Abstract
The articles in this special issue highlight the ways in which science communication, and in particular translational communication, implicates the nuances of language. This issue is the report of the Task Force on STEM (science, technology, engineering, mathematics) language set up by the International Association of Language and Social Psychology. The articles raise issues about the multiple stakeholders in science and their characteristic language and concepts, in contexts as diverse as health, energy production, forensic science, and science education. They point to the consequences of getting communication wrong, and to the important role of linguistics and language and social psychology in understanding this process. The articles point to a research agenda for language and social psychology researchers in this increasingly important and salient area, as we address major problems in society through the sciences.
Keywords
This special issue constitutes the report of the Task Force on STEM (science, technology, engineering, mathematics) language, set up in 2014 by the International Association of Language and Social Psychology to examine the role that language and social psychology (LASP) could and should play in understanding science communication. This field is burgeoning because it addresses central issues for both science and for communication, in the context of wicked problems for the modern world (see Rice & Giles, 2017). Science communication as an area of study is eclectic; we concentrate on the special role that language plays, and the ways in which it can usefully be approached through LASP.
In this special issue, therefore, we aim to create an intellectual space for exploring the connections between two distinct but complementary academic pursuits. On the one hand, we consider the language of science. The language of science refers to communication designed for highly expert audiences, intended to convey technical information about the state of research across the STEM and medical fields. Using the language of science, although it is essential for certain occupational tasks, is often criticized in the public sphere for being inaccessible to nonexperts, disempowering them, and therefore failing to have a helpful influence on decision making. This critique has led to a flourishing antiscience movement, including skepticism about the human influence on climate change (e.g., Hornsey, Fielding, McStay, Reser, & Bradley, 2016; Lewandowsky et al., 2015), antivaccination campaigns (Blume, 2006), and the like. Scientists themselves have reacted with consternation, highlighting the damage such movements can do to the progress of their fields and indeed to the fate of the environment and human health. Some people (e.g., Lewandowsky et al., 2015) have attributed political conservatism, conspiracy theories, and extreme motivations to the skeptics, although others have characterized them in less negative terms (e.g., Blume, 2006; Hornsey et al., 2016). In general, this situation has foregrounded the intergroup communication between scientists and nonscientists. One consequence has been greatly increased interest in science communication, as the plethora of journals (e.g., Sage’s Science Communication), textbooks, university courses, and research centers shows. Another has been an increasing focus on the translation of science (see Translation of Science and the Language of Science section), including everything from bench-to-bed pathways for new drugs to the role of communication and media in the public take-up of science and new technology; several authors in this special issue are employed in such centers or teach these courses.
On the other hand, there is a wealth of theory and research in the science of language, of which LASP is a key exponent. This arena encompasses literatures ranging from applied linguistics to social psychological perspectives on how humans communicate and create shared meaning. Language scientists examine in detail the ways in which words and nonverbal behavior signal social and personal identities, improve or exacerbate intergroup tensions, and position speakers in interaction relative to each other, audiences, events, and contexts. The science of language is itself often criticized for being pedantic, with little practical application to complex situations of high social import. However, this field is uniquely positioned to shed new light on the language of science, its antecedents, and its consequences.
To that end, this special issue has assembled a unique collection of articles that draw on various facets of the science of language to push theoretical boundaries or empirically demonstrate how certain types of communication enhance or detract from the goals scientists hope to achieve through their work. The topics of the seven articles range across the STEM and medical fields. Three of them (Neil, Krieger, Kalyanaraman, & George, 2017; Strekalova et al., 2017; Wray, 2017) deal with various aspects of health care. Two (Gallois, Ashworth, Leach, & Moffat, 2017; de Vries, 2017) concern language around climate change and energy production. One (Howes & Kemp, 2017) explores the complex arena of forensic science, and one (Brooks, 2017) addresses directly the issue of science education for nonscientists. Their approaches also vary, from linguistics and applied linguistics through to cognitive social psychology. All of them, however, point to the potential of language scholars to aid in understanding and improving communication between scientists and others.
One reason this special issue is needed is that research collaborations among language scholars and experts in the STEM and medical fields has been rare (albeit more common in the current climate of critique of science). Consequently, advances in effective intergroup communication in these domains has been slow. For this reason, we use the term “language of science” in a broad sense. We believe that one of the barriers to the advancement of this general area of study has been an artificial bifurcation of scholars based on topical interests, reflecting the fragmentation of fields in science and health more generally. For example, the field of communication is often divided into speech communities that self-identify as “health communication” or “science communication.” The former is dominated by research on improving patient decision making in the domain of public health, while the latter is dominated by studies on human decision making related to environmental and energy concerns or the introduction of new methods, theory, and technology. From a disciplinary perspective, however, these two areas of communication share a core interest in how technical information is translated for various stakeholder groups. Therefore, the special issue includes articles that span these traditional boundaries to generate insights with applications beyond a particular health or science topic.
Translation of Science and the Language of Science
One of the key similarities between health and science communication is their interest in translation, and specifically in translational communication. The purpose of this area is to focus on presentation of scientific evidence in a language and format that improves accessibility to and comprehension by an intended audience in a given context. Translational communication addresses the ongoing struggle to balance accuracy and comprehensibility of information being used to address pressing social issues. In many countries, science and health policy makers have developed elaborate ways of consulting with the general public (the voters in democracies) before they go forward. Methods like citizens’ juries (e.g., Gooberman-Hill, Horwood, & Calnan, 2008), along with more traditional polls and surveys, are employed to assess public opinion and aid in decision making. These methods stand or fall on the extent to which the underlying, often very complex, science has been translated adequately and appropriately for these interlocutors.
Deficit Model of Communication
The most common conceptualization of the science communication process, which has persisted until the present day, is a deficit (or one-way) model of communication (Bubela et al., 2009; see Rice & Giles, 2017). The deficit model assumes that problems in human decision making are due to a lack of information. Thus, the role of a scientific expert is simply to reduce this information deficit through disseminating scientific information more and better. For example, Australia’s chief scientist until 2016, Professor Ian Chubb, passionately advocated for improved STEM education and science literacy among the general public as the best way to enhance the production and uptake of science in society (e.g., Office of the Chief Scientist, 2014). In his view, the problem for scientists in getting their messages across lies in inadequate education of people in general. This attitude is common among scientists worldwide. One consequence is messages from scientists, in the media and elsewhere, that rely on untested assumptions about the importance of clarity. When scientists interact primarily with other scientists in their own area of expertise, it is nearly impossible for them to accurately identify what aspects of information will be difficult for those outside their domain to understand.
Those taking the deficit perspective also tend to make the untested (and often unstated) assumption that the mere existence of a deficit is enough to intrinsically motivate nonscientists to pay attention to information, acquire the required skills to comprehend the information, and adjust their preexisting attitudes and beliefs to conform with scientists’ interpretation of the data. When these things do not happen, stakeholders may be blamed as being antiscience or anti-intellectual (cf. Lewandowsky et al., 2015). In this way, rather than accept the potential limitations of one’s own communication, perceived value placed on science becomes a marker of group identity. In an example from public health, the term clinical trial (or randomized clinical trial can be interpreted by members of the lay public to mean that new treatments are being tested through “trial and error” (Krieger, 2014). To scientists, a “trial” is a formal scientific study design; to members of the lay public, the term “trial” is more commonly used to mean an informal test run (e.g., a trial sample of a product). The pervasive use of the term trial in medical settings, coupled with the different connotations doctors and patients associate with this term, may help us understand why participation rates in randomized clinical trials are so low. The slippage in language use between scientists and laypeople goes unnoticed and unaddressed; at worst, the public is blamed for being too conservative or antiscience. Every article in this special issue addresses this problem in one way or another, from the need to identify stakeholders carefully and accommodate to their language (Gallois et al., 2017), to subtle issues around framing messages (Neil et al., 2017; de Vries, 2017), through to the multiplicity of meanings in the same domain among different groups of stakeholders (Howes & Kemp, 2017; Wray, 2017), and the influence of identity on how people communicate about science (Brooks, 2017; Strekalova et al., 2017).
This deficit approach undergirds many science communication efforts that are conducted under the auspices of raising awareness or educational campaigns, but that almost always have a social influence goal. Those social influence goals are typically implicitly or explicitly intended to encourage certain stakeholder groups to engage in a particular behavior, such as quitting smoking or purchasing carbon offsets. These goals are obvious even in the theoretical basis for research. The Transtheoretical Model (e.g., Prochaska & Velicer, 1997) is one such example, where the desirability of change is implicit; the locus of the problem is simply an individual’s readiness to make the change. Another example is the significant resources that many governmental and other organizations continue to expend in efforts to disseminate scientific findings to various stakeholder groups, without consideration of the information needs of those audiences.
Dialogic Model of Communication
The general lack of success emanating from the deficit model of communication in key areas like health promotion and acceptance of new technology has led to other perspectives on science communication, such as a dialogic approach (Pieczka & Escobar, 2013; Rice & Giles, 2017). A fundamental assumption of this approach is that meaning is negotiated through communication. In theory, this means that rather than viewing one communicator as a “sender” and another as a “receiver,” all participants in communication are considered as simultaneously sending and receiving messages. At the same time, scholars in the science of language have long been focused on issues of communication competence and the importance of creating shared meaning between interlocutors. In this view, each interaction partner has unique needs, and all must make adjustments in a given interaction to achieve shared meaning. In practice, this means that science communication efforts are intertwined with efforts to maximize the participation of stakeholders, establish ongoing channels for meaningful feedback, and develop policies and procedures for decision making that reflect diverse domains of expertise.
There are a number of examples of ongoing efforts that embrace this dialogic approach (see, e.g., Rice & Giles, 2017). One is the encouragement by funding organizations to encourage scientists to use more community-based participatory research techniques. Community-based participatory research attempts to incorporate stakeholder perceptions of what research priorities should be in communities and identify the best way to design those studies (see, e.g., Gallois et al., 2017). A fascinating and well-developed case of this process is OMERACT (Outcome Measures in Rheumatology: http://www.omeract.org/). This independent international group of researchers, clinicians, and patients has as its explicit aim to include patients’ perspectives in all aspects of its research and practice; all of its many publications include both medical researchers (and practicing doctors) and patients as authors or reference groups.
Another such example is the growing interest in citizen scientist programs (e.g., Hand, 2010). Citizen science essentially consists of public participation in research, but the extent to which the public participates is quite variable. Perhaps the most common form of participation is citizens who are trained to collect data as part of a research project. For example, Florida LAKEWATCH is a program that relies on trained community volunteers to monitor the water quality for 1,100 lakes, 175 coastal sites, 120 rivers, and 5 natural springs throughout the state of Florida (Hoyer, Bigham, Bachmann, & Canfield, 2014). Collecting research and regulatory quality data throughout an entire region is massive effort; these data were made possible by effectively connecting the need for data with the passion of community members for protecting their natural environment. Citizen scientists can also play an important role in the design of research, meeting with scientists to help identify which scientific problems will be addressed, and providing feedback on different potential strategies for addressing those problems. This process has generally been successful in OMERACT, but there have been some unintended consequences for patients who have moved too far toward the scientist identity (de Wit, Abma, Koelewijn-can Loon, Collins, & Kirwan, 2013). Finally, there is a growing emphasis on encouraging more interactive methods of science communication, such as opportunities for stakeholders to ask questions of experts and receive immediate answers. One example is the Science community on Reddit, a social media website that allows individuals to post messages using an online bulletin board system. This online community of over 8 million users sponsors an “Ask Me Anything” session, where a scientist answers posted questions in real time.
In short, accepting one-way models of communication as the appropriate status quo is problematic. The path toward more dialogic forms of science communication is neither easy nor clear, however. The articles in this special issue make a significant contribution toward using the science of language to examine the overall practices and processes of communication in scientific contexts. In doing so, we seek to correct common misperceptions about science communication. One key question is this: Who are the communicators or stakeholders in science communication? Another fundamental component of communication addressed by these articles concerns the ways in which interlocutors enact their identity in science communication situations. We consider the contexts of science communication, and the ways that language is influenced by them and influences them. Finally, each article points to research that can and should be done by scholars in LASP, with a view to improving both scientific research and science communication.
Stakeholders in Science Communication
It is commonly assumed that the main stakeholders in science communication are scientists and members of the lay public. Several articles in this special issue problematize this assumption, by describing the range of stakeholders involved in various science communication contexts and the complexities associated with identifying the unique concerns and perspectives of each group (see Giles & Maass, 2016, for detailed discussions of intergroup language). Howes and Kemp (2017) explore interprofessional communication and how scientific findings are used by nonscientists, who may be expert in other fields, in the decision-making process. In the case of communication about forensic science, potential stakeholders include forensic scientists themselves, police, lawyers, judges, and jurors. Each of these groups has its own language and jargon, and its own communicative goals. For instance, forensic scientists have ambiguity embedded in every aspect of their language, whereas the other groups look for “straight answers” in the evidence they present. The authors describe the range of cognitive biases that can complicate the accurate exchange of information in these contexts. Specifically, they argue that the justice system should reconsider how shared meaning can be negotiated through dialogue and participation.
Gallois et al. (2017) discuss the interplay of scientists, for-profit companies, and the local communities affected by environmental operations, in the context of companies negotiating a social license to operate a project. This article illuminates not only who the stakeholders are but the variations in their concerns. For example, community objections to commercial environmental operations may not only be concerned about the environmental implications of the work, as is commonly assumed. While this is a very real concern for some, the perspectives of communities are complex and include both economic (e.g., workers not patronizing local businesses) and social concerns (e.g., workers not being permitted to engage in community recreational activities).
Identity Negotiation and Science Communication
Intergroup communication involves the complex and dynamic interplay of multiple identities that may or may not be salient in a particular context (cf. Giles, 2016; Giles & Maass, 2016). For example, there has been much attention in recent years to the role of stereotypes as an influencing factor in the low numbers of women and minorities in STEM careers and in senior appointments in academic medicine (Reuben, Sapienza, & Zingales, 2014). The concern is that current homogeneity in the scientific system is self-perpetuating, and that if women and minorities do not see others with social group identities similar to their own, they will not view these careers as viable. The data in the article by Brooks (2017) provide support for this idea, but also extend it. Students in this sample believed that careers in science are associated with particular social groups. However, the stereotypical scientist was also associated with a number of prototypical characteristics that these students found socially unattractive, such as boring, isolated, and uncreative. Thus, efforts to change the “face” of science, and to communicate this change, are likely to fall short. Instead, we need to carefully consider what enactment of a science identity entails, and present the very diverse characteristics that lead to success in scientific fields.
Brooks (2017) also points to the vital need to systematically address science communication in the formal training of students. For example, communication programs could offer courses for scientists that provide exposure to some of the core considerations associated with crafting effective messages (see also Rice & Giles, 2017). Encouraging students across disciplines to work together could also set the stage for future successful interactions in which communication scholars and scientists in STEM and medicine learn to collaborate to answer important questions about how best to communicate socially relevant information. In doing this, however, it is important for students to maintain strong and positive discipline identities, so that they can cross these boundaries with confidence.
Fitting the Language to the Context
The process of translational communication is often mischaracterized as “dumbing down” complex or technical information for lay audiences. In part, this mischaracterization has been fueled by the plain language movement (e.g., Asprey, 2010). The original purpose of plain language practices (often via legislation) was to encourage communication accommodation. This means that the written materials produced by governmental agencies and other organizations were encouraged to match the communication needs of the intended audience in terms of syntax, vocabulary, and content. The spirit of this movement was to promote shared meaning. Unfortunately, the implementation of the movement was reduced to ensuring that materials were written at an appropriate reading level. As a result, an appreciation for the literacy and numeracy skills of the intended audience, along with considerations of where and how information would be accessed, were replaced with more straightforward rules about avoiding multisyllabic words, using simple grammar, and so forth.
Theoretical and empirical thinking in this special issue demonstrates the danger in this approach. Specifically, two articles examine the complexities associated with message framing. de Vries (2017) describes a model outlining the unintended boomerang effect of positively framing messages about energy technology. This work extends research in the language of persuasion, demonstrating that the most persuasive arguments are two-sided with refutation (Allen, 1991). Yet many environmental arguments are built on a compliance-gaining paradigm, and as such, they rely on one-sided messages that highlight only the positive aspects of a given technology. As research in other contexts suggests, audiences who are exposed to information that contradicts the positive messages over time react against the feeling of being manipulated.
In the context of health promotion, Neil et al. (2017) also address questions of how issues of science should best be framed. In particular, this article grapples with the best way to communicate to stakeholders when scientific understanding of an issue has shifted. Perhaps one of the best known examples of this problem is how to use population-level epidemiological data to inform individual-level decisions about health screening. As epidemiological surveillance data become more sophisticated, screening recommendations shift to promote adequate screening without overutilization of medical services (which is not only costly but can be burdensome to patients). Neil et al. show that even minute linguistic features can shift audience responses to scientific communication. In their study, people responded more favorably when screening recommendations were framed as “new,” as compared with “changed.” They argue that the latter may evoke perceptions of science as being capricious and unsystematic. These results underscore the importance of continuing to investigate how to best use language to demonstrate that science is consistently evolving and how it does (or does not) benefit the public (see Rice & Giles, 2017, for a detailed consideration).
Translating Science: Language and Knowledge Brokers
One solution to the complex problems in science communication has been to describe a role for knowledge brokers, especially in interdisciplinary contexts. For example, Riedlinger, Gallois, McKay, and Pittam (2004) found that, when members of an interdisciplinary group had the communicative skills to cross the boundaries of their colleagues, they could enhance communication and productivity in complex and geographically dispersed scientific organizations. This kind of finding raises questions about who these knowledge brokers might be, and what skills they should have. In her article, Wray (2017) discusses this process in the context of communication about dementia and communication with people who have dementia. She notes the significant slippage in the meaning and use of terms and concepts related to dementia, and the linguistic and social reasons for the changes in discourse. She describes in some detail the consequences for comprehension and for social life of this slippage. Wray concludes that linguists, as specialists in the nuances of language, may be the best brokers for scientific teams (Wray calls them linguistic brokers). This idea of a broker outside the science, with special skills in language, presents a very intriguing prospect, and it will be interesting to see how it develops across the large gap between science and the humanities.
In some cases, science-related pursuits are (or should be) only one of the goals being pursued in a given interaction. In medical contexts, health care providers are often driven by a goal to extract information from patients and come to a medical diagnosis as quickly and efficiently as possible. Strekalova et al. (2017) demonstrate the importance of attending to other goals that might be equally important in those interactions. They argue that nurses are appropriate knowledge brokers, given their hierarchical status between patients and doctors (and other medical specialists), and their core goal to provide the best care for patients. A key skill to fulfill this role is empathy, or the capacity to see the patient’s point of view and to accommodate to it. They present an interesting way to measure empathy and draw out some of the consequences of using it or not.
Conclusion: LASP and Science Translation
This brings us to one of the main points of the special issue: Translating science is an exercise in communication accommodation (see Giles, 2016; Rice & Giles, 2017). Translational communication is often described only as a process of simplifying technical information for nonexpert audiences. While language modification is often a necessity, true translation requires a much more sophisticated consideration of communication processes. A key component of this process is understanding the information needs of the different audiences who benefit from understanding the state of science. Scientists have often been found wanting in their capacity to adapt their communication to these various audiences, which has had negative consequences in attitudes toward their work, uptake of new technology and findings, and access to funds and other resources. Our goal is to underscore how understanding and addressing the challenges inherent in adapting complex scientific information in a manner that accommodates to various audiences presents a unique and fruitful domain for intergroup communication and language researchers. The articles in this special issue focus on the unintended outcomes of systematic underaccommodation in the realms of public and personal health, the environment, the justice system, and science education. Importantly, the conceptual and contextual problems addressed herein are not exhaustive. Instead, these articles are exemplars of the types of conceptual communication issues that appear across many scientific contexts and they imply a research agenda. We hope that readers enjoy these articles, and that the articles pique their imaginations and provoke interest in following up. The issues raised here are too important to ignore.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We are grateful for the helpful comments on earlier drafts of this article by the editor as well as the contributions of all the authors in this special issue.
Authors’ Note
This article was prepared as part of the authors’ research at the Universities of Florida and Queensland.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.