Ann: In the last year or more or so, science writers have had Twitterfights with a culture/media writer, a nonfiction writer, and a script writer. After the latest fight another science writer, the wise and civilized Dan Vergano of USA Today, Twitter-messaged me that he wished these fights would stop because they reinforced the walls around the science ghetto. “GUEST POST!” I said. “I’d rather make it a conversation,” he said. So, Dan: I never heard of the science ghetto. Does that mean I’m so far inside it I didn’t know it had an outside?
Dan: Ann is making a funny with her question. Her book, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science’s Postwar Elite is exactly the kind of look at the real-world intersection of science and militarism that I think matters more than one more story about a snub-nosed dinosaur.
Ann: Oh well then. In that case, I completely see the force and rationale in your argument. No — vanity aside for one second — really, I still don’t know what the science ghetto is. And what’s the problem with stories about snub-nosed dinosaurs?
Dan: The idea, and it comes from the redoubtable Tom Hayden, is that science reporting has largely become a secret garden walled off, and walling itself off, from the rest of the world. Instead of reporting on the scientific aspects of news stories — whether Iran really will have the bomb, whether Quantitative Easing will spark inflation, whether Peak Oil is a real concern — we write pretty entertainments about mummies, exploding stars and the sex life of ducks. All that stuff is great, but it is a news diet of ice cream and cookies without any sirloin. And it has contributed to the trade being regarded as a low-prestige, low-value part of news. Continue reading →
Oh, Chanel, you were such a tease. Maybe I should have figured that out from your fancy name, or from your Facebook page. When I look back, it’s not that you posted anything actually untrue, but you did get me all excited about your debut, your flowering, your signature scent. You were constantly updating the hours you were available; there was even a webcam to show what you were up to every five minutes. Looking back, it any wonder how worked up I was about finally having the chance to meet you?
