Improving science communications with improv

In another life I was a science communicator, working with scientists to help them tell the story of their work. This was at a time when story and science was rarely in the same sentence, when enthusiasm for the work was tempered by the protocols of research, and when everything was told in the third person. I guess not much has changed.

And if I had known about improv (improvisational theatre) back then I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have had the courage, enthusiasm and conviction to use improv in my work and in training. Not so today.

This video shows Alan Alda taking a communications class with scientists and using improv theatre games to help them connect with their whole bodies, with their story and to allow their natural enthusiasm for their work to emerge. The before and after clips are very telling. I particularly liked this comment: “It’s much easier when you make it up, then when you write it up the night before.” Of course, she wasn’t referring to making up the story, rather to improvising the story and sharing her message. I think it’s important for all of us to share our messages, rather than just information. Messages affect us emotionally, and can be supported by data and information. But you are unlikey to change my mind or get buy-in to your idea just by bombarding me with more information.

This class using improv games and principles enables these scientists to show their enthusiasm and passion for their work, and hence communicate more effectively. Who wouldn’t want that?

Hat tip: Geoff Brown

Information or messages

Heard an interesting interview on the radio this morning about science communications and the need for more literary science writing. In another life, I was quite interested in science communications – even dabbling in the writing of. I eventually became frustrated with scientists wanting to ensure everything was covered, that all ‘stakeholders’ were acknowledged and it was ‘professionally’ written. By professional, I think they meant in the style of a scientific journal – which frankly has never been my style. It didn’t seem to matter that the audience was usually an educated lay audience rather than the scientific community they were used to writing for.

At the heart of this dilemma is fear. Fear of being wrong. Fear of being found out. Fear of admitting that sometimes, despite our best efforts, we just don’t know. So the story is drowned in facts, in graphs, in details. All very commendable but not at all engaging. And importantly, the message is lost amongst all the information.

I’ve seen this lately with climate change and other environmental communications. Information overload. People don’t engage because you give them more information. They don’t listen to your argument because of the weight of the data supporting your argument.

We listen, and engage, when you reach our emotions, when we are affected by what you say. I’m reminded of an improv principle (isn’t there something from improv for every situation?) which says ‘be changed’. The characters need to change in some way for the scene to be interesting. Maybe that’s also true of science writing – the reader needs to be changed by what they have read. This may not mean they have changed their mind, rather it reflects a change in feelings, maybe from apathy to interest, from absolutely sure to doubt, from interest to excitement.

Embracing edginess

Next week marks the end of the financial year here in Australia. That means quite a lot of paperwork, taxes to be paid, and a re-setting of the financial clock. And like the end of the calendar year, also marks, for me, a time of reflection. As it also coincides with the coldest and gloomiest part of the year, I am wont to be a bit gloomy myself.

But I must admit, I have little to be gloomy about. Sure, I’ve made less money than usual, but that was planned in a way by deciding to only accept work if it met my criteria. And anyway, Dan Pink’s research shows that we are not motivated by money once we have enough. The work that I have done has been great – challenging at times, edgy, fun, rewarding and when I get to collaborate with friends, enjoyable in a completely different way that I’m excited to repeat. So here’s a special shout out to The Slips.

I guess these criteria reflect my values – not that I really thought of them that way when I wrote them. I’m not really a fan of organisational values, but this post by Leon Gettler has come close to changing my mind. Why? Because the values these companies have come to embrace sound far more authentic than many of the wishy-washy motherhood statements espoused as values (and often immortalised in laminated posters).

For example, here’s Zappos 10 core values:

1. Deliver WOW through service

2. Embrace and drive change

3. Create fun and a little weirdness

4. Be adventurous, creative, and open-minded

5. Pursue growth and learning

6. Build open and honest relationships with communication

7. Build a positive team and family spirit

8. Do more with less

9. Be passionate and determined

10. Be humble

The values of Atlassian, one of Australia’s largest software exporters are bold and in your face.

• Open company
• No bullsh.t
• Build with heart and balance
• Don’t f..k the customer
• Play as a team
• Be the change you seek

And Rentoid, which is trying to build itself into the eBay of renting, has a similar manifesto of values that speak the customer’s language.

Some examples of the company’s values include:

• Our people work where they please geographically
• We trust each other; we don’t confuse people with our language
• We don’t trick people with terms and conditions
• We speak like people. We are people
• We answer our phone calls
• Too much money creates laziness and reduces creativity. We use our brains first and our wallets second
• For rentoid, and personally; we don’t work with jerks. Even if it could be financially beneficial
• Fun at work is more important than all things. It is not a corporate event, a team building exercise or a day out

I’d be happy to work for any of these companies – and any others that embrace similar values. And even ones that wish they did. The common element for me is a sense of risk, and fun, of edginess, and of looking forwards, even if we don’t know what’s there, compared with looking longingly backwards at what might have been.

*Raises glass*

To a fun, and edgy year ahead.

PS: Here’s a great post by Chris Ashworth about hiring artists – and why working for love trumps working for money. A story that really embraces all that I’ve been trying to say.

Planning. What is its value?

Sometimes I like to plan.

Ah, ha! I hear some of you say, regular readers who know my thoughts about planning: “I always knew she was a closet planner!”

I like to plan how I will drive across Melbourne. I like to plan when I will have an annual holiday (because if I don’t block those dates out of my diary, it’ll never happen). I like to plan what I will cook for guests when they come over. I like to plan what flights I will take to avoid killer connections (either too short or too long). I like to plan meeting friends for coffee or dinner. And I like to plan weekends away. It appears that most of my planning is really scheduling. Is that what planning is then?

I was once asked in a job interview, oh maybe 20 years ago, if I had a five-year plan. The answer was no. I wondered if I ought to have a five-year plan. Did everyone else have one? I didn’t know. I got the job. I never did get a five-year plan.

As I was leaving a meeting recently someone asked me for my advice on strategic planning. Hmmm…

Strategic planning is one of those activities that organisations are expected to do. I suspect many people, deep down, know that it’s a waste of time. Yet we cling to it, fearing to try anything else. Or we do it because it’s always been done.

I do think there is a place for planning in organisations – allocating resources and people to activities (and then letting them get on with it – I am certainly not a fan of milestones, and performance indicators etc) – a bit like my own scheduling.

This seems to be the main purpose of planning – to allocate resources: people and time and money to certain activities over others. And to justify grants and budgets, especially for NFPs, with the added burden of identifying outcomes in advance. All of this seems to stem from an era when predictability was the norm. Surely everyone has noticed by now that un-predicatability is the new norm? Operating in complex environments means we have to try multiple small actions to see what works, because the very nature of complexity is unpredictability.

And what about predicting the future? Three, five, ten, twenty years from now – especially now when the world seems to be speeding up? It seems to me that things change too quickly for any sort of strategic plan to be meaningful. So what to do? Is it time to drop the notion of strategic planning completely? Or at the very least have a strategic plan on a whiteboard or on a wiki where it’s easy to change and adapt as needed. I guess there’s some value in knowing which direction you’re heading – I’m just not so sure there’s much value in scheduling all the stops along the way. What happens when an exciting, unplanned opportunity emerges?

Empathy

This is excellent on so many levels.

HT – Mary Nations

Working simply

“…it is the people who figure out how to work simply in the present, rather than the people who mastered the complexities of the past, who get to say what happens in the future.”

From The Collapse of Complex Business Models by Clay Shirky.

And here’s some more: “When the value of complexity turns negative, a society plagued by an inability to react remains as complex as ever, right up to the moment where it becomes suddenly and dramatically simpler, which is to say right up to the moment of collapse. Collapse is simply the last remaining method of simplification.”

Well worth reading the whole article here.

Hat tip: Rob Paterson via Twitter

Video styles

I’m about to acquire a cool little Kodak video camera, so I’ve been noticing different styles of video communication. Maybe I won’t be able to emulate any of these, but they do provide some great ideas and inspiration.

Realist, real time, first person: probably the easiest of videos to make

More realist, this time the protagonist is filmed and there’s some editing. This relies on the awesome talent of the protagonist and a steady hand and keen eye of the maker.

Then there’s this real time, whole-day open space filmed with a fixed camera and compressed  to 30 secs (hat tip Johnnie Moore)

And now we move away from realist to some other cool ways of sharing information. CommonCraft developed this paperworks approach which remains a favourite.

And my favourite style uses kinetic type. This is still my all-time favourite video. The Girl Effect.

And now motion graphics. A current favourite.

And finally, someone I just discovered last night (thanks to Kath Copley) Tales of Mere Existence by Lev Yilmaz.

What’s your favourite video style?

Research

In another life I used to spend my weekends in libraries. I was doing an Arts degree part-time at RMIT in Melbourne. I used to enjoy spending hours immersed in the La Trobe Uni Library not far from where I lived. It was over a number of floors and I knew it well. I would trawl through the shelves and sit on the floor reading journal articles. I liked to handle the books, to flip through the pages and to find gems. I’d write my essays on my MacPlus, surrounded by piles of books (from the RMIT library) and photocopies (from La Trobe Uni library).

Today I’m writing a blog post (on my MacBook Air) about different styles of video production. And I’m doing all my research on-line. I still read books. The increasingly large pile of unread ones in my office is testament to that. And the overflowing bookcases. And I can happily while away many hours researching on the web too. It’s like having all those library resources right here in my lap. I love it!

Some links

Here’s some of what I’ve been enjoying on the web lately.

I’ve yet to read a bad post on this aid worker’s blog Tales From the Hood. Even if you have no interest in, or knowledge of, aid work, these stories will touch you.

Les Posen is my favourite commentator on all things Mac, especially Keynote, of which he is a guru. In this post, ostensibly about the iPad he touches on inter-generational issues, technology for psychologists (and by inference, others) and ‘how to’ hints. Great stuff.

Redbubble is my favourite photography/art site. Check out the excellent landscape photography by Tristan Clements aka morealtitude.

Dave Snowden is writing on his blog about the origins of the Cynefin Framework. Really interesting and I’m looking forward to Part 2.

Johnnie Moore has been active on his blog lately and has even started doing podcasts again. I enjoyed this one on agility in organisations with Rob Paterson and Neil Perkin (inspired by this post by Neil). Particularly agree with the bit about strategic planning.

Sometimes it’s hard to keep up! Sometimes I don’t visit a site for a while (even a few days) and when I return find a wealth of stuff. This is true of Nancy White’s blog. Lots of really interesting posts on the digital world we live in.

And there’s so much more too, but I’d better stop.

Digital habits*

*With apologies to Nancy White for commandeering the title of her latest book

It’s Saturday afternoon here at Bells Beach. It’s not a particularly pleasant day – it’s grey, drab, damp and uninteresting. Friends who were here for a cycling event have left, the paper’s been read, the dishwasher loaded and gym done. The dodgy hamstring needs icing so I’m sitting on the couch with  an ice pack strapped to my leg. The radio is droning on in the background. Hawthorn versus Melbourne. I think Hawthorn is winning.

And I’m nursing my laptop – cruising a few web sites I haven’t visited for a while and following interesting-looking links. I’ve found some marvellous stuff to read. I’m sure you do the same thing.

Got me thinking about this whole surfing thing (the electronic version, not the stuff that happens on the waves a few hundred metres away at the Bells Beach). And the differences to reading the newspaper. I’ve always read newspapers. Once, I used to buy three different daily papers and I used to watch the news on the telly – often on a couple of different channels to compare. Not any more. I barely have patience for televised news, and not much in the newspaper really catches my attention anymore. Why?

Most of what I read in the newspaper is well, not new. And much of it doesn’t interest me either. And I become increasingly frustrated at the process of the news – where a gatekeeper has determined what it is I should hear or read, who uses statistics and audience segmentation to determine what I should be interested in. In this era of ‘publish then filter’ I am responsible for what media I consume rather than the approach of ‘filter then publish’ where experts make decisions on our behalf of what’s readable and what’s not.

I’m learning to become internet literate. Just as I had to learn a new approach to ‘literacy’ when I took up birdwatching, so I am still learning the new digital literacy. I’m learning how to find trusted sources, and where great writing, photography and illustration lives. I get a thrill when I discover a great new blog, when I read something that stretches my thinking or challenges my perspective. I also find stuff that is appalling, outdated, boring, dull or full of hubris. Some things I don’t ‘get’ and others make me laugh out loud. I’ve made friends on the net – people who I’ve never met – and I’ve developed and deepened existing friendships. I’ve got work and I’ve shared my thoughts and ideas. I’ve helped others and others have helped me. I have access to a huge variety of ideas, thinking, perspectives, possibility. And I’m no longer contented to be a consumer. I see something I like, such as the Hungry Beast segment, and I want to know how it’s done. I want to be able to do it myself. And the really cool thing is that I can do it myself. We all can now. That’s exciting.

And here’s what I love about this photo. It combines wireless internet and live streaming of a conference half a world away, a now out-dated landline telephone, and a similarly outdated radio/CD player, a wireless temperature gauge and the never-outdated skill of baking.

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