General fiction with scientists as central characters plying their trade is rare: the number is probably close to a hundred or so novels ever written (we’re keeping a list over on LabLit, if you’re curious). Unlike science fiction or crime novels, lab lit will never be common enough to earn its own section in the bookshop, but coining this phrase has proved useful for exploring the phenomenon and nucleating like-minded readers and writers. As part of a series of blogs in the run up to the publication of my novel Experimental Heart, I’d like to talk about the art of using science and scientists in fictional but realistic scenarios.
Almost there My bound page proofs shipped from America, yesterday
There are probably a number of reasons why lab lit is so uncommon. Many writers won’t be familiar with or like science, so perhaps the pool is small to begin with. Publishers might not think the science will sell, which I’ll talk about later. But the difficulty involved in balancing complex subject matter against narrative pacing must also be a key factor. Because it isn’t easy; not by a long shot. If the scientists in your story are doing their thing, and if some science impinges on the plot, at some point you as the author will have to deal with detailed information. The question for today is, how deep do you go? And the next post will deal more with the strategies of how you achieve it once you’ve decided.
Some authors might be interested in using fiction as a science communication tool to teach science facts and figures. In this case, transmitting the necessary information accurately will be a very important goal. Others, like Carl Djerassi, author of the classic lab lit novel Cantor’s Dilemma, has used fiction primarily to educate people, as he puts it, about “the tribal culture of scientists, rather than dwelling on the science they do.” My friend Ann Lackie, author of several lab lit novels and founder of SciTalk, is even more relaxed: she favors ‘subtle science’, where you’re using characters who happen to be scientists, and using the rich backdrop of science to enliven a story that could be about something else altogether. I fall somewhere in the middle: I want to show people what being a scientist is like, but I’d like them to be actually doing science on camera. Nevertheless, I don’t feel that the readers have to completely understand this science, and the main point for me is entertainment and atmosphere, not education. The story has to be a real human story, one that anyone can get drawn into – because a novel is ultimately about people, not facts and details.
A friend of mine, a prominent scientist in his early eighties, recently finished reading my second novel and was terribly worried about the level of scientific detail I employed, fearing that non-scientific readers would be completely lost. But I wasn’t too concerned: I’ve done the experiment. In revising my fiction, I rely on an army of volunteer readers to help assess and tweak the inevitable imbalances: non-scientists who flag up every paragraph that leaves them uncomfortable or derailed, and scientists who warn me when I’ve dumbed down a concept right out of existence. The manuscript in question was perused by about 45 non-scientists, all of whom now say they are comfortable.
Interestingly, non-scientists are not as concerned as you might expect about “understanding” the science. For them, the experience of hearing about science – including the lingo – is part of the atmosphere, and is absolutely fine as long as they can follow the human story. Think of Scotty on the original Star Trek, babbling on about “plasma reflux in the warp core interfering with the delta configuration of the dilithium crystals”: we never needed to know what that meant: all we needed to know was that the ship was in danger and that Kirk had only ten hours to fix it. It is part of the setting, the scene, the milieu. Provided it’s made clear that this detailed content is not required for understanding the characters’ motivations and actions, it’s actually irrelevant whether they get it completely.
Of those 45 non-scientist readers, about three quarters said they just went with the flow and didn’t worry about things it was clear they didn’t need to know, and about one quarter were inspired to look up stuff when they wanted to know more – novel readers tend to be curious by nature, and enjoy mysteries that they can solve offline. I respond exactly the same way when I read novels with lots of non-science technical details – for example, novels set on the high seas rife with sailing jargon. I don’t really want to know more about the details, but I appreciate their being there, adding color and verisimilitude.
Interestingly, in the pool of about 40 scientist readers, most were concerned that the science was too much, and that the poor lay reader would be demanding more explanation. I think this is interesting and shows that it’s almost impossible for a scientist, including myself as the author, to judge how a non-scientist will react to science presented in fiction. Road-testing then becomes really important.
In recent years the craft of “science in fiction” has become a lot more sophisticated, veering away from the old-fashioned strategy of using dear old Auntie Jane from Tunbridge Wells to dump information on readers. Modern readers see right through these strategies and resent the idea that the book is trying to educate them; devoting more chapters to teaching is not what my readers say they want. What they say they want is permission to navigate through a scientific scene while receiving the appropriate cues to let them know when letting things sliding over their head is perfectly acceptable.
bq. Think of Scotty on the original Star Trek
That’s a bloody good point. ponder
In fact, that’s a darned interesting experiment there, Dr Rohn, with surprisingly encouraging conclusions.
The earlier drafts were a disaster – it truly was an iterative process. I had to slough a lot of detail: a little jargon is good, but a lot can make a mind shut down.
Road-testing then becomes really important.
A lovely analogy. I might steal it Jenny. And I agree that I would be in the “maybe the science is too much” down playing league. It’s good to know that I am wrong and can try and look at it like “Scotty”.
that was a excellent one too. thanks!
bq. a little jargon is good, but a lot can make a mind shut down.
just like seminars, in fact.
I think the trick is to know when to use jargon, and when to talk about science (and how) in non-jargony ways. Scotty used jargon to gloss over plot holes/narrative imperatives. The rest of the crew got on with it. We knew what phasers and photon torpedoes and transporters were, what they did; we didn’t need to know how they actually worked. I suspect it’s the same with ‘lablit’: I seem to remember the Raison’s (for example) MO was ‘explained’ in the same sort of way. It was an appropriate use of jargon—the reader doesn’t need to know exactly how it works, especially when the author has made it up anyway 😉
Yes: the apparatus in my second novel is a good example: I made the barest sketch of what it was designed to measure and how, and lay readers were happy. My octogenarian reader, on the other hand, thought I needed an entire chapter devoted to explaining what proteins are, and protein-protein interactions, and why scientist study them — which would have made even me, as a naive scientist reader, run a mile. (I always hated those interminably long passages in hard SF novels when the spaceships were described in excruciating detail. What was his name…Larry Niven. Way too much information for me, though I know some of a certain temperament enjoy it.)
But yeah. We need to know what transporters and phasers do – just not how.
What I miss in various forms of fiction is the character of someone who just happens to be a scientist, but that fact is totally irrelevant to the story and they could have had any other profession. It seems that whenever someone says “pick a random job for this character, it doesn’t matter what it is” they will never pick “scientist”. Being a scientist in fiction always means that you have to set it as a lab, or that the character in question is somehow in a position of either saving or destroying the world, or a huge nerd. Or all of the above.
I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’ve
watched way too much TVdone some research, and the only character I could ever come up with who just “happens to be a scientist” is Ross on Friends.I blogged about this a long time ago and tried to revisit the topic recently, but I still haven’t found any other ones, so I didn’t.
Ross was a huge disappointment on Friends! Why did the scientist have to be the dorky, needy, whiny one with questionable social skills and all those failed relationships?
Bah humbug.
bq. Why did the scientist have to be the dorky, needy, whiny one with questionable social skills and all those failed relationships?
Umm…
Your discussion makes a very good point – the goal that the author is trying to achieve in many ways dictates the fictional approach they take. If the point is to show that scientists are human and to give some idea of what they really do in the lab, atmosphere with a little knowledge mixed in is a good way to go about it. In the end it may matter to the plot that a miracle protein is discovered, but whether the whole process is scientifically perfect from beginning to end really isn’t the point.
On the other hand, if the goal is to address a specific scientific topic via fiction I’d think the approach would be different. There would be a need for a bit more exactitude (while keeping up the human elements and entertainment value). If, as a scientist, one were writing a novel about the extreme danger of organic foods due to natural manure-born pathogens, you’d want to be able to defend that position. The scientific language used, even when vague, would need to not be misleading.
Either approach is a good thing, with some tough writing challenges if the author wants to reach a public whose image of science tends to be rather distorted. Avoiding too much “showing” or preaching would be a constant struggle. Sounds like you pushed your story through a very tight filter to achieve the right balance. Excellent – and congratulations for reaching the point where you’re not spending long nights searching for just the right word or literary device.
But Jenny, I don’t have a kindly old aunt Jane who lives at Tunbridge Wells. I do go there from time to time to visit my ailing friend Mr Bunbury, but that’s different.
I’m sure, in another era, Mr Bunbury would have been delighted to quiz his scientist nephew about what exactly it is that he does in that scary-looking lab, because oh my, isn’t he ignorant and in need of enlightenment?
I should stress that it is very difficult to write lab lit without some form of this device. In ‘Experimental Heart’, there is an undergraduate student who needs a bit of help — but the idea is that you work in the information exchange as part of a natural, lively conversation and try not to bludgeon the reader with a conspicuous infodump. In combination with other devices and strategies – which I’ll talk more about next time – it can still work well. It’s interesting also to use other scientists for this purpose, while avoiding the dreaded ‘informative dialogue’ trap (CSI is really bad at this).
Asa, it sounds as if you are in Ann Lackie’s ‘subtle science’ camp. There are some books on the List that are pretty fluffy, such as Prodigal Summer. One could argue that the protag’s profession isn’t that relevant, except that it has to be one where she’s outdoors.
‘fluffy’ and ‘Åsa’ in close proximity.
Hmm.
Jenny – I agree about the Scotty effect (Dr Who is also famous for various meaningless technical catch phrases). I think this raises a serious issue for those who want to make the distinction between fiction with ‘real science’ in it and science fiction. As long as the fake science isn’t too outrageous does it really matter whether or not it’s made up?
Oi, you. Behave.
p.s.
Why did the scientist have to be the dorky, needy, whiny one with questionable social skills and all those failed relationships?
Umm…
Speak for yourself, honey.
I wouldn’t dare to presume to speak for anyone else.
PS. This is behaved. You should see me when I’m naughty.
Brian, I think that is problem the only time when the genre classification ‘science fiction’ is in anyway meaningful.
piss: s/problem/probably/;
Still confused…
I think this raises a serious issue for those who want to make the distinction between fiction with ‘real science’ in it and science fiction. As long as the fake science isn’t too outrageous does it really matter whether or not it’s made up?
The short answer is ‘yes’.
The long answer is found in my by book The Science of Middle-earth in my dissection of Tolkien’s unpublished story The Notion Club Papers in which the characters (thinly disguised portraits of Tolkien, C. S. Lewis and their chums) discuss this very point – if you don’t know how to get someobne instantly from one planet to another, to invent some scientific-sounding gobbledegook is not only dishonest, but gets in the way of the story.
I think this raises a serious issue for those who want to make the distinction between fiction with ‘real science’ in it and science fiction. As long as the fake science isn’t too outrageous does it really matter whether or not it’s made up?
Hey, it’s called ‘fiction’ for a reason. The author can do whatever he/she wants, and is under no obligation to conform to reality. This goes for everything — think about novels that purport to be ‘real histories’ (e.g. Peter Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang is anything but: the author winks at the reader and we all should know it’s heavily fictionalized, though I’m sure some readers were caught out).
Science isn’t some sacred body of knowledge that can’t be fictionalized. In my novel, I’ve invented an entire signal transduction pathway. It does conform to the laws of physics and biology, but it’s utter fantasy. Having said that, I like to be as accurate as possible, but I don’t hold other authors to that.
It gets interesting when the fiction can impact on public opinion – I’m thinking of Michael Crichton’s Climate of Fear. It’s fiction, and climate experts say there is inaccurate stuff in there. But ultimately this is a novel: the author had an agenda and his M.O. was to tweak reality to serve his purpose. Anyone gullible enough to believe that science in novels is gospel truth probably deserves to be hoodwinked. So I’m not outraged at all about that book, unlike many. Fair enough, I say.
There might be a distinction to be made between made-up science that is plausible in that it violates no physical or chemical laws, such as invented signal-transduction pathways — and those that are conjured out of the air simply to satisfy the narrative, and verisimilitude go hang (antigravity, hyperspatial drives). I have no problem with either, really, provided that they are conveyed so well that the reader isn’t pulled up sharp and the ‘suspension of disbelief’ is compromised.
Agreed, Henry. It’s all in how it’s worked in to the narrative. I should note, however, that when I’m considering books for inclusion on the LabLit list, I would automatically discount anything supernatural or mystic. I don’t mind if authors deviate from, as Djerassi puts it, anything that could or does exist but I’m not going to call it lab lit in that case. Lab lit is fairly realistic, conforming generally to scientific laws.
I hate it when they go into detail…and then get it wrong.
Most recent thing I came accross: The lake house: James Patterson.
It contains genetically engineered people with wings that can fly. They did that by mixing bird and human genetic material. That’s of course already totally a silly concept, but anyhoo, you are willing to accept that for the sake of enjoying a book, but then you stumble on something you can’t forgive.
The winged children forged a strong bond with the people that resqued them, similar to the ducklings forming a ubbreakable bond with the first thing they see.
The problem was of course that our winged children were already quite old and had seen other people.
That’s just something that annoys me. To take a valid scientific concept and then not place it properly in a narrative context.
I was willing to accept the idea of mixing bird and human DNA because in principle you will get a chimera. But it won’t be something pretty or functional. It will probably won’t live/develop very long.
But the essence of the bonding concept is that it occurs with the first thing that is seen, not the first thing that saves you from evil.
What I did like in the book is that most of the scientific details are skipped. That’s good, because in 10 years time they will be wrong.
I was willing to accept the idea of mixing bird and human DNA because in principle you will get a chimera. But it won’t be something pretty or functional.
But then again, it might. In the world of fiction, all things can be possible if presented in a way that the reader can suspend disbelief.
But yeah – crap science like getting the Lorenz thing wrong can be quite annoying.
I love books though where they take general scientific principles or ideas and build a book around them.
Last fine specimen was “Black Man” by Richard Morgan. It also features genetically modified people, but in no way is ever the ‘protocol’ mentioned. And this concept of future engineering is mixed with ideas on the nature of recent human evolution, where certain character types had a selective advantage.
One type of genetically modified humans, called variant 13, are basically a throwback to old times, and the book deals with the interactions between old and new human subtype on a social and ideological level, nature vs nurture, racism and other broad concepts.
That’s good stuff.
I was going to do a reply but it got out of hand and now has a life of its own, over on my blog
Nice post, Brian: everyone go look.
Just to remind everyone on this thread, when I talk about science in fiction here, I’m talking about general/literary/non-speculative/non-SF fiction, where it’s a lot more conspiuous if you go off piste. Science as a normal profession. I do also enjoy SF – am reading Neal Stephenson’s latest, Anathem, and it’s a 2 kilo cracker.
I believe the problem when you talk about fiction that tries to present a real scientific case with social implications, such as Michael Crichton’s Climate of Fear (or in my own area, films like The China Syndrome that depict technology) is than not only are people hoodwinked by them — but some of these people then act on those beliefs via the democratic process – in how they vote, who they believe, etc. An interesting example is President Bush’s interest in Mr. Crichton’s work – they visited at the White House. (A sad example with some flaws, I admit, but it fits in one sentence.) Such books also provide a great shorthand for expressing unrealistic fears – Jurassic Park for cloning, or the popular genetic food expression “Frankenfood”.
The other LabLit approach, of producing entertaining books that portray (reasonably) real science and technology without dealing with touchy issues, certainly can help give the public a little better grounding in the science process. That’s got to help. So go Jenny go.
Point taken, Jenny – I appreciate you weren’t originally talking SF (though Scotty muddies the waters), however I think it’s almost a wisdom of Solomon job dividing the two. A lot of serious SF isn’t about space/future/hi-tech, and a fair amount of lab lit will get labelled SF for convenience.
I must admit, the word ‘literary’ frightens me! I like Bradbury (okay, mostly fantasy), who is often labelled as being literary not because he’s ‘literary’ but because he wrote good stories. (Funnily enough, I think his best known actual SF book, Farenheit 451 is one of the worst things he wrote, though not as bad as that truly awful film.)
Since nobody mentioned it: I always rather liked the conversations between Scully and Moulder on the X-files, too 🙂
Jenny: in your book, what makes it clear to the non-scientist reader that you are portraying ‘real science’, and not SF? Is there an explanation of the term ‘lablit’ on the cover? And is there any way we can get an example?
Marc: I was willing to accept the idea of mixing bird and human DNA because in principle you will get a chimera. But it won’t be something pretty or functional. Interesting statement! Reminds me of a very good biology teacher, who explained to us (wildly gesticulating) why angels could not exist (breastbone not big enough for flight muscles to attach in a human). I remember it vividly – oh, for brilliant, ironic and thorough teachers.
Going back a few comments:
“the idea is that you work in the information exchange as part of a natural, lively conversation and try not to bludgeon the reader with a conspicuous infodump”
I recently finished reading an awful book (not lab-lit as such) that did not get this concept AT ALL. Almost every chapter was one big infodump with the characters talking as if they were writing an essay. I usually post my book reviews at my other blog (see also Next by Michael Crichton, a true trainwreck) but I might cross-post my upcoming review at NN in light of this discussion.
This post and comment thread has raised an issue that’s come up a couple of times in Fiction Lab: how does the accuracy of the science affect the reader’s perception?
And to my mind, the answer depends on the knowledge of the reader. We’ve done a couple of physics-based books (_The Sun and Moon Corrupted_ and As She Climbed Across the Table) where I, with my physics degree, got tripped up by what I felt were ‘holes’ in the science. This spoiled my enjoyment of both books but there were others in the group, with less of a physics background, who loved them.
Similarly when we did books that were more outside my field of expertise (e.g. Kehlman’s Measuring the World – a story of Humboldt and Gauss), I was more relaxed about the science and enjoyed the book more.
So I wonder if scientists are actually the best kind of audience for lablit? Too must technical knowledge might give you an ‘advantage’ over the author that mars your enjoyment of the book. I’m sure it can be done well – I enjoyed Mendel’s Dwarf (plenty of mol biol – something I know about). And I’m confident that Experimental Heart will be similarly successful. But on the whole, I think that the less you know about science, the more you might enjoy lablit.
BTW – I loved Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang – brilliant stuff!
@James
I believe the problem when you talk about fiction that tries to present a real scientific case with social implications… is than not only are people hoodwinked by them — but some of these people then act on those beliefs via the democratic process – in how they vote, who they believe, etc.
Not the novelist’s problem! An artist cannot be hemmed in by how readers might react to fictionalized information – otherwise you might as well endorse censorship.
@Brian
however I think it’s almost a wisdom of Solomon job dividing the two.
No, it’s actually quite straightforward. Lab lit is about scientists. Much of the entire SF corpus is not about scientists. And those that do have scientist characters clearly bear other hallmarks of the SF genre: being set in future, or in other speculative timelines or on other planets. Lab lit is general fiction (the word ‘literary fiction’ is just American for ‘general, not genre fiction’ – it’s not a term that implies enhanced quality as some Brits seem to interpret it) about the scientific profession, much as you might have a relatively realistic novel about an artist or a writer or an accountant. There is a clear difference.
@Steffi
Jenny: in your book, what makes it clear to the non-scientist reader that you are portraying ‘real science’, and not SF?
Again, the book is clearly not SF – anyone reading the back cover will see it’s not speculative fiction, just a story set in the real world. (It still amazes me that people assume that any story with scientists in it has to be SF! That just goes to show how rare lab lit is and how unused we are to seeing scientist characters in general fiction.)
Is there an explanation of the term ‘lablit’ on the cover?
Should there be? It’s just a novel with scientists in it. Can’t this be taken at face value? There are no parental advisories on the novels of Patrick O’Brian advising us that there are sailor characters. The whole point is that this is a normal profession, and we can read novels about it as we can about any other profession without confusing it with something entirely different (like SF) or otherwise making providing an apologia.
And is there any way we can get an example?
My publisher is going to be providing a scene free of charge – I can let you know when that goes live. But I’ll probably use a few examples from the book in my next post about strategies.
@Stephen
So I wonder if scientists are actually the best kind of audience for lablit? Too must technical knowledge might give you an ‘advantage’ over the author that mars your enjoyment of the book.
This is an important point. You are perfectly correct that reading bad science can make a scientist crabby. But what about when the novelist is a scientist and presents the science accurately? My goal – and again this is going to become clearer in my next post – is to provide a story that works on both levels, the specialist level and the lay level. As long as I get the science right, the scientists should be satisfied – and they might even get a kick out of it. But I would imagine that the demographic of novel readers is going to be largely non-scientists, so they need to be considered too.
As I say, it’s a balancing act.
The problem is common to any novel that has characters in any technical trade. Lawyers, medics, soldiers… you should have heard the screaming about—hell, what was that medical series on TV? The one that turned into Holby City?— that programme, anyway, from my nurse friends.
(yah, I know it was TV and not a novel, but same idea.)
Casualty. Yes, exactly. Works of fiction imagined by people not in that profession (which, let’s face it, will be the majority) are always in danger of getting facts wrong. In this day and age, though, with so much information on the web, as well as ease of contact (writers can more easily contact professionals via email with any questions), I think it’s a shame when writers don’t do their research.
The lab lit novel ‘Intuition’ is an excellent example of how research can result in a portrayal so accurate that it’s almost uncanny.
Has anyone read Bloodletting ? (I own it, but haven’t had time to read it yet.) It’s written by a physician, and it’s about med school and medicine, and it won prizes (from non-medicine people!)
Maybe medicine is more attractive to the public than lab science, but at least it’s nice to see something accurate get attention. (I am jumping to the conclusion that an MD can write accurately about medicine. I haven’t read it yet, as I said, but I won’t be able to tell if he is 100% accurate anyway, because i have no experience with med school. I haven’t heard any complaints from actual doctors about the book, and it got quite a bit of attention in the media a few years ago, so I guess it really does portray everything properly.)
Jenny, I think we’ll just have to agree to disagree on a point that doesn’t have anything to do with your novel anyway. I like to think a novelist passing themselves off as an science expert on a particular issue of public concern and writing about that issue has some obligation to be accurate and not misleading in the broad sense. It can potentially affect the rest of us. But that’s not what your book is trying to do.
I think I’ve got an appreciation of how hard it is to make science and technology entertaining (without too many explosions), and the fact that you’ve managed to write something like that is a real feather in your cap. In many ways I view the task as harder than writing a “simple” love story, because the background has more meaning and is also foreign to the typical reader. Success should therefore be even sweeter – and hopefully more lucrative.
Eva – I enjoy decent med lit. Ian McEwan’s ‘Saturday’ was great in that respect. I also enjoy TV hospital dramas — a little guilty pleasure of mine. Let me know how you get on with ‘Bloodletting’.
Thanks, James; I doubt this exercise will be lucrative, but that’s not why I’m doing it. Yes, we’ll have to disagree on this point — I still firmly believe that fiction has a right to be fictional, and that any president basing policy on a novel is a dunce. (Yes, we all know he is anyway, so that’s an easy target!) How would you deal with this problem, though? Would you endorse censorship? Put all novels with science it through some sort of peer review? Seriously, I’d like to know how you’d control it. Might get a bit sticky in those grey areas between fact and fiction (like my fantasy signal transduction pathway). Where do you draw the line? How do you decide when artist’s opinion is “wrong” enough not allow him to express it in his chosen medium?
Cath> Don’t remind me about Next. Not a good book.
Jenny> The thing with the “Climate book… was that it wasn’t totally clear that the writer added a few of his own opinoin. Then again, maybe that is a given for people to understand when they read a “novel” rather than a “research report”. However, I felt like it was setting people up for deception with all the footnotes and references to ‘real’ science. then again, after half the book the story took that really inprobably turn so then I was fine with it. “Must be interpreted as fiction” was my comment.
To back up to “Asa, it sounds as if you are in Ann Lackie’s ‘subtle science’ camp. There are some books on the List that are pretty fluffy, such as Prodigal Summer. One could argue that the protag’s profession isn’t that relevant, except that it has to be one where she’s outdoors.” Yes, that might be it. Although I like descriptions of science, what I meant was that I wold find it hard to decide when it is too much or too little. Or rather, too detailed.
I look forward reading your book even more now 🙂
Richard> hmmm… I wouldn’t go there mate 😉
bq. Casualty
Yes, it came to me as I stood at Burwood Station.
Fiction is fiction. Unfortunately there are a lot of people who, when faced with a statement of fact in an obvious work of fiction, do not appear to think to themselves “Is this true?”. But that is no reason to censor art.
Åsa, all I was saying is that I never, ever, thought of you as ‘fluffy’.
Oh, sure, ask difficult questions and make me think! I can’t see that there’s anything you can do to “control” the issue it when it comes to fiction. That would be awful – you’re right about that. Censorship is something I rather detest.
What can be done is the science community taking greater steps to promote and embrace entertaining and realistic depictions, either atmospheric or issue-related – which is exactly what you’ve been doing with Lab Lit. Beyond that, it’s more of a societal issue – trying via gentle nudges to make it less acceptable to embrace truly junk science as anything more than entertainment on the order of Superman comics.
So….. solutions. Your Lab Lit effort is the biggest one I can point to that isn’t governmental. It’s an attempt to break out of the cloistered shell that scientists and academics can find themselves in, and reach out to the public – who don’t read any science journals and very little non-fiction, but do vote.
Perhaps if every reputable scientist would comment at one or two websites with poor information, or call in to a few news shows, or complain directly to the media about poor reporting, that would be a good thing. Make it truly bad form to be grossly inaccurate in the public sphere when it comes to science and technology. I think it affects us all. But it’s a long road. (I had another paragraph written on the US education system and disdain for science, but lets skip it.)
And I don’t want to take anything away from the work you put in on The Experimental Heart. That’s the topic your blog was about, after all. (Cue applause).
“Censorship is necessary, because there’s always the danger of something being said.” – Pat Paulson. (One of my favorite quotes.)
I’m not up on the latest, but I don’t think Crichton came very well out of it in the end. Even Bush had to admit that humans seem to be causing climate change. As with any false propaganda, its author will probably end up being hoisted on his own petard.
As I recall, a lot of scientists came out and wrote criticisms after the novel was published. The fact that he was called into Congress to testify actually made me laugh. If you wrote that in a novel nobody would believe you.
I’m more concerned about false propaganda in non-fiction, as with ‘The Great Climate Change Swindle’.
Jenny (wow, difficult to catch up on these conversations sometimes when you don’t have time during the day!!) – I am really looking forward to your posts with examples. I was basically wondering out loud how your style of lablit might be received by a general audience. I guess we’ll find out!
Generally: most (Americans at least) have probably heard how, especially for young people, the ‘Daily Show’ in the US has become the primary source for political news? Even though that’s clearly comedy, and you’d hope people understand it that way – could this happen with ‘bad science novels’? I guess the only way to counteract is to educate? I do agree with James, who I think is basically just asking for the novelist to be ‘cautious’ and as accurate as possible (do their research, as Jenny says), especially when they portray a topic they are not experts in.
‘with’, Jenny. ‘On’ makes no sense at all.
I actually looked up the original Shakespeare before quoting it but then promptly forgot after I poured myself a cup of coffee. How reassuring to know that none of my errors can go unnoticed.
I guess my hope, Steffi, is that people would view fiction the same way as they would comedy; i.e., not a reliable source of information. Because an author might choose to deliberately tweak reality in the name of art, and I cannot see this as wrong. (Asa, the use of footnotes that appear accurate is an old and well-established trick of fiction that is being dressed as fact, and as such is fair game, I think.) Fiction is the invention of a new world. Anyone who reads fiction and assumes it’s truth is going to have a lot of problems in this world, and misunderstanding the novel will be the least of them.
I think that’s more or less what I said.
I do agree with James, who I think is basically just asking for the novelist to be ‘cautious’ and as accurate as possible (do their research, as Jenny says), especially when they portray a topic they are not experts in.
But it’s different with our Crichton example. He wasn’t making a sloppy error. He was calculatingly producing a work that reinforced and disseminated his opinion on a scientific matter (which, misguided or not, he is entitled to have. There are some schools of thought that he was producing a devil’s advocacy just to counteract propaganda on the other side – this was some time ago when things were less clear). In that respect it was a subversive piece of art. I don’t agree with his message, but I find the act intriguing.
I think Steffi summed up my concern pretty well. (Which, again, has nothng to do with The Experimental Heart.) An author needs to recognize that words comng from an expert can have an impact, even in a fictional setting – particularly if that setting is marketed as being fairly accurate. It’s probably not going to have a positive effect on society if a novel by a biologist reads like a real world account and is presented that way, but then shows that use of the lab to casually and sloppily make death germs is an everyday occurence. It might make the book a better read, but…. Non-expert authors do this much more often, and I also wish they’d give just a little more thought to it as well.
Also, when bad fiction on science is out there and being taken seriously, it needs to be counteracted. (Crichton was an example of where it did get a response.) Next time you see a bad science TV show or movie, check out the blogs. You may find a lot of people took it seriously, and a gentle factual correction by a real world scientist would be a nice thing. Or when you read a complimentary book review of a bad science novel, drop a cheerful note to the reviewer.
On the other hand, I find such “calls to action” as I have just made above to be a little silly, so I’ll just go back to leaning against the front door, waiting for my copy of your book to arrive.
And I said “The Experimental Heart” instead of Experimental Heart more than once. That is bad form. My apologies.
No worries, James.
Yes, I think the best we can do as scientists is to correct perceived errors whether deliberate or accidental. But we can’t stop the errors from being disseminated in the first place (except in particular realms, like advertising, where there are laws to stop it). And we can’t stop novelists from writing whatever it is they wish to write — or stop gullible people from believing things emanating from dubious sources.
As P.T. Barnum once said….
Agreed. My dream is that the little editor voice inside today’s producers of entertaiment, scientist or otherwise, will occasionally remind them there can be a real world impact if their story is not presented correctly, and then their conscience will guide them in a positive direction. One should always listen to the voices in one’s head…..
I’m finding your discussion very good (and hopefully can better resist commentary that drifts away from it). Been there, done that, and its interesting to read how someone else dealt with including real science and technology in a novel. It’s not something typically addressed by the “how to” writing books & blogs.
@Jenny
the use of footnotes that appear accurate is an old and well-established trick of fiction that is being dressed as fact, and as such is fair game, I think
yeah, I guess it all comes down to my own “I think that the ‘non scienceitsts’ will get tricked because it looks like Real science”. I need more faith in man, me thinks.
I agree that it was an interesting way of pointing your own idea and agenda. I just always feel a little scared when others (politicians) continue to spin on it.
James, you’re new to this blog or you’d realize that it’s quite ok to drift off topic! This one is more on-message than most, in fact.
It’s interesting — I’ve heard some insider talk from some of the people involved in that film I mentioned earlier, ‘The Great Climate Change Swindle’. The TV people were perfectly aware that it was unbalanced and would make a huge controversy, apparently, and they went ahead with it precisely because of this. It was probably the same with Crichton’s publisher; they probably were counting on a big furore that would help boost sales, even if it was a negative furore. So I don’t think you can count on editors to regulate at this level! It’s going against their capitalistic instincts. It’s a related thing with all the hyped science news stories – hyped inaccurate headlines help sell papers. As long as that incentive is in the system, it’s hard to fight.
I agree, Jenny, I shouldn’t count on much from folks trying to make a living producing entertainment. More a longing for good behavior than a rational expectation…… Interesting what the TV folks told you. It also seems obvious that the excessive dumbing down of science in fiction is done with the idea of increasing sales to the blank-staring masses – something your own science reviewers seemed to instinctively aim towards as well. Interesting.
(I also believe there’s a built-in bias in the fiction world against any science, given the preponderance of fine arts people involved who have no interest in it – with their assumption that no one else has any interest either. In the last couple of years since my essay on Lab Lit I’ve corresponded with a couple of industry folks who don’t think that’s a far-fetched or paranoid viewpoint. )
Of course, I’m not trying to make a living in the publishing biz. If it was my sole means of putting bread on the table, maybe I too would have gone the route of a grossly inaccurate, hyper-provocative tale myself, instead of the Nobel-worthy tome I did produce. (Still waiting for them to call….) As it is, I do my part to raise the standard by not consuming the worst of the current output. I’m sure the entertainment titans have noticed.
I was just thinking of another famous example when fiction was dressed as reality and there was a massive effect: the radio broadcast of War of the Worlds. Do people think that this was wrong? After all, you could imagine Dear old Auntie Jane from Tunbridge wells having a heart attack.
I think that was brilliant. Good example Jenny, I’d completely forgotten about that story.
Great example. A quick search of the ol’ reliable internet shows Welles was accused of causing a lot of deaths and serious injuries by the newspapers (who liked taking digs at radio) but most of the claims, if not all, turned out not to be true. Welles got off pretty easy on that score. While there were some disclaimers during the program, it was built to confuse, at least temporarily. I know it scared me when I first heard it in a classroom at age 12. (I was not the bravest of lads.) Should Welles have done it? Hard to say. The medium was new, his audience was small, and it seems even Welles was surprised at the large reaction. At least it was quickly cleared up and didn’t linger as “truth” in the public mind for years.
Public health officials have a lot of concern about false alarms when it comes to things that make people run for the hills. As a real world example, in the US nuclear biz, it’s a rather accepted premise that a fearful evacuation taken as a precautionary measure (which is essentially required by law in some cases) will likely cause more injuries that the problem they are running from. But the public demands such plans based on their perception of the danger. (Which isn’t entirely a bad thing – see Chernobyl.) And some of this perception is due to popullar entertainment. So, as your example notes, entertainment can have consequences. But where the line is that shouldn’t be crossed is very unclear, and having any kind of outside authority decide would be awful. So we must make the best of it – whatever that means.
I once fell asleep halfway through a replay of the original WOTW on the radio. I woke up towards the end to scenes of mass panic, and in my half-asleep state I was terrified – despite knowing exactly what was going on! I’m sure it was terrifying to live through, but incredibly valuable now as an example of the need to query all information you receive through the media.
Not to mention that it was awesomely cool.
I like the idea of fiction having awesome powers of creating real-life consequences.
Happened to stumble across this recent link that mentions a speculative SF film being used as an example when discussing a scientific issue. Not exactly the same thing, but it shows how fiction creeps into the factual world (and will some day destroy us all). Nature Blog
Thank you for that cheery message, James. Personally, I prefer my real life to have a happy ending.
James, that’s one of the reasons I loved Kim Stanley Robinson’s latest trilogy. It took the politics of climate change, rolled up its sleeves and asked, what would happen if a massive meteorological event devastated the Capitol – how would politicians and voters respond? I don’t know if any real-life politicians noticed this series, but I assume a number of voters did.
What happened? Did we all die?
Excellent example. I hope some pols and media types noticed it (somebody is since KSR is quite a successful author) – but I’m not overly hopeful at the moment. Of course, we’re finishing up an election right now, so my skepticism is driven by that. Hopefully in a few months the country will be ready for a deeper discussion then than the mantra “Clean, renewable energy” that every candidate chants.
Well, it has come a long way since nobody believed it was happening. Five years ago it wasn’t even on the table. I think KSR timed his books really well.
Good point. Still, we do have a substantial percentage on this side of the pond that thinks its all hogwash, and an even bigger percentage that finds any attempt to inconvenience them or raise the price on any behavior to be an anti-American conspiracy. The next few years will prove very interesting – but they always are. Things may be moving in the right direction though (assuming I have a clue what direction that is).
On the other hand, most companies have embraced the whole green thing as an excellent way to market themselves.