planetarium she reaches across space to find my hand
by John Hawkhead
In the 2008 USA presidential election, Senator John McCain criticised the value (and cost) of planetariums, as being little more than “overhead projectors”.
Yet planetariums, as well as being a unique form of entertainment, are valuable science communication tools: interactive and immersive pedagogic instruments for astronomical education.
For example, research by Plummer (2008) suggests that attending a planetarium program increased understanding of celestial motion in students aged 6 to 8 years old. Planetariums are also especially valuable for those living in large towns and cities, where light-pollution prevents most stars from being visible.
To celebrate the value and power of planetariums, the second Sunday of every March is International Day of Planetariums.
‘Early elementary students’ development of astronomy concepts in the planetarium’, Journal of Research in Science Teaching: https://doi.org/10.1002/tea.20280
Author bio:
John Hawkhead (@HawkheadJohn) has been writing haiku and illustrating for over 25 years. His work has been published all over the world and he has won a number of haiku competitions. John’s books of haiku and senryu, ‘Small Shadows’ and ‘Bone Moon’, are now available from Alba Publishing (http://www.albapublishing.com/).
mother tongue day the students trying to script an alien language
by R. Suresh Babu
Kids should not ignore their mother tongue. If they do, they are going to lose connection with their tradition and environment. To make a country scientifically advanced, we need to learn and teach science in vernacular languages.
R. Suresh Babu is a graduate teacher of English and a teacher counsellor in a Government Residential School in India. He is an alumnus of the Regional Institute of Education, Mysuru in India. His works have been published in Cattails, Failed Haiku, Wales Haiku Journal, Akitsu, Presence, Under the Basho, Poetry Pea Journal and Podcast, The Asahi Shimbun, World Haiku Series, The Mamba, Kontinuum, Haikuniverse, Cold Moon Journal, Chrysanthemum, tsuri-dōrō and The Mainichi. He is a contributing writer to the anthology, We Will Not Be Silenced of the Indie Blu(e) Publishing. He has done the art works for the Haiku anthology Bull-Headed, edited by Corine Timmer. You can follow him on Twitter @sureshniranam
Once upon a time, I heard science as stories. I recall them well.
Storytelling and narrative are fundamental in almost every aspect of our lives. We are storytelling animals, narrative helps us to make sense of the world.
The ethnologist Kurt Ranke and communication scholar Walter Fisher both independently coined the idea that humans are “homo narrans” – storytelling animals who are persuaded to make decisions based on the coherence and fidelity of stories. Psychologist Jerome Bruner describes this ‘narrative mode of thought’ as being concerned with human wants, needs, and goals. Stories “help people make sense of the facts by framing them with particular narratives about how the world works” (Davidson, 2017).
The consequence of humans organising our thoughts through stories is that they tend to stick in the brain.
Numerous studies have shown that narrative and storytelling increase interest in and recall of information, and can be effectively employed in science communication. Hong & Lin-Siegler (2012) found that adding narrative to bare facts “increased student interest in science, increased their delayed recall of key science concepts”. Narrative “improves information processing, increasing recall of and interest in, the story” (Martinez-Conde et al. (2019).
Framing scientific information as stories increases the impact and power of the communication, but narrative can do more than just stimulate interest and improve recall. A study by Morris et al. (2019) found that “narratives framed as stories consistently outperformed factual narratives for encouraging action-taking in all audiences.”
“Plenty of creatures are intelligent but only one tells stories”
It’s a lovely statement that perfectly encapsulates the importance of narrative and storytelling to our place as a species. It’s also 17 syllables long.
Hong & Lin-Siegler (2012) How learning about scientists’ struggles influences students’ interest and learning in physicshttps://doi.org/10.1037/a0026224
With the release of his book Science Communication Through Poetry, Dr. Sam Illingworth, Associate Professor in Academic Practice at Edinburgh Napier University, presents a guide to all things science poetry. Read on for The Sciku Project’s review!
Reflections and wishes
I didn’t really know what I was doing when I started The Sciku Project. For most of my career I’d been the stereotypical scientist, focussing on the intricacies of my subject at the expense of other things. (I’ve mentioned before my frustration at a curtailed English literature and language education.) I was hooked on one form of poetry and I was passionate about using it to communicate science. But I was a bit clueless about how.
So I researched and read up and studied and learnt and designed and built and wrote and created until eventually, a little over 5 years ago, The Sciku Project was launched into the world.
At that point the real education began. Since then I’ve:
Read, written, edited, published and promoted hundreds of sciku.
Researched the advantages of using poetry for science communication (instead of only instinctively believing that it is beneficial).
Learnt how to effectively use social media and how to promote the site (even if I’m still a bit rubbish!).
Developed workshops and discovered approaches that get people excited and participating (as well as things that don’t!).
Explored, practiced and taught haiku structure and form beyond the three core traditions (17 syllables, cutting word and seasonal reference).
Discovered how to read and enjoy other forms of poetry, and seen first-hand how poetry of all forms can be effective at communicating science.
And that’s just the tip of the educational iceberg! I’ve come a long way and am proud of what I’ve learnt and achieved (whilst being the first to admit I could and should do and learn more).
I wonder how much further along would I be if I’d had Sam Illingworth’s latest book Science Communication Through Poetry to read back when The Sciku Project was nothing but an idea in my head?
Science Communication Through Poetry
Three things you should know before I go any further: (i) A copy of Science Communication Through Poetry was kindly provided by the publisher Springer Nature; (ii) I’ve worked with Sam a few times over the years, as a reviewer for Consilience (the science poetry journal that he founded) and on a workshop and poetry competition I organised in 2021; and (iii) The Sciku Project is referenced in the book itself, as is my 2017 Science article about the site’s inception.
With those disclaimers in mind, here’s what I think of Sam’s latest book:
Science Communication Through Poetry is the book I wish I’d had before I started The Sciku Project.
I’m not exaggerating. In Science Communication Through Poetry Sam lays out all of those things I’ve learned in my years of running The Sciku Project, and so much more to boot.
A bit of Fry and Learning
Science Communication Through Poetry is split into three broad sections. The first third of the book covers the what, why, where and how of science poetry: the benefits of writing science poetry, how to find and read poetry, how to write your own science poetry and how to share your poetry. (If I’d has this 5 years ago things would have been a lot easier!)
Dr. Sam Illingworth, Associate Professor in Academic Practice at Edinburgh Napier University, UK (source).
Poetry can be intimidating for the beginner. I’ve recently read Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled. It’s undeniably excellent and beautifully written, but it’s also heavy going if you aren’t already invested in understanding the underlying structures of a great many forms of poetry.
Wisely Sam avoids going into too much detail. Meters, feet and iambs are all very briefly introduced in the context of a few example forms of poetry without scaring the newcomer away. For someone just starting out on their poetry journey it’s perfect, enough to engage and interest without overwhelming. The Ode Less Travelled is suggested as further reading and I wish I’d read Science Communication Through Poetry first before diving headfirst in Fry’s poetry bible.
“Poetry is truth dwelling in beauty”
Robert Gilfillan’s statement about poetry and truth strikes at the heart of one of the fundamental roles of poetry: to convey knowledge and truth. Plato said something similar (“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history”), as did the French priest and poet Joseph Roux (“Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes”).
But if poetry can illuminate truths, then can we use poetry to ask questions of scientific discourse and of science itself?
It’s this question that the middle portion of the book seeks to answer. The chapters cover two research methods using science poetry: Poetic Content Analysis (“analysing poetry written about a specific topic or theme”) and Poetic Transcription (“creating poetry from other qualitative data” such as interviews or survey responses).
The front cover of Issue 1 of Consilience, the science poetry and science art journal that Sam Illingworth founded in 2020 (source).
This was completely new for me. I’ve never used poetry as more than just a communication tool (and for my own pleasure!) but Sam shows why and how you can use poetry as a research method to “interrogate both science and scientific discourse”. I found it absolutely fascinating. Sam walks the reader through the steps, providing a worked through example of each research method.
After reading these chapters I want to try the research methods out myself and feel like, with the book alongside me at each stage of the way, I could actually do so. It’s an impressive achievement given I’ve only ever used quantitative statistics. (I’m a Generalized Linear Model fanboy, yet here I am excited by the prospect of trying qualitative analysis!)
It’s an example of the importance and power of taking an interdisciplinary approach, the core argument that lies behind everything the book advocates.
Don’t forget the biscuits!
The final third of the book is about how poetry can be used as a way of creating dialogue between scientists and non-scientists, through collaboration and workshops. There’s lots of very practical advice and suggestions, as well as worked through examples which provide a fantastic framework for those getting started.
I really admire Sam’s six-point manifesto for collaboration:
Begin at the start.
Grant agency.
Reward involvement
Be humble
Encourage evolution.
Listen.
The manifesto nicely complements Sam’s advice on not leaving participants or facilitators of workshops in a HUFF: be Humble, be Unaesthetic, be Flexible, be Fair. These stood out for me as great examples of the ethos that runs through the book. It’s clear Sam is passionate about his subject and that he cares deeply about sharing his enthusiasm with others, engaging and enabling them to experience that joy.
I also like how practical some of the advice is. This sentence on p145 genuinely made me chuckle:
“I also had to remember to bring the notebooks and biscuits to each session, both of which were critical for effective delivery of the workshops.”
We’re all human and sometimes the smallest things, such as bringing along biscuits to a workshop, can make all the difference in how an audience engages and participates. The advice Sam gives, from the big picture to the minor details, speak of his depth of experience and practical knowledge of engaging scientists and non-scientists with science and poetry.
This experience shines through in the many examples of fabulous things Sam’s done with science poetry, but I never felt that it comes across as bragging. Every stated achievement is balanced by an admittance of some other failure or area where something could have been improved. It comes back to the constant of his manifesto and HUFF: be humble.
Conclusions
Communicating science through the medium of poetry is still a relatively new practice. Sam Illingworth shows just how impactful it can be, leading the charge for this interdisciplinary approach. I believe Science Communication Through Poetry is a fantastic resource for both the novice and experienced science poet and communicator.
It’s accessible, engaging and constantly interesting, encouraging the reader to have a go themselves. Dotted throughout the book are exercises you can try out for yourself. I found the ones I tried thoroughly enjoyable. They pushed me to try forms of poetry beyond my normal comfort zone and to seriously consider ways in which I can take everything I’ve been doing with The Sciku Project to the next level.
I wish I’d had Science Communication Through Poetry to refer to over the last 5 years, I’d have returned to it again and again for advice and inspiration.
I’m very glad to have it for the next 5 years and beyond.
the best science show at the Fringe—sound & light waves illuminate minds
by Dr Michael J. Leach
This sciku is a tribute to science communicator Rayner Explainer’s show A Flying Photon.
This show about the all-important photon—an elementary particle of light—has received excellent reviews, including but not limited to ones in InDaily, On The Record UniSA, and The AU Review.
Following sold-out shows at the Adelaide Fringe 2022, A Flying Photon won the Science at the Fringe Award presented by Inspiring SA. You can read more about the show’s topic in Rachel Rayner’s poem ‘Photonics’, which appeared in the debut issue of Consilience.
vaccine acceptance correlates with a belief in the greater good
by Dr Michael J. Leach
During 2020 and 2021, acceptance of coronavirus disease-19 (COVID-19) vaccines has been among the most topical areas of health science research. As COVID-19 vaccine availability continues to rise worldwide in a global effort to combat the ongoing coronavirus pandemic, more and more people are faced with the question of whether or not to get vaccinated. Even when an approved COVID-19 vaccine is readily available to a particular subgroup of the global population, a high level of vaccine uptake cannot be guaranteed. For one reason or another, individuals within the population may be hesitant to roll up their sleeves to receive the COVID-19 vaccine.
In a UK population-based study, Freeman et al. (2021) investigated factors related to vaccine hesitancy through an online survey completed by 5,114 adults over September-October 2020. The research team measured vaccine hesitancy within the study population using a specially developed tool—the Oxford COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy scale. While 71.7% of surveyed adults expressed willingness to accept the COVID-19 vaccine, 16.6% were very unsure about vaccination and 11.7% showed strong vaccine hesitancy.
Among the various beliefs, views, attitudes, and past experiences considered by the researchers in their analysis, the factor most strongly correlated with vaccine hesitancy was whether or not individuals believed in the collective importance of COVID-19 vaccination. An individual’s belief in the collective importance of COVID-19 vaccination is defined as the recognition that getting vaccinated protects the community and saves lives. This belief is consistent with the critically important field of public health and with the idea of doing something—in this case, getting vaccinated—for ‘the greater good’.
Based on the results of their study, Freeman et al. suggest that public health messages highlighting the societal benefits of vaccination could be broadcast in an effort to increase belief in the collective importance of COVID-19 vaccination and, thus, improve vaccine acceptance and uptake.
The original research article described here is available open access online: Freeman D et al. (2021). COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy in the UK: the Oxford coronavirus explanations, attitudes, and narratives survey (Oceans) II. Psychological Medicine 1–15. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7804077/pdf/S0033291720005188a.pdf
Michael J. Leach (@m_jleach) is an Australian epidemiologist, biostatistician, and poet based at the Monash University School of Rural Health. His debut poetry collection is Chronicity (Melbourne Poets Union, 2020).
Radar obscura Misrepresenting data yet such lovely shapes
Recently I’ve been looking at how to visualise some data in a way that’s engaging for the reader. Radar charts (also known as spider charts, web charts and star plots) seemed to fit the bill. My data with its 6 variables per subject can create a variety of irregular hexagonal shapes that are interesting and informative. Curiosity even had me wondering whether I could look at the surface area of the shapes to compare between different subjects.
Problem solved?
Perhaps not.
In reading up on radar charts I found articles by Chandoo (2008), Odds (2011) and Morin-Chassé (2020) outlining why my plans might not be ideal, and why despite their good looks, comparing between subjects can be less intuitive than simple bar charts. The issue lies with what is added to the data when visualising it. Let’s take my radar chart with 6 variables as an example.
The radar chart consists of a centre point with the 6 variables coming out from it like the spokes of a wheel, with the length of each spoke being the value for that subject in that category. The end of each spoke is then connected to its immediate neighbours with straight lines (although some radar charts are circular and the connecting lines are curved).
Two example radar charts.
The main thing the reader sees and focuses on is those connecting lines and the hexagonal shape they create. But that shape actually means very little – it’s not the actual data, instead it’s a circular sequence of the relationships between pairs of neighbouring variables. Ultimately the reader can easily be distracted from the data by how its visualised.
It gets worse – the shape created depends on a couple of factors:
1. The scale of each spoke.
2. The order of the variables arranged around the graph.
A different scale for one or more of the variables or a different order of the variables around the graph and the resulting shape can look very different. These decisions can also make it harder for readers to interpret the graph – imagine trying to read 6 different axes with their own units and trying to understand what they mean.
What’s more, the areas of the resulting shapes change as the shapes themselves change – simply swapping the location of two variables can result in a different shape and so a different area. And even if the shapes were always regular hexagons, the area doesn’t increase proportionally to the spoke length – a radar graph with longer spokes would have a disproportionally large area compared to one of the same shape with shorter spokes.
These two radar charts are the same subject and underlying data but the positions of two of the variables has been swapped, creating very different shapes with surface areas that differ by about 2%.
All this means that in many situations radar charts can actually cloud interpretation of the data rather than make it clearer. Doesn’t stop them being a good looking graph though!
Curious about what to use instead of radar charts? Check out the articles below for alternatives (including stellar charts and petal charts) and to get a more detailed (and far better written and explained!) understanding of some of the flaws of radar charts.
A note about the sciku: I’ve used the word obscura in the first line. In this case I mean to suggest how the radar chart obscures or obfuscates the data. I could have written obscurer but I wanted to reference the camera obscura that were used from the second half of the 16h century onwards as drawing aids to produce highly accurate representations and were later integral to the development of the camera. I liked the comparison between something that made things clearer and something that purported to make things clearer but often doesn’t.
Watercolour feast Self-contained ecosystem Suddenly too hot
Recently I decided to combine two of my passions – science communication through the medium of haiku and writing about board games – to create a collection of board game haiku. The haiku that leads this article is taken from that collection and is about a board game called Evolution: Climate, designed by Dominic Crapuchettes, Dmitry Knorre and Sergey Machin. As the title suggests, the game focuses on the theory of evolution and the impacts of climate on species survival.
In the game each player controls a number of species (generally 1-3) and ‘evolves’ those species to meet the needs of the game environment based on the current climate, the availability of food, and the other species competing for that food. The player whose various species have eaten the most food over the course of the game wins.
What makes Evolution: Climate interesting as a game are the various traits your species can evolve and the way they all interact. Some are straightforward: ‘Foraging’ lets a species take an extra food token from the central supply; ‘Long Neck’ allows a species to access the food supply first; ‘Heavy Fur’ and ‘Mud Wallowing’ enable a species to survive cooler or hotter temperatures.
Other traits are more complex, allowing players to create intelligent symbionts that feed and protect one another. Oh yes, I said protect. The game includes carnivorous, defensive and scavenging traits that turn a mild herbivorous experience into an arms race where species can, and will, go extinct due to hunger or predation.
Evolution: Climate published by North Star Games (image source).
Whilst this all sounds like it might be complicated, it’s surprisingly streamlined and approachable, in part because of the science it’s based on. The concept of evolution and the survival of the fittest are such well-known ideas that most people are able to grasp the game without too much trouble. But, famous though it is, the theory of evolution is also one of the most misunderstood concepts in science and researchers can spend a lot of time trying to make their subject clear for the general public.
So is Evolution: Climate science communication? Can board games even be forms of science communication?
Science communication takes place for a variety of reasons. We can benefit from an improved understanding of our existence – scientific knowledge can help us navigate an increasingly complex and technological world. Science communication can influence political decision making (for example around policy issues of health care or animal welfare) and plays a key role when it comes to popular misconceptions about cutting-edge science (think of the refuted idea that the MMR vaccine causes autism).
Some of the many traits you can give your species in Evolution: Climate (image: A.Holmes).
Better public awareness of science can also lead to greater numbers of students choosing to continue down STEM career paths, leading to global economic benefits and further advancements in every aspect of our lives. There are other economic considerations too. Research is often funded through taxpayers’ money. Morally, it’s important that scientists share their findings, justifying how the funding was used and what the results were (this also means that, for researchers, effective science communication can be a route to accessing further funding).
What’s interesting about science communication is how it’s changed over time. The traditional concept is largely one-way: an expert telling non-experts something about their subject. But as the limitations of this approach have become more apparent there has been a movement towards two-way communication.
Dr Sam Illingworth, Senior Lecturer in Science Communication at The University of Western Australia and co-director of the Manchester Game Studies Network, has one of the clearest definitions of science communication: “communication between scientists and non-scientific publics”. Note that communication is with not directed at, and the term ‘public’ includes a whole range of people with very different experiences, educations, interests and needs. It’s why science communicators are continually exploring different mediums for communication, including board games.
Board Games as ‘Accidental Education’
Educational board games are not new. In 1903, Elizabeth Magie created The Landlord’s Game, which served to illustrate the negative aspects of concentrating land ownership in the hands of a privileged few. Today, the game is known as Monopoly. Similarly, The Game of Life dates back to 1860 with the release of The Checkered Game of Life by Milton Bradley, who designed the game to have a moral message (that people should be continually vigilant against the vices of humanity and the world).
The Checkered Game of Life, complete with spaces such as ‘Gambling to Ruin’, ‘Perseverance to Success’ and ‘Suicide’ (image source).
Following a crash in popularity in the 1990s, board games have seen an enormous resurgence over the past decade, with the industry predicted to be worth an estimated $12 billion by 2023. The reasons are many – improved game designs, increased production quality, the need for human interaction and social bonding, a rejection of screens and the digital, not to mention a global pandemic that has resulted in millions of people staying at home and looking for new ways to be entertained.
With the tabletop resurgence has come a whole raft of new games designed to educate as well as entertain. Some use STEM-concepts and history as a background against which to design a game. Looney Labs have a range of science-themed editions of their hugely successful card game Fluxx, a game that has you playing cards that change the rules and even how you win as you go along. It’s silly, quick and easy but designer Andy Looney worked with scientists to ensure that the Anatomy, Astronomy, Chemistry, Math(s) and Nature versions of Fluxx contain a wealth of accurate information about their subjects. These games present scientific concepts without asking the players to necessarily engage with them, operating a form of information osmosis without getting in the way of the fun.
Chemistry Fluxx, published by Looney Labs, is an elemental card game informed by science (image source).
Chemistry Fluxx and its siblings are just one of a variety of games that use scientific ideas as a background for exciting gameplay. One such game is 2019’s critically acclaimed Wingspan, in which players try to place birds into their natural habitats in optimal combinations, with the game’s cards crammed full of information about the different species of birds. Wingspan’s designer, Elizabeth Hargrave, calls these types of games “accidentally educational” – games that teach the players about their subject without appearing to be instructive. Keeping to the natural world, Hargrave’s follow up, Mariposas, has players guiding monarch butterflies in their annual migration around North America. Other games that use STEM-ideas include:
Photosynthesis – a game of cultivating trees to convert the most sunlight into energy.
CO2 Second Chance – a cooperative game where players represent energy companies trying to keep carbon dioxide levels down around the globe.
Terraforming Mars – a game that has players juggling oxygen levels, temperature and the creation of habitats in preparation for the colonisation of Mars.
Wingspan, published by Stonemaier Games, includes cards for 170 unique birds, with each card presenting information about the habitats, anatomy, behaviour and range of the species (image source).
Board Games as Science Communication
Whilst some games use science as a background, others are designed from the ground up to educate. Genius Games specialises in such games, although the term ‘educational game’ tends to be avoided as it conjures up ideas of dull games that preach but don’t entertain. John Coveyou, a former chemistry and physics teacher, set up Genius Games to create “great games designed accurately around hard science concepts”. Coveyou has designed games that have players activating organelles inside a human cell (Cytosis: A Cell Biology Game), collecting elements from the periodic table (Periodic: A Game of the Elements), and building atoms using quarks, photons, protons, neutrons and electrons (Subatomic: An Atom Building Game).
These are games that dive deep into the science of their themes but never neglect the point that board games are meant to be fun. You don’t need to know anything about the science behind the games in advance of playing but may find you know a little more at the end of the game. Intentionally educational without requiring players to do any of the pedagogical heavy lifting.
Cytosis: A Cell Biology Game, published by Genius Games, takes place within a human cell and has players activating organelles to collect resources such as carbohydrates and ATP in order to build enzymes, hormones, and hormone receptors (image source).
Nerd Words: Science!, another game from Genius Games, asks a little more from it’s players. Participants are divided into 2-3 teams, with a player tasked with giving one-word clues and the teams trying to work out the scientific term the clues are about. For instance, the term might be photosynthesis and clues could be sunlight, plants or oxygen. Whilst many of the games I’ve covered don’t require any prior knowledge of the subject, in Nerd Words: Science! players need to have some understanding of the scientific terms in order to creatively think of and interpret the single-word clues.
Taking an even more proactive approach to educational board games, some designers are using funds to boost charitable work or inspire players to make a change in their lives. Endangeredhas players trying to convince UN Ambassadors to save vulnerable species (tigers and sea otters in the base game) whilst simultaneously trying to keep those species surviving long enough to be saved. The team behind Endangered worked with the Centre for Biological Diversity during the development of the game, created a ‘tip jar’ that allowed backers on Kickstarter to donate to the Centre, and have worked to get copies of the game sent to schools, libraries, museums, zoos, and aquariums.
Similarly, Carbon City Zero is a game created by researchers at Manchester Metropolitan University and specifically designed to get the players “talking about cleaning up our energy system”. The game is a race to create a carbon neutral city and involves concepts such as fuel poverty, green mortgages, public awareness and governmental lobbying. The team (which includes Dr Sam Illingworth, of the nice science communication definition) has worked hard to ensure that the production of Carbon City Zero doesn’t have a negative impact on the environment either – it’s “fully reusable, replayable and recyclable”.
Carbon City Zero published by Possible (formerly 10:10 Climate Action), has players trying to create a carbon neutral city (image source).
Profits from Carbon City Zero are being used to produce additional copies of the game to distribute to schools and community organisations across the UK, free of charge. The second, updated edition, Carbon City Zero: World Edition, is (at the time of writing) live on Kickstarter and you can check out a great overview by the always excellent Dr Michael Heron (Senior Lecturer in Interaction Design in Games and Graphics at Chalmers University of Technology, Sweden) on his website Meeple Like Us.
Finding the Evidence
But are any of these games actually doing what their designers intended? Are these board games effectively communicating science? Well, away from the anecdotal there are an increasing number of studies emerging that look at how board games can affect knowledge, communication and behaviour. For instance, Fjællingsdal & Klöckner (2020) have shown how games such as Catan: Oil Springs, Evolution: Climate, Global Warming, and Keep Cool can be used to generate environmental awareness:
“Being able to visualize and experience environmental issues within the safe confines of the game is a unique way to immerse learners into the subject of environmental literacy, and might even represent a possible solution to the problem of environmental issues being perceived as non-salient.”
Catan’s availability and approachability make it a good framework for science communication. Whilst it wasn’t created as a tool for education, the Catan: Oil Springs scenario has been shown to “influence people’s awareness about sustainability issues and affect people’s behaviour regarding sustainability issues” (Chappin, Bijvoet & Oei, 2017). A later study specifically designed an additional scenario (Catan: Global Warming) and found that the game resulted in “dialogue around global warming both at and away from the table” (Illingworth & Wake, 2019).
Catan, published by Catan Studio, is one of the most popular board games ever created and involves players settling the island of Catan, trading resources such as wheat and wood to build roads, settlements and cities (image source).
Whilst it is still a burgeoning research area, it’s clear that tabletop games can and are being used as effective tools for science communication, helping to create meaningful two-way dialogues between scientists and non-scientific publics, making science “more accessible, and more informed, by the many publics that exist in our society”. No area of science seems to be off limits, from the microscopic Subatomic to the interstellar scale of Planetarium, which has players creating planets in the embryonic universe.
Survival of the Fittest
By far the most popular area of science for board games, though, is biology, and specifically evolution. In the last decade the tabletop hobby has seen simple games that take Darwin’s theory as a rough theme for a fun experience (Darwinning! andDarwin’s Choice) to the complex Dominant Species that recreates the struggle for existence between taxa as the last ice age was just starting.
Dominant Species, published by GMT Games, is one of the many board games that use the ‘survival of the fittest’ theme (image source).
Board games have also delved into the history of the scientific study of evolution. Players can retrace Darwin’s famous voyage in On The Origin of Species, discovering new species and the links between them. Those more interested in genetics can temporarily inhabit Gregor Mendel’s shoes and get into the nitty gritty of pea plant cross-breeding with the fascinating Genotype: A Mendelian Genetics Game(a game that genuinely features Punnett Squares as a central mechanism).
On the Origin of Species, published by Genius Games, has players re-enacting Darwin’s famous voyage on the HMS Beagle through the Galapagos Islands, examining the local flora and fauna and making connections between them (image source).
So let’s come back to Evolution: Climate, the precursor of which, Evolution, was purposefully designed by Russian biologist Dmitry Knorre to “demonstrate evolutionary principles to his students”. Is Evolution: Climate an effective tool for science communication? What does it actually teach us about the theory of evolution? This last point is an important question because the concept of players overseeing the game and choosing traits for species so that they’ll survive carries with it the dangerous whiff of intelligent design.
Whilst I have a Masters and a PhD in Evolutionary Biology, all those really signify is having had some luck, persistence and time in my twenties. Let us instead turn to someone far wiser than I – Stuart West, Professor of Evolution at the University of Oxford. In his review of Evolution published in Nature West said that the game “features sophisticated biology…captures key aspects of the evolutionary process and would work as a teaching aid for ages ten and up”, and could “help older students tackle specific topics, such as evolutionary arms races”. In fact, West was so enamoured with the original Evolution that he’s listed as a scientific advisor in the credits of Evolution: Climate, along with paleoclimatologist Dr Giles Young, health data scientist Dr Joanne Demmler, and artist and scientist Catherine Hamilton, who was also responsible for the gorgeous artwork of the game.
I agree with West. Quite apart from being beautiful to look at and great fun to play, Evolution: Climate does an effective job at communicating an idea about evolution that is surprisingly difficult to understand. With up to 6 players and potentially 20 species, the nuances of how different species interact and react to one another comes through as one of the strongest elements of the game. The species created and their specialised traits depend upon all the other species currently in play and the climate at the time. Individual players can set up chains of their own species that act as self-contained ecosystems, a delicate arrangement that can be utterly disrupted by the arrival of a large predator from across the table.
The original game of Evolution, published by North Star Games- much the same as Evolution: Climate but without the effect of a changing climate (image source).
What Evolution: Climate provides is less an idea of genetic inheritance and change through random mutation, and more the external forces that shape which traits persist and which die out. It’s an aspect of the subject that’s frequently misunderstood; it’s hard to comprehend the sheer number of factors that affect a species’ survival over extended periods of time. Evolution: Climate does a fantastic job of simulating this, whilst providing an entertaining and, at times, ruthlessly competitive game.
Yes, as players you get to choose the traits that appear and influence the climate within the game – the determined could latch onto the idea of divine guidance and claim intelligent design. But that trace of pseudoscience is onlythere if you’ve never played the game, never experienced the shifting environment as species appear and disappear and the climate fluctuates. After your first game of Evolution: Climate you’ll realise that evolution isn’t just about the traits that appear but how those traits cause their species to thrive in their habitat… or not. Your understanding of this aspect of evolution is fundamentally changed through the simulated microworld that the players create and influence.
I think that nicely answers the question of board games being effective science communication tools.
Original Research:
Illingworth (2020) Creative communication – using poetry and games to generate dialogue between scientists and nonscientists. https://doi.org/10.1002/1873-3468.13891
Fjællingsdal & Klöckner (2020) Green Across the Board: Board Games as Tools for Dialogue and Simplified Environmental Communication. https://doi.org/10.1177/1046878120925133
Chappin, Bijvoet & Oei (2017) Teaching sustainability to a broad audience through an entertainment game – The effect of Catan: Oil Springs. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jclepro.2017.04.069
Introvert. Doubter. Take stock, uncover impacts. Rewards of sharing.
This post was meant to be about a collection of board game haiku and the way that tabletop games can be a form of science communication (you can find that article here). Instead I got a little side-tracked taking stock of just what running The Sciku Project has given me over the years.
I launched The Sciku Project back in June 2017 and looking back there are a lot of amazingly cool things that have come about over the intervening years:
I had an article about The Sciku Project published in Science, and the site was mentioned by Sam Illingworth in Nature.
I interviewed the wonderful poet Mary Soon Lee and was sent an advanced proof of her brilliant book Elemental Haiku.
I’ve run workshops and given talks on science poetry and writing sciku.
I attended a media and communication skills residential workshop run by the Royal Society.
I was interviewed by The Wall Street Journal about The Sciku Project and sciku in general (and promptly forgot a lot of what I learned at the media and communication workshop, hence there not being a lot about The Sciku Project in the finished article – I nervously blathered about nothing especially interesting! Lesson learned.)
I was invited to be a reviewer for the science poetry journal Consilience (me, a reviewer for a poetry journal? Ridiculous!)
I’ve made videos about getting started with sciku – I promise I’ll be sharing those in the near future.
Teena Carroll and Lora Newman asked me for advice (again, me?!?) as they set up the fabulous The Math Haiku Project.
I’ve met and engaged with a whole variety of amazing folk from around the world, all excited by scientific haiku and keen to write and share their own. Of everything I’ve just listed, this is the point I am most proud of. All those lovely people have taught me so much, I am in their debt.
There are also some more subtle impacts that have resulted from running The Sciku Project.
Firstly, I’m more interested in science communication than ever before, all the varied and fascinating ways in which researchers engage with the wider world, from haiku and other forms of poetry to comedy, videos, games and other methods that aim to create two-way conversations between scientists and non-scientists (and between scientists in different disciplines). In a world of fake news and recent breaks in trust of the experts, good science communication is more important than ever before.
A second impact of starting The Sciku Project is the effect it has had on my own confidence as an individual and as a writer. I’ve always written – fiction, non-fiction and verse – but I’d never really put myself out there before. I had never tried to get any of my writing published (scientific articles aside). I’d never even posted a Tweet. I’m naturally introverted and self-doubting, a potent and frequently restrictive combination.
In part, The Sciku Project started as a deliberate way to force my hand, to make me learn new skills and gain confidence in sharing my writing. I still don’t think it’s all that good but I have more acceptance that I’m not the best judge of such things. Now I have an awareness of what is ‘good enough’ to share (that’s not to say I subject visitors to The Sciku Project to poems that are half-baked, but if I waited until I felt a poem and its write up were perfect then I’d never post another word again).
I’ve put myself ‘out there’ and ‘out there’ has rewarded me in spades with kindness, encouragement and positivity. I now regularly post content on the internet with the full awareness that someone somewhere is likely to actually read it and, hopefully, enjoy it. In fact, talk about a boost in confidence – I’m now writing an update where I’m actually talking about me.
A year after founding The Sciku Project I took what felt like another huge step and applied to be a writer for a board game media outlet – I’d always enjoyed board games and had discovered that I rather enjoyed writing about them as well. Andy Matthews and the team at Meeple Mountain took me on and in the intervening time I’ve progressed from Guest Author to Contributing Author and now I’m an Associate Editor for the site. It’s not a paid position (my work as a research developer at the University of Liverpool puts food on the table) but, just like The Sciku Project, it’s paid me back in spades.
As I said at the top, I had originally sat down to write about science communication and board games, linking the two areas where I’ve been publishing my writing online. That idea got temporarily derailed by self-reflection so instead let me wrap up this ramble by saying:
Do you enjoy writing but have always held back?
Do you have an idea but think it’s too silly to work or that you aren’t capable enough?
Do you dream of writing and sharing your writing with the world?
Stop holding back. You are capable enough. Share your writing. Share the thing you love.
The process of sharing and putting yourself out there is just as rewarding as the response you get from sharing. It’s the old journey being more important than the destination idea. And if you want to dip your toes in the water and share a sciku or simply talk about the process of starting a science communication website or sharing your work then please do get in touch: contact@thescikuproject.com
Thank you to everyone who has visited The Sciku Project, contacted me to say how much they have enjoyed it, sent in their own sciku to be published, shared sciku and their enthusiasm on social media, and in anyway has interacted with myself or the site.
Running The Sciku Project is an absolute privilege and I will be forever grateful for the impact that all of you have had on my life. Long may we continue on this journey together!
Australian science poems oft explore life death theories space horses
By Michael J. Leach and Rachel Rayner
We recently conducted a novel study to describe the demographics and characteristics of contemporary Australian science poetry. Twelve contemporary Australian poetry or science writing anthologies were used to identify science poems matching a set definition built from our research. After finding 100 contemporary Australian science poems by 73 poets, we proceeded to collect and analyse data on poem characteristics as well as poet demographics.
The specific scientific topics addressed in the 100 science poems were visualised in a word cloud – an image that uses font size to show the relative frequency with which words appear in a dataset. This sciku presents some of the standout features from our word cloud of contemporary Australian science poetry topics.
Word cloud from ‘The demographics and characteristics of contemporary Australian science poetry’ by Michael J. Leach and Rachel Rayner, published in Axon: Creative Explorations, 2020.
Other results from the study showed the state of New South Wales produced the most science poets; however, the Australian Capital Territory had more poets per capita. Finally, contrary to usual publication statistics, there were more science poems written by female-identifying poets than male or non-binary individuals.
Full details of our study can be found in a peer-reviewed research paper:
Michael J. Leach (@m_jleach) is a poet and Senior Lecturer at Monash University. Michael’s poems have appeared in the Antarctic Poetry Exhibition, the Medical Journal of Australia, GRAVITON, and elsewhere.Check out an earlier sciku of Michael’s here.
Rachel Rayner (@RaeRay4) is a science communicator at experimental PR and communications company, AndironGroup. Rachel connects with audiences through various means – whether articles, educational activities, live shows, broadcasts or poetry.
If you enjoyed Michael and Rachel’s sciku then make sure you check out their longer poems in the first issue of Consilience here!
