This entire intro section for April’s newsletter was meant to address the flood of “science is dead in America” flavor of online discourse that I’ve been privy to. I had a whole plan to acknowledge that social media pushes extreme rhetoric, to discuss how upsetting it still was to see some of my PhD mentors pushing that rhetoric, and to debunk that rhetoric.

Imagine my surprise when science communicator Hank Green (of the Vlog Brothers on YouTube) made a recent video about that very topic.

I highly recommend you watch it here: the video is short is short, but it does a lot of heavy lifting. And the title/main quote from the 5 minute video sums up my opinion on the “science is over” rhetoric:

“Despair is not wisdom.”

I absolutely agree with this, though not exactly for the same reasons that Hank provides in the video. He provides empirical evidence (through a striking graph showing infant mortality rate) that shows that when you zoom back and look at everything on a grander scale, it’s near impossible for us to truly “go back to the dark ages” because of how drastically we have improved the quality of life.

I, on the other hand, look at humans throughout history. I think we scientists in America have forgotten that knowledge and progress have been set back time and time again throughout history. Oppressed cultures have had their knowledge—be it language, cultural practices, etc— politicized, threatened, and criminalized. That knowledge hasn’t flourished, but has found ways to survive thanks to human ingenuity. And honestly, if we look at this pattern in human history, what we’re experiencing in the US is tame. At least we’re not currently being openly slaughtered for practicing science at the bench. If Irish communities held secret schools to keep Gaelic alive while they were under British occupation, we scientists can figure out how to salvage science in America. Yes, we scientists are severely unequipped to take on the current administration. Yes, we are losing what will amount to decades of progress. Yes, we will lose (or have already lost) our global lead in STEM.

But we’re not “cooked.” We’re not “headed back to [insert your favorite ancient date].”

We’re severely set back, but we can rebuild. And I say “rebuild,” not “remake,” because the system that got us to this point clearly didn’t work. If history repeats itself, then we still have hope that research in the US will come out the other side (albiet battered and bruised).

To the scientists reading this newsletter: your despair is valid. Have that crash-out. Mourn for the scientists who have lost their jobs, their research, and their careers.

But, if you can’t recover after that emotional crash-out, if you don’t want to craft anything beyond the comments of despair, if you cannot add anything more to the conversation beyond “woe is us”, especially at this point in the game…

Remember that history repeats itself. People persevere. It’s going to be uncomfortable, but it will happen.

(To the rest of my readers reading this newsletter: Know that the scientific community is going through it right now, myself included. It’s rough out there friends.)

I went all out for this one, as I’ve wanted to make this post for a good two years!

DRAGON FIRE

Heads up! There were some glitches with the website, and there’re some strange cutoff sentences (more than usual) that have yet to be fixed due to the glitch. It is being taken care of, and the blog is still very readable! I do apologize though for the errors!

Update on book editing: we’re still in what I would consider the early stages of developmental editing this story. I got some good feedback from two readers and am working to incorporate the critiques into my story. Hopefully I can send the manuscript off to a developmental editor at the end of May.

I’m also in talks right now with the International Society of Hyaluronan Sciences (ISHAS) to edit videos and create summaries of hyaluronan research. All volunteer work, but at least I’m working in my PhD field!

To my wonderful Patreons and donors, thank you so much for your monetary support! You have helped pay for both a table and a few simple microscopes for my science communication outreach! I have used the setup once at Greenlake to let folks look at leaves and flowers under the microscopes. I’m currently in the process of getting sample slides from real UW labs that folks can look at.

I’m also still working on the next Journal Club paper. The process is taking such a long time because 1) tutoring + traveling, and 2) I’m learning a new video editing program because Adobe Premier crashed out so many times on my last paper video.

I’m also applying to two grants for some of my scicomm work. One (due on the 15th) will be for science writing+ YouTube videos, and the other will be for some of my science artwork. Speaking of which…

I’m super proud of this one! I present to you… Giant Octopus Watercolor!

This was so much fun to try. My mom (hi mom!) and I went to the Seattle Aquarium the other day and I took a bunch of reference photos for my scicomm art projects. I managed to snag this one amazing photo of the octopus they had on display:

I’m currently working on another art piece with this very octopus picture, using digital paint (specifically gauche) to try and get as much of the details as I can.

No matter what form of scicomm you choose— podcasting, blogging, vlogging, the works— you will have to develop a distinct voice. The voice can have authorial intent, rage, wonder, you name it. For those who can hear internal thoughts, the voice of content can sometimes take on its own timbre; a squeaky young scientist reading through data as fast as they can, or an elderly mage with a rattly voice that bestows wisdom upon those who listen. Voice is determined by what words you choose. Some words sound more antagonistic, some sound softer. And then there’s the unique combination of those words that can produce a kind of musicality (try reading out loud from a nearby book, and you can feel and hear the rhythm in many of the sentences) that also alters how the voice is interpreted. And then there’s tone, which does rely on the aforementioned words and rhythm while also relying on other rhetorical devices.

You must find your own unique voice in your given medium.

Let’s chat about mine as an example (the voice I use in my blog):

I would describe my voice as “chaotic, nerdy gremlin.” I inject a lot of enthusiasm into my tone via word choice and syntax. At times, you may wonder if I’ve drank a bit too much coffee. I also break the 4th wall quite often, directly addressing the audience. There’s a lot of history around 4th wall breaking in theater; it destroys the barrier between the audience and the actors, causing a disruption in the accepted reality or the “status quo” the theater audience knows and understands. A lot of comedy relies on upending the status quo, so usually this technique is done to make the audience laugh. In my blog, I’m deliberately using 4th wall breaking for the same effects.

Directly addressing the audience could be used to replicate a lecture one would experience back in high school or college… Except my blog doesn’t feel like that (or hopefully it doesn’t). That’s because I use a very conversational tone (see below in the example). If anything, I hope it comes across as more of an enthusiastic chat at a cafe.

My blog voice is meant to come across as casual and approachable (because who doesn’t appreciate a nerdy gremlin), but it is deliberately crafted. The voice allows me to sneak in science vocabulary without coming across as unnatural and without overwhelming the reader, while simultaneously being entertaining (or trying to be). I’m relying on the “adorkable nerd” trope that my audience is already familiar with, though I’ve added a bit of snark into my tone to keep my audience on their toes.

Let’s look at a quick example. Here’s a section from my latest blog post written as if I were writing for my old PhD lab:

“Alkali metals have one electron in their outermost shell. This section of the periodic table also has reduced electronegativity, resulting in less energy required to remove that electron. However, the removal of an electron inherently results in a exothermic reaction that results in hydrolysis of water and combustion of the resulting hydrogen and oxygen gases…”

Straight forward, no nonsense tone and rhythm. Very “academic” of me. Throw in a few chemistry vocab words, and you have yourself a classic science talk. To most folks outside of STEM, this comes across as the narrator “talking at” the audience. Academic voices also tend to be “long winded”; we put as many concepts in a sentence as we can, which results in longer sentences that sound like a deluge of words.

Now let’s look at how I actually wrote it:

“Why are these metals so reactive? Well…Alaki metals only have to lose 1 electron [to gain 8 electrons in their outer shell].

One. Tiny. Electron.

That means it’s very, very easy to remove that single electron. This equals “high reactivity,” which equals “more explosive in water.” This high reactivity increases even more as we move down on the column (this has to do with the atomic radius, but that’s getting too deep into the chemistry weeds).”

Firstly, I use questions to start the conversation. This is a common rhetoric technique and is one of the ways I like to occasionally break the 4th wall. It’s inviting the reader into the conversation even if I can’t hear them. Then we get to “one. Tiny. Electron.” I’m using the abnormally short sentences to build up unnecessary tension/enthusiasm. This is where the “nerdy gremlin” energy is crafted; there’s a ton of enthusiasm for a seemingly tiny bit of information.

Then we come to my choice to use “very, very” in the following sentence. You’re not allowed to use “very” in academic settings*, let alone have that kind of repeat. Here, I’m breaking academic grammar rules because I want this part to sound like I’m chatting with you face-to-face. This isn’t how one would write, but it is how one would talk. My choice of using “more explosive in water” as a way to measure chemical reactivity is also incredibly chat-coded.

And then we have a direct “nod and wink” to the audience with the parentheses. I love using parentheses as asides to the audience, like I’m letting them in on an inside joke. This is also frowned upon in academic writing.

However, if you know me… You’ll know that this voice is not too far off from my own (the one I’d use if we were chatting in person). I’d say it’s my usual voice with the “chaos” amount doubled and the authoritative tone cranked down. That’s another key aspect of voice; it needs to be (or sound) authentic to you.

So, here’s what you need to know about voice in your scicomm content:

1) It needs to be deliberate. You need to put thought into your presented voice. How do you want people to interpret you through your content?

2) It needs to still be authentic. This will take trial and error. I recommend writing as close as you can to how you sound if chatting at a coffee shop, and then changing word choice, tone, rhythm, etc. from there.

3) Generally try to avoid sounding like an academic. There will be exceptions depending on the topic, but I’m struggling to think of a good example at the moment.

4) Voice is a combination of word choice, rhythm, and tone. Word choice and rhythm are relatively simple to note on the writer’s side, but you may have to hand your writing to a friend and ask them if they can sense your intended tone if you don’t have much practice. Read your favorite author and note what words they use, how long their sentences are, and then try to replicate that.

5) Be willing to try out various voices and see what sticks. I would care less about the audience reaction here and more how to you feel as the creator. Do you enjoy creating in this voice? Is it annoying?

*Fun fact: I break a lot of the academic tonal and grammar rule when I give academic talks, which 90% of the time is enjoyed by the audience. However, I got quite a few heated critiques from my “Research in Progress talks” that kept telling me to “stop talking like a high school teacher.” Thankfully, I’m far to stubborn and ignored every critique.

Goodness, the Scicomm section this time around blossomed into a full-blown AP language arts essay! I hope it’s helpful (because it was fun to write! I always love analyzing writing).

Again, if you like what I do and want to support me while keeping my material free to access, you can join my Patreon or make a one-time tip on KoFi!