Scientists Need to Speak Human Too

Have you ever watched The Big Bang Theory? It’s one of my favourite shows. While it exaggerates the awkwardness of scientists quite a bit, being from science (I have a Master’s Degree in Pharmaceutical Biotechnology) myself, I can safely say – we are often terrible communicators. Especially when we really, really love our work. Not many of us are born with the eloquence of Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Carl Sagan, or Bill Nye. And if we were, perhaps we wouldn’t have burned the midnight oil trying to decipher what the professor was droning on about in class, simply because they couldn’t capture our attention.

Most professors at elite universities are there for the research infrastructure. While teaching is technically part of their job, many prefer to focus on nurturing PhDs and post-docs in their labs rather than undergrads who struggle with the basics of physics or biochemistry. Some outright dislike teaching undergrads and only teach grad students.

Another thing many younger scientists find themselves lacking in – and have to consciously catch up on – is social skill. Professors in their sixties or older don’t struggle as much because social graces were taught and practiced more actively in their day. But today, a large number of researchers either cannot socialize easily or simply dislike socializing beyond what’s absolutely necessary for their science.

Most research funding these days comes from government bodies or from private individuals who “want to make a difference” and support science. These generous individuals, often from business or philanthropic backgrounds, want to talk to scientists about their work. They’re usually polite and curious. The least one can do is return that politeness and explain one’s work clearly – without drowning them in jargon so dense they can’t find their own keys at the end of the night.

We may have different qualifications or ways of thinking, but if you’re seeking support for your research, communication becomes part of your responsibility. Saying, “Give me funding, I can’t explain my project as it is too complicated,” is not going to inspire confidence.

I’ve seen this up close in cancer biology – my own field of interest – where I want to work. The work we do is deeply complex and emotionally heavy. We dive into pathways, mutations, and cell lines for hours, speaking in a language so specific that even fellow biologists from other fields sometimes struggle to follow. But when someone outside the lab – say, a patient’s family, a donor, or a policymaker – asks what we do, we falter. We either oversimplify or, worse, confuse them with jargon until their eyes glaze over. Honey, there is a middle ground. Please, use that!

Unfortunately, this overly complicated language and a lack of approachability have already eroded public trust in science – and scientists themselves have, knowingly or not, contributed to that gap. It’s time we tried to fix it. Perhaps by teaching those entering scientific fields not just technical skills, but also the basics of communication, courtesy, and social skills.

That’s something I find myself deeply drawn to. Science doesn’t need to be cold to be precise, and a bit of warmth goes a long way in helping others understand and value what we do. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for a new kind of teacher – the kind that cares for both the bench and the blackboard.