Science, Sharks, and Stories: An Introduction to Our Science

I read my first science book when I was about five. It was about sharks. I can remember the book clearly. The pages were filled with sharp images of the terrifying creatures, some with heads breaching the water, mouths hanging agape as serrated teeth jutted out from their gums like rocks along a shoreline, others cloaked in half-darkness, submerged in the glossy paper, eyes dark pits behind which lurked mystery and danger. It was meant for children, so, of course, each image coincided with a brief description of where said shark lived, what they liked to eat, et cetera. But I didn't pay attention to that part. I lived for the pictures, for the creatures that fact told me were real but my intuition didn't believe. I lived for the story behind the science. The excitement, the mystique.

It is now 2018. Over twelve years since I first read the shark book. As I lay on my bedroom floor, a pile of clothes, books, sheets, cleaning supplies, and various decor towers behind me like a silent sentinel. In exactly one month from today, I will move into my college dormitory, and at last begin my quest to discover the truth behind life's greatest mysteries, to learn the ancient and mysterious art of science. I will be studying evolutionary biology and genetics, the former because I crave answers to the big questions, like the history and future of life on earth, the latter because I know that I must understand the mechanisms of every living thing in order to contemplate its origins. I will study hard, I will hone my practice, but it will not be enough. Because still, I know, I will hunger for stories like a great white hungers for seals. I will read the text of every “shark book” on the shelf, but it won't be enough without the pictures, the fear, the mystery, the story. So today, I sit down to write this blog post, the first installment of my very own "shark book", my own contribution to the science writing sphere. Not to teach the dear readers about science, not quite yet, but to paint them pictures. To tell them stories. Here is perhaps the scariest of all.

It is now 2018. The education systems in countless countries across the globe are inherently flawed. The funds allocated for scientific research are scare. The general public understanding of science and its applications is little. The way we as a global society disseminates scientific research reveals a disconnect; there are haves and have nots. There are those who can afford to buy a subscription to a popular science magazine, there are those with access to databases like JSTOR and the NIH, there are those who are scientifically literate enough to understand the pages upon pages of data, figures, and words with twelve too many letters found in research papers. And then there are those who cannot, those without the resources to even try. This is not okay.

Scientific research holds indescribable potential; curing diseases, developing technology for a sustainable future, feeding the starving, and improving the quality of life of every organism on this earth. And yet, it is 2018, and we live in a society where science and all its potential is pushed to the curb by many governments, where funding is left to the private sector, risking biased studies, where academics feel they must pick easy research topics as to continually publish and not fall victim to budget cuts. We live in a society where the pursuit of knowledge is disrupted by the quest for money by corporations, by administrative entities. We live in a society where science is for the rich to enjoy.

Enter Our Science. A blog dedicated to bringing high-caliber science content to everyone. From hot button issues like pollution, cryptocurrency, and climate change to the research nobody hears about because it isn't well communicated, we're bringing it all. From the studies and the facts to the experiences of those behind the science; the stressed PhD candidates, the hard-pressed academics picking their pockets to buy a new piece of lab equipment, the women and minorities and lgbtq+ who have to fight for every publication. We're committed to not only displaying the science but also the story behind the science. As young adults, our staff knows how it feels to have to scream to be heard, and at Our Science, we're ready to become the next generation of researchers, of science writers, of storytellers, of world changers. The articles I contribute here may be part of the "shark book" I'm continually writing, but they will not be my stories. These will be the stories of the universe, of life on earth, of an inherently flawed society. These will be our stories.

Won't you read along with us?

Mary Magnuson

Editor, Our Science