Are you one of those people who, when watching a popular crime drama with your friends, wonders whether any of the methods they are using are even realistic? How long does it actually take to complete a DNA test? Would even be possible to “zoom in and enhance” a photo to see the killer’s face reflected in a door handle? What about all those models made to find that one bruise that didn’t come from the victim falling down the stairs; can computers even do that? So often, science is portrayed as this technological fix that offers definite and perfect answers. With a white lab coat, some rock music, and a video montage, anything seems possible.
Having spent the past eight years surrounded by scientists, as well as the last four working as one myself, I can tell you that this is not the case. Science is not glamorous. Most of us are not fashionable. And while there might be the occasional white lab coat, it is more likely to be worn by some sleep-deprived graduate student mumbling to herself than a well-tanned supermodel boldly loading centrifuges while listening to "The Who."
So what’s the problem with this glamorized version of the research world? For the average American, "science" is something that stopped being a part of daily life around the same time as "homework" and "spring break." Now, most of the information about what is happening in the scientific world comes in snippets about new medical procedures and whether or not butter is healthier than margarine. When a natural disaster isn't striking or a new species isn't threatening to go extinct, research is relegated to its labs and libraries, coming out only when called, and many things end up lost in translation.
Unfortunately, the part of the story that often gets lost is that science takes work – and that work is done by people. Unlike the idealized scientific method that we used in our 8th grade science fairs, conducting original research is often imperfect. The thing about learning something new about life or the universe is that there isn’t an answer in the back of the book, there is no perfect approach where no assumptions need to be made. We write up our work, we do so in a way that suggests that everything progressed as smoothly and logically from the introduction to the conclusion in a purposeful and organized manner.
If only there were a part of those papers devoted to the processes and work that went into those discoveries … oh wait! There is! It’s called the methods section, and unfortunately is usually the densest, most boring, and most technically intricate part of the paper. All of the work and shifts in focus and smaller realizations that lead to a final product get distilled into a short and often confusing section that can leave even experts in the same field scratching their heads.
This blog is an attempt to jump into the work that covers the front pages of the scientific world and talk to the scientists to find the stories – technical and otherwise – that have lead to the polished pages we see being published. It is an attempt to de-mystify the assumptions and errors associated with new discoveries, help us remember what science is and isn’t capable of, and bring even more friends into the fray of pointing fingers at popular portrayals of scientists and crying out that we are neither nutty professors or glamorous superheroes. It is an attempt to remind the world that scientists are people, science is our work, and the truth of what we do can be found in The Methods Section.
I'm looking forward to your data collection stories! My data collection is less exciting, however I have some extremely nonlinear paths from introduction to conclusion via data analysis.
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