There’s a robust, diverse warren of science journalists across the globe who share our passion for the craft, but some must contend with the added barrier of media censorship. False balance in science writing can have unintended, deadly consequences. There’s never a bad time to reflect on your reporting practices.
These are just a few gems I absorbed from “Variants, vaccines and medications: What journalists need to know to improve COVID-19 coverage,” a three-hour webinar I attended live via Zoom on Jan. 27 (now available on YouTube). It was hosted by the Knight Center for Journalism in the Americas, part of the Moody College of Communication at the University of Texas at Austin, in partnership with the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). I was one of 770 attendees from 85 countries, according to a Feb. 1 blog post from the Knight Center. The majority of the webinar, as its name suggests, focused on the nitty-gritty of reporting on the coronavirus pandemic, directly correlating to my day job. But throughout the three, one-hour panels — all moderated by Deborah Blum, director of the Knight Science Journalism program at MIT — there emerged several discussions about the enormous responsibilities of science journalists and how we can better serve the public.
Encountering resistance is a daily hazard of being a reporter, whether from individual sources, government entities or other organizations. Over time, that’ll make a cynic out of anyone. That this free webinar was held at all is a pleasant reminder that there are health organizations that respect and are working to build positive relationships with science journalists; they want to help us get our reporting right. Namely, this webinar was funded by the World Health Organization and UNESCO’s Multi-Donor Programme on Freedom of Expression and Safety of Journalists.
In March 2020, within days of WHO declaring COVID-19 a global pandemic, “we started immediately conversations with UNESCO, WHO and UNDP (United Nations Development Programme) to find ways to assist journalists who suddenly had to cover a complex and huge health issue,” said Rosental Alves, Knight Center founder, at the start of the webinar. I’m grateful to benefit from their continued efforts nearly two years later.
When the conversation turned to using scientists as sources, I was struck by how my time in the Hopkins Science Writing Program has particularly transformed the way I interpret scientific research. How a study’s limitations and conclusions impact me differently now that I primarily report on public health and medicine. The words of panelist Federico Kukso, an independent science journalist from Argentina, stuck with me.
“We all know that science is a process, but sometimes I actually try to be more skeptic(al) regarding scientists who want to be in the media and have these big declarations,” Kukso said. “Even if they are Nobel laureates, we don’t have to rely on that. We have to rely on the evidence. … We have to be more critical, even regarding our own news organizations.”
Indeed, we as writers understand the scientific process, but consumers of our work may not, stressed moderator Blum. She called it a “culture clash” with the news media’s event-driven nature. She’s right. In my health beat I may write one breaking news story a week but tend to focus on 1,200-word features. However, even the bulk of that is event-driven or at least time-sensitive; evergreen stories have been a rare commodity of late.
“We could do so much better if we can make people understand the evolving nature of (scientific) knowledge,” Blum said.
It’s no secret that despite the good intentions of journalists worldwide, mis- and disinformation have spread like a poison. But in science writing — the COVID-19 pandemic in particular — disinformation can be deadly. (No joke, this morning I received an email from a reader saying my latest article on the omicron variant “has all of the despicable elements involved in evil mind control.”)
“Are you, as a journalist, aware and respectful of your power? Are you conscious of the power of your sources over you? Do you understand the power or lack thereof of the people and organizations you’re covering?”
— Gabby Stern, WHO communications director
In the past two years, “we saw that journalism — good journalism — was essential to save lives,” said Guilherme Canela, chief of UNESCO’s Freedom of Expression and Safety of Journalists section. “And, indeed, they were saved.”
Unfortunately, though, Canela reminded that if the pandemic were to end tomorrow, we science journalists would still have the obligation to fight disinformation concerning topics such as climate change, natural disasters and the next, inevitable pandemic.
WHO communications director Gabby Stern was a reporter and editor for 40 years. Drawing from her own experience, she rattled off a list of questions that journalists covering “matters of gravity,” including threats to global health and democracy, should ask themselves. Am I reporting and writing with an open heart and mind? Is this story a trivial “scooplet” or “real and important”? Do I understand the sources I’m covering beyond the veneer they present to the public? Have I put in the effort to go behind the scenes?
“I’m ashamed to say that I was something of a byline hound who should have had more humility and self-awareness, and worked harder to really understand and thus truly enlighten readers,” Stern said.
She later added, “Are you, as a journalist, aware and respectful of your power? Are you conscious of the power of your sources over you? Do you understand the power or lack thereof of the people and organizations you’re covering? … All of these are questions I failed to ask myself over decades of covering politicians, CEOs, corporations, government agencies and more.”
The diverse nationalities featured in the trio of panels alone reminded me that I’ve been working in Florida’s pandemic bubble, if you will. My mind knows that my counterparts across the globe are striving to protect and promote the health of their communities through science writing, but it was heartwarming to see and hear from them live. The panelists included Akin Jimoh, chief editor of Nature Africa in Nigeria; Kai Kupferschmidt, a contributing correspondent for Science magazine in Germany; and freelance journalist Jane Qiu in China, whose work has appeared in National Geographic and Scientific American, just to name a few. Panelists disagreed from time to time, but one sentiment wasn’t up for debate: Science writing is a privilege.
“We all need to hold ourselves accountable. … We can’t shy away from our responsibility to address the key issues,” Jimoh said. “Science journalists are the elites of journalism.”
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This analysis was written for Lindsey Leake’s 491.802 Thesis and Careers in Science Writing course at the Johns Hopkins University Krieger School of Arts and Sciences on Feb. 4, 2022.