We marched for science

I’m a homebody. Most Saturday mornings are complete with tea, reading blogs or fiction, and getting in a good workout. This Saturday was different, and I’m glad it was.

The March for Science has been in the works for a few months. During that time, people have debated whether it will exacerbate political divides and whether scientists should be political activists; plans grew for satellite marches in over 600 cities around the world; and so many people mobilized to attend a march or support scientific causes.

I prepared by reading and thinking a lot about the role of science in society and potential consequences of marches and science-driven activism. My tentative conclusion from that reflection period was I’m in. I crocheted hats, designed a poster, and chose my wardrobe.

It was a cool experience to be in a place with tons of people all driven there by a common belief that science is crucial and a common priority to express that belief. It was fun to see creative signs, to come together with others in my department, and to hear some of the organized talks (especially those given by the middle school science fair winners – their projects sounded amazing!). But what blew my mind the most was the fact that people all around the world, from so many backgrounds, with different beliefs, opinions, and ideas, united around a cause that’s so much bigger than any individual person or country.

Let’s keep this going.

I wish I could carry 20 posters at the March for Science

This Saturday, science-lovers in over 400 cities around the globe will be marching for science. I’ll be marching in San Diego with friends and colleagues (and many strangers). This march takes a lot of planning — of course at the macro level, orchestrating an international (or even local) event is massive — but also at a much more micro level, for the people involved.

My first stage of planning was to read and think a lot about the march — the goals of marchers, the message it might send, and its downstream consequences. I worry that it will be perceived by some as a coastal elite and liberal rally against Trump — and for some marchers, it probably will be that, but I see it as an opportunity for us to celebrate science and affirm that it’s important in our lives. I also know the March for Science (DC) organization has experienced a lot of internal mayhem, and many of the original organizers are no longer with the group because of disagreements with the way the organization has proceeded. This march is not a cure-all. It will probably offend people (unintentionally, I hope), and we should actively work to avoid offense, but I am optimistic that the benefits of coming together for science can outweigh the inevitable negative aspects.

So I’ve decided it’s an event I want to be a part of. Next step: planning logistics.

I have an important wardrobe decision to make. I own so many great science t-shirts, but I have to choose one for the march. I’ll also wear one of the science hats I’ve crocheted (I’ve made 38 so far, so hopefully I come across lots of hatless marchers). I haven’t yet hammered out these wardrobe details.

 

I also have to decide my primary message for the march: What will I put on the poster that I carry? I’ve organized an event for people in my department to make posters together tomorrow afternoon, and I decided I should do some research to provide people with inspiration. What kinds of messages will be most productive? The San Diego march team created a helpful guide for poster messages. A quick Google search provided so many clever and seemingly effective poster possibilities that I’m nearly overwhelmed. Here are a few of my favorite messages (I’ve remade my own visuals with the help of Canva but borrowed the messages from around the Internet).

 

Stay tuned to find out my eventual wardrobe and sign decisions. There are so many great possibilities, and I’m looking forward to seeing the many ways that marchers express their love and commitment to science.

 

 

 

 

The Language of Twitter

Technology is well-known (at least in linguist circles) for giving rise to new language. New innovations require new words, but those words are often quickly repurposed from their original parts of speech. For example, we can receive an e-mail (noun), but we can also straight up e-mail (verb) someone, and I think I’ve heard people refer to e-mail (adjective) messages (those are probably people who grew up with the idea of some other kind of messages for a while before they were introduced to the e-mail, though). Similarly, we have text (a group of words), a text (noun – a book, or, more recently, a text (adjective) message), and we can definitely text (verb) people. Instead of creating nouns, adjectives, and verbs for new technology concepts, we often create one word and use it for whatever parts of speech we need.

Twitter language

Social media platforms tend to also have their own niche linguistic habits. Twitter and Twitter users have introduced lots of new terms – for example the verb tweet as a thing humans can do while at a computer (with its accompanying noun — the tweet). Tweet is “productive,” in the linguistic sense that it can be combined with other morphemes (meaningful word parts) to make new words: there are retweets, subtweets, and tweetups.

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2010, seriously!?

Of course there’s also the expansion of the word hashtag (into something people now say verbally preceding pretty much anything they want). In fact, the primary definition of hashtag seems to be the Twitter sense now, with the actual symbol taking on the secondary definition.

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Plus, Twitter’s strict character limit encourages lots of esoteric abbreviations, bringing about lots of new elements of language. Sometimes, scrolling through my Twitter feed I’m reminded of the experience translating sentences from Latin — I’d figure out pieces one at a time, not necessarily in a logical order, and put them together, to hopefully reveal something meaningful.

Lately I’ve noticed a few especially cool linguistic inventions on Twitter that I think result in part from character restrictions, and also because even though most people’s Tweets are public for anyone on the Internet to read, conversations often include people with a lot of common ground. They may not even know each other IRL, but they follow similar people, communicate about similar topics online, and maybe share some background experiences.

First, an important mention: The people I follow on Twitter are not representative of the population of Twitter users. When I compare my Twitter followers to all Twitter users, there are some pretty striking differences. For example, a greater percentage of my followers are between ages 25 and 34 than the Twitter population at large.

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Similarly, my followers are much more interested in a handful of related topics than the whole Twitter population:

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These demographics should provide some context for the linguistic innovations I experience on Twitter.

#NotAllMen

First, the nature of hashtags on Twitter has kind of coerced these 3 words into one, as it often appears as #notallmen without caps to distinguish the component words. #Notallmen means what it sounds like. When someone says something negative about men, someone might reply with the reminder that not all men (#notallmen) are sexist (or whatever the original claim was — usually sexist). But I usually see #notallmen take on a more meta meaning, a way of pointing out that replying to some instance of sexism with “not all men” distracts from and avoids the problem (i.e., “Men who disguise their own hurt under #notallmen – into the bin with you”). Here, #notallmen is a noun.

But it can also be an adjective: “In my dream last night I was dating a #NotAllMen boy I went to high school with…”, “walk off your #notallmen instincts dude”, and “I wish guys put all of their angry ‘#NotAllMen!’ energy into just.. actually not being one of those men.” I know there must be verb uses of #notallmen out there, but I’ve yet to stumble upon one…

One other cool thing is that I see #notallmen in lots foreign language tweets — for example “Pero en este punto los hombres se vuelven víctimas y debemos dedicarnos al #notallmen para no herir a aquellos que “aman a las mujeres”.” To my eye, that looks like: “Spanish Spanish Spanish #notallmen Spanish.” (If you’re interested, Twitter translates it as: “But at this point the men become victims and we must dedicate ourselves to the #notallmen to not hurt those who “love women”.”)

#WellActually

#WellActually is #NotAllMen’s cousin. I admittedly don’t always understand how people are using it, but I do often see it to indicate that someone (most often a man) is correcting someone else (most often a woman). Sometimes it’s used to call out a man-splainer (as the man-splainer is likely to say “well, actually…” to a woman), but I’ve also seen it used to refer to correcting people in general: “I got to #wellActually one of the people interviewing me and it felt gooooooooodddddddddd” or “sorry to #wellactually.”

Like many of the other terms I’ve described, #WellActually can take on whatever part of speech its user needs. It’s often a verb (“Got a BALD MAN in my mentions trying to #WellActually me”), but can also be a noun (“Cue the glasses being pushed up and the ‘#WellActually'”) or an adjective (“Alright, #wellactually twitter. I see you never waste any time.” or “#WellActually twitter came really hard at the people trying to revel in the magnitude of this upset, huh?”). Well actually, I’m not completely convinced that #WellActually is describing Twitter in that second example. It might be an instance of using the hashtag for the actual words “well” and “actually,” which are… an interjection and an adverb? Someone can #WellActually me if that’s not right.

I love the content that I find on Twitter, but I can’t help paying attention to the way people package the content — which words they use and how they use them. The more I pay attention, the more I remember that people are clever, and language is one of the many ways they let that cleverness out.

Cognition at Work: A Celebration of CogSci Designed & Executed by Undergrads

This past weekend I was invited to present at UCSD’s Cognitive Science Student Association‘s annual conference. The undergraduate CSSA leaders pulled off a polished and fascinating conference, focusing on the role of cognitive science in all kinds of work, from design, to mental health, to academic research.

In the first half of the workshop I gave, they asked me to talk about my journey to cognitive science: how did I discover I wanted to pursue CogSci, how did I end up at UCSD, and what might lie ahead? This is a fun story to tell. It includes growing up in a tiny Massachusetts town with fascinating identical twin sisters and supportive parents. It also includes my undergraduate years at Vassar College, where I accidentally found Cognitive Science and took classes that truly nurtured my intellectual side and inspired me to learn more. I discovered UCSD’s unique Cognitive Science program and was dead set on getting in — and somehow I did. I’ve been having a blast researching the relationship between language and the mind, working with brilliant people, and exploring other intellectual interests. I talked about the essential skills for doing a PhD, and in response to the question: “what next?” I was honest: I don’t know! But I expect it’ll be exciting. Here are the slides from that portion of the workshop.

The second half of the workshop was focused on my Cognitive Science research. The two Research Assistants who have helped me collect data on the projects I wanted to share (David and Yahan) also helped me give the talk. I’m SO proud of the work they put into this project and the presentation, and I’m confident they inspired other undergrads in the audience. David and Yahan showed them that undergraduates can do great research AND communicate about it (which can be just as hard as the research itself!).

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David, Yahan, and I show our work.

Here’s a more legible version of our poster.

I left the conference feeling energized, and I hope many of the attendees did as well. It was a unique conference since most attendees were not there to promote their own work (since they were mainly undergrads). Of course there’s nothing wrong with academic conferences where promoting one’s work is a goal, but at this conference, attendees’ primary objectives were to learn, be inspired, and think about CogSci outside their classes. To me, it was a celebration of CogSci, and a great reminder of why I work in this really cool field at this really cool university.

Notes from The Undoing Project

Michael Lewis’s recent book, The Undoing Project: A Friendship that Changed our Minds, has received a lot of positive reviews. Others have written (and podcasted) extensively about the contents and merit of Lewis’s book (I especially like the NYT’s focus on the author and Kate Vane’s focus on the interwoven features of the story). There are plenty of places to find a great synopsis or commentary on the book, so I’ll just share some reflections on a few of my favorite quotes from this chronicle of the lives and collaboration of two scientists who introduced to the world many fundamental ideas about how humans think.

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Danny would tell his students: “When someone says something, don’t ask yourself if it is true. Ask what it might be true of.” That was his intellectual instinct, his natural first step to the mental hoop: to take whatever someone had just said to him and try not to tear it down but to make sense of it.

This strikes me as excellent advice for so many of us. In particular researchers often set out to evaluate a hypothesis, design and carry out an experiment to test it, and end up with data that don’t really speak to the hypothesis. They’re messy, but there seems to be some signal in the noise… they tell you something, but not what you had intended. Maybe this is especially true when you study humans. Either way, this is the point to step back and ask what you can learn, even if it’s not what you wanted to learn. I’m still working on this.

Danny’s advice to ask what it might be true of also seems to be good advice for communicating science more broadly. When communicating to someone with different background experiences and beliefs, if they express a concern like scientists are still uncertain about global warming, communicators will probably be tempted to quickly react: That’s false! It’s not true on the whole, but you can find the truth in it by recalling that there is actually uncertainty about details of the consequences — when, where, and what kinds of catastrophes will strike. There is not uncertainty among scientists that global warming, if left inadequately addressed, will be catastrophic. It’s just the catastrophic details that are unclear. Acknowledging the specifics of uncertainty in this case seems likely to help communicate the falseness of the claim that scientists are uncertain about global warming without alienating an audience.

The only way to understand a mechanism such as the eye, [Danny] thought, was by studying the mistakes it made. Error wasn’t merely instructive; it was the key that might unlock the deep nature of the mechanism. “How do you understand memory?” he asked. “You don’t study memory. You study forgetting.”

Isn’t this how we all come to understand ourselves better? Introspecting about the unideal — Why did my heart rate and breathing speed up during that conversation? Why was I rude to that person on the phone? Why do I want to be somewhere other than where I am right now? — I have come to know myself much better than by dwelling on picture-perfect moments.

The point of bothering to discover this was unclear, even to Danny, except that there was a demand for such stuff in psychology journals, and he thought that the measuring was itself good training for him. “I was doing science,” he said. “And I was being very deliberate about what I was doing. I consciously viewed what I was doing as filling a gap in my education, something I needed to do to become a serious scientist.”

My dissertation in a nutshell: I’m not always sure why I’m investigating the things I am, but I am always confident that doing so is helping me become a better scientist and a better thinker.

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Danny Kahneman in 2009, Image by Eirik Solheim. CC

“The idea that everyone is entitled to his/her opinion was a California thing—that’s not how we did things in Jerusalem.”

Lol.

The secret to doing good research is always to be a little underemployed. You waste years by not being able to waste hours.

Good research can happen when you have time and space to think. Cramming your life full of meetings and obligations may feel productive, but is more likely to lead to incremental progress, not true impactful work. I am still working to internalize this advice.

“Because metaphors are vivid and memorable, and because they are not readily subjected to critical analysis, they can have considerable impact on human judgment even when they are inappropriate, useless, or misleading,” said Amos. “They replace genuine uncertainty about the world with semantic ambiguity. A metaphor is a coverup.”

Yes, yes, yes, but I’m unconvinced about the use of a coverup as a metaphor for a metaphor (meta, I know). Metaphor is a pervasive and unavoidable feature of human language and thought.

And with that comment, I have just engaged in confirmation bias and justified my own line of research. Back to research!

What does it REALLY mean to do cognitive science research?

This week I responded to this question with the help from Richard Gao, a fellow UCSD Cog Sci blogger. We discussed what cognitive science research looks like for us — the kinds of questions we work on and the methods we use to address them. The post also gives readers a broader sample of research included under the cog sci umbrella and the overarching ideas that unite such diverse research topics.

Check out this post on The Q!


Featured Image: Wikimedia Commons

Hurdles to Communicating Science & Strategies to Overcome them

Communicating science is hard in part because doing and understanding science is hard, but there are also some unique hurdles that science communicators face — especially when communicating information that’s relevant for policies. James Druckman recently described some of the challenges that particularly face people communicating policy-relevant science, and ways those challenges can be minimized.

Value-laden diversity

We all have values, relatively unchanging beliefs that reflect the way we see the world. For example, some people are more “individualist,” while others are more “communitarian.” If scientific information seems to contradict a value, we’ll be hesitant to accept that information. Information about climate change, especially if it contains or implies suggestions for reducing the problem by increasing regulations on businesses, might contradict an individualist’s values, making it hard for that person to even consider the scientific information. For more on this hurdle, see Dan Kahan’s work on The Science of Science communication, an earlier post on this blog about Kahan’s work, or a great post by Chris Mooney on Mother Jones.

What to do about it

First, communicators have to recognize that their audience will have a diverse set of values, some of which will conflict with the communicator’s values, and that these values will influence the way people receive scientific information.

Next, communicators should minimize the extent to which their message contains a value commentary. In other words, they should make sure the relevant science comes into play for certain policy decisions without defining “good” or “competent” decisions.

Motivated Reasoning

Motivated reasoning (or confirmation bias) is our drive to seek information that reinforces our prior beliefs and disregard information that does not. For example, in work by Duckman & Bolsen (2011), participants initially indicated their support for genetically modified (GM) foods. After 10 days, all participants received 3 types of info: positive information about how GM foods combat diseases, negative information about their possible longterm health consequences, and neutral information about their economic consequences.

People who initially supported GM foods dismissed the negative information and rated the positive information as valid, and perceived the neutral information as indicating benefits of GM foods. People who were initially opposed to GM foods did the exact opposite: dismissed the positive information, considered the negative information as valid, and interpreted the neutral information as indicating drawbacks of GM foods. Work on motivated reasoning shows we interpret information through a lens laden with our prior beliefs.

There have been lots of great articles highlighting motivated reasoning lately. These include Why Facts don’t Change our Minds, This Article won’t Change your Mind, and Why You Think You’re Right, Even When You’re Wrong.

What to do about it

When motivated reasoning occurs, people are motivated to understand information in a way that aligns with their previous beliefs. Instead, science communicators want to motivate their audience to understand new information in a way that will lead to maximum accuracy. There are a few things communicators can do to encourage people to seek accurate understandings:

  • Show that the issue and information matter for the individual’s life. Show relevance.
  • Present information that comes from a variety of sources, preferably ones with different goals (i.e., from Democrat and Republican sources)
  • Encourage people to explain their position to others (or at least prepare themselves to explain their position). Elaborating on your position requires people to think it through more carefully, and provide explicit evidence for their claims that goes beyond “because I want to believe this.”

Politicization

This term does not mean what we might expect given its name. Politicization is “the inevitable uncertainties about aspects of science to cast doubt on the science overall…thereby magnifying doubts in the public mind” (Stekette 2010, p. 2). It’s not exactly misinformation, since it doesn’t introduce false findings, but instead magnifies doubt. It’s especially common in issues about global warming and vaccination. People who politicize these issues send the message that scientific evidence on these issues is not as conclusive as it’s been made out to be.

What to do about it

Politicization comes directly from people perceiving scientists or informants as lacking credibility and being motivated to reason in ways consistent with their prior beliefs. Thus, politicization can be countered by addressing those hurdles – establishing credibility and encouraging an accuracy motivation. There are a couple other things we can do to overcome this hurdle:

  • Warn people of politicization they’re likely to encounter before they encounter it. This is sometimes referred to as an inoculation message, and it points out the strategies politicizers use and why their message is not to be trusted
  • Correct politicized messages after people have encountered them. Corrections are often not as effective as inoculation messages since people may have already had time to process and begin to believe the politicized message. However, corrections can be effective when people are motivated to reach an accurate understanding.

There’s more

Of course, these aren’t the only hurdles to communicating policy-relevant science. Other hurdles described by Druckman that I haven’t elaborated on include: communicating policy-relevant science requires effort on the part of scientists, getting and maintaining attention, establishing credibility, and changing government inaction.

More and more scientists are recognizing the value of communicating their science outside the Ivory Tower. At the same time, the science of science communication is advancing to help us all understand the hurdles we face and how to best overcome them.