This story originally appeared on Undark.
Environmental disasters naturally spark anxiety as people fear for their personal safety, their homes, and their communities. And while a disaster can be viewed as a crisis, it can also be “a moment of opportunity,” writes ocean chemist Christopher Reddy in his new book, Science Communication in a Crisis: An Insider’s Guide. A crisis, he points out, can be “a time when you can provide clarity and information, thereby helping to affect the outcome of the event in a positive manner.”
Reddy, a senior scientist in the Department of Marine Chemistry and Geochemistry at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and a faculty member in the MIT-WHOI joint program in oceanography, researches the impact of oil spills, plastic pollution, and other contaminants. For more than 25 years he’s studied ocean disasters around the globe, and is often called upon for his expertise when disaster strikes — as he was, for example, during the 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. That spill, the largest such event in history, followed an explosion on a drilling rig owned by the oil and gas giant BP.
“At the end of the day, I’m curious about what happens when nature responds to chemicals,” Reddy says, “and how can we harness that information.”
Our interview was conducted over Zoom, and has been edited for length and clarity.
But on the flip side, I had a lot of media training and exposure by then. I’m not going to lie, there is a certain thrill in your life when people finally care about what you do, right? And so I remember, sadly, being excited that so many people wanted to talk to me. And that I was the expert.
What I started to see, often, was this idea — that was really crystallizing to me within the first month or so — that this crisis was getting played in the media, and elsewhere, like a sporting event: There’s the good guys and the bad guys, the Yankees and the Red Sox, or whatever is your equivalent. And I thought folks were treating science like a house of cards.
I was becoming increasingly frustrated that folks didn’t understand that science is more like a jigsaw puzzle, which is something I really embrace more and more.
It just always seemed like there had to be a pressure point, a point of a conflict, and that there were two sides of this conflict. And I always also got the vibe that it was very clear one was right, the other one was wrong. And that there seems to be a lack of nuance.
We go back and forth, and we actually create a lot of debate among ourselves. Whereas creating debate, for a scientist in the media, is an opportunity for a lot of misinformation. A lot of these interviews you’ll hear were scientists either being absolutely confident that something was going to happen, or they say these are all the things that we don’t know. When a scientist says “we don’t know” those are the breeding grounds for misinformation. And in reality, we usually know a lot. So I tell scientists, when you’re being interviewed, be mindful of who’s listening and then start off with all the things we do know.
I think how you build trust with science to the lay public is to work from a local perspective. I think often our best communicators are the scientists and the engineers and health professionals who live in your same ZIP code or county or state, who have a little bit more understanding of your culture, what matters to you, what is the value system of that region, and what is the past history of how things were handled.
Nobody had a better pedigree. And the fact that Trump didn’t fire Fauci says it all.
And while the information may be constantly changing, the point is, you have to be willing to recognize that we take what we can get to come out of it as best as possible. And that I think was lost on a lot of folks — this idea that there isn’t going to be a happy ending.
I think what he was thinking was that I was going to go collect samples — I was going to go analyze them. And then I think he thought that I might do a press release, or I might call up the local Channel 10, and stand on the steps of my university, without checking with our press officer or anything else, and make statements about what I’m finding, and provide unskilled and unpolished, and un-nuanced responses to the media, which in turn might have made things much worse.
But you have to prepare, and you have to be mindful of who the person is — read what the reporter has written. You have to treat an interview with the same level of diligence and respect and appreciation that you would if you were going to talk to a colleague about something. Why would you treat a reporter any less?
And then I do a couple other things. One, I always give them my cell phone number. And I underscore the significance that they have to call me back if they need something. If you’re stuck, call me. And I almost always follow up after a phone call, “Hey, it was great to talk to you. I mentioned these three papers; I talked too fast, here are the three papers.”
And, after the piece is written, I usually write back if I can. And in most cases, they do a great job. If I think that I had a connection with them, I will always tell a reporter: “If you ever have any environmental questions again, like on pollution, contact me. If you have questions about Earth sciences or ocean sciences and you can’t find an expert, come to me and I will find somebody for you.” And I think that works out really well.
Dan Falk is a science journalist based in Toronto. This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original here.