“Why waste time say lot word when few word do trick?” - Kevin Malone, The Office
I studied biology in college because I did not understand it at all in high school. Yes, you read that right: I chose the path of most resistance. I could memorize dates of wars for history, vocabulary definitions for English, and equations for math, but you know what I could not memorize? An understanding of how every living thing continues to exist. I did extremely poorly on most of my biology exams in high school because it was the first time memorizing information was not the solution. Although I got frustrated with this class, it taught me how I learn best, which is something I often encourage my first-year students to explore within themselves. Everyone learns differently, and as it turns out, having someone explain confusing content at me for 90 minutes was not how I learned best. Once I got to college, I knew exactly what I needed to do in order to succeed: I would go to my dorm after lectures, rewrite my notes based on my understanding, and record videos of myself explaining the material.
Then I went to graduate school… which was a whole new ball game, where seemingly everyone knew the rules to the game except for me. People would talk about their research using acronyms and jargon I had never heard and then acted confused when I did not understand them. I constantly felt I was not smart enough and ended up developing really bad imposter syndrome, fully convincing myself there must have been another Sagan Leggett the college meant to accept. Eventually I was able to shift my line of thinking from, “I must be stupid, and that is why I don’t understand what this person is talking about” to, “This person is not doing a good job at explaining what they are talking about.” I made it my mission to make sure people understood my research no matter their scientific background. From this experience, I decided to design an undergraduate class solely concentrated on the art of science communication.
“Before this course, I viewed science communication as a final step in the scientific process. Research came first, and communication was simply the act of explaining the results afterward. By the end of the semester, I realized that communication is woven into every stage of scientific work. The way ideas are framed, organized, and presented shapes how they are understood and remembered.
…
The goal is not to communicate everything you know, but to communicate what helps an audience build understanding.”
This is an excerpt from a quote by one of the students who took my Science Communication course this past spring. Not only did this quote warm my heart as an educator, knowing this particular student learned something from my class, but it also demonstrated their proficiency in the very skill I set out for them to learn: to communicate in a concise, efficient manner.
The best part of science communication though is that there is no right or wrong way to convey a message as long as the intended audience understands it!
Other quotes from my students include:
“This was easily one of my favorite classes I have taken this year.”
“I will miss your fun outfits<3” (one of my favorites)
“Professor Leggett deserves a raise.”
OK, I made that last one up, but it leads me to the second reason why being an effective science communicator is so important: people will believe anything.
An unnamed acquaintance of mine once confidently told me there were three types of sperm: runner, defender, and attacker sperm. This is not only one of the most absurd things I have ever heard, but it is also INCORRECT! I am always interested in how this misinformation starts, and it often begins with misinterpreted research. It is easy to blame the people who are spreading these idiotic theories, but I like to assume responsibility as a scientist and say this may not have been taken out of context if we explained it more simply. If two people explain the same thing—one correctly with technical jargon and the other incorrectly with simple words and analogies—people will tend to believe the one they understand, even if it’s wrong!
I tell my students whenever they are writing or presenting any scientific topic, they should stop to consider how this could be misinterpreted or -understood. According to a study conducted in 2024, 52% of Americans do not consider scientists as good communicators. This same study revealed a dramatic increase in mistrust of scientists: the percentage of Americans who have little to no trust in scientists shifted from 13% in 2019 to 23% in late 2024. With this fall of trust comes great responsibility as a science communicator.
“The more you find out about the world, the more opportunities there are to laugh at it.” - Bill Nye
Fun fact: science CAN be funny. People often have the misconception that science is serious and therefore should only be presented as such. I could not disagree with this more. I love sprinkling in humor throughout my presentations because it helps keep the audience engaged (and it also is a great opportunity for me to show everyone an important part of me: my sense of humor).
I encourage my students to throw a joke into their presentations not only to appeal to the crowd but also to ease their own nerves. I had a colleague in the theater and dance department at Union talk to my students about public speaking, and she taught them about ethos (a speaker’s trustworthiness), pathos (a speaker’s ability to appeal to an audience’s emotions), and logos (appeals to logic and reason), but one thing I find missing from this trifecta is humor.
Not convinced that humor belongs in science? Let’s look at one of the most famous science communicators of our generation: William Nye, also known as Bill Nye the Science Guy. Nye quit his job as a mechanical engineer at Boeing to pursue a comedy career, and not just any comedy career, but a science-focused comedy career! His show Bill Nye the Science Guy became one of the most watched educational TV shows in the U.S. (Boss, Kit (December 18, 1994) “The Bill Nye Effect”. The Seattle Times.). So the next time you want to explain a scientific phenomenon or theory to someone, try to think of a concise, easily understood, and if possible, funny metaphor to explain it.
I wish you were my professor
Thanks for this. I can totally imagine presenting my work next time consisting Ethos, Pathos, Logos sprinkled with humor.