A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF THE PUBLIC

by Boyce Rensberger

“Public understanding of science,” a catchphrase among scientists, is definitely a worthy goal. But the converse should apply as well: Science needs to have a better understanding of the public if the two worlds hope to communicate and work together effectively.

Over the decades that I’ve been talking to researchers, usually for the purpose of interpreting their work for the public, I’ve noticed remarkable misconceptions among scientists about how people think. It is nearly dogma among some scientists that the public is antiscience, ignorant of elementary science facts, and virtually hopeless with regard to changing those states.

Such beliefs are widespread even though they fly in the face of research that the National Science Foundation (NSF) has been doing since 1979. For example, every two years, NSF conducts a nationwide survey of U.S. adults to gauge their opinions about science and knowledge of science facts. According to the 2002 edition of Science and Engineering Indicators, 86 percent of Americans agree with the statement “science and technology are making our lives healthier, easier, and more comfortable.” Some 89 percent agree that “most scientists want to work on things that will make life better for the average person.”

It’s one thing to have a high opinion of science and scientists, but is the average person interested in science? NSF’s study, of nearly 2,000 adults chosen to be a national representative sample, found that 58 percent of American adults expressed a “high” level of interest in general science. With medical science in particular, even more—two out of three—give that rating. In fact, another study (by the Pew Research Center for the People and the Press) found that among all news topics that Americans say they “follow closely,” health ranks second—a hair behind crime and way ahead of sports. Science and technology score in the middle of the range for all subjects, but still well above entertainment, business, and consumer news.

If we assume that the polls are representative, can we also assume that the average person knows any science facts? The biennial NSF polls show that although the answer basically amounts to “not really,” the situation is steadily improving. In 1995, for example, only 21 percent could passably define DNA. That number has ticked upward every two years, and in 2001, it stood at 45 percent—still not a majority, of course, but a clear improvement. The increase is credited to two things—a change in how responses were tallied and pervasive coverage in the news media of the subject, including such widely watched events as the O.J. Simpson trial.

Other questions tell us that 70 percent of respondents know that plants produce oxygen and that 75 percent know that some radiation is natural. Slightly more than half realize that electrons are smaller than atoms, and a surprising 80 percent are aware that the continents are moving.

But what about the concerns Carl Sagan expressed in his 1996 book The Demon-Haunted World? The late astronomer described widespread popular belief in pseudoscience—astrology, for example. He argued that if people believe in that stuff, they cannot believe in science.

I challenge that view. Many people believe in both science and pseudoscience simply because they can’t tell the difference. The NSF surveys suggest an explanation. When people were asked about the nature of scientific inquiry—questions about, for example, what an experiment or a hypothesis is—only 27 percent gave acceptable answers. In other words, many more people are interested in science than grasp what makes it different from pseudoscience. They don’t understand the nature of evidence. So instead of dismissing such folks as hopelessly beyond the pale, scientists—and journalists—need to find better ways of teaching them how to think more rigorously.

First, whether they routinely cover science or not, journalists need to learn more about scientific methods and ways of thinking. These days, practically all reporters do stories with science content, at least once in a while. My own community of science writers and editors has much work to do to educate nonspecialist colleagues.

Second, when scientists talk to the public—including journalists—they should move beyond their findings and explain their methods. Unless the ordinary person sees that the new finding is founded on a plausible base of evidence, he or she has no way of knowing how science trumps pseudoscience or of moving beyond an interest in science into genuine comprehension of science. For that to happen—for achieving true “public understanding of science”—the researcher needs to have a better understanding, and greater appreciation, of the public.

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HHMI Bulletin, Spring 2004. © Howard Hughes Medical Institute.

Boyce Rensberger directs the Knight Science Journalism Fellowships program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. A science writer and editor for more than 30 years, including stints at the New York Times and the Washington Post, Rensberger is also the author of four science books. This essay was adapted from a presentation made at the Howard Hughes Medical Institute last fall.