Storytelling

I am not a good storyteller.  I never have been.  Ask my brothers.  I'm the worst storyteller in the bunch.  Ask my friends.  I can pass along information with the best of them, but ask me to tell you a story and I'll likely leave you disappointed.  It hasn't stopped me from trying, though.

Storytelling is an important part of the human experience, anthropologists tell us.  Oral tradition played a huge role in the forming and defining of cultures.  Only recently have we seen a decline in the importance of oral tradition in terms of defining a culture (due to the rampant increase in literacy and the availability of reading material).  So while storytellers in the traditional sense are declining in popularity, we are still drawn as a people to stories.  It’s why the Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and the Narnia franchises are running strong and why the Transformers movies have become a bit of a joke.  It’s why soap operas have lasted so long.  It’s why M. Night evoked first praise and the later revulsion.  It explains why Rick Reilly can write great features and terrible features.  It’s even why we watch reality television (compelling characters and the excitement of the unpredictable).

Important note here: Proper storytelling must involve a strong grasp on the storytelling medium.  It’s why movie adaptations of novels are radically different.  Thus, while the basics of good storytelling are important across the board, the best storytellers know the strength and limitations of the medium they use.

So why am I telling you that I am a terrible storyteller?  It’s because in the past weeks, I’ve noticed that my colleagues exhibit varying degrees of storytelling ability.  In the summer, fellow graduate students give half-hour Power Point talks about their research.  You may think that, as a scientist, I should be exited and enthralled to listen to new findings, techniques, etc.  And I was.  However, after years of listening to talks, the excitement wears off.  I find that I now pay closer attention (read: stay awake and alert) to talks that either deal directly with my research OR are well-told stories.  I also suspect that this phenomenon holds true in most, if not all, professions.


The reason I say all of this is to encourage everyone reading to become a better storyteller.  Find a way to practice, whether it is making up a story to tell your kids before bedtime, making videos or podcasts, writing a blog, or just practicing presenting something you read.  Great storytellers are not only more likely to be successful, but enrich the lives of the people around them.

Science Fights!

So it's been a month and a half since I last blogged.  Way too long.  Where will I get my writing practice?  And where will you get thought-provoking material to help you make it through the day?  Well, enough of that, we're back to blogging!

Today's topic is "Science Fights," or, as the scientific community prefers, scientific debate.  Scientific debate can take place anywhere at anytime between two scientists, but is most frequently observed after one scientist gives a talk, presenting his hypotheses and data.  Such was the case for the science fight I witnessed today. 

This science fight took place at a departmental seminar between two professors.  And to be fair, the "fight" was much more of a debate than a real fight.  One professor asked his question (in a way that was sufficiently amicable and respectful, though not overly so) and the speaker (another professor) replied with his answer (which was not condescending, but was not full of understanding and compassion).  The debate continued back and forth for a while, as each professor worked their way through the semantics of the other and tried to convince the other of their correctness.  At the end of the discussion, I don't think either side was convinced by the other, but their points had been made.

...and this is all fine.  It is standard fare for a scientific debate.  The reason I want to bring it up today is twofold.  First, I want to discuss the feeling of awkwardness that many of the grad students likely felt, and the second is to discuss what I find to be more and more interesting, the personalities that make up the scientific community.

First, the awkwardness.  Why did this "fight" feel so awkward?  If it hadn't I wouldn't have labeled it a fight.  Part of it was the combination of the difficulty each professor had communicating with each other at first (semantics, etc.) and I think the rest of it came from having two respected individuals (in their fields) arguing over something.  This may be akin to the first time a child sees his parents argue over something.  It's a little unsettling.  And that can't be helped.  But should it be unsettling now?  Should I (or any scientist at that point) have even felt awkward?

This leads into our second topic, the personalities of the scientific community.  I think scientists, especially in recent years, have made an attempt to create the appearance that all personalities are welcome in the scientific community (I'm not counting laziness, dishonesty, etc. as personalities here).  However, it seems that some personalities are either more dominant or successful than others.  This is where I'd like your input.  I would posit that people who are competitive, confrontational, and somewhat obsessive tend to be over-represented in the scientific community.  Or, if they are not, they seem to be more active/visible.  What do you think?  Am I right?  Do these people make better scientists?

Let me know what you think.  I know I said I would have a video blog post, and I will have one before May.  If you have suggestions for a topic, please comment and let me know!