Happy fun science time

 

 


 

Where is George Gamow when we need him most?

 

Gamow was an eminent twentieth-century physicist. He was also quite the jokester. He was also, miracle of miracles, a competent and entertaining popularizer of science.

 

Popularization is a difficult thing to do well, but Gamow had the knack. He could explain things simply, using effective and appropriate analogies, and he was never ridiculous or condescending. He could be funny, and witty, and sharp, and never childish.

 

Which brings me to the state of modern science programming on television.

 

The PBS of my childhood was education, education, education. It had the production values of a community-college class, with only half the charm. Then in the late 1960s PBS learned to be sexy and sophisticated, with programs like “Masterpiece Theater,” and funny/folksy, with programs like “Sesame Street.”

 

Then came “Cosmos.” Even thirty years later, it’s a beautiful program: poetic and sweet, full of good solid information, much of which is still valid. Most importantly, it does not talk down to its audience. It’s a little twee at times, with its dandelion-seed spaceships and huge closeups of Carl Sagan’s mug, but these are small flaws.

 

Then PBS took a wrong turn. Instead of learning from the success of “Cosmos,” they drew the wrong conclusion from “Sesame Street.” If you can teach kids the alphabet by showing them thirty-second clips of fuzzy blue monsters singing catchy tunes, can’t you dress up the sciences in the same way? It can be bouncy and fun and magical, and –

 

Okay. Go watch an episode of “Through The Wormhole With Morgan Freeman” and see if you can figure out the problem.

 

Do you see what I mean? The analogies are suddenly strained and silly. The effects, instead of explaining the science, are just Matrix foofaraw, science-fictionish and cute.

 

Worst of all, we have the Scientist as Rock Star.

 

In “Through The Wormhole,” for example, we have Garrett Lisi, the theoretical physicist / surfer. He explains quantum physics to us on the beach in Hawaii while wearing a wet-suit. Radical!

 

There’s a 1990s series called “The Astronomers” that’s just as unwatchable, for all the same reasons. It features astronomers – perfectly nice people, smart, devoted to their craft – and presents them as dynamic entertainers and fascinating people in their own right.

 

Well, the science may be fascinating, but the people aren’t, usually.

 

And if I see one more archaeologist in an Indiana Jones hat, I will throw something heavy at the TV screen.

 

The high priest of this whole Science Is Fun! movement is Neil deGrasse Tyson. He’s the life of the science fair, and his sense of humor is perfectly adequate to keep fourth-graders amused. He attached himself early on to the Pluto-is-not-a-planet movement, which got elementary school children involved – not in learning science, but in writing adorable letters to Neil deGrasse Tyson about how much they love the planet Pluto. (Anybody remember Art Linkletter?) Tyson squeezed a TV program out of it, somehow.

 

There’s definitely a wonderful science program to be made about the outer solar system, but this isn’t it.

 

I vividly recall an episode of Stephen Colbert’s show when Colbert invaded the Smithsonian and assaulted Tyson with some real honest-to-God straight-faced adult satire, asking ridiculous questions with a straight face. Tyson looked alternately bewildered, angry, and terrified. He had no idea what was going on.

 

Prancing around a stage will get you attention, especially from children. But you need something a little deeper, more solid, to make a real impression. It’s no good encouraging children to believe that physicists get to surf all day. It’s far better to throw the science out there – as well-presented as you can manage – and hope it falls on a few patches of fertile soil; a few children who might grow up to be scientists, a few adults who might feel enriched by the experience.

 

George Gamow, wherever you are, please come back. We need you badly.