earrings to chavvy what bad apostrophe use is to dyslexic?

Not just an Apostrophe Catastrophe...

2007-10-19T23:00:00.004+01:00

Thanks to: Badgas

If Marc Abrahams can hand out prizes, so can I

2007-10-19T11:54:00.001+01:00

I’m awarding prizes. Categories subject to change each month. In October, the categories are:

Most Consistently Preposterous Titles for Journal Articles

The Journal of Consumer Research
-For such pearls as ‘Mood and Comparative Judgement: Does Mood Influence Everything and Finally Nothing?’, ‘Of Chameleons and Consumption: The Impact of Mimicry on Choice and Preferences’ and ‘Time Will Tell: The Distant Appeal of Promotion and Imminent Appeal of Prevention’.

Inappropriate Use of Provocative Language in Science Media

Testosterone turns male juncos into blustery hunks – and bad dads
-What this means: Male birds increase testosterone production to attract mates; sometimes it makes them a bit narky.

Most Completely Incomprehensible Utterance by a Scientist

"The mere fact that now we can have a predictable organic-nanotube hybrid composite, with enhanced properties should open the door for many new applications. The enhancement in the luminescence properties bodes well for a new generation of organic devices that could potentially reach commercially viable figures of merit for large scale production. The work conducted at the ATI will now allow us to investigate ways to modify the active material used for solar cells in order to harvest more of the solar spectrum using hybrid mixtures."
-What this means: I don't know.

Best Pun in a Press Release

No prizes this month - or possibly ever, seeing as how I might elect to change the categories next month - they're all far too lame.

Non-story of the Month

The U.S. hasn’t changed its stance on how much fish women can eat while they’re pregnant.
-Yes, that’s "hasn’t". Right.

Apostrophe Catastrophe

Charlies Angles
-Thanks to Bad Gas.

Best Things Recalled This Month

Minnie’s chocolate chunk cookies
-"Undeclared presence of nuts".

Kahlua Kahlua Brownie and Double Fudge Brownie ice cream
-You think anyone's sending those back?

Image: thanks to Fernando