In the 1980s, the steps involved in a high school research paper assignment looked much different than today. Given a hot-button health topic of the time — perhaps the link between smoking and cancer or the emergence of HIV/AIDS — a student might peruse the stacks of a local library, question a doctor in the neighborhood, or lug an encyclopedia off a shelf at home. But today’s students, and most people in general, get their science information in quite different places: a story about artificial intelligence on their favorite news website or a video describing nanotechnology on TikTok.

These modern news sources apply filters to the scientific findings that decades ago would have only been gleaned from a book or heard directly from an expert. Today, science is viewed and analyzed through the lenses of personal beliefs, social standing, political views, and identity. And in the evolving terrain of media, news consumers gravitate toward sources expressing the beliefs and values that most closely match their own, and they get the bulk of their information from those outlets.

How do a person’s identity and values influence their choices of news sources? How do these personal traits affect their understanding of the scientific information their preferred sources provide? How can people who communicate about science cater to the various values and views of the public?

The field of science communication is asking all of these questions, and more. At CALS, researchers in the Department of Life Sciences Communication (LSC) aim to understand not only how the public learns about science but also how to form strategies to provide information that both teaches and resonates with an increasingly divided society.

“LSC is at the forefront of these efforts to understand the connection between science and the many groups in society,” says professor and department chair Dominique Brossard. “We’re looking for effective ways to both serve and learn from a public that comes from diverse backgrounds with many different inherent values and views.”

The Question:

How (and why) do science and politics intersect?

Science and politics converge in spaces around many issues, from climate change to artificial intelligence to food. Lawmakers need information about the relevant science to craft effective policies; and, when citizens vote, they often consider their candidates’ views on various scientific topics.

In recent years, the divide between conservative and liberal voters and politicians has seemed to widen into a chasm. But one topic that remains largely nonpolitical is space exploration.

“Space is one of the primary ways that many average Americans interact with science on a regular basis, and it is also distinctly nonpolitical,” says Michael Xenos, an LSC professor with expertise in the effects of digital media on political engagement and public deliberation. “Shockingly, it’s not an area that science communication research explores very often.”

Xenos aims to change that. He wants to look at why space and astronomy not only spark greater interest in science than other topics but also why the field has remained nonpolitical.

“This area of science has an almost pure basic science appeal,” Xenos explains. “So much of space is about discovery and answering questions about our universe. We rarely see political view- points applied to space exploration like we do in other areas of science.”

The question of why so many different people consume space news is just one of many that Xenos wants to answer. He also intends to explore the resilience of its nonpolitical position. Could space news be politicized? If so, how could that happen? While his work is just getting underway, early data suggests that space is a surprisingly resilient topic.

By understanding why space is nonpolitical — perhaps its fundamental nature, its historical context, the sense of national pride it instills — Xenos hopes researchers find lessons that might apply to other decidedly political areas.

“Space can tell us about the broader dynamics of politics intersecting with science,” he says. “We can better understand all types of politicized science topics by better understanding this topic that usually sees little political disagreement.”

On the other end of the spectrum of politicized science topics lies misinformation. Misinformation is incorrect or misleading information; and with the explosion of online news and social media, the term is often used in political circles. The COVID-19 pandemic increased the amount of misinformation lurking online as well as the need many people feel to correct or “cure” it.

In 2022, a U.S. Food and Drug Administration commissioner called misinformation “our leading cause of death” in the pandemic. For science communication researcher Dietram Scheufele and others in LSC, however, this statement raises some red flags.

“Our tendency in science is to look at the public as having something wrong with them or having pathologies that must be fixed,” says Scheufele, a professor and expert in political communication, science communication, and science policy. “We often think, ‘If they just had the right information, the same information we do, they would think like we think.’ That just isn’t true. Some of the most highly informed people are the ones who are polarized.”

For many years, several “deficit” models have been popular research topics in the field of science communication. First came knowledge deficit: If they knew more, they’d think like us, the scientists. Next came trust deficit: If they trusted us more, they’d agree with us. And now, as the spread of false and misleading information increases, the idea of the misinformation deficit has arisen.

“We’re again saying that if we can just get people the right facts, they will make better decisions. But none of these models are correct,” explains Scheufele, who is also the Taylor-Bascom Chair in Science Communication. “Two people can look at the same information, whether it’s right or wrong, and come to different conclusions. The same science means different things to different people.”

So if it’s not a matter of “curing” misinformation or other deficits, how can science determine policy? Scheufele says it can’t. While scientists might think the data are clear and should point in one direction, the process of making policy is complicated. A lot more goes into policy than just scientific fact.

For example, science can tell us that wearing seat belts and banning cigarettes will save lives and money. Yet we, as a society, have decided we will mandate seat belts but not force smokers to quit. Every policy decision is based not only on scientific evidence but also on values held by the public and lawmakers, economic opportunity costs, and other factors.

“In the policy realm — and other places — there are many actors that have equally important voices. They may not be experts on the scientific evidence, but they have other input,” Scheufele says. “And that’s where science can get into trouble. Science can answer many questions, and it should speak its answers confidently. But it won’t lead to one specific policy outcome.”

The Question:

How does social media change perceptions of science?

As people consume science and other news from more and more sources, social media plays an increasing role in informing their decisions. Many politicians and scientists engage with news consumers through social media. But political and scientific information can also come from less obvious sources, such as lifestyle influencers who produce aspirational content — content that conveys a consumer’s ideas of success or ideal way of living.

“A lot of social media influencers aren’t talking explicitly about science or politics, but they do address these topics,” says Sedona Chinn, an assistant professor in LSC who studies how individuals make sense of science claims. “A cooking influencer might tell followers they want to use non-GMO blueberries, or parenting accounts may talk about vaccinations for kids.”

In the eyes of their followers, two factors make these influencers reliable sources of information. First, aspirational content producers position themselves as experts. These influencers may not be experts on science, but if followers view them as experts in one area, they take the influencers’ general opinions more seriously. Second, influencers are relatable. They want to be viewed as someone akin to their followers, the neighbor you want to sit down with for a conversation or a meal.

These two factors lend credibility to influencers but not necessarily expertise. So it’s perhaps not surprising that studies by Chinn and her colleagues have found that aspirational social media use is associated with adherence to more inaccurate beliefs. In the science realm in particular, their research shows that those who consume more aspirational social media hold more unevidenced medical and wellness beliefs.

Many aspirational influencers also position themselves as at odds with traditional institutional experts, as alternatives to the academic or medical establishments. Along with that stance, these content producers encourage followers to “do your own research” instead of listening to established experts.

“In the pandemic especially, they started pushing the idea of doing your own research,” explains Chinn. “But how people perceive expertise is a difficult question, especially when they’re trying to navigate uncertainty, like we see in scientific topics.” In some cases, Chinn and her colleagues have found that the act of doing your own research and trusting those who lack expertise can cause people to distrust institutional experts — or even view experts as being in direct opposition to their group. That viewpoint, along with the idea that followers should only trust their own instincts, causes hostility and contention.

“Someone may come to believe that the institutions are trying to control them or intentionally mislead them,” Chinn says. “Those people will then not just ignore the experts but actively go against their advice. This reinforces the broader social divisions we’re seeing in our society now.”

Chinn hopes that understanding this dynamic more fully and finding the right messages for people who tend to trust influencers over experts could shrink the divides.

The Question:

How can communities and science communication help each other?

To understand what messages different groups prefer based on their values and views — as well as what information is even helpful to them — many researchers are going to the source. They are working directly with community groups to hear what is most important to them. Kaiping Chen and her colleagues are collaborating with underserved groups around Madison to understand their environmental concerns and the problems they face in their neighborhoods.

“In the past 10 years, I’ve been working with local governments and community groups to empower those who are underrepresented in the policymaking process,” says Chen, an assistant professor with expertise in how digital media and technologies affect political and public discourse. “Many of these groups are under-resourced while also being hurt more severely or more often by environmental consequences.”

In the summer of 2022, Chen and other UW researchers began to work with local Black and Latinx groups to organize in-person forums where community members can dialogue with local officials. At the events, participants talked about the environmental issues they see most in their neighborhoods and how they would like to work with officials to address those problems.

These forums created important networks and relationships while also allowing researchers to listen to participants and their concerns instead of bringing preconceived notions to the table. Another outcome was a website that allowed hundreds more community members who were unable to attend the forums to share their environmental justice stories. Users could pinpoint locations on a social map feature and annotate air quality, urban heat, and tree issues.

To consolidate community input gathered during the forums and information from the website, Chen and her team are developing a digital map application. The app uses data science methods to analyze the input and then visualize community opinions. “We call this a community knowledge map,” Chen says. “These community members are the experts on conditions in their neighborhoods. They know where the hot spots are or where more trees are needed. We can use this information for our work, and they can then use the data to advocate for policy changes in their areas.”

This two-way communication and collaborative work is crucial to Chen’s project. In similar ways, other LSC faculty are teaming up with communities in Milwaukee to better understand what and how they think about science.

“We want to know what emotional, intuitive connections different types of audiences have to science,” says Todd Newman, an assistant professor who focuses on the role of strategic communication in the context of science. “When you say science, or when you think about science, what comes to mind?”

Newman and Xenos are now collaborating with Black residents in Milwaukee. Black communities have substantial distrust of medical institutions due to historical mistreatment as well as modern everyday prejudices. Many Americans relate to science through medicine and health care topics, so if they have bad experiences with health care providers, their feelings about science might be negative too.

“We’re trying to understand the extent to which Black Americans’ lived experiences create a set of perceptions and understanding about science and scientific research,” Xenos explains. “We want to better understand the mistrust to try to find communication strategies that maximize engagement in Black communities.” Lived experience is the knowledge gained from direct, firsthand involvement. Research-backed data about how such experiences shape opinions about science are not common. But the information is critical. Newman and Xenos have begun gathering data through focus groups that allow intentional dialogue with community groups. They will continue that collaborative work in Milwaukee and later expand statewide and beyond with in-person work and surveys.

This project will give researchers insight into their own questions about the impact of lived experiences on perceptions of science. It will also lead them to what science topics matter most to Black Americans, in their neighbor- hoods and their lives, independent of what scientists or science communication researchers may want to know.

“We have to reimagine our approach so we can collaborate and co-create with communities,” Newman says. “Shared and lived experiences are important factors in communities’ engagement with science. We need to build these more inclusive approaches to science communication.”

The Answer:

Tailored messages are key to reaching people.

As science continues to change rapidly, politicians and people from diverse communities are looking for ways to navigate the uncertainty of scientific discovery and fold science knowledge into policymaking. Information for making decisions comes from endless news channels, social media accounts, online newspapers, and other sources. With all that potentially useful news, however, comes divisiveness, misinformation, and marginalization.

Science communication researchers in CALS, along with colleagues across the university and around the world, are working to lessen the divides and better reach those who need to make decisions for their countries, their neighborhoods, their families, and themselves. How can scientific messages be shared in a way that people will both care about them and benefit from them? For many researchers, the answer involves finding the right messages, catered to the beliefs and views of specific audiences, that make the information both consumable and relevant.

“We have to think about how to frame messages in ways that resonate rather than contradict people’s value systems,” says Scheufele. “Science as a community needs to actually pay attention to what people care about and be responsive to public input. We need to speak with the person, not to ourselves.”

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More from Life Sciences Communication
Grow magazine has highlighted work by other LSC faculty and students in recent issues.

• Art Brings Understanding (Spring 2024), featuring Nan Li
• Farmers Markets as Community Builders (Spring 2023), featuring Bret Shaw and Laura Witzling PhD’18
• ‘There’s No War on Science among the American Public’ (Spring 2020), featuring Dominique Brossard and Nicole Krause PhD’23

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This article was posted in Cover Story, Economic and Community Development, Features, Health and Wellness, Summer 2024 and tagged Dietram Scheufele, Dominique Brossard, Kaiping Chen, Life Sciences Communication, Michael Xenos, misinformation, outer space, politics, science communication, Sedona Chinn, social media, Todd Newman.