Tuesday 2 April 2013

Guardian Gyaan on Being a Science Journalist

I paid 40 pounds to attend the Guardian Masterclass on Science Journalism in London, to find out that

1. There are no jobs in print journalism for anybody, let alone print journalists.

2. You cannot become a freelance journalist – you must already be one.

3. Want to be a science journalist? Then you better have a brother-in-law in the labs.

4. Nobody wants to read what you write – that is assuming you can write.

5. The Guardian is the awesomest paper ever. And when I say ever I mean, ever.

Just kidding. Well… kinda. If you’re still reading, you probably do have a chance in print science journalism. I actually picked up a lot of useful tips in a very interesting 3 hour session conducted by James Randerson, editor of the Guardian Science Desk. For instance, I learnt that a shortened version of my intro here, in a news article, would be called a dropped intro – something that is playful, heightens drama, and is never supposed to be used in a well-written science article. Oops. The class was held in The Guardian’s impressive glass and steel office near King’s Place. I had expected around 20 other participants but was mildly shocked by the number of wannabe science journalists – all 100 places had been sold out!

James started off the talk with a mention of Tim Radford, the former editor on the Science desk and some of his tips. James reinforced Tim’s point that nowadays, the biggest pitfall in science journalism is writing that is not readable… or worse, not read. The most important person in a science news article, surprisingly enough, is you – the reader. Not the science.

Second most common pitfall? Overestimating the reader’s knowledge… and underestimating his intelligence. A typical science news story follows the inverted triangle concept – it starts off with the most newsworthy information, followed on by some details and finishing off with the background. The polar opposite of what a journal paper would do, though, in fact, very similar to the structure of an abstract. The topline hints at the specifics, but – and this was actually quite revealing – the topline of a science news story is 90% of the time a straightforward introduction to the subject of the story, not a dramatic introduction. So what makes a good science story?

There was a reason this class was advertised with a focus on health and environmental science stories. For a science story to work as news it should fulfill one of two basic criteria –

a) It should be relevant to me/my family/my friends (e.g., health stories – any number, such as the current series on running, potential cures for diseases, the list is endless)

b) Or, the story should have a ‘wow’ factor. Like the one about the meteorite in Russia. Or the discovery of the underwater lava lake by Southampton oceanography scientists.

In the second session we were given an insight into how a story makes it from a reported finding to the newspaper – a dreary drip-feed driven by press releases and news feeds from scientific journals. The whole shenanigans seems so dependent on the scientific community that it begs the question – do newspapers only ever publish stories that the scientists want them to? In fact, I had several questions bouncing around in my head, clamouring to be asked – are journalists doing a good job in communicating uncertain findings? Do the public have a right to know what’s going on in the labs, or are they merely interested?... but this talk was not a philosophical debate on the ethics of science and science journalism, so I told my questions to shut up.

Occasionally, Mr. Randerson (say that in an Agent-Smith-like voice if you’re bored) would plug the Guardian (“Contrast our responsible science publishing with the irresponsible rubbish printed by the tabloids”) but that was to be expected and did not detract from the more useful information and tips he gave us – so, forgiven.

The last bit of the talk was the most interesting, for – prepare to be shocked - unsolicited emails from individuals pitching science news stories ARE READ! Apparently this is how he got noticed. Among other things, a basic pitch should contain a topline, a peg (why now?), 50-100 words of context, a very brief summary of who you are… and if you have it, the story itself. Don’t expect a reply, let alone feedback – editors are ludicrously busy. But equally, don’t be shy to call up and harass them to atleast read your email.

Finally – tell them something they don’t know – avoid press releases and publications, and avoid regular journals – the press has these already. Oh – and in case you didn’t know - the Wellcome Trust Science Writing Contest is on.

Before I finish, I’d like to mention an interesting aside – I got talking to the guy next to me and we were both convinced that atleast 25 of the 100 participants that day were final-year PhD students, clutching at straws for their future careers. Funny image, that.

If you’re a journalist, I have nothing to say, except… watch out for those PhD students. If you’re a PhD student however… Go forth, and shine light into the murky world of science on behalf of all those lab coats in there struggling to communicate!

HTH.

3 comments:

Sam said...

Why should a dropped intro not be used in a science article?? It's the reason I read the whole of your blog entry! :D ;) Sadly though, I know points 1, 2 and 4 from your intro to be true :(

PS were you one of the 25? ;)

Sid said...

Haha - I know - I guess the editor was saying it on the premise that the headline's already got the person interested :P.

Yes - I was! Clutching at straws. Hehe.

mythili said...

Interesting report!
Left with a somewhat sad feeling as the printed word has its own charm.