Defending Science - Why is no one listening?

How can we communicate science without neglecting our values ​​like diligence, accuracy, and nuance, and still reach a wider audience? In this article, we examine the complex translation process that requires clarity, empathy, and the courage to sometimes let go of familiar ideas.

The Secret to Being Heard: The Cathedral

Let’s consider a story we often use to illustrate a point in science communication. A traveler walks past a construction site where three workers are building a wall. She asks each of them, in turn, what they are doing.

The first says, “I’m laying bricks.”

The second says, “I’m building a wall.”

The third says, “I’m building a cathedral.”

The first mentions the specific detail he is working on, the second presents his weekly goal, and the third outlines the long-term goal to which his small contribution will contribute in the distant future. You can almost hear the organ playing in the background.

As a scientist, you often work on a single “building block” in this larger whole. Sometimes it becomes part of a wall, sometimes the whole structure collapses dramatically, and sometimes the building block transforms into something completely unexpected. That’s just how science is.

When you present your work, you first introduce your audience to the big picture and your vision. It might feel boastful at first to open such a big box, but if you don’t show the cathedral, you’ll miss the opportunity to draw the audience into the topic. They’ll quickly lose interest before you even explain the most important details. This is the main reason why scientists don’t get enough spotlight in public debates.

Different people are interested in very different things: An architect, a journalist, or a chemist will look at the same cathedral in completely different ways. The same applies to your audience.

Professional colleagues will be interested in the cathedral in much the same way as you are. If you explain to them why you worked on a particular brick, they’ll be happy to climb onto the scaffolding to take a closer look at your brick.

For laypeople, however, the cathedral requires a different approach. They’re less interested in structural calculations or mortar composition and more interested in why the building exists at all.

What does this mean for health, daily life, children, and the planet? Your cathedral should become tangible for people: concrete, comprehensible, and imaginable. It’s important to make laypeople understand what we do and why. Far too often, however, we focus on showing exactly how we proceed, which is often irrelevant to the audience.

It’s not about sensationalist oversimplification or cheap tricks, but about choosing the right approach for each audience. Once you’ve found that, the audience will follow you when you explain why your brick is important to the building.

The power of one

“The death of millions of people is a statistic, a single death is a tragedy.” When we go into detail about the brickwork, we naturally use formulas and statistics. But that doesn’t create an emotional connection to the topic. A simple way to get into a topic is to break down the larger problem—the cathedral—into a case study. So instead of: “In Germany, x people die from this type of tumor every year,” say something like: “Patient Patrick W. suffers from a rare variant of the brain tumor. For the first time, we now have the opportunity to help him. I would like to show you how we do this.” The concrete case study not only provides an emotional connection. It is cognitively easier to understand an individual case and then derive a general rule than the other way around.

Don’t strive for completeness: The ABT structure

Even with a suitable cathedral and a relatable Patrick, there’s another pitfall: scholars love completeness like cats love cardboard boxes—instinctively and without remorse. Completeness is the enemy of clarity. The audience doesn’t need every brick, every wall, or the entire construction history stretching back to the Middle Ages. They only need the section that supports your core message.

The ABT structure helps you with this: And, But, Therefore.[1] And: We already know X and we know Y. But: But we don’t yet know Z. Therefore: Therefore, I set out to find Z in the following way. The ABT model gives your story backbone. You describe the scene (And), introduce tension or conflict (But), and then reveal the consequence or resolution (Therefore). This simple pattern is used to pique people’s curiosity so they listen to us instead of checking their emails.

The voices of scholars often don’t get the attention they deserve. This is due to many factors, one of which we certainly control: effective communication. Capture your audience’s interest with a well-chosen cathedral, which can be presented as a unique case study. Build suspense using the ABT model and tame your inner critic by not attempting to provide a complete scientific proof in every inappropriate situation.

[1] Randy Olson: Houston, we have a narrative.

This article is the second in a series and examines the role of science in society in broad terms. Subsequent installments will address the tools available to scientists who communicate effectively and make a positive contribution to our society, as well as the potential pitfalls.

This article was first published in Nachrichten aus der Chemie (issue 02-2026). See here the German original.

If you´re interested to learn more about how scientists can interact with a lay audience, you could check out our workshop Public science outreach.