The challenges of communicating scientific information to the public

Nov 27, 2020 11:46:36 AM

Metro Manila (CNN Philippines Life) — When the residents of Palo, Leyte, struck by Typhoon Haiyan in 2013, were issued warnings from the local government, two locations responded differently to the same forecasts. Residents along the coast responded to orders from the local government, leading to generally successful evacuations. On the other hand, those in the poblacion closer to the town center were largely unresponsive due to tension between the community and local authorities.

These differences in the response can be attributed to what we call “disaster (sub)cultures“: ways by which communities and societies adapt to accommodate hazards through risk-mitigating strategies. A key idea behind understanding disaster risk reduction, these imply differences in community response and reaction even if they’re given the same information.

The process of understanding these social dimensions is but a small portion of the growing field of what is called science communication. Loosely defined as facilitating scientific dialogue between science practitioners, mediators, and the general public, it’s an attempt to advance understanding within communities. However, with only a few institutions offering science communication electives and even science journalism courses, the field is growing at a slow pace locally.

Lack of communication infrastructure

Slow progress in science communication is, in part, a product of cultural and structural barriers rooted in our country’s science and journalism training. “Comm isn’t a classroom setup,” says Dr. Inez Ponce de Leon, a science communicator and assistant professor at the Ateneo de Manila University. “The problem with assuming that comm and education are the same thing is that when you have a problem with communication, you usually end up trying to fix it by dumping more information. That’s not how it works.”

The outdated paradigm of a top-down kind of information dissemination (“You want to get the word out!”) excludes the “public” from participating in scientific matters, especially those that affect daily life. In her recent publications on disaster communication from Typhoon Yolanda and this lecture, Ponce De Leon expounds on how knowledge and awareness doesn’t always lead to action and change. “People can only take action when their outside environment supports that action… when there’s infrastructure that supports them.”

Mikael Angelo Francisco, the co-founder and editor in chief of top Philippine science news website FlipScience suggests systemic changes. He says to improve science communication, we must invest in its foundations: in better education, more research, better benefits and resources for teachers, alignment between the science agencies, proper training… the list goes on. “I just hope five or six years down the line, we won’t have the same problems,” he says.

The medium where the information is available also affects the process: as many members of the population still derive their information from T.V. or radio.

Educational materials — brochures, pamphlets, and even posters which are the expected output for “comm work” — may be insufficient, as these place the burden on the information without knowing the needs and responsiveness of the audience.

Only half of the Filipino population has access to smartphones and data on access to the internet is largely dependent on age, education levels, and class. Due to the digital divide, text alerts are often used to complement TV and radio broadcasting efforts.

By now, everyone is familiar with the vigorous shake and alarms from their phones when a typhoon is about to hit – it’s the emergency alerts from the NDRRMC. But what happens before this text gets sent out? BA Racoma, an PhD student at UP Diliman and the University of Reading, instructor at the Institute of Environmental Science and Meteorology at UP Diliman, and co-founder of ScienceChatPH narrates how the meteorologists generate the data, translate it into the standardized scientific terms, and relay it to the media partners and institutions such as NDRRMC. The institution then relays this information, along with suggested forms of actions, to the local community-based disaster risk management teams, where each local government unit is tasked to disseminate the information, interpret if the guidelines apply to their context and to act accordingly.

The context of Palo, the two communities had different disaster responses. One community did not understand the meaning of a “storm surge” and that a translation to a local language (“daluyong”) by the authorities would have helped them. The other community knew what a storm surge was, but had a different image of the devastation due to previous media coverage. This contributed to the differences in risk perceptions and unique disaster response of the communities.

However, Racoma emphasizes the difficulty in assuring that the authorities communicate the uncertainties of the information accurately, especially given how trusted local government officials are replaced routinely. “Dapat may trickle down pero mahirap kasi may gap pa rin… Parang natatangay din yung memory.”

Translating messages

Though the government utilizes a uniform text alert for disasters such as typhoons and even earthquakes, these are not always effective due to differences in language and literacy in the population. Efforts such as Citizen’s Urgent Response to End COVID-19 (CURE COVID) address these gaps by translating the information to regional dialects through a visual medium. When this happens, some information needs to be simplified, which helps in certain circumstances to increase access to the information. But these do not always allow for communication of the complexities of science. “The pitfall is in assuming that because something is in someone’s native language, they can already understand it. But the truth is, it doesn’t always translate to their reality.” says Ponce De Leon.

“Kahit masakit, at some point, may benefits to sacrificing scientific specificity para ma-properly communicate mo yung hazards,” says Racoma. He narrates the different considerations that must be made during a tropical cyclone: communicating window periods of landfall and the type of hazards communities may encounter, and making sure that people are not desensitized to information. “Sometimes, nakakatulong na binibigyan mo ng personality yung mga bagyo. Mga pangalan rin. ‘Hahampasin tayo ngayon ni Rolly.’ Pag ginagawang kwento, mas madaling naiintindihan ng mga tao… There are actually a lot of people who provide their interpretations of weather,” says Racoma, as he cites dedicated social media pages and groups such as Earth Shaker PH and Weather Manila.

Though the Department of Science and Technology (DOST) has a Technology Information Institute (DOST-STII), the efforts more recently are concentrated on digital platforms — webinars, Facebook posts, digital science libraries, and digital broadcasting — and there is no centralized regulation of science communication in the country.

With the local COVID-19 death toll still increasing and the Typhoons Rolly and Ulysses ravaging the country, science communication now has a more tangible hold on human lives. As the Palo, Leyte example shows, people use information to decide how to act within their given circumstances, and so the quality and truth of the information — vetted by scientific research — could spell the difference between life and death.

“When lives are at risk, it’s an injustice to expect science to be apolitical,” says Francisco. “You cannot give leverage to distruth… There are so many scientists who are generous and approachable and willing to share their knowledge with the world.”

SOURCE: https://cnnphilippines.com/life/culture/2020/11/27/science-communication-philippines.html