Six months ago, I sat curled up on my couch, wrapped tightly in my favorite oversized blanket, endlessly scrolling clips on TikTok. My eyes darted from snippet to snippet of people making music, creating art, and writing skits. Like many young people, I became addicted to the algorithm. I’d never been on a platform with such a mix of absurd and authentic content, and I wanted more.
What pulled me back again and again, though, was the ever present possibility that I could learn something new, something I would have never thought to even ask about, with every swipe of my thumb. And although some of the learning was shallow, much of it dove deep. I learned about the ecology of the Great Lakes, the music-making abilities of mushrooms, and the edible biodiversity in my own backyard. I learned about art-making with robots, printmaking techniques, and Inuit throat singing. Scientists taught me about the chemistry on Mars and the progression of climate change.
Pretty soon, researchers were inviting me into their labs through the intimacy of our screens. I sat next to them as they measured their SARS-CoV-2 antibody levels post-vaccine. I participated in their stem cell research, in their field collections, in their cell culture. They connected with me and made me want to come back again and again.
I felt like they were rewriting science--how we imagine it, at least--so I wrote about it. And wrote some more. And talked to TikTokers who are also scientists and music makers and teachers and artists. I learned so much from those conversations that I ultimately shared them with you. You’ve accompanied me deep behind the screen of our smartphones, into the digital landscape of TikTok, and out into the communities that these creators work in. Ultimately, I felt we all could use some closure and solid takeaways from what has been an eye-opening (and long) expedition.
**If you’re new here, read on for a summary of this journey in a section I’ve titled From the Beginning and come back to What We’ve Learned afterwards.**
What We’ve Learned
At the beginning of this journey, I wanted to know how we build public trust in scientific research.
Originally, I thought changing what science looks and feels like would have the most significant impact on building trust with non-scientists. However, my interviewees brought up far more important considerations that I had undervalued. Our conversations quickly turned from aesthetics to access, education, and community activism time and time again.
They showed us that TikTok can help us rewrite narratives in our own communities. We go on and learn. We connect. We find resources. We share tips about how to grab the attention of those around us, how to battle disinformation, and how to have open, authentic conversations. Ultimately, my obsession with TikTok drove me to look out into my community, and I know you can too. Here are some key takeaways to help you do just that.
For non-scientists interested in creating a fleshy future:
Biology is fun! Find the communicators that connect with you, and keep learning. We’re all learning together, and that’s one of the amazing things about the internet.
Talk to your friends and family about biology! People learn from those around them. You can help spread credible information, news, and your excitement with the people you know. Start with things they know. As an avid gardener, my grandma and I talk about gardening often. This is a great segue into larger conversations about biotechnology. It’s a mutual starting point for both of us.
Be aware of your own biases and learn how to sort through misinformation. We all have a responsibility to routinely examine the ways we seek out and consume information, and we must change our habits in order to limit engagement with misinformation. Luckily, we can learn how to do this.
Follow @scitimewithtracy to watch her debunk disinformation. She’ll also teach you how scientists sort through both media and scientific literature to find the truth.
Read this infographic on how to spot misinformation.
Keep in mind, not all published research studies were done well. Scientific knowledge is built on a consensus of lots of different studies that find similar results. Oftentimes, people use a single paper to push an agenda. When scientists draw conclusions, they review the results of dozens of studies, not just one.
Anyone can be a scientist. If you’re looking to become one, you just have to find the people that will support you. You aren’t “too stupid” to become a researcher. If you’re motivated to learn, you can learn how to be a scientist. If you’re worried you won’t find research interesting, know that people do research on all kinds of things. There’s bound to be one you’re passionate about.
Get involved, If you’re eager to build with biology! Involvement in creating our biological futures can happen in many public spaces: community bio labs, community gardens, makerspaces, art galleries, science museums, schools, after-school programs, summer camps, and public health initiatives. Many of these places are always looking for volunteers/members/employees, if asked.
For scientists:
Science is inherently political. Speaking as a fellow scientist, we need to recognize that this connection affects public trust in research. We have a responsibility to be transparent about research that gets funded with public money. This includes doing outreach work with those who will be impacted. To what extent though is up for debate. If you’re interested in doing more, you could
Livestream your research studies on TikTok or Twitch
Write for/reach out to local publications
Participate in community events (for example, Philadelphia is having a Vaccine Parade as a public health initiative)
Diversity matters. Research studies only answer the questions that scientists ask. More diversity leads to more diverse questions leads to better research studies leads to better answers.
Scientists are not better than non-scientists. It’s important that we continue dismantling the barriers between the scientific research community and the general public, not just to build trust with the public but to make research richer. This often means publishing open access. Sometimes it means collaborating with people who work in non-scientific disciplines, and it always means recognizing that non-scientists have a breadth of knowledge that we can learn from.
For educators:
I am not an educator, but the main thread from my conversations with people who are educators touched on these topics:
Integrate information finding practices into your courses and departments. Students aren’t learning how to effectively search for what they want to learn, to recognize the validity of the sources they find, and to deal with the consequences of spreading misinformation. My conversations with Tracy and Corinne provide some food-for-thought here.
Don’t be afraid to do things differently. Your students will learn more when they can apply what they learn to their actual lives and communities, which I’m sure you already know. Perhaps you can take inspiration from the variety of educational techniques being used on TikTok to help your students become educators and activists themselves, participate in real-world research experiments, or explore topics they actively want to learn more about.
From the Beginning
I started this journey desperately wanting to understand how communicators were reimagining what science looks and feels like. I was fascinated with the people making art, recording podcasts, directing films, and asking questions aimed at shaking up science-as-usual. I wrote about how scientists are tossing away their lab coats and their jargon, and how they’re ditching the sci-fi clichés, sterile labs, and power hierarchies to better connect with non-scientists.
And then I joined TikTok, where I saw scientists like @scitimewithtracy livestreaming for hours. Everyday. They’re mission: answer public health questions in a judgement-free zone. “Wonderful!” I thought. Now everyone has the chance to talk to and connect with a scientist, no matter where they live or what they do. Tracy generously agreed to chat with me about her TikTok obsession.
As a former college professor, she expressed her deep feelings of frustration that education has to change. Critical thinking skills need to be taught early and effectively, she lamented. People need to be aware of their own biases and learn how to sort through misinformation.
TikTokers have an enormous ability to influence how people access information, misinformation included. Their content shapes public trust in science by making information meaningful, accessible, and radically transparent.
In my first article published back in April, I proposed a radically transparent future. A future where research doesn’t happen behind closed doors. A future where scientists not only live stream Q&As but also their research experiments.
“Similar to musical artists, like HANA, livestreaming every moment in the making of an album, scientists will collect individual points of data in real time. They’ll build numeric chords and microscopic melodies for a rotating audience of curious eyes. They’ll leverage the power of digital platforms to humanize scientific studies, knocking down the barriers to information and rebuilding trust.”
To my surprise, a few weeks later I learned that scientists were already fulfilling this prophecy. I wanted to know more, so I sat down with Ella Hubber (aka @big_science_energy) to find out.
Ella live streams many of her research experiments on TikTok and Twitch. She pulls back the curtain to show people how research actually works, no matter how mundane. She taught us that anyone can be a scientist, if given the right support. She reflected on the fact that science is inherently political, and scientists have a responsibility to be transparent with their publicly funded research.
But how do we get people to those live streams and ideas? How do we get people to invest the first 15 seconds that will make or break those deeper connections? As I asked myself those questions, two charismatic artists provided me with some answers.
Nate and Hila (officially @nateandhila) are brooklyn-based musicians, filmmakers, performers, activists, philosophers, educators, and environmentalists. I know that sounds like a lot, but trust me, it makes sense. Their technicolor and stripped back videos, featuring inventive raps about ecology and etymology, are often absurd and provocative. And yet, they are deeply educational. I wanted to know what makes their educational videos so popular, so we got together to talk internet culture and edutainment.
In a few words, they showed us that nature is queer AF (as f$#k). That it’s terribly uncool not to compost. That nuance matters. That TikTok has the power to remake education, if developed correctly. And most importantly, that we all have blindspots based on our individual and group identities. Not everyone will connect with me and my science communication, and that’s fine. As long as we have a diversity of educators and creators, the important messages will reach everyone (and we’ll probably learn more from each other along the way). It’s a choir, not a solo.
But biotechnology isn’t just to be talked about online. It’s to be built. By all of us. So I reached out to one of my favorite community bio members: Corinne Okada Takara, and we chatted about science education and her community bioart.
Corinne beautifully described her work with San Jose teens and how she collaborates with them to create bio-based projects that battle climate change and issues of injustice. She taught us how to start open conversations about biotechnology:
“Why don’t we start with how we describe it from our own cultures, or how would your grandparents describe this? And then why? Then kind of have this generative, additive definition of things. Kind of shape the vocabulary together. I think we have so much success with that in BioJam Camp. Because it’s really a generative, additive thing. We let them know when we’re exploring content that we’re not teaching it to them. We’re kind of shaping it together. We invite them: ‘How would you do this better? How would you design this for your community?’”
Creating a shared dialogue together that could apply to anything from community gardening to vaccines.
Notably, she emphasized that many of the problems facing us today are large systems problems. You can only work on a tiny fraction of those problems as one person, so start small and build your community of support from there. Follow Corinne’s lead, and connect with the people in your own local community. Only with those deep connections to place and people will we be able to create an equitable and just biological future.
As always, check out more at my website, feel free to reach out with any comments or suggestions, and please share this with anyone who might enjoy it!