Non Gamstop UK Betting SitesNon Gamstop Betting Sites 2025Non Gamstop CasinosNon Gamstop CasinosNon Gamstop CasinosNon Gamstop Casinos
RESOURCES :
Advice from top science writers
 
 

 

"I passionately support The Daily Telegraph / BASF Science Writer Awards, which help young people to communicate the importance of science."

Carol Vorderman,
who launched the 2004 awards
.

 

 

10 Dec 2003, The Daily Telegraph

The 2004 Awards Launch Article

By Carol Vorderman

Mathematics is the universal language. Sir Isaac Newton used it to unite the movements of the heavens with those on Earth. Einstein wielded mathematics to topple Newton's picture of gravity.


Seven decades ago, that unsung hero of British Science, Paul Dirac, used mathematics to predict the existence of antimatter. When Carl Anderson subsquently confirmed the existence of the `antielectron,' Dirac's discovery was hailed as a triumph for theory. Maths had uncovered a truth before it had even been revealed by experiment.

While science has descended from the ivory tower, so that arcane theories have turned into bestselling books and television programmes, maths remains an unapproachable spook that haunts the cultural cloisters. The subject is alien to most people, even though its scientific applications are helping to make sense of our world and to change it. That is why I passionately support The Daily Telegraph/BASF Science Writer Awards, which help young people to
communicate the importance of science and, by association, its curious cousin mathematics.

Entries are welcome from 16-28 year olds on any subject, from the purest of pure maths to engineering, medicine and biology. But, given my own love of number-crunching, it seemed sensible for me to launch the latest competition
by focusing on how to give mathematics sufficient sex appeal for the most formula-phobic reader.

Even though Barry Stickings of BASF wants to see more chemistry feature in the competition entries (he is boss of a major chemical company, after all), tips to popularise mathematics should also come in handy for entrants who
want give other hard-to-love fields of science a makeover too, whether chemistry, physics or engineering.

What is it that bothers us about mathematics? It does not help that it is not well taught in schools. It does not help that some influential figures still think it is cool to be innumerate. Nor does it help that it leaves no room for errors. Most fundamental of all, maths is written in its own
strange language of equations and symbols. The same goes for those subjects, notably physics and cosmology, that lean most heavily on mathematics. Look at papers from these fields and much of them might as well have been written in Finnish. Physics and cosmology cannot but present serious problems of communication.

My recipe for success in extolling the joys of maths (and, by extension, any field of science) is as follows. First, find an example of current research that will excite the readership of The Daily Telegraph: the maths we learn at school is parochial. Maths is so much more than calculations, long
division and percentages.

An example of esoteric maths meeting extraordinary science is string theory. Today's theoretical physicists believe that everything fundamentally consists of minute loops of energy (or `strings'), each about a millionth of a billionth of a billionth of a billionth of a centimetre long. Why strings
rather than point-like particles? In part, because string theory is a hauntingly beautiful mathematical symphony. Nature seems to have a tendency to dance to the most beautiful mathematical tunes. Scientists are musicians
and fundamental equations are the musical scores of science.

Junk all equations. Explain all jargon. Illuminate the fundamental idea. Clarity of explanation is vital, because unveiling a new idea should mark a high point for the reader, not descent into a mire of confusion. Crucially,
incorporate the explanation within the framework of a story to make it more digestible. Storytelling is crucial. The story is a way of hooking those people whose interest may begin to wobble if clobbered with hardcore theory. Don't forget the obvious. Mathematics is done by people. It is an
imaginative and creative process. Let the learned journals focus on all the gory formulae. This competition offers you the chance to spell out all the daft, romantic and bizarre details surrounding a mathematical proof.

Become a storyteller. Cram your piece with wonderful moments and vignettes that will entertain the reader. Soften those hard-to-stomach ideas with history, anecdote and personalia. Create an entertaining blend and you can
render an austere subject palatable. Find out about the personalities behind mathematics. Dirac, who had zealous
faith that nature's fundamental laws have mathematical beauty, was profoundly shy and loved fast cars. Einstein did not like to wear socks and was beastly to his first wife. Fermat was a "braggart", according to Rene Descartes. The Englishman John Wallis referred to him as "that damned
Frenchman". Very human themes such as obsession and vanity can give mathematics mass appeal.

The above techniques are used by successful popularisers of maths, such as Ian Stewart, Marcus du Sautoy, John Barrow, Graham Farmelo and Simon Singh. I used to work with Simon on Tomorrow's World and can think of no better
example than his book, Fermat's Last Theorem.

To sell the idea to a general reader, all you have to do is relate what Fermat had jotted next to the marginal note outlining his theory: "I have a truly marvellous proof of this proposition which this margin is too narrow to contain." This mischievous comment would come to haunt generations of
mathematicians.

Simon would have been potty to have concentrated solely on the theorem and to have ignored the drama, plot twists and characters surrounding the three century-long effort to crack the problem. And, indeed, he weaved the mathematics into the story, using the plot to propel the reader along - and
provide enough momentum to plough through the dense paragraphs which are crucial to understanding.

How to start? Sometimes the conclusions of a project are so earth-shattering they are enough to draw a reader in. Often, they are not. Then imagine you are writing a thriller. Start with an intriguing morsel. Make the tension mount as the reader heads for the final denouement. But don't overdo it.
There is a risk of forgetting the maths or science if you focus too much on the story. It is simply a question of balance. Unfortunately, getting this balance right gets tougher as the piece shortens. In this case, you have
just 700 words. Make every one count. Aim to get over one or two key points.

Now it is over to you to reveal to readers where the great scientific adventure is taking us.