Science and Fiction: Two halves of one whole
WRITTEN BY NATASHA NAGLE.
What is the most powerful thing on the planet? Some might claim it’s a nuclear bomb, plate tectonics, or perhaps a more spiritual power. For me, I’d say it’s stories.
People have sat around campfires telling stories since the dawn of humanity; some of which remain long-standing staples in our own cultural referencing. People are willing to die for stories. There are tales of young women in eastern Europe during WWII, who risked their lives to read and recount stories from the contraband books they kept hidden, potentially at the expense of their lives.
Stories can be hopeful, transformational, empowering, and can even change lives. I have no shame that a fictional story gave me my life path. In fact, I’m rather proud to say that the book series Percy Jackson was my first introduction to the ancient world through myth, my gateway into the geosciences and archaeology, and without which I wouldn’t be here today. It is why, even through some of the toughest times in my life — when everything seems to be falling down around me and my stress levels are high enough to give a donkey a stroke — I do my best to make sure I have time to engage with stories, especially fiction. And it is why I’m always so crushed when people insult the stories that give me strength and hope, and continuously underestimate their incredible benefits simply because they ask readers to suspend disbelief.
‘You’re such an intelligent young lady. What are you doing reading that trash? You should be reading things more suited to your age and ability.’
-Karen
I’m going to be honest with you, that memory still brings as much red to my eyes as it did when I heard it the first time. But it certainly wasn’t the last.
To be clear: I was twelve, and was reading the very series that had sparked my love of ancient history and mythology. What I was unaware of was that, to many people, science-fiction and fantasy had an expiry date… apparently around age ten.
It was the first time I had experienced this twisted, hierarchical understanding of stories — that some were deemed inherently more ‘worthy’ of engagement than others. Usually, I found that descriptor of ‘worthiness’ could be seamlessly swapped for the term ‘usefulness’; and most ‘practical’ people couldn’t for the life of them see any uses for such ‘tall tales’ of monsters, slaying dragons, saving royalty, and defeating unknowable amounts of evil with the powers of magic, advanced technology, and a healthy dose of friendship — occasionally all from the seemingly endless amphitheater of space.
What those ‘practical’ Karens could never see was the immeasurable benefits ingesting fictional tales in all their forms could provide, both within and outside of academic institutions.
I’d like to share with you a few of the ways I’ve found fiction to have helped me exponentially in my life and academic career (now into a PhD) so far, in the hopes that they can help you too in your writing and communication in and outside of uni.
How fiction can help your academic writing:
• Forces an Outside Perspective - In fiction, especially science-fiction and fantasy, the worlds that are described have never existed in real life; this often includes the rules, beliefs, and structures associated with them. So, when worldbuilding, creators have to carefully think things through and do their best to ensure what they’re describing makes sense to someone with a complete outsider’s perspective.
The Benefit: This removal of perspective is infinitely valuable in academic writing. - Can your reader understand the points you are making, or do they need more background? Can you rely on assumed knowledge? Or do the items you’re presenting completely change and challenge your reader’s perspective of the issue/world around them (ie. Quarks…that stuff is trippy)? If so, how can you ease your reader’s perspective into seeing/acknowledging your own so they remain open to what you’re explaining?
• Becoming Comfortable with the Unknown - There is no single piece of fiction that gives the world’s entire background in one go. Likely, even the author or creator didn’t know everything about their world while creating it (Please see: the entire adage about how books like to write themselves), and rather uncovered bits and pieces of backstory along the way that they then chose to convey to their readers…or not, depending on their story. Engaging with fiction demands a certain tolerance to, and excitement for, the unknown.
The Benefit: We will never be able to know everything that happens in our own world either. There is so much that we simply don’t know or understand, much less have even thought to ask the right questions for, or can actively comprehend and apply. Learn to infuse your writing with the tolerance and anticipation for the unknown so often applied to works of fiction. - Don’t be afraid to ask big questions, or to push against the bounds of what your discipline can accomplish at this very moment in time. If the discipline doesn’t know something, say that, then work towards presenting potential ways that could be remedied. Break down seemingly overwhelming amounts of information into smaller chunks that are more easily understood, for both you and your reader.
• Reading Between the Lines Comes Second Nature - Because not everything in a fictional piece is able to be spelled out in excruciating detail, much of the information we need from the story comes in the form of inferencing, or reading between the lines. The more fiction you consume, the better you become at spotting and understanding these unstated items, and more easily you can take that skill with you and apply it to different areas of your life.
The Benefit: This tip is a bit of a flipped version of all the others I’ve included here, in that: In academic writing, we don’t want our readers to have to guess what we’re trying to say, but we can use the power of reading between the lines to come up with fresh takes on the ideas presented — adding nuance and detail to otherwise cut and dry information by asking “What if?”. We can then apply that fresh perspective to our writing.
• Specialists and their Ability to Work in Teams - Ever notice that all the members of a questing team typically have different strengths, abilities, and areas of expertise? (I too have heard the TikTok sounds about ‘every friend group/DnD party’) That’s because, if all the members of a team were Dave from Accounting (no hate on accounting majors, you guys are awesome and I bow to your excellence with numbers!) they’d likely get stuck in the planning stages and never actually [fill in quest objective here].
The Benefit: Always look for ways you can draw on the knowledge and expertise of other disciplines in your own work. It will make it more enjoyable for you to write, and much more engaging for your reader as well. Not to mention, understanding which other areas of knowledge exist and having a general idea of how to use them will give you a major leg up in the Hunger Games arena that is job applications… see what I did there?
• Focus on the Story - Whether they are character or plot driven, the most successful and engaging works of fiction tell a story. They have highs and lows, successes and struggles, and tell a compelling tale that allows the reader to connect with the characters and circumstances, even if the events themselves are so far removed from their own daily lives.
The Benefit: Especially outside of academia, most of your readers don’t have the same level of knowledge or engagement with the materials and courses you’re studying. Even within academia, most of your professors are teaching things they might not actively use in their own research on a daily basis. There’s nothing wrong with any of that, and uni can be a foundational building block to go on to more advanced research and understanding of the topics presented. But, if you’re able to tell a compelling (but still accurate) story of your work, and how you connected the dots to come to the conclusion(s) you’re presenting, I promise you’ll have a few less yawns around the family dinner table when you answer the question, ‘So, what did you do at uni today?’, and perhaps be more engaged in your topics yourself by looking at the nitty-gritty necessities that come along with them in a slightly different manner.
The sense of exploration, of wonder, of trying to figure out what comes next and moving into the previously unknown that’s inherently infused into fiction is what can push us to be better students, better academics, communicators, and questioners of the readily accepted status quo. And it is those very things that help move us and our society forward; by peering through the cracks of our current knowledge to see — and communicate — better, more accessible solutions to our shared problems. Though we need to be careful in our presentations and to ensure our work doesn’t suffer for the sake of a good story, I can’t imagine why would we ever want to squash the very things that help us hone those abilities?
As with Neil Gaiman’s quote ‘Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten,’ fiction in all its forms gives us the ability to look at our world through different lenses, to imagine all that could exist in our future rather than see what simply is, and to communicate those wishes in ever inspiring and creative ways. And I think that’s powerful.
EDITORIAL NOTE: This article has been reuploaded and was originally published in 2021.