“So, what is it?” – astronomy that is

Although I watched some of the early series, I confess that the BBC’s ‘Red Dwarf’ never became one of my favourite TV shows. Perhaps it was the science nerd in me, although that hasn’t dampened my enjoyment of other SciFi programmes or movies. However, a handful of snippets seem to have lodged in my mind, one of which lies within the ‘White Hole’ episode (see here) in which the concept of a white hole is discussed. Their interpretation of the physics associated with mathematical models of white holes, which began to emerge during the 1970s and onwards, was almost nonsensical – but the repeated question “So, what is it?” reflects an important aspect of the life scientific. For reasons which will hopefully become apparent as you read on, it’s a memory that resurfaced recently as I reflected on a Q&A session I was involved in on the subject of astronomy.

There were no obvious images to go with this post, so I’ll treat you to my latest attempts at astrophotography from my garden: Mars and Venus ... The other shot of Venus was taken in May, when far less of its illuminated surface was visible from Earth - that's why it's so very bright at present. For a little more detail on my stumbling attempts at astrophotography see my previous blog post, here. (Just for fun, note the south polar ice cap just about discernible on Mars.)

Well, what do you think astronomy is? The commendably brief definition provided by the online Collins English Dictionary states that it is “the scientific study of the stars, planets, and other natural objects in space” or alternatively “the scientific study of the individual celestial bodies (excluding the earth) and of the universe as a whole”. As a former academic who worked cheek-by-jowl for several decades with professional astronomers, and as an amateur stargazer myself (see my previous blog post, here) I’d have to say that either form of words covers the subject tolerably well. I could take issue with the dictionary at the fringes of its definition, but that might end up multiplying the number of words without generating a significant improvement to one’s actual understanding. One of the things I’ve repeatedly discovered over the years in speaking to non-experts about science is that the connotations they have for words with which I feel ‘at home’ may be quite different to my own. Avoiding the pitfalls that can arise from a failure to get to grips with the background and expectations of participants is a key ingredient to successful science communication and engagement. I recently had another opportunity to observe the existence of this apparent dissonance … 

Earlier this year – indeed, well before lockdown/shielding – I hatched a plan, in cahoots with the science coordinator of the local branch of the U3A (Alan Chadwick, search here for subject coordinators, science) to organise and co-host an open ‘Q&A’ session as part of the 2020 summer programme of events. Topics in science account for only about 10-15% of what is on offer to members, so I’m continually on the lookout for ways in which one might extend and broaden the appeal. I contacted my fellow science theme leaders – a handful of similarly committed people – and made sure that enough of them were interested to make it viable. As with so many of our ideas, good or not-so-good, the rise of the COVID19 troubles forced a rethink. We opted for a series of monthly video-streaming sessions, each having a specific theme and with questions sent in advance to the two people designated as leaders. Second in the series, after ‘Diet’ was a session on ‘Astronomy’, for which I was one of the volunteer leaders. It’s not my intention to summarise the 90-minute session, although I can say that it was as much fun as it was exhausting, but there are a couple of thoughts that occurred to me during the run-up to it and as it unfolded. The first and obvious point is that the submitted questions, augmented during the session through the online ‘chat’ facility offered by our chosen platform, covered a lot of ground. More than that however, one might interpret the questions as providing a snapshot of what our participants thought astronomy was actually all about. Thus, alongside the choice of observing targets and what instruments might be useful, and several cosmology questions centred on the Big Bang, black holes and the various multiverse theories, we had questions on colonising Mars (and further afield), space junk and extra-terrestrials. One lovely question alluded to ‘spiders on mars’ – see here for the non-Bowie answer ;-) 

It might have been tempting to filter or to re-interpret the submitted questions, but that would have been a mistake in my opinion. All the topics raised were, in the minds of our sharp-witted questioners, ‘astronomy’; as such, each and every one of them deserved to be taken seriously and given as sensible and as full an answer as we could. When I was still an academic, and doing my best not only to teach a physics syllabus but also to inspire in a broader sense, there were a couple of phrases I used early on when talking with each year’s new intake: “there’s no such thing as a silly question” and “science is always wrong”. Both require humility on the part of the lecturer/course leader. The first speaks to the desirability of starting from where the questioner is, and not imposing pre-conditions. The second opens up a discussion on the scientific method and how it progressively reveals the nature of our world/universe to us, with each generation of theories yielding to the better ones that follow. Both aspects came to the fore more than once during our Q&A, even if only tangentially.

Our next monthly online science forum is on ‘ecology’, and the one after that is on ‘chemistry’. I’m chairing the latter so I can only hope that I make the two-person ‘panel’ and their questioners feel as valued and comfortable as I was made to feel. So, a blockage to our original plan for a one-off Q&A has been turned into an opportunity for a whole series of online sessions … science communication in action, aided and abetted by the ever-present forces of serendipity.