Why Write Science?

In an election year, we need fact and evidence to cut through the noise

This is proving to be an eventful year politically, especially for those of us with dual Irish and British citizenship. In the space of just a few months one of my homelands has a new Taoiseach, the other a new Prime Minister elected on a landslide. We’ve also witnessed the drama of French and (not so dramatic) EU elections. Across the pond, well … the rolling newsfeeds never seem short of fresh Biden or Trump stories. Just a couple of months ago, with the 2024 starting guns firmly sounded, we were buckling-up for the slugfest to determine which of the two men is least unpopular. It now seems (to me at least) inevitable that Biden will withdraw from the race. Whatever happens from here, one thing is certain: more political uncertainty.

Politics isn’t the only thing firing up; we face extreme threats that are, unlike many of the election claims that have been thrown at us, grounded in fact and evidence. Last year was the hottest on record: the annual average global temperature approached 1.5° Celsius above pre-industrial levels – the target limit established through the Paris Agreement. Whilst scientists are more concerned with averaged multi-year data rather than one year alone, studies are showing that 1.5° Celsius could be exceeded this decade and many agree that the averaged Paris target is effectively certain to be missed. One consequence – among many – of rising temperatures is glacier and ice sheet melting, which is raising sea levels. Another is increased weather volatility, including more severe hurricane activity. The clustering of major population centres and infrastructure assets in coastal locations risks greater devastation from adverse events linked to climate change; the frequency and costs of which are both increasing.

Despite this, as the US election season ramps up towards November’s vote, some will weaponize climate science denial as part of a broader culture war politics tearing through America. Even in more climate conscious Europe, political discourse is polluted with our own variants of this theme. Others promote false environmental policy prescriptions and ignorance about what different energy technologies can actually deliver to the cause of combatting anthropogenic climate change.

In this so-called “post-truth” era, all sides push falsehoods in equal measure, only seeing the ills of their opponents’ ways and failing to recognize their own. A campaign is underway, but there is little by way of genuine exchange of ideas: too many of us refuse to hear opposing views or engage constructively in debate anymore. We no longer care to listen.

So, why write Science?

A seemingly endless obsession with writers is to talk about why they write. Most of us have been encouraged to indulge in the practice ourselves, or to study a prominent contribution. George Orwell’s essay “Why I Write” is one of the rare offerings worth reading. Orwell’s tendency toward historical impulse and political purpose ought to be strong drivers for science writing, especially in an election year.

The purpose of my own forays into the genre is to create a more equitable world, operating sustainably to ensure that future generations can inherit viable societies on a liveable planet. It may sound idealistic, but it’s really a modest ambition. Yet the climate emergency means that simple vision for the future could be fading from view. Our failure to grasp solutions doesn’t stem from a lack of evidence, inconclusive data, or significant scientific disagreement – but rather a public communication conundrum. The challenge is how to convey climate science in ways that resonate with individual citizens’ lives, whilst at the same time mobilising governments, international organisations, corporations and wider civil society to act collectively to bring about change. This requires confidence; scientists tend to be highly trusted, while politicians and energy companies are viewed with considerable scepticism.

Climate change isn’t an emergency for a planet that will replenish itself, but for our continued existence on it. The purpose of writing about climate science is, therefore, to serve humanity. If our societies are to be viable, the trajectory of public discourse must be altered; however, this electoral cycle is exposing a reluctance or inability to change course. Contemporary challenges, from the rise of artificial intelligence, global health pandemics to climate change, involve the intersection of politics and science: they demand evidence-based debate.

Last year, Bret Stephens wrote a New York Times opinion piece entitled, “The Mask Mandates Did Nothing. Will Any Lessons Be Learned?” It elicited a strong response to Stephens’s criticism of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) adherence to its masking guidance. I was struck by a broader point Stephens made, when he wrote of the CDC: “It isn’t merely undermining the trust it requires to operate as an effective public institution. It is turning itself into an unwitting accomplice to the genuine enemies of reason and science – conspiracy theorists and quack-cure peddlers – by so badly representing the values and practices that science is supposed to exemplify.”

If the COVID-19 pandemic taught us nothing else, it demonstrated that how we communicate important public health science can profoundly impact so many aspects of our lives that we take for granted; whilst, of course, making the difference between life or death on a large scale. It also highlighted how science communication does not operate in a vacuum, but is just as exposed to social and political division and interference as other fields of our public discourse.

Stephens noted public expectation that science be, “rational, empirical, rigorous, receptive to new information, sensitive to competing concerns and risks. Also: humble, transparent, open to criticism, honest about what it doesn’t know, willing to admit error.” So, all the things our politicians are not.

Over to us, then. We must tell the science stories that will engage people and be to their benefit. The art of science writing is not only imperative, but also a public duty. Those of us who turn our hand to it should have this simple aim: may our writing be a little shard of light, piercing through the hot dark noise of contemporary discourse.