bq. A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has. — Margaret Mead
Having, in the last three days, edited a manuscript when I should have only been checking for tyops sic, Henry, sic, and similarly for an interminable chapter 4 of a PhD thesis, I have come to the following conclusion:
There is something rotten in the state of Denmark.
What?
Sorry, wrong parallel universe. Let’s try that one again:
‘Scientific’ writing is doomed unless we start with the students.
Maxine Clarke recently pointed out that Nature journal editors encourage authors to use ‘direct, plain prose’. Linda Cooper has written some very good articles, sadly not updated since the middle of last year. There are guidelines in the Author Services section of NPG and an excellent editorial in Nature Physics.
But still, on Monday, I banged my head against the desk in an exquisite mélange of grief and hilarity, at the following:
Triple resonance experiments give rise to three-dimensional datasets that contain three frequency dimensions;
The problem is not with teaching post-docs and PIs how to write. The problem is that students are never taught how to write directly and clearly. Indeed, we encourage them to write stilted, impenetrable prose in the third person and passive voice, because that is considered scientific.
And it’s pants.
A friend pointed out to me yesterday, after I had raved somewhat immoderately about this, that I was in a privileged position. As (through hard graft and a little bit of natural talent) I am able to write, it is my duty and responsibility to assist those who have difficulty. She’s right, of course; but it is a huge task.
By the time you get to reading editorials in learned journals, it’s far too late. One post-doc can do a little bit in his own lab, under the authority of a sympathetic PI of course, but really, this needs to start at undergraduate level, and continue throughout a scientist’s training. Ultimately, we are in the business of communication.
I’m cheering you all the way, Richard. In 1996 I taught a graduate seminar course at UCLA on science publication. I encouraged all students to take advantage of the liberal-arts tradition of US universities and audit English Literature classes, to get a feel for good writing by people who knew how to write. Some of my students were teaching assistants and one told me privately that she did her best to encourage undergraduates to do just that – but they didn’t ‘get’ it, thinking that their top priority was learning to use the equipment. My point is that writing is the last bastion of accessibility, but any fool can be taught how to press the right buttons. Ultimately, education is wasted on the young.
Blimey Henry, that was quick.
It needs more than ‘encouragement’. It needs mandatory communication classes.
I think you’re right. And as the temperature of publication increases, it will happen. Natural selection at work, you see: when I go out on the stump as a Nature editor, I make the pressure-cooker environment of the Nature office abundantly clear, and tell them that good, clear writing matters hugely. Each year some 700 manuscripts pass across my desk, of which I have space to publish only 35-40. Many of the papers I reject are good. Very good, in fact. But even allowing for the problems of non-anglophone authors, I will look for any excuse to reject papers. Now, I do not explicitly reject papers because they are written poorly, but there is such a thing as making the life of a hard-working and busy editor easier. You get the picture.
Hmm. I’m wondering how to wrap that up and present it to the Faculty.
I see a dilemma: we want to encourage good scientific writing, but at the same time a paper should not be rejected because someone has done good science but bad writing. This is especially true if English is not the first language. See also the discussion Quality of scientific writing considered in peer review? in the Nature Ask the Editor forum. Teaching scientific writing as early as possible, as you suggest, is probably one of the best solutions to this dilemma. I definitely did not have any of this training when I was a student.
Actually Martin, I seem to remember that the best papers in English are written by those who don’t have English as their first language.
I guess that’s because they don’t pick up all these bad habits?
I can confirm that. The best prose stylists I know – the people whose papers I love to read simnply because of the way they are written – learned English as a foreign language. But these people don’t turn up very often. The very worst papers I read comes from anglophones who think they can write much more clearly than they actually do. Sadly, the teaching of English grammar in schools, at least in England, has long since been abandoned, by the misguided Islingtonite social relativists who run things here, as ‘elitist’. And now we’re paying the price.
I didn’t have any training or mentoring in writing when I was a student. But I do have the advantage of being very old — so old that I was taught grammar at primary school. That for me is the most useful enduring tool in clear writing. But, I hasten to add, I would definitely not hold myself up as anyone who is much good at writing. I just try to keep it simple. I am lost in admiration when I do read good writing — at least I can recognise it, when I see it!
Hang on in there, Richard – the fact that you are thinking about it and are trying to communicate is so important. A lot of people have their eyes so firmly on the citation ranking or whatever that they forget to write something for people to read. Once you have that “dear reader” in your mind, I bet that will help a lot, if only because so many people don’t seem to bother, and then wonder why readers misunderstand what they write.
Maxine wrote – “I would definitely not hold myself up as anyone who is much good at writing. I just try to keep it simple.”
And that’s exactly it – keeping it simple. Always a virtue.
I do sometimes think that the ability to write clearly and well might be something that not everyone can master. Sure you can improve, but will everyone be able to pull it off to a high standard? I don’t want to inspire a pile-up, but like every other talent in life, some native ability is probably necessary. You can’t polish out a diamond from a lump of coal.
But for sure, let’s try at least to get shinier lumps of coal!
I think you are right, Jenny. Whereas it is true that you can’t polish a turd, those with some talent can always improve it with practice. We’ve talked a lot about writing elsewhere, and we know that writing is like any other activity, such as sport or playing the piano – you get better with practice, and you should practice often.
I agree, Jenny. Some of us are not talented writers, and therefore it is best to “keep it simple”, etc.
Others do have talent – the editor (eg me) can recognise natural talent even if s/he cannot write in a “pyrotechnic” vein him or herself.
I venture to suggest that, probably via the practice that Henry mentions, you and Henry fall into the “excellent writer” category (in my book, anyway).
Second careers (or, maybe, from what I know of you both, third or fourth careers) beckon.
Is there a prize for best written science paper? An anthology? This would be a good motivation. And I always learn best from examples.
Ooh. That’s a cunning idea, Martin.
Get those buffing cloths out.
Wait a minute, we are Nature Network. We can just start a group called The good paper or some such and have a Journal Club / Forum to post examples of good scientific writing. Finding these papers is the tricky part. But with enough papers discussed in the Journal Club we would have material for anthologies, prizes, etc.
laugh
Fantastic.
The cogs are grinding rustily into motion, Martin. I’d like to kick off with Vartanyan et al, Holocene dwarf mammoths from Wrangel Island in the Siberian Arctic, Nature vol. 362, 337-340, 1993, a paper I had much pleasure in handling. It remains one of the clearest, cleanest manuscripts I’ve ever seen – that all the authors were Russian is, I think, salutary.
I wrote a Nautilus post the other day which contains some links that might be useful for this purpose – one is to an EMBO Reports editorial on language of science by Frank Gannon; and another is to a paper in the same issue of EMBO R enticingly subtitled “The bleak sensory landscape of biomedical texts”. I haven’t read this article, but I would hope that it references good and bad examples of scientific writing.
(Please get in touch with me by email if you want to read the EMBO R articles and do not have access.)
Yes Maxine – that post was the first link in my post and inspired me to write my rant 🙂
Oh sorry Richard — how silly of me — no memory you see (another feature of extreme old age). I hadn’t gone back and re-read the original post before commenting again. Apologies.
I think you and Martin are on to something here, and it would be nice if we could tempt Linda Cooper back to life!
So, Maxine: You’re the people with the power. I suppose we/you could run an election-type thing, with nominations followed by votes?
That abstract at least, Henry, does look very tasty. But it’s fifteen years old. Surely there are more recent examples?
Yes, the paper aboutt dwarf mammoths from Wrangel Island is an oldie, but it stuck in the mind, for two reasons. The first I’ve already mentioned – it’s a well-turned paper by non-anglophones. The second is that in the draft of the ms as I originally received it the authors explained that the mammoths had become dwarfed because they had been ‘oppressed’: the only clue, apart from the authors’ names, that the paper came from Russia.
Oh, how marvelous. Free the oppressed mammoths. Perestroika for all.
What about the undergraduate research journals; there are many of these in the US allowing students to get to grips with science writing. Don’t you think these already offer some training in writing for the undergraduates?
The what?
I second, or third, or fourth, the idea of finding and sharing examples of excellent science writing for scientists, Martin. I’ll keep my eye out for a group of some sort and for papers to contribute. Thank you, Henry, for kicking off.
Maxine wrote: “I am lost in admiration when I do read good writing—at least I can recognise it, when I see it!” This echoes how I feel about humo(u)r. Usual disclaimer.
I also value clear, simple writing but, despite a little practice, still can not keep my sentences and thoughts linear. I wield grammar like a heavy tree trunk and am quite aware of this shortcoming. I’d love a personal, professional editor for my articles, the same one each time, who knew and could overcome my foibles, like a successful fiction writer could have. Who wouldn’t want one?
The nice thing about comment boxes is that you can all take off your editors’ hats.
What terrific posts!
For the past several years, I’ve felt like a lonely crusader in my small attempts to change how science papers are written. Now I know that many others care about science writing and that change is afoot.
During the past decade of preaching the benefits of clear writing in science, I’ve noticed that once scientists are guided to the conclusion that something is rotten with the state of Denmark – everything changes. No longer do they accept convoluted sentences with specialized terminology and lapses in logic as substitutes for clear thinking. Instead, they start asking hard questions about the research, why it’s important, and why should we care any way. Who knows? If the day ever comes when readers can actually understand the papers they read (rather than banging their heads against the wall as they struggle to deconstruct abstruse prose), then the community can start to debate the merits of the research in their fields. (The point, I think, of publishing a paper in the first place?!)
And what a great idea to collect examples of “The Good Paper”. Since scientists use journals in their field as models of how to write a paper – and since many of these papers are weak – what a relief it will be to have some well-written papers to turn to.
Maxine,
the EMBO Reports article Six senses in the literature is an interesting read. But rather than good or bad examples, the authors used text-mining tools to compare the frequencies of sensory words in various texts. You will learn that texts from Shakespeare are the richest in taste-, smell-, and touch-related terms and that the color black dominates all other colors in the texts by Poe. Surprisingly, the paper itself is a tough reading.
Linda,
great to see you come out of the woodwork 🙂 Your observation resonates with me, and it will be interesting to see what happens next in this case.
Now, where’s that newly formed group…
… which is called The Good Paper Journal Club. Feel free to join the group and post your favorite paper.
I think a club that showcases the worst scientific writing would be far more motivational, not to mention entertaining.
No, we must accentuate the positive, rather than drag out the negative and throw rocks at it. Besides, where would one start? I have discussed the rottenness of Denmark here.
Hmm. I think that yes, we push the ‘Good writing’ schtick, but because it’s hard work and we all need a good laugh, there should, as Audra suggests, also be a private corner where we can have a good stoning.
This is both a depressing and hopeful discussion. I’m in the job of trying to get scientists to communicate with people who aren’t scientists and here you all are saying that many scientists can’t even talk to their own kind!
In the science communication field (that’s scientists talking to public audiences), there’s a perennial discussion as to whether it should be an integral part of every scientists’ job to undertake some public communication activity, of whatever form. The argument against is the same as Jennifer’s – not every good scientist is a good public communicator, and we shouldn’t prohibit the what many consider the main priority of science – the creation of new knowledge.
And, from the sound of it, not every good scientist is a good communicator to other scientists either. There’s a similar debate about the role of teaching for an academic researcher, as I understand it.
My (current) answer to the “should public communication be part of a scientist’s job?” is no – but those that are good at it, or that can do it should be encouraged and should not be penalised for it (and maybe, whisper it, even be rewarded for it ). I think it is the same for communication within science – though with a heavy caveat that it is part of an academic scientist’s job to share the results of their work within at least their scientific community.
My perfect academic scientist, however, is one who does interesting, original research, can pass on that knowledge usefully to students through teaching, mentoring or whatever, is aware of how to identify the commercial possibilities of their research, and is a charismatic, fluent or otherwise engaging public communicator. And I have to add to that, now, one who writes clear journal articles. And can bake cakes. Do they exist?
Henry, I agree in that finding the positive examples is probably less fun but definitely more constructive. And good writing makes it easier for me to understand papers from other scientific fields. Today I’ve already something about mammoth teeth.
Scott Keir mentioned the broader concern of scientific communication, and what worries me is that there’s a lot of lip service paid to this idea without much real attention. It’s similar to the need for good writing, everyone says its a great idea but in my anecdotal experience PI’s don’t pay much attention about their student’s development in that respect.
Perhaps we all need to read this paper before we start writing our own:
Kaj Sand-Jensen (2007) How to write consistently boring scientific literature. Oikos 116 (5) , 723–727 doi:10.1111/j.0030-1299.2007.15674.x
Ironically, on their home page they highlight this text:
The use of the seasonal forcing in the model is adapted to an ecosystem with poikilothermous organisms, but can be changed, relatively easily, to fit ecosystems that include homeothermous animals, e.g. to make it possible to model the effects of bird migration on lower trophic levels.
Thanks Richard. It’s fun to be back.
It’s so difficult to find well-written papers, so let’s please focus on the good paper rather than pointing to the sometimes breathtakingly confused articles that make it into the journals!
The journals are bursting with poorly written papers, and we desperately need good models to aspire to. This has always been the hardest part for me when teaching science writing courses – directing researchers to examples of clear, precise, and accessible articles.
Linda has posted at her blog about a recent experiment by the journal Science, in which authors are asked to write a one-page summary of their papers. Please go over and comment, as we Nature journal editors are interested to know scientists’ views on this issue.
Been pondering this off-line. We do need good writing to look at, yes, but I think we also need to find egregious examples; not just to laugh at as Audra suggests, but to learn from.
Why is this sentence, that construction so bad? We should make ourselves (and our charges) aware of the pitfalls.
Richard – I agree, but I wonder how well it would work in practice. Pity the poor scientist who wonders along here to find their work being taken apart!
Richard,
It can be really instructive to ‘deconstruct’ poorly written papers – and provide possible revisions too. You might want to look at an example I posted on June 4th “Why the active voice, useful transitions, and clear subjects help readers”.
Is this the sort of thing you have in mind?
If that’s the one Heather commented on, then yes, I saw that post, and it’s exactly what I’m saying.
I’m a high school science teacher. It was stated that good scientific writing should begin at the undergraduate level. Why there? I feel it is part of my job to encourage this skill even with my grade nine students. The question I ask of you, the scientists, is to exhibit some exemplars of good scientific writing. At my level, the third person passive voice tends to be stressed to encourage objectivity. What other options can you encourage? I REALLY want to know. Please email me somehow!
Communication IS part of the scientific process.
Hello James
That’s really interesting. Do you have much opportunity to actually do this in class? Is it appropriate (that is, can you do it without putting your job at risk) for you to teach ‘good writing’? Is saying to your students “Here are some examples of good writing: emulate them” the best way to do this?
I’m genuinely interested in your perspective, being a ‘consumer’ of what we do.
PS – do your students have the means to explore network.nature unsupervised?
Please see my current blog post about the undergraduate science journals and their potential for improving student’s science writing. It also mentions the science journal for high school pupils, Eye on Science which might be useful to James; we had a popular science magazine for pupils at my high school as well, called’Impulse’ which helped with popular science writing skills..