A clue is Channel 7. Recently it brought back Beyond 2000, originally invented by the ABC, and immediately scored big audiences: 1.3 million, fine for Australia. Yet, after only two seasons, it's gone. Why?
The answer is that science journalism, like science itself, requires investment both in time and money. Without research, experience and a critical mass of qualified journalists the show quickly collapses. Public broadcasters, until recently, have been willing to pay the required bills. Now, just at a time when the world faces monumental problems requiring scientific answers, the field is on its knees.
There are two reasons for this.
First, one is attacked personally for having some kind of high profile and for trying to face general questions beyond the detail. Take Robert Winston, professor of medicine and presenter of several TV series. He says, 'It was a serious issue for me. When I started doing television on a big, popular scale, I was completely ostracised by my colleagues and it was really unpleasant. So much so that I was determined to give up doing television. I thought, this is not worth it...'
Some of us are delighted he persevered.
Second, despite what seems like public recognition (I am supposed to be a ‘Living National Treasure' for God's sake!) the reality is slim pickings. I do three programs a week on national radio, 52 weeks a year. What kind of resources might be needed to maintain such an output? Researchers, reporters, locums on stand by? The answer is zero. I have one full-time producer working on The Science Show and part-time producers for the other two shows. The odd freelancer provides an occasional report. That's it!
By ABC Radio standards I'm treated well. Imagine what it's like for my colleagues. So why put up with this? Because, without maintaining the airtime for scientific ideas, these windows too, would close. We have repeatedly warned that veterans such as Norman Swan and me (with 60 years of broadcasting between us) will not go on forever and need youngsters hired to succeed us, but the response has been Siberian.
Could science on air go extinct? Well, the ABC Natural History Unit, where we made Nature of Australia and Wolves of The Sea, closed in August. For many years it had no production budget. The ABC's ‘standing army' of TV staff, with no programs to make, has long been an embarrassment. Outsourcing may free up funds, they say. But where will the expertise come from? The point about public broadcasters is that, from David Attenborough to Adam Spencer, from Norman Swan to Jonica Newby on Catalyst, they provide a thorough training ground for both skills and innovation. This may and does happen outside as well, but does anyone really know how much we can rely on the independent sector to take over this role? Whenever I look around Australia for young and willing science communicators ready to grab the baton I'm left floundering.
Meanwhile, in a way, we are being set up to fail. The work expands relentlessly, as ‘platforms' multiply and more, much more, has to made of your material, on webs, nets, blogs and co-pros.
As for my own books, slim as they are, they have to be done on the run, usually in a handful of weeks.
I was dumbfounded the other day when a commission I had received from an academic source, a book review I had done of a biography from America, came back asking for page references. This was over 18 months after I had sent it in, bang on the stated deadline. Can those dons really need as much time as an elephant's pregnancy to cope with each small opus?
Oh such luxury!
There is a third impediment to writing popular science with global or futuristic implications. Personal attacks. I once asked Jared Diamond at his office in Los Angeles how he dared do portmanteau works such as Guns, Germs & Steel or Collapse. He replied that he had completed his lifetime's bench research and could now go forth boldly, without fearing his academic career would be wrecked. Tim Flannery, his Australian equivalent, is similarly placed.
Both have been attacked for their big picture offerings. My own are smaller and more humble, provided as introductions to more hefty works by big ideas guys.
Shooting messengers is easy. What is far more difficult is coming to terms with the reality that science and the future are suffering a criminal neglect. While some of us try to maintain an output to match the urgency it's easy to miss what's happening. Flannery, Swan, Dr Karl, and Winston represent a fading generation. The real future should belong to fresh voices. Where are they?
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