Recently, Edge.org published a set of questions that researchers dread being asked about their field. Many of those questions were so dreadful because they are difficult to answer in a satisfactory manner (“What happened before the big bang?”), or because they forced the respondent on a trail of introspection about their life choices (“How does one justify having worked and continuing to work in the financial sector?”). This made me think what would be the dreaded question for me. Probably something like “Do you think your research is of any use in real life?”.
Two weeks ago, I participated in the ALTER-Net conference “Science underpinning the EU 2020 Biodiversity Strategy”. ALTER-Net is a science-policy interface network, and the conference setting reflected that: after introductory talks related to each of the six EU Biodiversity targets, there were group discussions that developed recommendations to policymakers. More importantly, people working in the EU Commission’s DG Environment were involved in organizing the conference and the discussion sessions. The group discussions then allowed for inspiring and exchange of views and challenges on both sides of the science-policy interface, which does not happen by itself in a scientific conference.
For me, the conference was a concrete experience of tip number 2 on the recent Guardian article on how academics can better engage with policy: “Engage in genuine knowledge exchange”. In summary, this list recommends only engaging if you feel it is worth it because you have an important message, not because of engagement itself, and acknowledging that time and effort need to be invested in such outreach. The ALTER-Net conference was also an example of how the societal impact of science can arise through various routes, and perhaps often not through the pages of a scientific publication.
My PhD work is about conservation in a changing climate, and the uncertainties related to that. Those uncertainties are so many that it is hardly possible to come up with a perfect conservation plan. Even if it would exist, the most perfect conservation plan would be just one part of a puzzle, and it needs to fit with other interests and activities. Even though science can justify why biodiversity conservation should be a top priority in political consideration (see Cardinale et al. 2012 for an example), the real life outcomes reflect people’s values and aspirations (as they should). Science can advise on the consequences of alternative decisions, and point to important interactions and indirect linkages, and recommend one solution over another, but the decisions need to be taken by others. The others – citizens, activists, politicians, farmers, foresters, workers, representatives – need to understand and appreciate biodiversity and conservation science in order to take scientific advice into account when making decisions.
So perhaps, if asked the dreadful question, I would answer something like this: yes, my work can be useful, if I choose to make it so. It does mean making an effort to communicate the relevant parts of my work beyond the scientific community. On the other hand, perhaps not all results are relevant for real life – sometimes their value is in the contribution to science, so that real-life-relevant questions can be answered in better ways – and that is OK too.