The direct inspiration for this article was a piece (by a friend I won’t name) that complained about a “quantum increase” in something. The idea of a “quantum increase” or “quantum leap” is that at a sub-microscopic level, changes in the state of particles are discrete, not continuous. A particle’s energy goes from one level to another without going through intermediate levels. In other words, a quantum leap is the smallest amount of change possible. A lot of writers must think it means something else.
That’s just one of many scientific terms that get mangled in popular writing. Let’s look at a few more. (more…)
Writing about science is hard. To start with, it’s complicated. Scientists deal in concepts which most people outside their field don’t understand. Most of us have no more than a vague idea of what a boson is (my spell checker doesn’t even recognize the word) or what the difference is between a brontosaurus and an apatosaurus (they’re the same beast).
An even bigger complication is the way science works. Scientists accumulate information, form hypotheses, and try to find out if their hypotheses explain the data. If they do, hypotheses build up into a theory. The term “theory” doesn’t mean a tentative guess, as it does in ordinary speech; it means a set of ideas which is the best explanation available. (more…)
When you read the news, too often you find distorted and misleading accounts of the facts. It’s not “fake news” in the sense of deliberate fabrication, but the result of writers not understanding the issue, wanting to make it more exciting, or repeating errors which others have made for the first two reasons. I’ve been guilty of repeating erroneous reporting myself,
A video by Aron Ra shows how this works in reporting on paleobiology. He talks about an article that claims 800,000 year old DNA from Homo antecessor has been found.
The source was a respectable one, and its claims weren’t obviously impossible. He found multiple articles on the Web making similar claims, but only one of them provided a link to the original article in Nature. That article makes no claims about finding DNA; what was found was dental enamel containing identifiable proteins. That’s newsworthy enough to scientists, but not the same thing. Nonetheless, the report of hominid DNA four-fifths of a million years old even made it into the New York Times. (I hope I’ve got it right on whether that species is a hominid or a hominin. I think any member of the genus Homo is both.)
Ra says, “They were comparing dental enamel proteomes. What reporter is even going to know what that means?” He checked with some experts to confirm that proteomes aren’t genetic material. “They’re more like a genetic by-product.” Aside from the esoteric nature of the discovery, why did so many sources get it wrong in the same way? One reason is that “editors want to embellish everything to make it sound more interesting. Don’t ever do that.”
It’s good advice, but sometimes we get it wrong anyway. Reporting involves writing about things you aren’t an expert on. Sometimes you have to rely one another person’s explanation. But we should try to avoid making errors just to juice up our stories, and we should let our readers know when we discover our errors.