You know, I think communicating science is an extremely important enterprise, one that I think scientists need to work at more. That interface with the general public is poorly cobbled together and we often seem to be working in completely different directions, producing a lot of, well, chafing, where the citizenry is off supporting some lunacy like creationism or homeopathy and pissing us off, and we’re grumpily tossing off thunderbolts of scorn and pissing them off…and unfortunately, we do not have the benefit of the automatic deference given to such scoundrels as the clergy. I suppose we could aspire to indoctrinate the public into believing in our infallibility and saintliness, but it seems to me that learning how to communicate better would be easier. Not easy, of course, but at least achievable.

While I admit that scientists need to improve their communication skills, you may have noticed that I tend to be scathing in my reviews of pundits who try to tell us how to be better communicators. Too often they seem to have no understanding of how scientists actually think; they’re outsiders who don’t seem to understand our perspective while telling us to bow to the whims of non-scientists. They’re also fond of dispensing generic advice, like “get more education in communication!”, without actually telling us any specifics. It gets rather infuriating after a while.

And then there’s Randy Olson.

He can be very annoying, and even infuriating, too: his movies, Sizzle and Flock of Dodos, generate some interesting reactions from scientists, where “interesting” covers a range of emotions from bafflement to outrage. But the reasons he annoys are different from the way the communications experts and framers and media folk are exasperating: in his case, it’s because he actually is a real scientist, one who left the ivory tower to try and succeed in the fantasy land of Hollywood. He has more credibility and a more informed view of both sides of the argument, so his criticisms have a little more bite to them. He’s also a weird chimera, a kind of crocoduck of the science and media worlds, so he freaks us out a little bit.

Randy has a new book out, Don’t Be Such a Scientist: Talking Substance in an Age of Style^{(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll)}. It’s another of that genre that nags scientists to be better communicators, but it’s a productive kind of nag. He tells us exactly what the public finds annoying about us, and is specific about what we should do differently.

It’s a short book with chapters with simple commandments: don’t be so cerebral, don’t be so literal minded, don’t be such a poor storyteller, and don’t be so unlikeable, and each chapter is illustrated with stories from his experiences in the transition from science to movie making (See? He’s practicing what he preaches, by trying to be a good storyteller.) There is plenty of material here to convince any empiricist that we need to change our attitudes.

For example, he gives the case of the Pew Oceans Commission report, a major scientific policy report that should have fired people up to protect our coastal resources. Most of you probably haven’t heard about it — I hadn’t — because scientists sunk a huge amount of effort into it, and then plunked it down on desks in Washington DC…and left it to speak for itself. They invested a grand total of 3% of their budget in marketing. Randy reports that one of the staff members said, at the completion of the study, that “I’m not sure we’ve even got enough money for coffee at the press conference.” Compare that to a movie that was released at about the same time as the report, Napoleon Dynamite: 96% of the budget was marketing. You’ve probably heard of Napoleon Dynamite. It doesn’t matter if you liked it or not…it raked in the cash at the box office.

There are lessons worth learning throughout the book; one of them is one I’ve known for a long time, that science is at odds with popular culture because it is largely an exercise in constant criticism, and people hate being criticized. We encourage a culture of negativity, because it works for us…which means, of course, that I can’t simply let the book slide by with a happy two thumbs up. I must be such a scientist. One of the things Randy seems to be oblivious to is the fact that character and personality are an essential part of the style element he is endorsing, and scientists can capitalize on their particular, peculiar, aggravating set of common characteristics. He tells his story of being the scientific dufus in the company of artists; the guy who takes things too literally, who has strange stories, who can obsess over odd stuff that no one else cares about, and who has enough character that his friends can talk about “being a Randy” and everyone knows exactly what they’re talking about. He writes as if this was a problem, and I can sympathize with some of his embarrassing moments…but it was a strength. He sounds like he was one of the interesting people in his group.

So I end up feeling a bit torn. He’s telling us “Don’t be such a scientist”, and it’s true that there are many occasions when the scientific attitude can generate unnecessary obstacles to accomplishing our goals. At the same time, though, I want to say “Do be such a scientist”, because it’s part of our identity and it makes us stand out as unusual and, like Randy, interesting, even if it sometimes does make us a bit abrasive. But, you know, some of us revel in our abrasiveness; it’s fun.

It’s definitely a book worth reading, even if what I’m saying is that a better title would be “Be Conscious of When You Are Being Such a Scientist and Modulate Your Behavior According to the Situation”. But then I’m being such a scientist, and his choice of a title is a bit snappier. Probably more marketable, too.

You can find more about the book on the official website.

I feel obligated to reply to Mooney and Kirshenbaum’s latest complaint, but I can’t really get motivated. Their argument has become so absurd and so petty that it seems a waste of time anymore.

All they’ve done is confessed that they are on a personal vendetta: they are very upset with me, they admit that my existence is a central reason that they left the scienceblogs network, and you can just feel the roiling resentment that people dare to criticize them, persistently and at length…and it’s all my fault.

I did not address their scapegoating of PZ Myers and Pharyngula in my reviews of the book because it was a palpably strange bit of personal antagonism on their part, and I confined my disagreement to the poverty of their other arguments. It is interesting to see my assessment of the anti-me sentiment now confirmed. It’s unfortunate, too. Their book is very thin on ideas and evidence, and it detracts from it further that they spend two chapters whining about people who have annoyed them. It’s unprofessional, and it reveals their own poor comprehension of how the web works. This petulant bravado, for example, is simply unreal.

For too long, people in the science blogosphere have tiptoed around Myers. After all, he can send a lot of angry commenters your way. And he, and they, are unrelenting in their criticisms, their attacks, and so on. Just read our threads over the last week—it’s all there, the vast majority from people who have not read our book and do not seem inclined to do so.

But we’re not afraid of Myers or his commenters. They can leave hundreds of posts on our blog-we readily allow it—but our book will be read by a different and far more open-minded audience. It’s already happening. And that audience will largely agree that Myers’ communion wafer desecration was offensive and counterproductive, and that more generally, he epitomizes the current problems with the communication of science on the Internet.

I have not noticed any tip-toeing around me at all — it is simply bizarre to argue that people are afraid to criticize me because something horrible might happen: they might get criticized back. That’s all I’ve got, after all: I do not have clout in government or science funding agencies, I do not have an army of ninjas, people can howl all they want about me — and they do! — and all that will happen at worst is they’ll get a brief flood of traffic and a bunch of comments on their blog. This is something most bloggers want. To claim bravery because they aren’t intimidated by the possibility that I might link to their articles is damned silly. And I have read over the last week’s worth of comments on their blog: it’s a bunch of people on the internet arguing over both sides, and many of the angriest (and dumbest) are Mooney’s own defenders.

They really don’t get it. I have no power except as a focus for a lot of like-minded people; if I were to vanish, those people would still exist, and would still be hammering at the foolishness that Mooney and Kirshenbaum emit. There is a growing minority in this country, this Unscientific America that Mooney and Kirshenbaum write about, which is fed up with the false privilege granted to religion, that wants science to have a more prominent role, that is willing to be outspoken and critical, and that is more than a little exasperated with the tepid apologists for the status quo who believe that making nice with the Unscientific part of America is the solution. That minority wants a voice, and they will have it whether I’m part of it or not. They are also our only hope for changing Unscientific America. Ultimately, the only way we can get a Scientific America is by challenging and criticizing the proponents of anti-science and un-science…and all the Colgate twins can do is protest in horror at anyone who wants to rock the boat.

This isn’t a problem with the communication of science on the internet, it is a strength. We have a platform from which we, with many voices, can roar. Use it, don’t muffle it.

Ultimately, though, the problem with their book, the one they’ve avoided despite the fact that I brought it up in my review, reiterated it in my response to their ‘rebuttal’, which Jerry Coyne discussed briefly, and that Ophelia Benson skewered with some pointed questions, is that they are thin on substance. Bellyaching about me personally is entertaining and has brought them some short-lived blog traffic, but all that is is a distraction from what ought to be the topic of conversation: how do we get the public to think scientifically and become better informed about real world matters, and make decisions rationally? I push one obvious strategy: the erosion of a major source of delusional, sloppy thinking, religion. I do not pretend that this is the only useful strategy, however. What Mooney and Kirshenbaum could have done was provide a practical alternative, with details and specific suggestions that we could then productively wrangle over. They have not. That’s the most obvious deficiency of their responses so far (other than their frequent distortions of what others and they themselves say), a strange reluctance to actually discuss what is in their book. I’ve already spilled the beans about their Grand Solution, so they might as well try to talk about it.

I predict that they won’t.

An important tip to book authors who want to decry the ability of others to engage a consensus: don’t alienate the literate, thinking part of your readership yourself. Mooney and Kirshenbaum make much of the fact that those wicked “New Atheists” are going to drive away support for science, a fact not in evidence, but they seem oblivious to the fact that their recommendation to hush up a significant element of the public voice of science is going to alienate us, and it’s working to bite them in the ass right now. In other words, Jerry Coyne’s review of their book is online.

I’ll start with my overall opinion of the book, which is that it is confused, tendentious, evanescent, and preachy.  It is a blog post blown up to book length.  Yes, there are some useful parts, in particular the emphasis on science communication and the need to reward those who are good at it. But these solutions are hardly new; indeed, I could find little in Unscientific America that has not been said, at length, elsewhere. And what is new—the accusation that scientists, in particular atheist-scientists, are largely responsible for scientific illiteracy—is asserted without proof.

I am still endlessly amazed at how proponents of congenial communication, like Mooney and Nisbet, manage to so consistently piss off the targets of their discussions while trying to appease the people who care least about good science.

Mooney and Kirshenbaum have been so stung by my criticisms of their book that they have launched a multi-part rebuttal to my review. Here’s my reply to their reply.

1. We didn’t get personal, and we didn’t attack atheism in general! Hmmm. Here’s a sampling of what they do say: “Myers’ actions were incredibly destructive and unnecessary”. I “set the cause backward”. New Atheists believe that “religious faith should not be benignly tolerated”. The “New Atheists” are “nasty bullying”. They’re “shrill”. In last year’s voting for best science blog, I was the “devil’s choice”. Blogging brings out the “loud, angry, nasty, and profanity-spewing minority”. When he refers to Pharyngula, he refers to it as a “science” blog — in quotes. It’s the “most alienating” of the blogs.

   Sure, you can call it just “criticism”. But the peculiarity here is that the only people he targets are me particularly, and “New Atheists” in general. If you’re making an objective case for a genuine problem, just hammering on one example is peculiar. If I’m representative, you’d think he’d marshal lots of examples; if I’m an outlier, he’s building a case on an exception. Which is it?

   But the biggest problem here is the uselessness of the critique, that word I used before to summarize his whole book. He provides no solutions in chapter 8, other than a general complaint that the “New Atheists” are bad. What does he propose to do about Pharyngula? Shut it down? Others will take its place. He doesn’t seem capable of recognizing that it is popular because it fills a popular niche.

2. Myers doesn’t grasp our point about Pluto! This is true. I don’t. I spelled out my complaints about this section in my previous review.

   Well, Chris and Sheril, what should the astronomers have done? Should they have had a binding referendum delivered to the public to get their say? Are there other scientific matters that should be decided by popular vote? (Let’s put the truth of evolutionary biology up for decision in a poll!) Should scientists take the time to explain with a little wit and humor and sound scientific reasoning why they made that decision? If so, they missed the boat: they should read Neil deGrasse Tyson’s The Pluto Files for exactly that. How about some discussion about exactly why they think that failed?

   Those questions have been ignored. The Pluto section of the book is available online, go ahead and look. You won’t find them saying anything about what ought to be done in the future, or where the astronomers went wrong. Again, useless.

3. Myers fails to say what the point of the whole book was! Exactly. What is it? I said the first chapter was symptomatic, and it was. Mooney and Kirshenbaum grumble about those insensitive scientists and those uppity atheists, but their proposals are either absent or so general as to be pointless, like…let’s give more media training to scientists! I agree that would be a good idea, but it’s not going to resolve any of the issues they are so bitter about.

   Do they really think that will address their complaints? I’ve had no media training at all. Imagine how nuts it would drive Mooney if I were slick and polished and skilled at using a variety of media, because it wouldn’t change my message at all!

4. Richard Dawkins is no Carl Sagan! Nope, he’s different. Woo hoo. So? That’s just the thing: we are not going to clone Carl Sagan, or raise him as a zombie. What we’re going to have is a collection of voices: a Dawkins, an Attenborough, a Tyson, a Suzuki, a Miller, and many others, all with different tones, different emphases. My objection here is that instead of diversity, Mooney and Kirshenbaum appear to want only one voice, and it’s got to be one that is conciliatory and deferential to religion and the public opinion in general.

Once again, I am unimpressed — they seem to think that I am a significant problem here, which misses the point. They’re supposedly writing about an American problem of a lack of scientific literacy. If they think I’m the root (or perhaps, the flower, even) of the problem, you can tell that they’re going off on the wrong track already.

But most importantly, they don’t answer the questions about the substance of their book. What next? Where are the answers in their book? If they really want to dig into the substance of the solutions they provide, they should try answering Ophelia Benson’s questions. I predict he won’t even try; they’re much harder.

Ultimately, this whole exchange illustrates the failure of Mooney/Kirshenbaum’s arguments. The demotion of Pluto, the rise of the “New Atheism”, PZ Myers, and blogging are all recent phenomena — they do not deal with the causes of the disconnect between society and science, and treating them is a distraction from dealing with the real problems. This book is more like a collection of poor rationalizations for complaining about stuff they don’t like than a serious and scholarly attempt to address a significant social problem. To useless, I must also add the adjective lightweight.

(I do have to wonder if they are going to feel compelled to make a reply to my reply to their reply to my review. And how are they going to cope with other critical reviews that will be coming down the pipeline? This could get fun!)