What’s the Point of National Science Week?

By A/Prof Djuke Veldhuis
Chair, Inspiring Victoria

If someone had told me even ten years ago that I would be working full-time at a university in a faculty of science, I would have laughed. Science week? I didn’t know it existed until I was 14. It wasn’t until my 20s, working in school outreach programs, that I truly understood its value.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always enjoyed science, particularly when it comes to biology and anything to do with the natural world, but I didn’t thrive in science educationally.

A/Prof Djuke Veldhuis hosting the FameLab meet and greet at Cheltenham Science Festival in 2013. Photograph: Anna Lythgoe.

Growing up in the Netherlands, as a young child I joined my father, a biologist, in his lab filled with rats. He was working to understand how corticosteroids affect behaviour and brain function. Impressive as that work came to be in the development of antidepressants, I just remember the rats. I figured such cute creatures must be awesome to work with every day (much later I would understand the reality).

My mother, with a degree in the history of philosophy, fostered my creativity and independence. She taught me to read when I was three, and from then on, the magical world of stories led the way. I struggled in maths, found chemistry hard to visualise (though the explosions were cool), loved biology, but did not excel in the same way I did in languages, philosophy and literature. 

As a teenager in the USA, I viewed science weeks as events for ‘nerds.’ I certainly wasn’t anti-science. Both my parents instilled the importance of evidence and reasoning, however science week, that was a bit ‘fringe’ for me.

At this point, I imagine you might have an eyebrow raised pondering, “What on earth are you doing as the Chair of Inspiring Victoria? A program with the slogan Science is for Everyone, which sits at the heart of involvement in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) through initiatives like National Science Week in Victoria?!”.1,2,3

Great question! Let me explain.

While completing a degree in archaeology and anthropology I was drawn to the world of public engagement with science. Based in the UK at the time, the country was still reeling from the MMR (measles-mumps-rubella) vaccine controversy in the late 1990s,4 not to mention a visceral debate around badger culling,5 and by the 2000s climate misinformation was ripe. As part of my work in outreach programs with schools in deprived areas I began to notice a commonality between the arts and science. Just as the world of arts had and still has (inadvertent?) barriers that make it inaccessible to the ‘working class’, so too, the righteousness of scientists in their (perceived) ivory towers was creating a schism.

A common retort to UK scientists’ reluctance and delay in responding to misinformation around vaccines or climate change was, “well, we let the evidence do the talking”. But therein lay the core of the problem. By the early 2000s let alone 2024, the pace of scientific development and the continued explosion in jargon and technicality was alienating people. Even if they had an interest in science, the accessibility of science to anything other than ‘experts’ was limited. Some have drawn the same comparisons in the world of art. 

Whether real or imagined, that inaccessibility to science encouraged me to pivot drastically. After completing my PhD, squarely at the intersection of endocrinology and anthropology, I jumped into a Masters of Science Journalism. I could relate to that feeling of being an ‘outsider’ to science. That imposter voice in my head asking, ‘Can I ask questions about this given I only did one science subject in my final year of high school? Am I worthy?’ Where could everyday people like me go to engage with science and be excited and learn more despite not necessarily excelling at science in school? 

Based in the UK at the time, the BBC provided a rich platform in scientific programming which certainly helped, but the true magic happened in science week and at science festivals. The combination of industry, not-for-profits, government and research organisations that showed they were real people using science (mostly) for good made it real, it made it fun and accessible. Most importantly it illustrates to people that science is all around us and does not work in isolation. You can have the most effective vaccine in the world, but if you cannot communicate why people should take it, if you cannot encourage behaviour change, then it is all for nought. Science does not, cannot and never will function in a vacuum.

Unfortunately, the association of science as something that you ‘do at school’ (and maybe continue ‘at university’) and that’s ‘the end’ is a common fallacy. While working at the Cheltenham Science Festival,6 we noticed that lots of parents held back their own (obvious) curiosity while their children interacted with a host of displays and exciting live experiments that made me jealous of not being a child again. 

Surveying parents, we realised that many came for their kids, but were finding themselves engaged, but not feeling like they could ask questions. They were ‘adults’ after all and didn’t do or failed science at school. We went on a hunch and created a 16+ only area. None of the exhibits, experiments or displays were significantly more complex than in the ‘family zone’, but the result was eye opening. 

Thousands of adults streamed through the section telling us how surprised they were about the amount of time they spent talking and learning. This, they said, was not the science they experienced at school. If only it had been, they continued, “I might have considered a more science-focused career, but I never thought I was ‘good enough’ for that.” 

To solve the global challenges facing us we need curiosity and we need opportunities for lifelong learning. I work full time at a faculty of science and even I feel overwhelmed by the pace of development in science and technology. How are we going to make sure that we don’t leave people behind? To solve global challenges, we need curiosity and opportunities for lifelong learning. National Science Week and initiatives by Inspiring Victoria partner organisations provide a superb platform for engagement National Science Week. 

One week won’t solve all the issues, but it catalyses increased STEMM engagement. Science and society are forever entwined and we must ensure Australians have access to the world of STEMM.


Associate Professor Djuke Veldhuis is passionate about public engagement with science and empowering solutions to the global problems at the intersection of education, industry and government. She is Chair of Inspiring Victoria, a member of the RSV Council, and works at the Faculty of Science at Monash University where she is course director for the BSc Advanced – Global Challenges (Honours) degree.

References:

  1. Inspiring Victoria. inspiringvictoria.org.au
  2. Inspiring Australia. www.industry.gov.au/science-technology-and-innovation/science-engagement
  3. National Science Week. scienceweek.net.au
  4. Batty, D. (2004, February 24). Timeline: MMR row. The Guardian. theguardian.com/society/2004/feb/24/publichealth.uknews
  5. Badger culling in the United Kingdom. Wikipedia. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Badger_culling_in_the_United_Kingdom
  6. Cheltenham Science Festival. cheltenhamfestivals.org/festivals/science-festival