In French, explaining science to a broad general audience is called “vulgariser”. To me, this French verb has a very negative connotation. The word implies popularizing science is something dirty. Surely something that should be avoided at all times. If a scientist wants to stay clean, he’d better stay away from translating his abstract ideas and complicated experiments into the daily lives of ordinary people.

Yet, not communicating to the big, scary outside world is simply not an option. It is the outside world that is paying for those fancy lasers, microscopes, and high energy particle accelerators. It is the outside world a scientist might encounter over a beer in a pub after a day of breathtaking maths. And, very important, the majority of our beloved mothers belong to the outside world as well. I assume, perhaps naively, that even the most narrow-minded geek will agree with me that at least the last category, our moms, deserves some insight into our daily work.

So there is no escape, we simply need to popularize. However, popularizing is far from easy. A quick peek at my bookshelves reveals that the most renowned scientists primarily write books for the general public that even a physics graduate cannot understand. I have seen many PhD colleagues with disappointed faces after trying to explain their work. But then I guess it is not a good idea to start talking about time-correlated photon counting or Hilbert spaces to people totally unfamiliar with physics. It is not very stimulating for a young scientist (see Recognition Matters) to be constantly misunderstood.

Since being able to popularize science is such a basic requirement for a happy research life, I find it striking very few universities offer bachelor or master courses to help students explain their work. Consequently, the French are in fact right: many attempts to popularize science end up in a hopeless mess. I think it is about time for an extra chapter in the Survival Guide.

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