Navigating new normals in EDI part 2

This post was written by Alex and Rokia, with support and critique from the Science London collective.

Last time we attempted to outline the environment in which Equality, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) work in science communication takes place. We discussed how the normative structures of science, science communication and public engagement uphold various forms of domination and oppression: meaning that doing this work involves putting yourself in conflict with universal beliefs of science and the aims of public engagement. 

For part two, we move from outlining the problem to considering whether/how the current situation could include opportunities for progress and innovation. But making change in this moment of great personal, professional and national uncertainty is difficult to do alone. And so, as a way of building meaningful solidarity through open discussion of the challenges we face, the final part of this week's series includes our thoughts on why we do EDI work and our experiences of exclusion within STEMM. We realise that everyone’s story will be different, but perhaps some common threads will emerge that help us undo the tangled web that is EDI work. We end by sharing some strategies we have found useful for coping and ways to keep going during the pandemic and beyond. 

Imagining ‘The New Normal’ as inclusive

As discussed, the current moment is prompting wide scale change within and between sections of society. In this sub-section we highlight where this has created opportunities for inclusive practice in innovative and interesting ways. The development of these projects/ discussions should get us thinking about pushing to implement ideas you may have been sitting on for a while, or could provide inspiration to develop new practices to meet emerging demands. 

In acknowledgement of the amazing inclusive practice carried out by community organisations/ groups, The British Science Association (BSA) has awarded grants to local organisations to trial engagement strategies fit for a Covid-19 world*. From Zoom anatomy and physiology workshops themed around African hair and skincare, to informative Covid-19 “SARS WARS” activity packs that were delivered to people's homes, these projects highlight the potential for positive progress in the midst of crisis. Inclusive practitioners are skilled innovators because they are already attuned to the dynamic, complex needs of the publics they serve and this kind of innovative thinking will be key to the survival of all businesses as we move into the second wave of the pandemic. Further, as Marston et al write here, there is much we can learn from grassroots organising of the past, e.g. looking at strategies developed during the HIV/AIDs epidemic. Their article includes best practice suggestions for developing successful mechanisms of community participation during a public health crisis. 

Similarly, ideas of being led by social movements and members of marginalised communities were central to discussions during the recent joint UKRI and Research on Research Institute event: Science and Society 20 years on.  Aligned with this weeks’ theme, the panel discussion analysed how far public engagement with science had come since the 2000 House of Lords report (you can watch it here). While acknowledging that there was still a long way to go, provocations from Dr Hamied Haroon and Dr Erinma Ochu, suggest a growing appetite for inclusive practice in public engagement that directly address how we as communicators: share power with and incorporate the valuable knowledges held by the underserved communities we hope to reach. In general it indicates that as large institutions try to define their new normal they are beginning to see value in what vulnerable communities, e.g. those who live in perpetual states of crisis, can teach them and we can be cautiously hopeful that this process could be creating space for changing attitudes towards EDI in the science communication.

Why we do EDI work?

So, given all the personal and professional challenges associated with doing EDI work, why do we do it? Having asked the other members of the collective this question it is clear that we have all committed to EDI in science for different reasons, often related to our personal beliefs and professional experiences. Common amongst our reasonings were: feelings of anger/ frustration having been on the receiving end of challenges created by the unequal structure of science, feeling that our privilege as academics meant we had a responsibility to make science more equitable for those with even less access than ourselves. Underpinning it all, is a great love for science meaning that we want/ expect more from it as an institution. Doing EDI work means existing in a paradox, in which success renders our position redundant, so in the end we do this work, so one day there won’t be a need for it. 

As a collective, when we allow ourselves to imagine a new normal free of the challenges discussed here, we hope for (amongst other things): the history of science to be discussed in ways that reckon with, rather than justify, sciences involvement in upholding social inequality; mainstream scientific narratives becoming naturally poly-vocal and techno-scientific imaginaries of ideal users or citizens being inclusive of publics within and between all socially constructed categorisations, underscored by an inherent understanding that the knowledge and experiences of all people has value. 

Things are hard at the moment, but we found taking time to remind ourselves how and why we got into inclusive practice, the initial commitments we made and how we keep going, to be a useful exercise.

Charise:

“I started doing EDI work when it became unbearably apparent to me how alienating STEM institutions, research and comms often were for  marginalised groups and individuals, including me - and the wider implications of this exclusion were often dangerous. I felt the missions, strategies didn't include people like me, or when they did it was clumsily done”

Ellie:

“I started doing EDI stuff at work in a science communication job because I was incredibly frustrated by the lack of concern about who was on our team, the types of stories we included in our materials, and the objects we selected and prioritised. This got me really thinking about structural challenges and eventually led me to changing the course of my research too.

Rokia

“ For me inclusive practice in science never felt like a choice. Once I became fully aware of all the knowledge and experiences that were being excluded from the way science is constructed and communicated and the impact that has on how it is used in wider society, promoting EDI felt like a natural fit. On a personal level I experienced many of the same feelings of exclusion that we discuss as a collective. I hope, through our work and the efforts of countless others, we make it so members of marginalised groups feel empowered to bring their perspectives to STEM- ultimately I feel that science is worse off for their absence.

Personal experiences:

Alex: As a STEMM student, I never thought that diversity and inclusion would become so important to my studies. As someone who is white English, I often forget that people only see the Hijab that I wear as part of my identity as a young Muslim. In school I knew that most teachers initially struggled with pairing my name to the Hijabi (woman wearing a hijab) they saw. I naively believed this would be different in university as I believed STEMM, and by extension STEMM professors were objective.  

My first realisation that even in STEMM spaces I would be excluded, came at a university offer holders day. As a first generation student, I was very nervous and excited to meet my potential professors and course mates; but none of the largely white group of students and student ambassadors attempted to speak to me, only a professor came over to tell me that he encouraged all his first year students to ‘really shock their parents’ and that the science society was all about the ‘socials’. Queue the prejudice of the trapped and repressed Muslim woman who needs to be liberated.

I declined my offer.

When I finally settled on a university, I was more apprehensive about what I would find there. In my first year genetics lectures the professor has made a point of eye-balling me when discussing cousin-cousin marriages (straying slightly into forced and arranged marriages) and their frequency in different communities and the health issues that they can cause; I didn’t  feel I could attend my course society’s events as they were held late at night and in heavy drinking environments. Pubs are unwelcoming places for non-drinking people from minority groups, especially Muslim Women. The one event that my faculty organised was similarly run, so unlike other course mates I was not able to meet with professors and course organisers in a social setting.

The societies and course organisers are the science communicators for university students; and it wasn’t until I became more involved in a sports society that I began to see the thought process that shapes the exclusionary practices and remarks that were made so naturally in their settings. The attitudes of some many people I spoke to seemed to be shaped by the Double Deficit model, the concept that the exclusion is the fault of the excluded through their own behavioural and attitudinal deficiencies. During a recent committee meeting two committee members remarked that you couldn’t form friendships unless you went out at night to pubs with people, I then defended my choices alone whilst the rest of the committee watched on. An underlying belief that I was deficient in their socialising practices, meant to them that I simply did not socialise. This came despite my self-organising sober socials, being active in creating different spaces to meet with other members and running and being elected into the committee.

But this space of blaming ‘the other’ is comfortable, and affects us all, whilst writing this I am struggling not to revise an earlier sentence to ‘the hijab that I choose to wear’ in case my independent decision to dress the way I do is not implicit in what I have written. Dawson argues that we need to understand exclusion less as the need for assimilation but more as the need to highlight and represent marginalised experiences (Equity, Exclusion and everyday science learning). My limited and on-going learning on how to discuss my experiences has shown me that the best way of doing so is to include those around me in my experiences. Walking around central London and sports areas means I get a fair dose of dark glances for being a hijabi. I started just remarking to a friend about how people give me odd looks for wearing a hijab in the gym, and the looks and comments from other members of the sports team. This same friend then emailed the Student Union to ask them to make and stock team branded sports hijabs (an email the union is yet to respond to). I was touched beyond words that they had done this for my sake and been such an ally for me on something I had learnt to accept.

How we keep going

Below is a collection of strategies we have employed to keep going when things get particularly difficult, but we understand that finding motivation is personal and context dependent. If nothing else we hope they point you towards strategies that might work for you in difficult times.

1. Remember, you are not alone, even if it feels one sided and like a losing cause, people are doing this work with you. We very much hope this is something people are able to take away from these blog posts

2. Be honest: In most cases people are ignorant of the issues you are facing and bystanders will not intervene unless you directly involve them in the experience- but you shouldn’t sugarcoat it. Being honest could also mean honesty relating to your expectations of allies/ accomplices or setting boundaries with the people in your life - all of which helps to create space for self care. 

3. Ask for help, don’t try to carry everything all the time (here being honest with yourself becomes crucial). Trying to swim against the soup of socialisation is difficult and can feel like you are getting nowhere, so look for allies and or accomplices to build communities. They will support you through the experiences and share some of the weight of the issues you face. 

• Now is a great time for online community building/ networking however, it is important that underserved populations with limited access to online spaces don’t get left behind in the process. 

4. Learn to give yourself space and time and know that the work will still be there when you get back. As Sara Ahmed writes: “Sometimes to sustain your commitments you stop what you are doing”.

5. Remind yourself why you are doing this. It’s important you are here for the right reasons as this directly impacts the way you approach EDI work. These moments of reflection could involve seeking out best practice examples to reignite your faith that things are changing, or taking time to listen to the communities you are trying to serve to re-engage in addressing their needs as they evolve.

We wish we could give more definitive advice, but the future has never been more uncertain, meaning that things that seem possible now, may not be in just a few weeks time. Also, we still have many things to learn in relation to navigating the scicomm landscape and ensure we live and work in ways that promote EDI and also anti-racist practice. What we do know is that the mould of ‘The New Normal’ is not yet set, we still have the opportunity to shape it into a softer and more inclusive space.

*Learnings from the BSA projects will be shared ahead of British Science Week 2021 (5th - 14th March 2021) and are sure to contain useful insights for further adjusting our practices. We will be share them via our social media platforms next year.

Navigating the old and ’new normal’: Equality, Diversity & Inclusion in science Part 1

This post was written by Alex and Rokia, with support and critique from the Science London collective.

In this blog series we build on several themes from previous content weeks that have focused on anti-racism in science, and incorporated ideas of transformation and stagnation to reflect on the current landscape and potential future of science communication. Here we consider how wider inequalities shape the structure of inclusive science communication, as well as the experiences of those who, like us, aspire to make the creation, communication and use of science inclusive .

Drawing upon the various experiences of our collective, we discuss the challenging realities and optimistic imaginings of remaining committed to inclusivity in science communication. While acknowledging that doing this work is not easy, we hope this series of blog posts will highlight why it’s worth pursuing and can offer some strategies on how to keep going.

Covid & context:

In a world unquestionably changed by the spread of SARS-CoV-2 (which causes COVID-19), many of us are having to develop new ways to exist, interact and (hopefully) thrive across all aspects of our personal and professional lives. It is tacitly understood that the end point for these processes of reconfiguration, will be the creation of a “New Normal”. A multi-purpose buzzword that, for us, further highlights how power/privilege, or lack thereof, shapes the lives of individuals and society at large. 

For some, particularly those disproportionately impacted by the pandemic, the phrase appears to signify increased hardship, uncertainty and exposure to the virus. While for others, whose relative privilege/security affords them physical and economic resilience to the ongoing crisis, it might mean stagnation: underpinned by a desire to return to the comfort of what was. In relation to the work Science London do as a collective, the phrase got us thinking about what these processes of reconfiguration mean in the short and longer term for Equality, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) work in science communication (scicomm); and whether/ how our journey to ‘The New Normal’ could create space for positive transformation and progress. 

However, before we delve into what could be (there will be more of that in part 2), we thought we should look at the existing arrangement of EDI within science communication, what is changing within the public science space and consider what these changes mean for developing inclusive science. 

The landscape:

“STRUCTURAL INEQUALITIES ARE PART OF THE SOUP OF SOCIALIZATION WE ALL SWIM IN. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO REPRODUCE THEM UNLESS WE WORK HARD AGAINST THEM”

As the quote above from Drs Emily Dawson and Barbara Streicher indicates, theoretical and practical work that promotes equality, diversity and inclusion in science, as a form of social justice, is necessary because the environments internal and external to science are inherently unequal. As science communicators, traditional visions of science as a; white, male, western enterprise are both tacitly and explicitly sustained by the dominant narratives we’re encouraged to share, because they so rarely include the scientific knowledge and experiences of those that exist beyond such narrow framings.

It is important we understand that the exclusionary nature of science communication is not an ‘error’ from a previous time, but a deliberate part of its design. Because, as countless public engagement with science (PES) scholars have shown us, communicating science is not about telling nuanced, inclusive narratives. It is often about selling a specific version of science to publics, who are imagined as homogenous and deficient in scientific knowledge, but whose support is crucial to the financial stability of state funded science, public science centres etc. and the continued use of science in political decision making.  

These ideas, initially surfacing in the Royal Society’s 1985 ‘Bodmer report’ and the House of Lords 2000 Science and Society report, are famously discussed by the likes of Brian Wynne and Alan Irwin . For more general discussions regarding EDI and science communication, The Journal of Science Communication (JCOM) covers important dimensions of socially inclusive scicomm and we have found the Frontiers special issue: Inclusive Science Communication in Theory and Practice helpful in shaping our thinking about the current situation. 

Mapping the landscape of EDI in science communication makes clear: that committing to communicating science in ways that values diverse knowledge traditions, or highlights how science upholds intersecting forms of oppression, mounts a challenge to grand narratives of western science as morally and epistemically superior. In short, promoting EDI in scicomm involves working against normative understandings of science and the aims of communicating science to the public. 

Similar to our previous discussions on allyship and activism in science communication, inclusive practice in scicomm takes many forms. It is visible in the individual voice that challenges a non-diverse scicomm panel, through to full EDI teams that develop frameworks for inclusive practice at institutional levels . Ultimately we are all working towards the same goal: a science that is accessible to and inclusive of all people. However, it is worth noting that you are often equally positioned as working against the scientific status quo, when outside scientific institutions, as you are when directly employed by them to do EDI work. 

As Dr Anamik Saha suggests, teams created under the EDI banner may not truly be designed to address issues of diversity and inclusivity: 

“Diversity initiatives in various forms have been established for decades now, yet very little changes in terms of the representation…[or the structure/function of institutions]… Is it because such initiatives are not being properly implemented? Do they represent nothing more than a form of lip service, a tokenistic gesture? Is it the case that diversity has become a money-making industry in itself, with diversity practitioners Or is it [as they go on to argue]…because diversity initiatives in fact serve an ideological function. They are a way of managing the demands for equality while keeping...hierarchies intact.”

Although talking about the racial disparities in the cultural industries, much of their critique is applicable to the structure of the scientific community. At a time when scientific institutions have (reactively) pledged to address issues of inclusion and marginalisation within their workforces and public interactions (e.g. The Science Museums ‘Open for All’ action plan) we should be attentive to whether publicly performed solidarity translates to tangible change. Further, as Sara Ahmed’s work  explains, we must consider where the burden of institutionalised diversity work sits and how it can be used to circumvent processes of accountability and reflexivity. 

This is something I (Rokia) have witnessed first hand, having been involved in town halls related to racism within academia. Despite any willingness from non marginalised individuals involved, the emotional and practical burden to educate and tackle issues of racism, sexism, ableism, etc. often finds its way onto the shoulders of already marginalised individuals who are given lots of encouragement to fix a problem they did not create. In so doing, those in a position of privilege are often free to disengage from the process, assured it is being taken care of elsewhere. 

What’s changed?

The biggest change for science communication industries comes from social isolation policies which forced large scale closures. For Science London, this meant we would no longer be able to hold in-person inclusive scicomm workshops or training sessions as we had initially planned; instead, we had to consider new ways we could support our community. As Drs Emily Dawson and Barbara Streicher note: the doors closing on public science engagement organisations sent shockwaves through the industry, but the impacts of diminished revenue streams and unemployment have not distributed evenly. Those on precarious/ freelance/ temporary/ short-term contracts and non-profits being worse impacted. And, as mentioned in our previous post on payment, these contracts are largely held by the multiply marginalised within society and is the way many (or even most) EDI workers are employed. In other words, EDI work in science is rarely a primary goal for large scale institutions. If you look at management structures/ boards/ committees within large institutions there is rarely someone whose role is dedicated to EDI, signally that our work is generally viewed as peripheral to the needs of public facing science. 

We would also add that discussing payment in EDI roles is a vital part of anti-racist work. It was only a few months ago, in June 2020, that the #Publishingpaidme trend showed the widespread pay disparities that exist in the publishing industry. This online movement sparked new interest in the introduction of ethnicity pay audit legislation similar to the gender pay gap reporting; several petitions were started, one petition recording over 130 thousand signatures in support. As we approach the 100th day since this petition closed, the government are yet to set a date to debate this. Moreover, since the start of the pandemic the British Government has relaxed the laws on collecting gender pay gap audits from companies despite the mass redundancies expected which will inevitably affect women and minorities the hardest. 

Additionally, since the bans on social gatherings began, we have also seen a large migration of content online. Conferences and speakers were suddenly hosting more talks through available and often free of charge webinars. In many cases this means increased accessibility to high profile speakers or events, particularly for those with (dis)abilities or commitments that made travelling to events challenging. But this is undeniably a double edged sword, as (technological/ socio-economic) inequality will still govern who has access to these ‘free’ events. For example; users while users needing access to computers/ the internet are given, we must also consider who has access to quiet space in their homes to attend, or issues around cameras needing to be on during calls which may prevent people from joining. Overall we should be wary of the idea that migrating online automatically translates to a form of inclusive communication and find ways to harness this move equitably. 

We finish part one by questioning what these changes might mean for EDI work in science/ scicomm. Will the opportunities to further embrace inclusive practice presented by migrating online be undermined by institutions' fears of relevancy and economic viability, therefore make the work harder for those of us committed to it? Will the dimensions of EDI work remain the same post COVID-19 e.g. who the burden of this work ultimately sits with and the personal and professional costs associated with participating in it? Are there opportunities to harness the momentum developed in relation to social justice amidst the pain and exhaustion of a global crisis? And whether government policy is providing avenues for institutions to enact inequitable practices without fear of being held accountable. 

While it appears that the overall landscape may become more difficult to navigate, we should not lose hope, as opportunities for progress, however small, do exist. Importantly, if we are willing to openly discuss what is changing and what it might mean it gives us, at best, time to adapt and innovate so we can thrive in this new landscape and at worst, time to steady ourselves for the more difficult task ahead. 

Fake News and Misinformation in Science

Written by Vaish with the support of the Science London collective

We began the online wave of Science London to share ways in which we were engaging with anti-racist and inclusive practices in science communication and highlighting ways for you to do the same. 

This week our focus is on news and information - developing it into broader themes. In particular we’re going to think about how and why certain types of “fake news” are popular, and the ways science and scientists are both a part of and are used by “fake news”. The fact that there is fake news all over social media is not something new. How we interact with social media has changed - it is mediated by technologies including algorithms, mobile devices, and the advent of new corporations on social media. Thus changed our consumption of news and information, making it even more crucial to be a conscious consumer of information on social media. “Fake” science news can be particularly time-consuming to get to the bottom of - rapid trending and viral sharing of an idea often means it is too late to get ahead of a trending news story to debunk it in time, especially if the technologies of spreading - twitterbots and machine learning - have been programmed to further propagate “fake” news.

Firstly, we must ask, why is there a rampant increase in “fake” news based on science? One of the most common reason is sensationalism, by trying to increase the likelihood of science being picked up by a news outlet, scientists/science communicators tend to sensationalise their research, which in turn leads to falsification and misrepresentation of facts. Are we amplifying or sensationalising science while trying to make technology more ‘approachable’ to the ‘public’? How can we think further - about what sensationalism is doing, what are these claims saying about already marginalised communities? How might this further misrepresent or marginalise people?

While it is crucial to verify the information you receive; we must also take the additional effort to think whether the data making up the article is inclusive. As Rokia says in her blog, “We must also remember that data pertaining to racialised communities is often created through the white gaze, which projects reductive understandings of identity as fact.” This is another aspect of misinformation, misrepresentation. To be a critical consumer, it is useful to think about whose voice is not included, whose knowledge has not been centred, and what that might mean for the piece you are reading. While these points below aid in being a critical consumer, it is still crucial to be critical of our own work as researchers and science communicators and not just of other people’s work.

To help think about these issues, I find a set of prompt questions helpful: 

• Who wrote this article? Who might have written the press release/science paper?

• What’s the topic? Who is it important to? Who is the desired audience? 

• Who’s voice is not in this research? 

• Why might I have been shown this news? What biases are behind it reaching me? 

Beyond just making more spectacular claims about research, applications of STEM are often used as a crucial tool in the saviour narrative the west spins on Global South countries. An example of this is the implementation of the railways in India by the British Empire. As an Indian, the majority of my secondary history education revolved around the Indian independence struggle. We learnt how the British colonised India, while exploiting the country for its economy, resources, culture and freedom. There have been countless arguments for and against Britain owing India reparations for colonialism. Many argue that, while they colonised India, they left us with the railways, the telegraph system, industrialisation, and countless other applications of science and technology. This argument plays into the narrative, that even though they exploited a rich country for two centuries, because they supplied us with applications of technology - which they still had control of and excluded Indians from using it - we gained something from being one of Britain's colonies. This is a prime example for how the Global North continues to use science and its applications to “save” other countries and bring them prosperity. 

Using “science” as a saviour from the Global North is an ongoing problem. Firstly, it means that Global North scientists get to focus on “benefits” that they brought to other countries. Rather than really focusing on the experiences, needs, and impacts of the technology - like the railroads in India - a flattened, celebratory narrative is possible. This localises the power in STEM professionals of the Global North, and misrepresents the actual impact of introducing these technologies. Questions like, who has been displaced by this technology? Who is getting rich from making this intervention? Whose needs are really being satisfied? Might be helpful in guiding criticism and changing our collective communication practices. 

Secondly, it means that technological solutions to problems continue to be touted as the best solutions. We can see this in the vaccine narrative for COVID-19; rich nations can throw money at developing vaccines that will then “solve” COVID-19, and can be sold elsewhere. But, community solutions, such as practicing mask-wearing, testing, and social changes are as important. In other cases, it means that local/community knowledge about cures, environmental management, biodiversity change, or sexual preference is not believed until there is a technological confirmation of this, often in Global North laboratories. This limits science to being the knowledge produced within institutions, and suggests that anything else is not legitimate knowledge. We can ask, who’s knowledge is included in this news? What type of “solution” is being discussed? 

There is, also, a crucial distinction between misinformation and disinformation: Misinformed can imply that the news was incorrect by mistake, but disinformed implies that the type of information was intentionally false. This distinction has not always been made clear. Could ‘misinformation’ be used as an excuse to escape active exclusionary practices in generating the information. Which subject topics gets most qualified as misinformation or disinformation? In the case of disinformation, it can be linked to misrepresentation of racialised communities, to further propagate westernised narratives of science, technology and progress. We are able to see first-hand the negative consequences of disinformation in science in the way that the COVID-19 pandemic has been communicated by scientists and science institutions in our community, and how the uptake of biased media coverage has disproportionately been negatively affecting communities of colour. The rampant increase of disinformation is done deliberately to have control of the political, medical and economical narrative. 

So, where does this leave us, as people who author content, and whose work is included in other publications, and as global citizens who consume media? Here are some thoughts:

1. As an author/researcher/communicator:

As we’ve covered here and in our previous blogs, being an anti-racist, inclusive science communicator is vital to improving the quality of science communication; and this has to come at all points: in writing the papers, in press releases, in writing for news articles/on social media, in talking about work with colleagues. Ask: whose research am I promoting? Whose might I have overlooked and why? 

We’ve specifically discussed two ways that science and scientists can contribute to misinformation, disinformation and fake news: sensationalisation and perpetuating the “saviour” narrative; and shown some recent examples of how this might have happened. Ask: Have I sensationalised my research/Is this research sensationalised? Is there a “saviour” narrative? If so, who is being “saved” and where is their voice?

1. As a reader: 

Be aware, for example, that social media activism gives authority to anyone who has a platform. Often how a piece of information trends defines its validity. In an attempt to make vast amounts of information regarding difficult issues, such as racism, humanitarian crises, allyship; Instagram and twitter is now being flooded with aesthetically pleasing slides packed with information regarding that specific topic. Verification can be harder - even if the source of the content is unknown, endorsements from others in the comments can overcome initial scepticism about the source. Ask: are there sources listed? Do I know who wrote it?  

As @eve.ewing notes these posts can be: “Grossly oversimplifying complex ideas in harmful or misleading ways” and often “draw on the work of scholars and activists that go uncredited”. These same can be said of, for example, twitter’s character limit posts. Ask: is there a longer piece that might explore some of the nuances further so that I don’t have a one-dimensional view of this problem?

Being a critical consumer and producer of news and information about science is vital. Centering inclusion, diversity, equity, and anti-racism in your work is vital. In Part 2 of our blog this week, we’ll be taking a deeper dive into details on how to tackle fake news and misrepresentation. 

Difficult Questions in Science Communication

Written by Ellie with the support of the Science London collective. 

Already in these past weeks Science London has begun posing a number of difficult questions in the field of science communication: we’ve asked questions like In what ways is science racist? How can we do anti-racist science communication? How are pay structures in science communication unequal? 

This week we’re going to start thinking about difficult questions from a different perspective - rather than addressing the structures of science communication and asking difficult questions, we’ll be thinking about what addressing “difficult” topics in events looks like. 

What does “difficult” mean?

I (Ellie) think “difficult” is quite a loaded term - when we say that questions or topics can be “difficult” we should think about who finds things “difficult” and what that experience is. 

Through the weeks so far, we’ve thought about how science communication as a field centres on whiteness: white educators, white-focused science, white audiences, white histories. As a white science communicator, I started the preparation for this week understanding “difficult” to mean something that pushed me to unearth histories that challenged my accepted understanding or celebration of received histories, or talking about topics that brought me discomfort.

For example: Where did the money of “independently wealthy gentleman scientists” come from?

Mostly these researchers were wealthy from complicity and participation in the transatlantic slave trade. Some, such as James Watt, are understood to have bought and sold Black people in the UK to work for wealthy aristocrats; others enslaved and profited themselves. The Royal Society (and a number of its fellows) were recipients of funds from, or involved in the running of the Royal African Company. Many scientists used the triangular slave trade boats as ways of getting to Africa or the Americas to collect specimens that currently reside in UK Museums which they could then also sell for profit (this is also pertinent to questions about why we have natural history collection that are dominated by species and specimens from particular locations…). Industrialists were not significantly better -- for example this database documents those who developed the UK railway system whose money for investment came from participation in enslavement and exploitation of Black labour.

However, it’s important to pause and think about who these things are “difficult” for. Some “difficult” questions are uncomfortable for me to think about because they are abrupt, unjust, sometimes horrific events that juxtapose with how I’ve been taught to think about and talk about science. They are often not events that I personally (or anyone I am related to or descended from) have experienced, so I had thought about them as “difficult”: something to work through and resolve. 

However, these “difficult” problems are not abstracted from the world around us and the society we live in - and these feelings and experiences are unequally distributed, and cannot always be satisfactorily resolved. In her blogs, Rokia encouraged us to reflect: 

Given all the ways science perpetuates oppression, we need to be more open to - and unashamedly create space for negative or conflicting reactions to the science we are communicating. Careful questioning as to why participants feel this way could be a great way to open up discussions of racism and social justice in your science communication work.

While the case I’ve given above is mostly historic, the legacy and emotional impact of these actions live on in social and economic inequality. Further, many avenues of inequality - algorithmic oppression for example - are current actions of “difficult” problems that it might be easier to pretend not to see. Experiences of injustice are very real to many people*. They are experiences and events that affect folk of the present, the past, and very probably, the future. So, the luxury of thinking that something is “difficult” - a challenge to engage with on a theoretical level - is in itself a privilege of whiteness that I want to face up to in building the content for this week.

Can we re-frame “difficult” questions?

When I originally conceived of this week, I thought about the moments in science communication events where members of the public ask questions about the topic at hand that cause discomfort. The leader of the event might not know the answer, they might deliberately move around the actual question asked to answer a question that is similar but less awkward, they might know and explain the answer in a complicated way that makes the topic uncomfortable and therefore seem like something we shouldn’t be talking about.

For example, in a show about the Apollo 11 journey to the Moon, a young person in the audience asks “Why is everyone on mission white?”.

Answering the question, the presenter talks about Katherine Johnson’s work on calculating trajectories for the Apollo 11 mission. Describing Black mathematician Johnson’s work, shows that the mission wasn’t entirely white. But this dodges the question - it allows the science communicator to side step the fact that in 1969, America was deeply unequal. Racial injustice was rife, it was only 5 years since the Civil Rights Act had passed, and only one year since the shooting of Malcom X. There had been plans for Captain Ed Dwight, a Black astronaut-in-training to be part of the mission, who was believed at the time not to have been selected because of his race; and there was significant protest against the mission by Black folk in the USA in popular culture songs like “Whitey on the Moon” and through in-person civil rights campaigns. By side stepping the question - and suggesting that there was racial diversity in the mission - the idea that this wasn’t universally supported, and that there was at least some racialised impact of the mission was shut off, and perhaps makes race seem like something that is not as important as the “great leaps” of science in the Moon landing.  

So, while I had thought about this week being a toolkit of sorts to help scientists and science communicators to prepare for these moments, to develop anti-racist, equitable, inclusive and diverse practices around these kinds of questions, or occurences; I believe this is not helpful. It doesn’t tackle the problem. It might instead allow privileged educators to feel better about their work, without engaging with the challenges but rather learning how to resolve issues later.

Instead, I want to use this week to think about what it would mean to address these “difficult” ideas head-on. What would it mean to not prepare for the questions that might come up, but to centre these questions in the piece of science communication itself? What would it mean to specifically develop events or resources that gave space for exploring these ideas in a constructive way  rather than to make raising them shameful or uncomfortable? Would making space for such thoughts help broaden who sees themselves in science communication? 

Remedial solutions, engagement with ideas, and changing practices

This week across the blog, and on social media, I’ll start the week with some examples of how to tackle and highlight “difficult” problems, and try to understand how to re-orient public/science communication to bring these issues to the front. Because there are some good examples from other cultural sectors, we’ll be reaching beyond science communication for some of these examples. Later in the week we’ll be thinking about the challenges of doing this work. Much like any form of anti-racist, inclusive activism, it is not simple. It is unlikely to be picked up and work well without resistance, and there is often push back from people served by the status quo. We’ll have a think about what might help tackle these issues. 

*Note: I wrote this before the UK 2020 exam results, but feel like the use of algorithmic bias in deciding grades is a nation-wide example of the ways injustices can be built into and perpetuated by science.

Why talking about payment is antiracist

This post was written by Ellie and Alex, with support and critique from the Science London collective. 

The two weeks we’ve published so far are reflective; and spend time thinking about individuals as well as structures of power across institutions. We’ve discussed Allyship, Activism and Antiracism in Science Communication.

But this week we’ll be tackling some ideas about payment, pay and money in science communication. But before we kick off what has to be an ongoing discussion, let’s take a moment to think about why tackling issues around money is explicitly antiracist, and particularly important in science communication work. 

Why does talking about payment matter? 

Because individuals are compensated unequally for their work.

Let’s drill down into this. Wage gaps continue to exist in gendered, racialised and ableist ways. It’s well recognised, in the UK, that wage gaps are gendered - in fact the UK Government requires publishing of Gender Pay gap data annually. Although not mandated to report on the data in the same way, it is clear that the UK also has a large racialised pay gap. In 2019, The Financial Times noted in their article, ‘Ethnic minority pay gap in UK still stubbornly wide’, that:

White British workers earned on average 3.8 per cent more, a figure broadly unchanged since 2013, and the gap rises to 20 per cent for some ethnic groups.

And that

“Almost all black and ethnic minority groups continue to face significant pay gaps, compared with white workers” said Kathleen Henehan, policy analyst at the Resolution Foundation, a think-tank. “What’s more, these pay penalties hold even after accounting for workers’ qualifications, experience and the types of jobs they do.” 

And research shows it’s not just what you get paid - but also if you negotiate for it: 

“Further, 2018 research published in Applied Psychology found that when Black job candidates negotiate for better salaries, they are perceived as pushier than white applicants making those same negotiations, and ended up receiving lower starting salaries as a result of racial bias during negotiations.” [https://blog.fracturedatlas.org/pay-transparency-anti-racist]

If wage gaps are a result of racism, then talking about salaries, wages, commissions and budgets  is doing deliberately anti-racist work. It allows us collectively to know how much particular work is worth across different workplaces, and it allows us to work towards pay equity.  

Although it may be considered impolite to talk about money, this is really a structure of oppression - by not knowing how much your labour is worth, it’s possible to underpay employees, most commonly along racist, sexist, ableist structures of oppression. Antiracist work must always explicitly include money.  

Talking about payment can happen at the level of individuals talking to each other  (as happened at Google in 2015): within or between organisations and across industries, as seen earlier in 2020. Organisations themselves can be transparent - clearly telling employees both how much others earn in the organisation and in advertisements for jobs they are hiring into, publishing racial, gender and ability pay gaps too. Organisations don’t have to be large - progressive work by The White Pube (@thewhitepube on Twitter) sees open accounts (available here https://www.thewhitepube.co.uk/accounts) for the enterprise, including how much they were paid and how much they raise through platforms like Pateron.  

Why should we think about it in science communication? 

In June 2020, #PublishingPaidMe trended on twitter; with authors of multiple ethnicities sharing how much they were paid for writing novels, and as the initiator of the tag L.L. McKinney noted: 

“We expected there to be disparities,” McKinney said over the phone to Vox. “We did not expect them to be as wide as they were.” [See full article here) 

Book deals cut in private between agents, writers and publishers meant that information on what other people were paid for their work, along with other budgets for marketing and promoting the content, was hard to come by. 

https://twitter.com/ElleOnWords/status/1269371956442300416?s=20

As an industry where many people are employed on short contracts for their work, rather than in long term roles, it’s similar in science communication (......maybe we need to collectively start a #scicommpaidme?). 

Let’s reflect on our field:

If you’ve been speaking or working at an event, do you know how much everyone else at that event was paid? Did you get asked for your rate, or did the organisation tell you how much they could pay? Are you sure that everyone else there was being offered the same? Are you always paid on time?

If you organise events, have you paid different people different sums for what amounts to the same work? Do certain people ask for more money than others if you ask people to suggest rates? Have you subconsciously employed some people in roles that pay for reasons to do with their identity? Do you pay people to do the equity, diversity, inclusion work that your organisation says it does? 

Science communication also has murky waters in other financial areas. The field often relies on volunteer labour to run events. Have you volunteered? Did you get something in kind that wasn’t money? Could you not volunteer because of other commitments that would have paid you? If you were the organiser, what was your justification for having volunteers? If you are the funder, what are you criteria about having volunteers run events you fund? If you are a network do you let people advertise roles that are unpaid, or with an unspecified salary range?  

When reviewing budgets, grants or proposals (this one is for you employers, organisations and funders), do you require portions of the budget to be spent on access? Are you expecting the events to specifically pay people to develop and include access measures within their event planning - like signers, captioning, or inclusive user-interface design? 

Two weeks ago, Science London was invited to the BIG Inclusive Recovery round table, where Emily Dawson raised the problems that short term precarious contracts create in science communication. Who can commit to a six-month job in London and have the confidence they will be able to find other work at the end of the contract? How does this shape who even applies to the role in the first instance? If you’re expecting to freelance and move between shorter contracts, what kinds of financial stability do you need to have? What, as this article highlights, kinds of emotional tenacity do you need to have? 

All of these questions feed into thinking about why it is so important we think about money in science communication. Most importantly, our respondents to our opening poll on this theme, at the end of last week showed that people have struggled with pay in science communication - with being paid, with working out how to follow up with payment - and believe that there are racial, gendered and ableist discriminatory practices happening in the field. 

https://twitter.com/sciencelondon/status/1288777809830313985?s=20

What can we do about it?!

There are so many questions here - and it’s important that we all as members of the field reflect on the ways in which we may have contributed to racism within the field. It’s a huge topic, so this week we will probably only scratch the surface of what could be covered. But we’re keen to keep this conversation alive - please keep having these discussions. 

This week we’ll be sharing content specifically geared towards working through racial, gendered, and ableist bias that exists - whether you are an organisation, a freelancer, or an incoming science communicator. On our twitter feed (@ScienceLondon) and on our website, this week, we will be posting resources on late payment rights to compensation, template letters to ask your organisation to conduct an ethnicity pay audit and a table of suggestions for anti racist actions Science communications organisations can implement. 

But, this is all geared towards talking about money in the field. Having these discussions with colleagues, with employers, with funders and organisations, with employees, is how we get things changing. Much as we talked about it in the first series of blogs, unless we talk about what the status quo is, with regards to racist, ableist and gendered practices, it is almost impossible to make changes. This affects everyone working in the field, but most especially those who live their lives in the intersections of these identities - making science communication inhospitable financially, and meaning that we as a field lose their skills. Doing anti-racist, equitable, diverse and inclusive science communication is not just about the topics, about who we include, but it is also about how we financially value the people we work with.

We should start as we hope to inspire - by discussing our finances. Science London is a volunteer-led organisation where we pay honoraria to our committee members of £100 a year in recognition of their work. 

Allyship & Activism in Science Part 2

This post has been written by Rokia with the support of the Science London collective (and friends)

“In a racist society it is not enough to be non-racist, we must be anti-racist.”

― Angela Y. Davis

In my last post I briefly introduced some of the historic anti-racist movements that emerged in the UK as a reminder that: we are better able to enact anti-racist work and equitable practice if we pay attention to the  social, political, historical, geographic etc. contexts surrounding the communities we wish to engage. Taking that idea further, this post will consider the ways activism has interacted with science and what lessons can be brought forward to increase our capacity for delivering anti-racist science communication. 

If you’re still on this journey with us, it should come as no surprise to know that science, as an institution and a practice, is not neutral and racism, alongside other interlocking systems of oppression, remains an inherent part of the structure and function of science. Patterns of exclusion and erasure of oppressed groups within science communication, alongside deeply entrenched framings of excluded publics as ‘deficient’ or responsible for their own exclusion routinely reflect and recreate systemic inequalities present in society. 

Thinking about activism interacting with science or science communication often directs us towards environmental science and the ways it has successfully adopted powerful concepts of political ecology which originated from grassroots environmental Justice organisations. 

This process involved academics paying attention to the issues being raised by activists then adopting and expanding the notions and demands placed around them. For example concepts such as; environmentalism of the poor, water justice and environmental racism now visible in environmental and sustainability science originated in activists movements. Additionally, socialist organisations like Science for People , who proudly discussed the non-neutrality of science as early as the 1970s, began by aligning their work with the peace movement and anti-nuclear activists. 

This approach has much to offer  those of us invested in racial justice and equitable practice in science communication. As scientists we are taught to value data or evidence which has been scrutinised to levels we deem acceptable. While this is important to ensure the science we promote is robust, it often excludes the lived experiences or ‘anecdata’ of racialized communities from being considered useful. We must also remember that data pertaining to racialized communities is often created through the white gaze, which projects reductive understandings of identity as fact. In the UK we see this through the lazy construction of terms such as BAME, which reduces and homogenises vastly distinct identities as ‘other’ in relation to whiteness which is automatically positioned as the standard. More often, terms such as these tend to skew the data in relation to race and avoid nuanced discussions regarding the specific needs, triumphs and challenges being experienced by those from racialised minorities. 

As we work to become better allies and actively do anti-racist work in science communication, it is vital that we are listening and learning from the communities we hope to serve while understanding that due to white supremacy, their voices will often be coming from outside of academia or rarely cited/ celebrated when they are working from within. 

Below is a collection of ideas that are helping us grow in our allyship and activism as womxn, scientists and communicators. The prompts have been adapted from environmental justice group One Green Planet and is by no means an exhaustive list. Much of the inspiration for how this works in relation to anti-racism, comes from incredible Black and Minority Ethnic people in and outside of the science communication sphere who have given their time, intellectual and emotional energy to educate us. This is us putting our money where our mouths are and centring their demands. We hope using our platform continues the spread of this knowledge and ignites a passion/ curiosity within you to interrogate how sci-com can work as activism in the literal sense.

How can I be a better sci comms ally, accomplice or activist?: 

As Gail Lewis from BBWG and OWAAD discusses in the link above, activist and/or community groups fighting for racial justice are multifaceted, being many things for many people. As such, in addition to direct action or campaigning there are many ways to help a cause. Think of it as a scale ranging from small, individual actions to large institutional changes. 

Educate yourself & others: 

Sophie mentioned this in her post and it continues to be really important! There are lots of great resources circulating but ultimately there are no shortcuts or definitive anti-racist reading lists. Read widely and do not put the burden back onto the oppressed to educate you. You can alleviate some of that burden by sharing the knowledge you’ve gained with family, friends and your sci-comm co-workers. Social media has been great for raising awareness, but more meaningful are the conversations we have when no-one’s watching. Thinking about sci-comms specifically, Lindy Orthia and Elizabeth Rasekoala have written an excellent piece that documents the non-western roots of our work. 

Make space for emotion 

Generally, Public Engagement with Science (PES) activities are working with the assumption that most people have a positive relationship with science. As such, those who are not engaged in the activities, demonstrations etc that we facilitate are often seen as problems to manage. Given all the ways science perpetuates oppression, we need to be more open to and unashamedly create space for negative or conflicting reactions to the science we are communicating. Careful questioning as to why participants feel this way could be a great way to open up discussions of racism and social justice in your science communication work. This paper from Sarah Davies reminds us of the problematic positioning of publics in PES activities and why making space for the emotive and material matters. 

Volunteer

This may not be feasible for everyone all the time, but where possible volunteer your time, money, your platform and or expertise. This could be donating to racial justice organisations, reaching out to see if they could use your skills (many are linked to education) or using your platform to amplify the voices of minorities in science communication (@MinoritiesinSTEM do a great job of this on twitter). Joining boards/ trustee bodies can be a great way to formally raise issues of racism, diversity and inclusion at departmental or even more senior institutional levels. Again, you volunteering to do this work helps alleviate the burden of explaining institutional racism from your minority colleagues who are living with the effects. 

Get Creative

Diversify the topics you choose as the focus of your science communication. Use your work as an opportunity to highlight the achievements of scholars that sit outside of the [white, cis, male] canon. If you are being asked to speak about a specific topic, suggest alternatives to the organisers. Calling out the need to diversify which science we focus on and celebrate could be a great segue for our next suggestion….

Open the door

Have you been invited to speak on an all white panel? Does the institution you work for keep organising non-diverse events? Speak up! This is a great opportunity for you to actively platform Black and Minority Ethnic communicators while pushing to update the standard narrative of science. Also consider your minority colleagues if you are unable to attend an event or hear about job opportunities, if you’re white chances are you are privy to conversations/ people they aren’t- be bold about suggesting them for work or speak to them privately if you’re unsure of their capacity. 

Don't Stop

Allyship fatigue is not a thing! As stated by The Black Youth Project “Allyship fatigue is an insult to Black [Minority Ethnic and other marginalized] folks who never get to rest” LINK

I would also say that being an ‘ally’ often has passive connotations, while being an ‘accomplice’ feels more like a call to action and reminds us that we should continuously be doing the work. Better to have people using their voices, bodies, power and privilege to disrupt the unjust norms of science than telling you how much they respect you for doing it without them. In any case, if you are white its important to remember that being an ally or accomplice in anti-racist practice isn’t about you. There is no reward other than knowing it’s the right thing to do. Holiday Phillips and Millenial Black have some handy tips on being an anti-racist ally. 

Live It

As it says on the tin. This is all the time, everyday, publicly and privately. 

Rachel Cargle’s 30 days challenge offers an accessible start on your journey to being an accomplice. It includes daily prompts that call us to think critically and act tangibly in solidarity against racism: LINK

Reflect

Take time to reflect and internalise the things you read. Think carefully about the ways you will enact them in your practice. After reading this post we’d ask you to consider:

• Where do you draw inspiration from in developing your science communication? What social justice or activist groups have or could you draw on? Who is still missing from your thoughts?

• What language are you using in your science communication practice- even when you're thinking about doing EDI work - are you using terms that mean you're homogenising groups? If so, what could you do to change that?

• How does your organisation listen to the communities you work with; and/or those that aren't part of your work?

These insights are things we, as the Science London collective and as individuals, are trying  to incorporate into our personal and professional lives.  However, we feel it is important that we acknowledge that we are not experts and committing to allyship and activism means we must be open to critique and reflexivity. We recognise that what we are doing is so much bigger than us or our sphere of influence. For example, as a Black woman I may have a unique perspective to offer the collective on issues relating to the intersections of racism and sexism however, I am not an expert on race, gender or social justice and am certainly not above critique. 

Black and Minority Ethnic people shouldn’t have to fight for justice, and we hope to one day live in a world where organisations such as ours don’t need to exist, but until then we will use our platform and resources to demand better of ourselves and for them.

Allyship & Activism in Science Part 1

This post was written by Rokia, with support and critique from the Science London collective. 

Starting at the start: Activism in the UK

Over the last few weeks we have thought about and discussed the ways in which science is/ can be racist and how we as individuals might be complicit in upholding the socially unjust norms embedded in science and science communication. There is lots more to learn but for the next few weeks we want to pivot the conversation towards how we can be better allies, do anti-racist and inclusive work and what activism and justice in science communication might look like. Thinking about the origins of  anti-racist movements feels like a good place to start. 

In the UK and the US, much of the fight for racial justice, particularly intersectional social justice, was born out of the hearts and minds of Black, queer and/ or trans women. The Heart of the Race: Black Women's Lives in Britain (1985) and The Combahee River Collective statement (1977) are essential reading for understanding the context of the respective movements.

My introduction to the discourses surrounding race, racism and anti-racism were filtered through a North-American lens which erased or overshadowed the UK’s own rich history of social justice activism. This issue, as Reni-Eddo-Lodge confirms in ‘Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race’, was compounded by the fact non-white British history is “often only knowable through a hefty amount of self-directed study”- which speaks to which histories are considered worth preserving and retelling.  For me, the work of American Black feminist scholars offered (and continues to offer) vital guidance and inspiration. But as a 2nd generation Black British woman, such limited access to the UK’s racial justice history left me feeling disconnected from organised efforts to further racial or social justice. I was unable to envision myself or anything I could do as even remotely activist-like. 

My self directed study, helped in no small part by the 1st hand accounts of my relatives and finding swathes of Black socialist/ marxist/ feminist scholars and activists living and working in the UK, informed me that the London streets I call home have some deeply radical roots. Created by Windrush generation activists, London was home to organisations such as; The British Black Panthers, Brixton Black Women’s Group (BBWG), The Indian Workers’ Association and The Organization of Women of Asian and African Descent (OWAAD). Originating from diverse political cultures they all campaigned against institutional racism and inequalities found within; education, employment, housing, immigration, health and policing. Today, Windrush Square in Brixton houses the Black Cultural Archives where the history of Afro and or Caribbean people from all over the UK  lives on in physical form alongside digital libraries and archives. I say all this to say that activism and racial justice movements are not exports from the States, in the same way that issues of racism aren’t. As mine and many other BLM protesters banners proclaimed: The UK Is Not Innocent!

The seminal words and actions of these Windrush generation activists shaped the discourse surrounding race and racism in the UK long before the horrific murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Aubery, the latest victims of police brutality in the US reignited the movement for Black lives. Their analysis gives us a robust and nuanced understanding of the  ways racism, sexism, queer and transphobia, classism, ableism and other forms of interlocking oppression intersect and  are leveraged as tools of power and control through which white supremacy and the cis-hetero-patriarchy are maintained.

The current momentum behind the UKs racial justice  movement is forcing us to consider how these tools are operationalised in every sector of society, including within Science, Technology, Economics, Maths and Medicine (STEMM) and we have spent the last few weeks discussing what racism in science looks like using blog posts and podcasts to guide our thinking.

Hopefully this post has planted some seeds for thinking about the specificity of allyship and activism in the UK. Equitable practice in Public Engagement with Science, involves communicating science by, with and for the communities we are trying to serve. In order to do that we must understand the context of their lives, their relationship to their identities and science. 

To get started, have a listen to some of the pioneers of Black feminist movements in the UK and US in conversation here and here and spend some time reflecting on how national or even regional contexts in the UK mean we have to adapt the ways we communicate science and incorporate anti-racist discussions.

Please feel free to share this post and your comments via @sciencelondon on social media ahead of part 2 which looks more specifically at the ways activism and science interact.

Science & Anti-racism. Part 3.

If you’re still reading, great. This post will be short so please stick with it. But... the process after reading the post will definitely not be short, as you’re probably already aware. Deconstructing racism is a big job because so much of our World is built around upholding it. Be prepared to try, get it wrong, learn more, and try again. 

So if many things about science and its history are racist, and if by being a part of ‘science’ without recognising and addressing its racism, you are complicit in upholding that racism, I guess that means we actually need to DO something. What would that look like? 

So what can I do as a scientist / science communicator? 

• Have difficult conversations with your colleagues / labmates 

Science will only change as a result of those working in it and outside it challenging each other (and science itself) to become more aware and more critical of it as a structure that reinforces inequality. So having difficult conversations is really important; both to open yourself up to critique from others, and to share your own awareness that science is problematic. 

These conversations could take many different forms, depending on how woke the people that you work with are. Maybe for now, the maximum they will be able to absorb is a reflection on the fact that science is majoritively made up of white men. Sowing this seed can make way for more critical conversations later that explore the idea that if we recognise that the people who conduct the science aren’t representative, then the resulting science isn’t neutral, and therefore action needs to be taken to rectify this. Or maybe you don’t even need to start the conversations, maybe they are already happening, and you just need to engage in them, or show your support (in front of other workmates) to those that are doing the work of leading the conversation. 

• Centre the voices of People of Colour, but don’t outsource the work to them 

Black and Minority Ethnic people need to be centred in conversations about racism and white supremacy. But centering voices is different to leaving the hard, and emotionally exhausting work entirely to People of Colour. If you are white and you feel that you don’t know enough about racism; rather than ask a Person of Colour to explain it to you, or expect them to take on the role of running a diversity workshop within your organisation (side note that this has happened to People of Colour I know and definitely does not fall into their job description) or to write your organisations’ new Inclusion policy, spend some time learning from the plethora of resources that already exist to educate yourself. It is emotionally exhausting for People of Colour to have to educate white people about racism. If you are white, there are many resources available online and in written / video format. You do not need to ask or challenge or play ‘devil’s advocate’ in conversations with People of Colour in order to learn, and you do not need them to go to the great personal cost of teaching you. Instead, do the learning before you engage. 

Once you’ve started the never-ending learning process, this links quite clearly to the point above - don’t leave it entirely to the People of Colour in your organisation to talk up about racism. Educating yourself is useful so that you can actively contribute to challenging others in your workplace, supporting Black and Minority Ethnic colleagues, and thus help to relieve the emotional burden of those conversations on them. 

• Think about your audience (or the people who visit/read about your lab/work) - how diverse are they? If the answer is not at all, then think why that might be. 

In the last post, I mentioned that lots of us in science / science engagement / communication care about making “science for everyone”, and as part of that we care about bringing science to a diverse audience. But maybe we don’t always think that critically about why our audience isn’t currently diverse. 

Could it be because our programmes are exclusive or irrelevant? 

Maybe the reason they are exclusive (even when we don’t want them to be) is because the people who work to put them together are dominant members of society and lack the understanding of what makes a meaningful programme for diverse audiences? 

Or maybe it’s because the institution itself is unwelcoming to People of Colour (due to its history/politics/employees) and doesn’t do anything beyond running free events to remove these barriers? 

The chances are, if your audience isn’t diverse then something about your organisation needs to change. Your audience is unlikely to change without some internal work or reflection. 

• Don’t hold grandiose sentiments that you are fighting racism ‘for’ anyone else.

As the Aboriginal Activists Group in Queensland said in the 1970s, and quoted by Renni Eddo Lodge in her podcast About Race, “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together”.

This is by no means everything, just a few thoughts. Critique is welcome, thank you for reading this series of blog posts. The following links might also be helpful: 

Anti-racism reading list 

White scientist checklist 

TigerinSTEM’s race/ethnicity resources

Science & Anti-Racism. Part 2.

This is written by Sophie, with support and critique from the Science London collective. 

Yesterday, we discussed the many ways in which science works to construct a racist World. The post was by no means exhaustive, but just used some examples to help those who need it to see science in a more realistic light that isn’t just about objectivity, reliability, fair tests and logical reasoning. 

So up until this point, we’ve been thinking more about recognising science as a racist system, but today we are going to think about the role we play in that system when we work as scientists, science communicators, public engagement people, or curators / programmers in science museums or galleries. 

So how is this relevant to my work in science, science engagement or communication? 

I am writing this post assuming that anyone who reads it is somewhat interested in the interface between people and science. In other words - I’m assuming that you either talk to people (could be your friends and family, could be public audiences) about the work you do as a scientist, or that your work is specifically aimed at increasing engagement in / visibility of science and its outcomes/impacts/issues/processes. 

(Yes, you’re right in thinking that pretty much includes anyone who is either a scientist or who works in any organisation that addresses science/technology in any way.) 

So my point is, that pretty much everyone who has something to do with science, also has a role in creating the way that it is portrayed to, and experienced by, other people. And actually, that is quite a big responsibility. This big responsibility is the reason why anti-racism is really really relevant to your work, because unless you actively attempt to identify and deconstruct the racism that is science, you are just reinforcing that system. 

Often, what lures people to working in science or science communication is the idea that science is “important to everyone”, that it’s “relevant to everyone” and so “everyone should engage with and enjoy it”. 

Even if you are trying to bring science to “everyone”, there’s a chance you’re doing it in a way that is actually excluding people from it. 

In your work, you must consider that everyone has a different relationship with science, a different view of science, and a different lived experience of science. And probably unsurprisingly at this point, those experiences, views and relationships are often impacted by race.

For example, if you are white and British (like I am) then science has most likely historically benefitted you, and has been designed around things to make your life easier. You will also probably know a lot of people who work in science, since science is full of white people and if you’re white then the chances are that a lot of your friends are too.  

But if you’re Black or Minority Ethnic, then the history of science might not be something that has always benefited you. Instead it might not have recognised your culture's form of scientific knowledge, or caused the deaths, harm and discrimination of people like you. You might see science as very unrepresentative of your community, unwelcoming and blind to your opinions, issues and struggles. 

If you work in science, science communication or science engagement and you’re not aware of these different experiences and don’t learn about and explore them, but instead put your effort into explaining that “science is everywhere” and “for everyone”, you are erasing the racist past of science, and in doing so, enabling it to continue to be racist today. 

So, unless you critically assess each of the events you run...

Who’s idea was it? Who was invited? Who wasn’t invited? Who was employed? Who wasn’t employed? Who volunteered? Who does it serve?

...or the work that you publish...

Who was the funder? Who wrote the application? Who’s on the team? How will the research be used? Who will benefit? Who will pay the cost? Who has already paid the cost in the past? Who is acknowledged?

… then your inherent blind spots (which, if you’re white are really big and numerous) will mean that this lack of critical engagement reinforces structures of racism. Something that I’m sure you didn’t set out to do - but something that you have to work very hard not to do. 

More thoughts coming later this week about the next step… and the follow up question - “so what do I do?”. We’ll be sharing resources, listening, reading material and opening up the conversation to get involved. 

Science & Anti-Racism. Part 1.

This is written by Sophie, with support and critique from the Science London collective. 

Before we think about how science, science communication and public engagement can be anti-racist, we need to think about how they are racist. That’s the focus of today’s blog post. 

Over the past 6 weeks, it’s like a magnifying glass has been held up to inspect the racist roots of the UK. Those roots are not just a part of our past, but are actively feeding our racist present. A present that I, as a white person, benefit from both directly and indirectly. Supporting the Black Lives Matter movement through being actively anti-racist means unearthing these roots and beginning the long process of dis-entangling them from the language, norms and culture of Britain. Which will be a long process. 

This week, as part of Science London’s overall aim to promote equitable practice in science and science communication, I (Sophie) will be pulling together resources and highlighting the work of People of Colour that can help to support scientists, public engagement and science communication professionals to stay engaged in the anti-racism movement, challenge yourselves and practise anti-racism in your writing, your meetings, your events, and the labs and elite institutions (because, let’s face it, they are elite) in which you work.

Why science and science communication? 

I’ve been thinking recently that racism in Britain is kind of like a huge spiders’ web; it might initially be hard to see for some people (especially those of us who are white), but once you notice it it’s literally stretching everywhere, and maybe you’ve even walked through it and it’s stuck all over you and as you try and pull it off more gets stuck on you. How can you start to disentangle yourself? Maybe a good approach is to think critically about how structural and institutional racism intersect with your life. 

That means that if you work in science or science communication, you should explore the role that racism plays there. This is *especially* important, since science education in the UK is extremely westernised and colonial, completely overlooks other forms of science, and instead focuses on the idea that ‘(western) science is objective’ which might influence us to think that something like racism surely can’t affect the research we produce or the way we talk about it. But it has done and continues to do so. 

1. Scientific Reasoning has been used to explain / justify / encourage racism

Far from being objective, science and scientists have literally justified and encouraged racism through ‘scientific reasoning’. Two examples. 

• Charles White, an English surgeon in the 1700s who argued that humans with different skin colour were different species. 

• American physician Samuel Cartwright, who used his medical understanding to describe how to keep slaves in submission in the 1800s. 

The list could go on much further, but I want you to get to the end of this blog post. Our ‘objective’ field of science has been used to enforce racism from as early as the 1600s, and white english scientists like Nicholas Wade and Richard Lynn are still using science in that way today. 

2. The science we use everyday has racist roots

Much of the scientific progress that makes our life what it is today is the result of horrific acts of racial exploitation. Through science, we directly benefit from the pain and deaths of Black people and other Peoples of Colour. Let that sink in. Failing to address the racist roots of western science means the science we learn at school, university, and through media remains steeped in racism. Here are a few examples to demonstrate the point, from research funding to cures and treatments, it’s racist. 

• The Royal Society is financed by the slave trade; without payments that came from the sale of Black people,The Royal Society might not exist in today’s Britain.  

• Modern gynaecology and the use of the speculum is only possible because enslaved Black women were forced to be test subjects in agonising operations without anaesthetic.

• Geology offers up lots of examples of structural racism. Diamond mining in South Africa in the 1800s saw white employees hired to manage Black employees that did the majority of the hard work - over 1000 Black people died and 5000 were hospitalised due to mining. 

• HeLa cells are a cell line which are used basically ubiquitously in medical / biological research and have played a huge part in countless discoveries, cures and treatments. These cells were taken from Henrietta Lacks, a Black woman with cervical cancer, without her knowledge or consent 6 months before her death in 1951. The propagation of the HeLa cell line is credited to George Otto Gray, a white man. 

3. There is a vast underrepresentation and under recognition in science and research today 

People of Colour, especially Black and Indiginous People of Colour are underrepresented in British science institutions today, whether they be students in lecture halls or PhD students, researchers, or even visitors in science museums. This is unsurprising since:

• Black scientists are much less likely to be awarded research funding than white counterparts.

• The Astronomy department at Yale has hired one Black employee. This was 25 years ago, and is still being used as an argument to prove that they aren’t racist?! 

• A study also shows that scientists with non-Western sounding surnames are less likely to be credited for research in articles and news outlets. 

So in short, if you’re Black, it’s harder to do the science you want to - and even if you do get to do it, it’s harder to get recognised for it. But it’s not even just the people doing the science or setting the research agenda that are unrepresentative, it trickles down to participants of research trials. So… if our trials aren’t tested on all people - just on a subset of humans who have white skin - then our science simply cannot be objective because it’s only exploring the symptoms / effects / experiences of a privileged subset of the population, who (if I didn’t already mention) have white skin. 

• In case you were wondering if this impacts the science and its findings. It does. Quick example: there are huge disparities between linked traits with asthma in white people and Black people. Overlooking this difference in research means that in the US African American children are 10 times more likely to die from asthma than white European American children. 

4. Structural inequalities that mean science reinforces privilege 

All of the points above help to build to one situation - a situation where western science is majoritively done by white people for white people. The experiences, arguments, and inquiries of anyone who isn’t white are sidelined. Of course, this reinforces the racism of science in one big ugly vicious circle: 

Being Black or Minority Ethnic makes it harder to succeed in science, because of the implicit and explicit biases of the scientific community; so the vast majority of professors, researchers, science teachers are white; because of this People of Colour might feel less welcome in scientific environments; further reinforcing the dominance of white people in these spaces.

If scientific spaces are full of white people, then our beloved ‘objectivity’, whether that’s in physical sciences, natural sciences or medicine, comes only from a white perspective, where white funders fund white scientists with white lab groups. This means that the research we produced is biased, this has tangible effects - which range from diseases and conditions that affect People of Colour receiving far less attention to technology, such as facial recognition not working for Black or Minority Ethnic members of the population. This reinforces privilege throughout entire populations, showing that racism in science trickles into the lived experiences of People of Colour all over Britain and the World. 

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So, if you needed any convincing, I think you should now be able to agree that science is racist. Which means that anti-racism is crucial for those who work in or communicate science. In another post tomorrow, I’ll be thinking more about why anti-racism is ABSOLUTELY relevant to your work in science communication, science engagement and/or research, and what this might look like.

Our Commitment

Science London reformed in January 2020, moving away from our roots as an arm of the British Science Association and finding our own way as a support and development network for scientists and science communicators to employ equitable practise within their work. 

Our first workshop on the 30th January focussed on barriers to access in science communication work. Run by Hana Ayoob, it critically explored why a lack of diversity is still an issue in science and science communication. Long story short, when we are thinking about science communication, science engagement and bringing science out of the lab, our audiences always have a tendency to reflect the diversity of our speakers and contributors. No surprises there, since contributors often set the tone, the topics - and therefore the relevance of their events, programmes and conversations. So it makes sense that if science budgets and priorities are set by, and primarily practised by largely white, wealthy, able bodied, powerful individuals, then science itself will serve those who reflect these characteristics most. 

As science communicators we often talk about wanting to ‘open up’ science, bringing it to those who might not ‘typically engage’, but this is a really hard task unless we critically assess all the structures, practises and assumptions that make up the western science that dominates our practise in the UK today. This is what we, at Science London, aim to address in our upcoming programming. What are our implicit biases? How can we actually engage in critical thought to dismantle them on a personal and institutional level? What does action look like? How does action differ between people’s views and between communities?On our journey to making Science London’s events regular, we encountered a series of global crises: a viral pandemic which pulled accessibility into stark contrast across the world;  groundswelling support for the Black Lives Matter movement following the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery, and many other Black folk at the hands of state actors. As a diverse team we were all affected differently by the pandemic and the unavoidable spotlight on racism over the past few weeks and months. We have taken time to reflect separately and together. Ultimately we feel that the work we set out to do to build on existing work and empower individuals to do equitable, anti-racist, inclusive and diverse science communication is vital, but that a thoughtful longterm response is crucial. 

We’ve collectively explored ideas ranging from running anti-racism panels NOW and paying people of colour to take over our Twitter NEXT WEEK as ways to elevate their voices. However we acknowledge the additional intellectual and emotional labour this creates for Black and Minority Ethnic* members of the science community and believe that the work, first and foremost, is ours to do and must sit within a longer term programme of activities and resources from Science London. We have instead worked to plan out a longer term Science London programme, that recognises structural and systemic change is an ongoing commitment and we must be responsive to the needs of the community.  

So starting from next week we’ll be enacting this programming. We begin by highlighting structural inequalities in science and science communication through content we have produced by pulling together, highlighting and recognising activists across science, technology and society. The things we share are part of our own process to challenge ourselves and the science we are a part of, and we hope that you will join us on that journey. There is no shortcut to transform science. The journey is long, difficult, uncomfortable, painful, exasperating. Science London will be working to digest information and share relevant thoughts, articles, videos, discussions to the science and science communication community and we look forward to and excited to hear your thoughts, challenges, critiques and discussions, as we develop together. 

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Science London is led by a volunteer committee, compensated by an honorarium. We strive to practice equitable, anti-racist, inclusive and diverse science communication practices as well as empowering members of the science communication community to do the same. We recognise that we are not experts, and that we are likely to be, and to have been, culpable of the very problems we seek to address, and we are keen to hear your thoughts on our work. We welcome your engagement - you can get in touch with us on Twitter, Instagram, or by email on info@science

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*There is much discussion in Summer 2020, building on historic debates about terminology and capitalisation, about different terms to use to describe disparate and wide ranging groups that are marginalised in our society. We have decided to use “Black and Minority Ethnic” in this instance, but recommend that specific terms are used where possible when talking with/about community groups. We are aware that there are discussions about different terms ongoing online, and highlight some of them below for your engagement. 

Using BAME and BME: https://civilservice.blog.gov.uk/2019/07/08/please-dont-call-me-bame-or-bme/

Rejecting BAME: https://shadesofnoir.org.uk/b-a-m-e-is-l-a-m-e/ 

Rethinking “People of Colour”: https://www.wired.com/story/rethinking-phrase-people-of-color/ 

Capitalising Black and not white: https://radicalcopyeditor.com/2016/09/21/black-with-a-capital-b/

https://www.theguardian.com/media/2020/jun/20/associated-press-style-guide-capitalize-black

Capitalising both Black and White: https://zora.medium.com/im-a-black-scholar-who-studies-race-here-s-why-i-capitalize-white-f94883aa2dd3?fbclid=IwAR1_PsfEJx0oOU5RNFXT1GM4tl39Fo2HlH4zxQ7qOyrn1cdGFujq7lEetfU