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Science journalists don’t always need to read academic papers, but it might help

The Guardian's Alok Jha introduces the debate at the Royal Institution

Earlier this week, the Royal Institution in London held an event to discuss the differences between scientists and science journalists and what they can do to better work together.

The debate moved very quickly across a range of issues and it was often hard to take much from a train of thought before we were on to the next topic.

But one thread that stayed with me, and looking at Twitter I would guess with other people too, was the issue of whether science journalists should read the research papers on which they are reporting.

There actually seem to be a few questions here. Should science journalists be able to read academic papers? Should they always read the papers? Should they try to read the papers wherever possible?

As someone who rarely reads the primary academic research I’m reporting on and, without wishing to sound boastful, rarely gets complaints about misunderstanding the science, my initial reaction to all these questions was no.

The debate has forced me to justify my position and I still think there are several good reasons for saying no, but I also think my practice may change slightly as a result.

I’m also aware I don’t often write about medical trials, which make up a lot of science reporting, and so I have to apply my judgement based on the experience I do have from covering engineering, physics, chemistry, the environment and some biology.

My first reason is a practical one: there often just isn’t time to read a paper, especially a long one and especially a complicated one. It’s almost always quicker to reach for the phone and speak to the researcher directly, which also gives you the chance to get the background info that turns a summary of research into a proper story.

Secondly, even the most intelligent, knowledgeable journalist may not understand a piece of new research – especially if it’s written up badly. And a journalist with no expertise in a field is even more likely to struggle. Speaking to the researcher means they can break things down into basic terms, another reason a phone call is preferable if you’re tight for time.

This leads on to what is probably my key reason for believing journalists don’t always need to read papers: they very often don’t need to understand the full level of detail in a paper because their readers don’t need to. If they did they could just read the paper themselves.

It may even be better for journalists to keep a certain level of distance from the detail, in order to make it easier to keep their descriptions of the work clear and avoid using jargon or prior knowledge of the topic.

Sometimes, however, I think reading the paper probably is a necessity, particularly if the journalist knows the research is controversial or the method is particularly important. 

This doesn’t mean applying some kind of science literacy test that precludes anyone from writing about science if they can’t grapple a paper, especially given that, as highlighted above, there will always be  instances where you need things explained more basically.

But journalists do need to ask questions that their readers want to know the answers to and this can sometimes mean knowing enough background information to challenge the researcher.

Having said that, and this leads me to my final reason, I’m not convinced that it’s a journalist’s job to interrogate scientists, as some people seem to believe, rather than intelligently and circumspectly reporting on their work.

Yes, we should question the significance of research and ask the researcher to justify what seem like obvious problems with it. Often it’s important to set the research in context of other work and seek outside comment on where there might be errors.

However, I don’t believe it’s a journalist’s task to pull a paper apart, scrutinising the method in detail and looking for any possible flaws. That’s what peer review is for.

On the other hand, the process of writing this blog has made me consider whether I should make more of an effort to read papers where appropriate and I think the answer’s probably yes.

Journalists shouldn’t have to be able to understand academic papers to write about science and saying they should always read them is impractical and unhelpful.

Then again, sometimes doing so could yield useful information or even occasionally the vital element of a story that turns an article from a forgettable report into a historic piece of journalism.

We need facts not nationalistic sentiment or party politics

Rarely are arguments unbiased when it comes to the energy sector. A belief that wind farms spoil the countryside or a Chernobyl-driven fear of nuclear power far too often makes its way into the debate on what sources of energy we should be investing in to keep the lights on while preventing catastrophic climate change.


Of course the solution can’t just be founded on the basic cost of power generation, and questions of safety, security and impact on our local environment have to be addressed. But these issues shouldn’t be allowed to obscure our access to the facts about the technology and economy of different energy sources – something that is happening far too often.


In January, a report alleged that two generations of ministers have misrepresented the evidence for new nuclear power stations, basing their arguments on an assumption in favour of nuclear rather than examining the facts first.


This morning we hear claims that energy bills are likely to rise due to a growing dependence on increasingly expensive gas, because industry is going ahead and building twice as many gas-fired power plants as the government previously estimated.


And in a somewhat bizarre turn, four former directors of Friends of the Earth directors yesterday warned that we were handing control of our energy supply over to the French government by building new nuclear power stations.


The scientific, environmental and political communities are all divided over what our future energy mix should look like, and how much faith we should place in gas, nuclear and renewables respectively.


With time rapidly running out to move away from fossil fuels, it’s more vital than ever that we are given a clear picture of the true costs, benefits and disadvantages of these technologies.


While warnings about backing ourselves into a corner, where we are forced to pay one company for our energy at whatever price they set, should be heeded, appealing to an odd sort of nationalism isn’t helpful. Especially as it’s one of our closest allies we’re talking about, not Russia or Iran.


Our existing nuclear sector is already largely French-owned. In fact foreign companies control a high proportion of our power generation and distribution and without major government intervention there doesn’t seem to be much alternative.


This is as true for renewables, which you’d expect Friends of the Earth to favour, as it is for more polluting forms of generation: our wind farms are mostly run by companies in Scandinavia or Germany, where the turbines are also manufactured.


There is potential for the UK to lead the world in carbon capture and storage and in marine generation, but these technologies are at too early a stage to compete with wind and nuclear for our medium-term plans. We should attempt to strengthen British industry and secure our energy supply where it makes sense to do so, but we can’t lose sight of the most important factors.


Our ultimate aim has to be to provide a secure, low-carbon energy supply in the most cost-effective way possible. The argument about how to do this should be based on facts, not pressure from industry, party politics or nationalistic sentiment. There is a great opportunity for British companies as we reshape the economy but it can’t come at the expense of our long-term energy goals.


This article first appeared on The Engineer.

Toronto: capital of cool. Or, you know, whatever.

I’ve been in Toronto for less than 36 hours and I think I’m a little bit in love. My only previous reference point for the city being the film Scott Pilgrim vs The World (based on a comic book about a slacker wannabe musician fighting his girlfriend’s evil exes), I had high hopes for Toronto being a laid-back centre for alternative culture. And so far I haven’t been disappointed.

Toronto is a lot of the things people told me it would be: cosmopolitan, clean, friendly, safe-feeling. It's architecture is impressive in places, with neo-Gothic cathedrals, period North American townhouses and gleaming skyscrapers often sat side by side. And I had some expectations of seeing a cultural output that, if not on the level of London or New York, would make it a very attractive place to spend time. But I never thought it would be this, well, cool.

It’s very much a young person’s city: around half the people I’ve passed in the street seem to have been under 35. And a lot of them look like they could be musicians, artists or maybe just book lovers. What’s really great, though, is that Toronto’s youth don’t all seem to be trying too hard. They might have Topshop and Urban Outfitters like London but there are far fewer pairs of skinny jeans, red chinos or ironic moustaches. They aren’t there to be seen; they’re just there to enjoy themselves.

High street stores sit happily next to quirky independents.

The other thing is that culture, and alternative culture in particular, seems much more integrated into the city. High street chain stores and even a few designer shops sit happily alongside the quirky independents. Instead of being largely contained to specific enclaves, Toronto’s record shops, booksellers and clothes boutiques seem to be found throughout the neighbourhoods of the city’s centre.

They’re not exclusive or expensive haunts set on side streets away from the mainstream consumers, like Soho and Carnaby Street to London’s Oxford Street. They’re not there for tourists like in Camden or rich people like in Notting Hill. They’re a vital part of the city’s regular inhabitants lives.

Every area seems to have its own theatre and park, and book stores are places where people come to hang out as if they were bars. Starbucks isn’t the only coffee shop but KFC is the only fried chicken place, as a multitude of other restaurants, cafes and takeaways fill the spaces.

Even the books in Toronto are so cool they don't have plotlines.

There’s an absence of off-licences but there are specialist beer shops. And unlike many UK shopping strips, where the big chains haven’t taken over, what remains isn’t casinos, money lenders and charity shops but local supermarkets and affordable furniture outlets. Even the bargain basement is jazzed up as a low-price ‘department store’ and actually sits above a magnificently huge independent record shop of the size and prominence you don’t see in London at all any more.

The city is proud enough of its gay village to give the road signs there rainbow flags and big mentions in the tourist guide, while sex shops that appear more cheeky than seedy yet without an Ann Summers gloss are positioned comfortably between more traditionally respectable establishments.

This social integration and cohesion isn’t everywhere, of course. High-rise blocks of expensive-looking condominiums sit outside these areas, while high-end shopping malls are nestled within a financial district where at least one of the skyscrapers is literally made of gold (gold dust in the windows at least). Starkly contrasted against this are the tramps who lie on the vents in the middle of the pavement for warmth, forcing the rest society to step around them. And yet you feel there isn’t the same level of ostentatious greed and inequality you get in London.

It's not the streets that are paved with gold but the buildings.

My snapshot day and a half in Toronto has of course been skewed by my choice of places to visit. Perhaps my longing for a Scott Pilgrim-world of cool but unpretentious twenty-somethings going to gigs, hanging out in comic book stores and working in vegetarian restaurants has led me to overlook the more mundane aspects of the city. But I’ve never had such a pleasant feeling from just wandering round somewhere for day or found it so easy to come across so many interesting yet relaxed venues. It’s a well-learned lesson in not trying too hard.