A misconception about misconceptions?

Alternative conceptions underpin some, but not all, learning difficulties


Keith S. Taber


I recently wrote here about a paper published in a research journal which used a story about the romance between two electrons, Romeo and Juliet, as a context for asking learners to build models of the atom. (I thought the approach was creative, but I found it quite dificult to decode some aspects of the story in terms of the science).

Read 'Teenage lust and star-crossed electrons'


Table from "Romeo and Juliet: A Love out of the Shell": Using Storytelling to Address Students' Misconceptions and Promote Modeling Competencies in Science
Table 1 from Aquilina et al, 2024: Copyright: © 2024 – open access article distributed under the terms and conditions of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC BY) license (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/).

Misconceptions misconceived?

But something else I noticed about that study (Aquilina et al., 2024) was that the authors listed a number of 'misconceptions' that their teaching approach was meant to address (see the Table reproduced above). These were:

  • Students, after studying planetary and Bohr's atomic models, cannot move beyond them easily.
  • Students rarely reflect on and/or understand the need for the development of new atomic models.
  • Students find it difficult to associate spectral lines with transitions between energy levels.
  • Students do not describe photon emission processes properly.
  • Students do not clearly understand the concept of an orbital.
  • Students find it difficult to understand atomic quantum-mechanical models.

But none of these actually seemed to be misconceptions.

To be clear, I think

  • all of these points are pertinent to the research; and they reflect
    • challenges to the teacher, and
    • learning difficulties experienced by many learners.

But they are not misconceptions.

What is a misconception?

There is a very large literature reporting student misconceptions, or alternative conceptions, in science subjects.1 A misconception, or alternative conception, is a conception that is judged to be inconsistent with the scientific account (or the version of the scientific account presented in the curriculum). The points listed in Aquilina and colleagues' table are not conceptions, so cannot be alternative conceptions – just as a postbox cannot be a red car, because it is not a car; and nor can Boyle's law be a refuted theory, because it is not a theory; and a mushroom cannot be a leafless plant, because it is fungi not plant.

So, what is a conception?

We might understand a conception to be one facet of a concept (Taber, 2019). Consider a student has some ideas about atoms. We might consider the learner's concept of the atom to be the collection of all those ideas about atoms. Imagine a learner thinks:

  • atoms are very small
  • an atom contains a nucleus
  • atoms contain electrons arranged in shells
  • there are many different types of atoms
  • gold atoms are gold coloured
  • everything is made of atoms 2
  • an exploding atom can destroy a city

If this was the full extent of their ideas about atoms, we might collectively see this list as comprising their atom concept. We could represent it by drawing a concept map showing how the learner sees 'atom' to be linked to other concepts such as 'nucleus', 'electron', etc.

Read about concept maps

But we might consider each one of these separate statements to be a conception.


Our conceptions vary across a number of dimensions (after Figure 2.3 in Taber, 2014)

There are complicatons:

  • A person may have (implicit / tacit) 'conceptions' that they could not easily put into words to express as statements. (A researcher might elicit what a learner is thinking and represent it as a sentence, but for the learner it may be more a vague intuition that they only put in words in response to the researcher's questions.)
  • A person may also show different levels of commitments to conceptions – perhaps our hypothetical learner is pretty certain that atoms are very small, but only has a hunch that gold atoms are gold coloured. Perhaps the learner was told by a friend that an atom bomb that is powerful enough to destroy a city is based on exploding a single atom at its centre – and our learner remembers this, but is actually very sceptical.

(Would anyone think that latter idea was feasible? Perhaps not, but an episode of a popular TV sci-fi series featured a weapon that could destroy whole worlds from a great distance – based on the action of 8 neutrons! Presumably the scriptwriters thought viewers would accept this. Read 'How much damage can eight neutrons do? Scientific literacy and desk accessories in science fiction').

What makes a conception alternative?

We usally say a learner has an alternative conception when they hold a conception which is inconsistent with (so alternative to) the scientific account. A great many such alternative conceptions have been elicited in research that explores people's thinking about science. Much of this work has been undertaken with science learners, but some simply with people in the general population (when alternative conceptions may be termed as 'folk science' or 'urban myths'). Here are just a few of the examples discussed elewhere on this site:

These are 'alternative' because they are contrary to the scientific account, and they are significant to science teachers because they are contrary to the target knowledge the teacher is expected to teach to students.

One reason to perhaps prefer the term 'alternative conception' to 'misconceptions' is that the latter term may seem to imply the outcome of misunderstanding teaching. Alternative conceptions certainly can be linked to misunderstanding teaching, but often this occurs because the learner already has an intuitive idea that is contrary to the science, and this leads to them misinterpreting teaching. But consider this example:

  • an atom of an element in the first period has a full shell with two eletrons, all other atoms would need to have eight electrons in the outer shell for it to be a full shell

This is an alternative conception that learners sometimes do hold, whereas eight electorns only counts as a full shell in period 2 (Li, Be, B, C, N, O, F, Ne) and not for any of the other elements. So, a chloride atom (electronic configuration 2.8.7) does not have a full outer shell when it joins with an electron to become a chloride ion (2.8.8).

But I have seen school textbooks aimed at secondary levels learners (c.14-16 year old students) that actually state quite clearly that all atoms, apart from H and He have a full outer shell with eight electrons. If a learner had read that in the textbook issued by the school, and so believes it to be so, then they have not misconceived what they read – they have accurately understood the intended meaning. But it is still an alternative conception ('misconception').

Learning blocks and misconceptions

So, something cannot be an alternative conception (misconception), unless it is both a conception, and counter to the scientific account. But there are other reasons a learner may struggle to understand the science in the curriculum.

A learner may lack specifc prerequisite background knowldge needed to make sense of a new idea; or the learner may not appreciate that cetain prior knowledge is meant to be applied in understanding the new material. Learners may indeed misinterpet teaching due to an existing alternative conception, but they may also sometimes make an unhelpful association with unrelated prior learning. (That is, they interpet teaching in terms of some prior learning that they think is related, but which from the scientific perspective is not relevant.) Sometimes that may relate to how scientific terms may be understood through the learner's language resources (such as assuming a 'neturalisation' reaction will always lead to a neutral product becasue that's exactly what a reasonable person might expect 'neutralisation' to mean!) or it may relate to not appreciating the limitations of a teacher's model, or to how an analogy or metaphor (e.g., electron shell) is intended to be figurative, not literal.


Learners may not always understand teaching as intended

Read about types of learning impediments that can interfere with student learning


So, alternative conceptions are indeed very relevant to the challenge of teaching science, but not all learning difficulties are due to alternative conceptions; and certainly not all learning dificulties should be labelled as 'misconceptions'.

Beyond misconceptions

So, what about Aquilina and colleagues' list of supposed 'misconceptions'?

  • Students, after studying planetary and Bohr's atomic models, cannot move beyond them easily.
  • Students rarely reflect on and/or understand the need for the development of new atomic models.
  • Students find it difficult to associate spectral lines with transitions between energy levels.
  • Students do not describe photon emission processes properly.
  • Students do not clearly understand the concept of an orbital.
  • Students find it difficult to understand atomic quantum-mechanical models.

There are a number of well-recognised issues here. Two in particular stand-out.

The unfamiliar abstract

For one thing the subject matter is unfamiliar and abstract. People can only understand teaching if they can link it to existing experience or prior learning. Teachers have to find ways 'to make the unfamiliar familiar'. (This is why Aquilina and colleagues devised a narrative based on a tragic love story that they expected the students to be familiar with.)

Read about teaching as making the unfamilair familiar

But learning about the abstract in terms of the familiar only moves a learner so far when the familiar is only a little like the target. Learners know about shells, so can imagine electrons in shells – but electron shells are not really like more familiar shells (such as those that protect snails and cockles or bird's eggs). Learners can imagine electrons spinning like spinning topics, but electron spin is not like that – the electron does not spin.

The behaviour of quanticles, quantum objects, is quite unlike the behaviour of familiar objects. An orbital is not really an object at all, but more a description of the solution of a mathematical equation – those diagrams showing the different atomic or molecular orbitals are a bit like the map of the London underground: schematic representations that are useful for some purposes, but not realistic images of the orbital/rail line.

Acquiring model nous (epistemologial sophistication)

The second issue relates to epistemological niavety, which comes from not appreciating the subtle nature of science. If we teach students that an atom is like THIS (say, electrons orbitting a central nucleus like planets orbiting the sun), why shoud we then be surprised that students think that is what an atom is like – and so then struggle to understand why we are now teaching them the atom is quite different from this? The defence that we did point out this was a model is only convincing if we are sure the students understood what a scientific model is.

We might describe thinking that electrons in atoms have definite trajectories as being a 'misconception' – but if we have taught such a model then the learner's real misconception is in thinking that such a model is meant to be a realistic representation. If we never taught them that the model was something other than a scale replica of an atom, then this is a 'pedagogic learning impediment'. That is, the student is only guilty of learning what they have been taught!

Perhaps more attention to this aspect of the nature of science throughout school science might avoid this problem. Imagine that from a young age learners had regularly been asked in their science lessons to:

  • devise different models and representations of various scientific phenomena
  • identify the strength and limitations of different models (both those produced by learners, and mulitpile representations presented by the teacher)
  • discuss why having several different (imperfect) models might sometimes be useful
  • be asked to choose between alternative models/representations for different specified purposes

In contexts where science has tended to be taught as though it offers a single, realistic account of phenomena, then we should not be surprised

  • that students do not see the need to move beyond the models they have been taught (they consider them as more like scale replicas than theoretical models)
  • nor indeed when they complain they have put a lot of effort into learning models they now feel they are being taught were wrong all along!

Learners' alternative conceptions are a major impediment to learning school and college science. However, learning of abstract ideas requires learners to make sense of teaching in terms of the interpetative resources they have available – and that is often challenging enough even when they have no existing alternative conceptions in a topic.

Read about the constructivist perspective on learning


Work cited:
  • Aquilina, G.; Dello Iacono, U.; Gabelli, L.; Picariello, L.; Scettri, G.; Termini, G. "Romeo and Juliet: A Love out of the Shell": Using Storytelling to Address Students' Misconceptions and Promote Modeling Competencies in Science. Education Sciences, 2024, 14, 239. https://doi.org/10.3390/educsci14030239
  • Taber, K. S. (2014). Student Thinking and Learning in Science: Perspectives on the nature and development of learners' ideas. New York: Routledge.
  • Taber, K. S. (2019). The Nature of the Chemical Concept: Constructing chemical knowledge in teaching and learning. Cambridge: Royal Society of Chemistry.

Notes:

1 There are a number of other related terms used in the literature, such as intuitive theories and preconceptions. Sometimes these different terms refect subtle distinctions (so preconceptions refers to alternative conceptions a learner has prior to being taught anything about a topic). But, in practice, there is no real consisitency in how various terms are used across different authors.

I try to reserve the term alternative conceptual framework for more large scale conceptual structures than discrete alternative conceptions. (But again, the terms are sometimes used interchangeably) So, for example, the 'octet' framework is a network of related conceptions built around the core alternative conception that chemical change is driven by atoms needing full electron sells or octets of electrons:

Read about the octet alternative conceptual framework


2 A teacher might want to ask students what they means by their words. If a student suggests they believe that everythings is made of atoms, or everything is made from atoms, then this may be a canonical understanding, or an alternative conception:

mottois a short-hand way of suggestingalternative conception
everythings is made of atomsall material substances found under normal conditions can be shown to contain atomic cores surrounded by electronsif we could examine all materials we would find they are comprised of lots of discrete atoms just stuck together
everything is made from atomswe can envisage that any substance could be built up by chemiclly joining together a certain number of atoms of various elements – all molecules and other structures can be imagined as being built up from atomschemical reactions produce different substances by starting with lots of atoms of the relevant elements
We use shorthand – but do we always explain this?


The book  Student Thinking and Learning in Science: Perspectives on the Nature and Development of Learners' Ideas gives an account of the nature of learners' conceptions, and how they develop, and how teachers can plan teaching accordingly.

It includes many examples of student alternative conceptions in science topics.


Learning from one's own teaching analogy

Analogies are thinking tools as well as communication tools.


Keith S. Taber


Analogy is very familiar to science teachers as a tool for communicating ideas (one way to help 'make the unfamiliar familiar'), but analogies have also been important to research scientists themselves. Analogy can be a useful thinking tool for scientists, as well as a means of getting across novel ideas.

Indeed we might suggests that analogies have roles that might be described as exploratory, autodidactic, and pedagogic:

  • I wonder if it is like this? A creative source of ideas generating hypothesis to test out;
  • Ah, I see, it is like this! A tool for making sense of something that seems unfamiliar to us;
  • You see, it is somewhat like this… A tool for helping others to make sense of some novel or unfamiliar notion.

On this site, I have given quite a lot of attention to the pedagogic, communicative role of analogies as used by teachers – and also by other communicators of science such as journalists, and indeed sometimes also scientists themselves when writing for their colleagues. As well as discussing some teaching analogies in detail in blog postings, I've also compiled some examples I have come across from my reading and other sources (such as radio items).

Read about science analogies

I was recently using an analogy myself to communicate an idea as part of a talk I had been asked to give. I set up an analogy to illustrate four categories in a model of 'bugs' that can occur in teaching-learning when students either do not understand, or misunderstand (misinterpret), teaching. I was trying to explain an educational model to science teachers, so used some science (that I assumed would be familiar to the audience) as the analogue.

An analogy involves a comparison between the structures of two systems where there is an explicit mapping to show similar structural features between the two systems – the analogue being used to explain and the target being explained. (If that sounds a bit obscure, there is an example presented in the table below).

Analogy as a thinking tool

I readily found 'mappings' for my four categories, so my analogy 'worked' (for me!) But, in working out the analogy, I realised that there was an additional option, a variation on one of the categories, that I had not fully appreciated. That is, by thinking about an analogy, I discovered a potential mapping back to my model that I had not expected, so the act of developing an analogy (meant to communicate the idea) actually deepened my own understanding of the model.

This is just the kind of thinking that analogy as an exploratory tool can offer (even if that was not how I was intending to use the analogy). This did not lead to a drastic rethinking of my model, but I thought it was interesting how working with the analogy could offer a slightly different insight into the original model.

Accommodating concepts

This puts me in mind of how concepts can both grow and then be modified by analogical thinking in science. For example, when (the substance that was to be named as) potassium was first discovered it had a combination of properties quite unlike any previously known substances. It seemed to share some – but not all – properties with the group of known substances referred to as metals, so it could be considered a metal by analogy with them. But for potassium (and then sodium) to be accepted as actual metals (not just partial analogies of metal) it was necessary to modify the set of properties considered essential to a substance that was classed as a metal (Taber, 2019).

Read about the Origin of a Chemical Concept: The Ongoing Discovery of Potassium

(Of course, it seems 'obvious' to us now that potassium and sodium are metals – but that is with the benefit of hindsight, as the metal concept we learnt about in chemistry had long since been adapted to 'accommodate' the alkali metals.)

Types of learning blocks

The 'target' material in my talk was the typology of learning impediments which is meant to set out the types of 'bugs' that can occur in a 'teaching learning system'. That is, when

"there is a teacher who wishes to teach some curriculum material that has been prepared for the class; and a learner, who is present; willing, and in a fit state, to learn; who is paying attention in class; and where there is a good communication channel, which will normally mean that the learner and teacher can see and hear each other clearly… even when this system exists, we cannot be confident the learner will always understand what is being taught in the manner intended"

Taber, 2023

The teacher-learner system – a learner, motivated to study, able to see and hear the teacher, and paying attention to the teacher's clear explanation of a scientific idea: "even when this system exists, we cannot be confident the learner will always understand what is being taught in the manner intended"


The model has four main categories of system 'bugs', organised in two overarching classes:

A null learning impediment meant the student failed to associate teaching with prior learning – that the teaching did not lead to the learning bringing to mind something that helped them make sense of the teaching. This could be because the expected prior learning had never happened, called a deficiency learning impediment; or because the relevance of prior learning was not appreciated (i.e., not associated), a so-called fragmentation learning impediment.

The two main types of substantive learning impediments involve the learner making sense of teaching in a way that does not match that intended, either because the relevant prior learning includes alternative conceptions, and so the learning is distorted by being understood within a conceptual framework that does not match the science; or through the teaching being understood in the context of some other prior learning that seemed relevant to the learner, but which, from the teacher's perspective, was not pertinent. These are referred to in the model as grounded learning impediments and associative learning impediments, respectively.

Taber, 2023

A typology of learning impediments: things that go wrong even when the teacher explains the concepts clearly, and the learner wants to learn and is paying attention.

Read about the typology of learning impediments


The analogy

The analogy that came to mind was from biochemistry (perhaps because I had recently been thinking about the metaphors and analogies in a book on that subject?) As meaningful learning requires teaching to be related to (fit into, anchor in, make sense of in terms of) some prior learning available to the learner, I envisaged learning as being analogous to some small molecule that in metabolism became bound to a protein (an enzyme perhaps) which was only possible because there was a good fit between the molecular configurations of the protein (a component of the learners' existing conceptual structure) and the metabolite (the information provided in teaching).


An analogy for learning – a metabolite will only bind to a protein if there is a good 'fit' between the structures.


So in my analogy, the mapping was:

analoguemaps totarget concept
binding of a metabolite to a proteinconceptual learning
proteinan aspect of the learner's existing conceptual structure
metabolitea 'quantum' of information presented in teaching
metabolite-protein complexnew information understood in terms of prior learning – new information assimilated to develop conceptual understanding

So, in my talk I represented learning, and the possible 'bugs' in learning, through simple animations, using the following signs:


Dramatis personae for the analogue…


These signs were somewhat arbitrary symbols, except that they had an iconic feature – a complicated shape representing the molecular conformation that could indicate the presence or absence of a binding site capable of leading to complex formation.

Learning was modelled as the binding of the metabolite (information presented in teaching) with the protein (an existing feature of conceptual structure) into a new complex (new information from teaching assimilated into prior learning).


Learning was seen as analogous to the binding of a metabolite to a protein…


Each of my four main types of learning block seemed to have a parallel in scenarios where the metabolite would not become tightly bound to the protein in the molecular analogue.

Impediments to assimilating the metabolite

The learner can only relate new information to prior learning if they have indeed learnt that material. If the teacher assumes that students have already learnt some prerequisite material but the learner has not (perhaps a previous teacher ran out of time and missed the topic; or the learner was off-school ill at the time; or the learner attended a lesson on the material, but made no sense of it; or the student attended a lesson on the material which made sense at the time, but the material was never reinforced in later lessons, so was never consolidated into long-term memory…) then this will be as if the target protein is missing from the cytosol, so there is no target structure for the metabolite to bind to:


…and the binding could not occur if the protein was not present…


Then, even if a student has the expected prior learning, they will only interpret new information in terms of it if they realise its relevance. Teachers may assume it is obvious what prior leaning is being relied upon to make sense of new teaching, but sometimes this prior learning is not triggered as pertinent and so 'brought to mind' by the learner. (Or, to be fair to the teacher, they may have even deliberately reminded students of the relevant prior learning just before introducing the new material, but without the learner realising this was meant to be linked in any way!)

So, this is as if the two molecules are both present in a cell's cytosol, but they never come close enough to interact and bind:


…and binding could not occur if the metabolite molecule did not come into contact with the protein…


Now students often have alternative conceptions ('misconceptions') of science topics. So, even if they do know about the topic that the new teaching is expected to develop for them, if they have a different understanding of the topic, then – although they may interpret the new information in terms of their existing understanding of the topic – they will likely understand the new teaching in a distorted way so it fits with their alternative take on the topic.

I thought that, in my analogy, an alternative conception was like a protein that was 'mis-structured' (as may happen if there are genetic mutations). If a mutation only subtly changes the shape of the binding site on the protein it is possible that the complex may form, but with a different, more strained, conformation. So, the new complex structure will not match the usual canonical structure.


…and a mutation may change the conformation of the binding site so that the metabolite does not bind as effectively * …


It was at that point that I realised there was another possibility here. I will return to that in a moment.

My fourth class of system bug, or learning impediment, involved a learner understanding teaching in terms of some material which (from the teacher's perspective) was unrelated. These creative links are sometimes made, and can be misleading (e.g., sleeping is like putting a battery on change, so it gives us energy).

So, this was like our metabolite colliding with a completely different protein, but one to which it could bind, before it reached our target protein. There is a fit, but within the 'wrong' overall structure – teaching is (subjectively) understood, but in a completely idiosyncratic and non-canonical way:


…intended binding may not occur if the metabolite first comes into contact with another molecule with which it can bind to form a different complex…


It was when I was drawing out my mutated protein, such that binding was strained to distort the complex (like a student interpreting teaching through an alternative understanding of the right topic, so the meaning of teaching gets distorted) that I realised a mutation could also lead to the protein lacking a viable binding site at all.

In this case the protein is present, but there was no way to bind the metabolite with it to form a complex. The learner has prior learning of the topic, but it is not possible to link the new information presented in teaching with it, as it would simply not fit with the learners' alternative understanding of the topic (as when for many years it was assumed by chemists that no noble gas compounds could be made because the inert gases had inherently stable electronic configurations which could not be disrupted by chemical processes).

So here the 'cause' of the lack of complex formation (a mutated protein / an alternative conceptual framework) could lead to two different outcomes – new information being distorted to fit in the alternative structure (like a protein with a slightly altered binding site) or new information not being linked with the prior topic learning at all (akin to a mutation meaning a protein had no viable binding site for forming a complex with the metabolite).

…* and I realised that a mutated protein may have no functioning binding site (rather than just a slightly distorted one) which leads to a different outcome.


So, consideration of my analogy brought home to me that the presence of an alternative conception may have different impacts depending on the extent of the differences between the students' thinking and the canonical scientific account.

Two types of 'mutated' prior learning?

What might these two possibilities, these different extents of mutated conceptions, mean in practice?

Consider a learner who is taught that 'plants do not need to be given food as they can manufacture their own food by photosynthesis'. If the learner has a notion of plants that includes fungi such as mushrooms and toadstools then the new information can 'bind' to the existing conceptual structure, but the learning will be 'strained' in the sense that the intended meaning is distorted (because the learner now thinks mushrooms and toadstool photosynthesise). This was the kind of example I had had in mind as a grounded learning impediment caused by a prior alternative conception.

By contrast, a deficiency learning impediment had reflected the absence of prerequisite learning needed to make sense of teaching (such as teaching that the bonds in methane are formed by the overlap of sp3 hybrid orbitals with the hydrogen 1s atomic orbitals to a student who had not previously been introduced to atomic orbitals).

However, the absence of prerequisite knowledge need not be due to having missed prior teaching, but could instead be having formed alternative conceptions so that the topic is represented in the learner's conceptual structure, but in a distorted ('mutated') version.

Consider the example of a teacher explaining properties of substances in terms of quanticle (nanoscopic particle) models. The teacher may explain that ionic salts tend to have high melting temperatures because the solids comprise of a lattice of strongly bonded ions which therefore takes a good deal of energy to disrupt.

A very common alternative conception of ionic bonding is based on the (false) idea that ionic bonds are formed by electron transfer from a metal atom to a non-metal atom. Often when a student acquires this alternative conception they understand the ionic solid to be composed of small units held together by ionic bonds (e.g., Na+-Cl), but held to each other by weaker forces. For a student holding this alternative conceptual framework ionic bonds are not easily disrupted by heating an ionic solid, but the weaker forces between the bonded units will easily be disrupted so that melting will occur. The student assumes the small units (such as NaCl ion pairs) are like molecules (or actually are molecules) that continue to exist in the liquid phase when a solid like ice melts.

This learner had existing prior learning of the ionic bonding concept, but because this was not canonical, but involved alternative conceptions, the new information did not fit with the prior learning (it could not 'bind' with the 'mutated' conceptual structure) so the intended learning did not occur – a kind of deficiency learning impediment.

So, a deficiency learning impediment is due to a lack of existing conceptual learning that the new information can bind to – but this may be either because there is no prior learning on the topic, or because alternative conceptions of aspects of the topic mean the conceptual structure has the wrong 'conformation' to be perceived as relating to the new information presented in teaching.

It is just a model

The model of kinds of learning impediments is just that – a model of conceptual learning. It is one that I found helpful in my own work, especially when researching student thinking. I hope it may offer some insights to others, including teachers. Any value it has is in informing our thinking about learning and the teaching that can promote it. The analogy discussed above is just a(nother) kind of model of that model – a teaching analogy to introduce an abstract idea

Here, I wanted to just share how I found my own use of the analogy as a teaching aid helped develop my own thinking about the target domain of student learning. Analogies are just models, but like all models they can be useful thinking tools as long as we remember that they only somewhat resemble, and are not the same as, the targets they are compared with.


Work cited


The book  Student Thinking and Learning in Science: Perspectives on the Nature and Development of Learners' Ideas gives an account of the nature of learners' conceptions, and how they develop, and how teachers can plan teaching accordingly.

It includes many examples of student alternative conceptions in science topics.


Making molecular mechanisms familiar

A reflection on the pedagogy in Andrew Scott's 'Vital Principles'


Keith S. Taber



Andrew Scott's introduction to the chemistry of the cell is populated by a diverse cast of characters, including ballot machines, beads; blind engineers and blind-folded art-seekers; builders and breaker's yards; cars, freight vehicles and boats; Christmas shoppers, dancers; gatecrashers (despite gatekeepers) and their hosts; invaders, jack-in-the-boxes, legal summonses, light bulbs, mixing bowls, maelstroms, music tapes, office blocks; oceans, seas, rivers, streams, floods and pools; skeletons and their bones, split personalities, springs; sorting offices and postal systems; turnstiles, the water cycle, water wheels, ropes, pulleys and pumps; work benches and work stations; and weeding and seaweed forests.


Scott, A. (1988). Vital Principles. The molecular mechanisms of life. Basil Blackwell.


The task of the popular science writer

This piece is not a formal review of, what is, now, hardly a recent title 1, but a reflection on an example of a science book aimed at – not a specific level of student, but – a more general audience. The author of a 'popular science book' has both a key advantage over the author of many science textbooks, and a challenge. The advantage is being able to define your own topic – deciding what you wish to cover and in how much detail. By contrast, a textbook author, certainly at a level related to formal national examination courses, has to 'cover' the specified material. 2

However the textbook author has the advantage of being able to rely on a fairly well defined model of the expected background of the readership. 3 Students taking 'A level' physics (for example) will be expected to have already covered a certain range of material at a known level through science teaching at school ('G.C.S.E. level') and to have also demonstrated a high level of competence against the school maths curriculum. This is important because human learning is incremental, and interpretive, and so iterative: we can only take in a certain amount of new material at any time, and we make sense of it in terms of our pool of existing interpretative resources (past learning and experiences, etc.) 4


The teacher or textbook author designs their presentation of material based on a mental model of the interpretive resources (e.g., prerequisite learning, familiar cultural referents that may be useful in making analogies or similes, etc.) available to, and likely to be activated in the mind of, the learner when engaging with the presentation.


So, the science teacher works with a model of the thinking of the students, so as to pitch material in manageable learning quanta, that should relate to the prior learning. The teacher's mental model can never be perfect, and consequently teaching-learning often fails (so the good teacher becomes a 'learning doctor' diagnosing where things have gone wrong). However, at least the teacher has a solid starting point, when teaching 11 year olds, or 15 year olds, or new undergraduates, or whatever.

The textbook author shares this, but the popular science author has a potential readership of all ages and nationalities and levels of background in the subject. Presumably the reader has some level of interest in the topic (always helpful to support engagement) but beyond that…

Now the role of the science communicator – be they research scientist with a general audience, teacher, lecturer, textbook author, journalist, documentary producer, or popular science author – is to make what is currently unfamiliar to the learner into something familiar. The teacher needs to make sure the learners both have the prerequisite background for new teaching and appreciate how the new material relates to and builds upon it. Even then, they will often rely on other techniques to make the unfamiliar familiar – such as offfering analogies and similes, anthropomorphism, narratives, models, and so forth.

Read about making the unfamiliar familiar

As the popular science writer does not know about the background knowledge and understanding of her readers, and, indeed, this is likely to be extremely varied across the readership, she has to reply more on these pedagogic tactics. Or rather, a subset of these ways of making the unfamiliar familiar (as the teacher can use gestures, and computer animations, and physical models; and even get the class to role-play, say, electrons moving through a circuit, or proteins binding to enzymes). Thus, popular science books abound with analogies, similes, metaphors and the like – offering links between abstract scientific concepts, and what (the author anticipates) are phenomena or ideas familiar to readers from everyday life. In this regard, Andrew Scott does not disappoint.

Andrew Scott

Scott's website tells us he has a B.Sc. in biochemistry from Edinburgh, and a Ph.D. from Cambridge in chemistry, and that he has produced "science journalism published by academic publishers, newspapers, magazines and websites", and he is an "author of books translated into many languages". I have not read his other books (yet), but thought that Vital Principles did a good job of covering a great deal of complex material – basically biochemistry. It was fairly introductory (so I doubt much could be considered outdated) but nonetheless tackled a challenging and complex topic for someone coming to the book with limited background.

I had a few quibbles with some specific points made – mainly relating to the treatment of underpinning physics and chemistry 5 – but generally enjoyed the text and thinking about the various comparisons the author made in order to help make the unfamiliar familiar to his readership.

Metaphors for molecular mechanisms

Andrew Scott's introduction to the chemistry of the cell is populated by a diverse cast of characters, including ballot machines, beads; blind engineers and blind-folded art-seekers; builders and breaker's yards; cars, freight vehicles and boats; Christmas shoppers, dancers; gatecrashers (despite gatekeepers) and their hosts; invaders, jack-in-the-boxes, legal summonses, light bulbs, mixing bowls, maelstroms, music tapes, office blocks; oceans, seas, rivers, streams, floods and pools; skeletons and their bones, split personalities, springs; sorting offices and postal systems; turnstiles, the water cycle, water wheels, ropes, pulleys and pumps; work benches and work stations; and weeding and seaweed forests.

A wide range of metaphors are found in the book. Some are so ubiquitous in popular science discourse that it may be objected they are not really metaphors at all. So, do "… 'chloroplasts'…trap the energy of sunlight…"? This is a simplification of course (and Scott does go into some detail of the process), but does photosynthesis actually 'trap' the energy of sunlight? That is, is this just a simplification, or is it a figurative use of language? Scott is well aware that energy is not a concept it is easy to fully appreciate,

"Energy is really an idea invented by mankind, rather than some definite thing…

energy can be thought of as some sort of 'force resistance' or 'antiforce' able to counteract the pushes or pulls of the fundamental forces."

pp.25-26

But considerable ingenuity has been used in making the biochemistry of the cell familiar through metaphor:

  • lipids "have split personalities" (and they have 'heads' and 'tails' of course)
  • proteins can "float around within a sea of lipid"
  • proteins are "the molecular workers"
  • the inside of cells can be a "seething 'metabolite pool' – a maelstrom of molecules"; "a swirling sea of chemical activity…the seething sea of metabolism" (so, some appealing alliteration, as well, here 6);
  • the molecules of the cell cytosol are "dancing"
  • "...small compressed springs of ATP, can be used to jack up the chemistry of the cell…"
  • "…thermal motion turns much of the chemical microworld into a molecular mixing bowl."
  • "The membranes of living cells…form a boundary to all cells, and they cordon off specific regions within a cell into distinct organelles."
  • "Some of these gatecrashers within other cells would then have slowly evolved into the mitochondria and chloroplasts of present-day life..."
  • "the 'Ca2+ channels' to open up, this causes Ca2+ ions to flood into the cell …"
  • "the 'ribosomes' … are the chemical automatons"

The figurative flavour of the author's language is established early in the book,

"In a feat of stunning self-regulating choreography, billions of atoms, molecules and ions become a part of the frantic dance we call life. Each revolution of our planet in its stellar spotlight raises a little bit of the dust of earth into the dance of life, while a little bit of the life crumbles back into dust."

p.1

Phew – there is quite a lot going on there. Life is a dance, moreover a frantic dance, of molecular level particles: but not some random dance (though it relies on molecular motion that is said to be a random dance, p.42), rather one that is choreographed, indeed, self-choreographed. Life has agency. It is a dance that is in some sense powered by the revolution of the earth (abound its axis? around its star?) which somehow involves the cycling of dust into, and back out, of life – dust to dust. The reference to a stellar spotlight seems at odds with the Sun as symmetrically radiating in all directions out into the cosmos – the earth moves through that radiation field, but could not escape it by changing orbit. Perhaps this image is meant to refer to how the daily rotation of the earth brings its surface into, and out of, illumination.

So, there is not a spotlight in any literal, sense (the reference to "the central high energy furnace", p.39, is perhaps a more accurate metaphor), but the 'stellar spotlight' is a metaphor that offers a sense of changing illumination.

Similarly, the choreographed dance is metaphorical. Obviously molecules do not dance (a deliberate form of expression), but this gives an impression of the molecular movement within living things. That movement is not choreographed in the sense of something designed by a creator. But something has led to the apparently chaotic movements of billions of molecules and ions, of different kinds, giving rise to highly organised complex entities (organisms) emerging from all this activity. Perhaps we should think of one of those overblown, heavily populated, dance sequences in Hollywood films of the mid 20th century (e.g., as lampooned in Mel Brook's Oscar winning 'The Directors')?

So, in Vital Principles, Scott seeks to make the abstract and complex ideas of science seem familiar through metaphors that can offer a feel for the basic ideas of biochemistry. The use of metaphor in science teaching and other forms of science communication is a well established technique.

Read about science metaphors


Nature and nurture

Later in the book a reader will find that the metaphorical choreographer is natural selection, and natural selection is just the tautological selection of what can best reproduce itself in the environment in which it exists,

"…the brute and blind force of natural selection can be relied upon to weed out the harmful mutations and nurture the beneficial ones. We must always remember, however, that the criterion by which natural selection judges mutations as harmful or beneficial is simply the effect of the mutations on an organism's ability to pass its genetic information on to future generations."

p.182

So, natural selection is a force which is brute and blind (more metaphors) and is able to either weed out (yes, another metaphor) or nurture. That is an interesting choice of term given the popular (but misleadingly over-simplistic) contrast often made in everyday discourse between 'nature' (in the sense of genetics) and 'nurture' (in the sense of environmental conditions). Although natural selection is 'blind', it is said to be able to make judgements.

Form and function in biology

Here we enter one of the major issues in teaching about biology: at one level, that of a naturalistic explanation 7, there is no purpose in life: and anatomical structures, biochemical processes, even instinctive behaviours, have no purpose – they just are; and because they were components of complexes of features that were replicated, they have survived (and have 'survival value').

Yet, it seems so obvious that legs are for walking, eyes are for seeing, and the heart's function is to pump blood around the body. A purist would deny each of these (strictly these suggestions are teleological) and replace each simple statement with a formally worded paragraph completely excluding any reference to, or hint at, purpose.

So, although it seems quite natural to write

"…hormones… are released from one cell to influence the activity of other cells;

…neurotransmitters…are released from nerve cells to transmit a nerve impulse…"

pp.120-121

we might ask: is this misleading?

One could argue that in this area of science we are working with a model which is founded on the theory of natural selection and which posits the evolved features of anatomy, physiology, biochemistry,etc., that increase fitness are analogous to designed and purposeful features that support the project of the continuation of life.

Something that scientists are very quick to deny (that organisms have been designed with purposes in mind) is nevertheless the basis of a useful analogy (i.e., we can consider the organism as if a kind of designed system that has coordinated component parts that each have roles in maintaining the 'living' status of the overall system). We then get the economy of language where

  • hormones and neurotransmitters are released for 'this' purpose, to carry out 'that' function;

being selected (!) over

  • more abstract and complex descriptions of how certain patterns of activity are retained because they are indirectly selected for along with the wider system they are embedded in.

Do scientists sometimes forget they are working with a model or analogy here? I expect so. Do learners appreciate that the 'functions' of organs and molecules in the living thing are only figurative in this sense? Perhaps, sometimes, but – surely -more often, not; and this probably both contributes to, and is encouraged by, the known learning demand of appreciating the "blind [nature of the] force of natural selection".

Scott refers to proteins having a particular task (language which suggests purpose and perhaps design) whilst being clear he is only referring to the outcomes of physical interactions,

"A protein folds up into a conformation which is determined by its amino acid sequence, and which presents to the environment around it a chemical surface which allows the protein to perform its particular chemical task; and the folding and the performance of the task (and, indeed, the creation of the protein in the first place) all proceed automatically governed only by physical laws and forces of nature – particularly the electromagnetic force."

pp.54-55

In practice, biologists and medical scientists – and indeed the rest of us – find it much more convenient to understand organisms in terms of form and function. That is fine if you always keep in mind that natural selection only judges mutations metaphorically. Natural selection is not the kind of entity which can make a judgement, but it is a process that we can conceptualise as if it makes judgements.

This is a difficult balancing act:

"Nature is a blind but a supremely effective engineer. Through the agency of undirected mutation she continually adjusts the structure and the mechanisms of the living things on earth."

p.182

Nature is here treated as if a person: she is an engineer tinkering with her mechanisms. Personification of nature is a long-standing trope, once common among philosophers and not always eschewed by scientists in their writings (e.g., Nicolaus Copernicus, Henri Poincaré, Michael Faraday, even Albert Einstein have personified Nature) – and she is always female.

But usually a competent engineer tinkers according to a plan, or at least with a purpose in mind, whereas nature's tinkering is here described as 'undirected' – it is like she arbitrarily changes the size of a gear or modifies the steam pressure in a cylinder or changes the number of wheels on the locomotive, and then tinkers some more with those that stay on the tracks and manage to keep moving.

Read about personification in science

"All proteins begin life…"

Anthropomorphism: living metaphors

Personification (by referring to her, she, etc.) is not needed to imply entities have some human traits. Indeed, a very common pedagogic technique used when explaining science, anthropomorphism, is to use a kind of metaphorical language which treats inanimate objects or non-human beings as if they are people – as if they can feel, and think, and plan, and desire; and so forth.

  • "Once an enzyme had met and captured the required starting materials …"
  • "Some [non-protein metabolites] act as 'coenzymes', which becomes bound to enzymes and help them to perform their catalytic tasks."
  • "Cells, which had previously been aggressively independent individualists, discovered the advantages of communal life."
  • "descendants of cells which took up residence within other cells and then became so dependent on their hosts, and also so useful to them, that neither hosts nor gatecrashers could afford to live apart."

So, for example, plants are living beings, but do not have a central nervous system and do not experience and reflect on life as people do: so, they do not wish for things,

"…the oxidation of sugars, is also performed by plants when they wish to convert some of their energy stores (largely held in the form of complex carbohydrates) back into ATP."

p.144

Again, such phrasing offers economy of language. Plants do not wish, but any technically correct statement would likely be more complicated and so, arguably, more difficult to appreciate.

Dead metaphors

A key issue in discussing metaphors is that in many cases different readers are likely to disagree over whether a term is indeed being used figuratively or literally. Language is fluid (metaphorically speaking), and a major way language grows is where the need for new terms (to denote newly invented artefacts or newly discovered phenomena) is satisfied by offering an existing term as a metaphor. Often, in time the metaphor becomes adopted as standard usage – so, no longer a metaphor. These examples are sometimes called dead metaphors (or clichéd metaphors). So, for example, at some point, many decades ago, astronomers started to talk of the 'life cycle' of stars which have a moment of 'birth' and eventual 'death'. These metaphors have become so established they are now treated as formal terms in the language of the discipline, regularly used in academic papers as well as more general discourse (see 'The passing of stars: Birth, death, and afterlife in the universe').

So, when Scott writes of "how some micro-organism, say a virus, invades the body…"(p.109) it is very likely most readers will not notice 'invade' as being a metaphor, as this usage is widely used and so probably familiar. The (former?) metaphor is extended to describe selective immune components "binding to foreign invaders [that] can act as a very effective means of defence against disease." These terms are very widely used in discussing infections: though of course there are substantive differences, as well as similarities, with when a country defends itself against actual foreign invaders.

I suspect that considering the lipid bilayer to be "a stable sandwich of two layers of lipid molecules" (p.115) is for many, a dead metaphor. The reference to a DNA double-helix leading to"two daughter double-helices" reflects how atomic nuclei and cells are said to give rise to 'daughters' on fission: again terminology that has become standard in the field.

Sharing a psuedo-explanation for covalent bonding

One phrase that seems to have become a dead metaphor is the notion of electrons being 'shared' in molecules, which "…are formed when their constituent atoms come together to leave at least some of their electrons shared between them" (pp.28-29). Whilst this seems harmless as a description of the structure, it is also used as an explanation of the bonding:

"'hydrogen molecules and water molecules (and all other molecules) are held together by virtue of the fact that electrons are shared between the individual atoms involved, a similarity recognised by saying that in such cases the atoms are held together by 'covalent' bonds.

p.29

But we might ask: How does 'sharing' a pair of electrons explain the molecule being 'held together'? Perhaps a couple with a strained relationship might be held together by sharing a house; or two schools in a confederation by sharing a playing field; or two scuba divers might be held together if the breathing equipment of one had failed so that they only had one functioning oxygen cylinder shared between them?

In these examples, there is of course a sense of ownership involved. Atoms do not 'own' 'their' electrons: the only bonds are electromagnetic; not legal or moral. This may seem so obvious it does not deserve noting: but some learners do come to think that the electrons are owned by specific atoms, and therefore can be given, borrowed, stolen, and so forth, but should ultimately return to their 'own' atom! So, if we acknowledge that there is no ownership of electrons, then what does it even mean for atoms to 'share' them?

So, why would two atoms, each with an electron, become bound by pooling these resources? (Would sharing two houses keep our couple with a strained relationship together; or just offer them a ready way to separate?) The metaphor does not seem to help us understand, but the notion of a covalent bond as a shared electron pair is so well-established that the description commonly slips into an explanation without the explainer noticing it is only a pseudo-explanation (a statement that has the form of an explanation but does not explain anything, e.g., "a covalent bond holds two atoms together because they share a paired of electrons").

Read about types of pseudo-explanation

Elsewhere in the book Scott does explain (if still anthropomorphically) that viable reactions occur because:

"In the new configuration, in other words, the electromagnetic forces of attraction and repulsion between all the electrons and nuclei involved might be more fully satisfied, or less 'strained' than they were before the reaction took place."

p.36

How are metaphors interpreted?

The question that always comes to my mind when I see metaphorical language used in science communication, is how is this understood by the audience? Where I am reading about science that I basically understand reasonably well (and I was a science teacher for many years, so I suspect I cannot be seen a typical reader of such a book) I do reflect on the metaphors and what they are meant to convey. But that means I am often using the familiar science to think about the metaphor, whereas the purpose of the metaphor is to help someone who does not already know the science get a take on it. This leads me to two questions:

  • to what extent does the metaphor give the reader a sense of understanding the science?
  • to what extent does the metaphor support the reader in acquiring an understanding that matches the scientific account?

These are genuine questions about the (subjective and objective) effectiveness of such devices for making the science familiar. There is an interesting potential research programme there.


Shifting to similes

The difference between metaphors and similes is how they are phrased. Both make a comparison between what is being explained/discussed and something assumed to be more familiar. A metaphor describes the target notion as being the comparison (nature is an engineer), but the listener/reader is expected to realise this is meant figuratively, as a comparison. A simile makes the comparison explicit. The comparison is marked – often by the use of 'as' or 'like' as when physicist Max Planck suggested that the law of conservation of energy was "like a sacred commandment".

Read about examples of similes in science

So, when Scott refers to how proteins "act as freight vehicles transporting various chemicals around the body", and "as chemical messages which are sent from one cell to another" (p.10), these are similes.

Springs are used as similes for the interactions between molecules or ions in solids or the bonds within molecules

"…even in solids the constituent molecules and atoms and ions are constantly jostling against one another and often vibrating internally like tiny sub-microscopic springs. All chemical bonds behave a bit like tiny springs, constantly being stretched and compressed as the chemicals they are part of are jostled about by the motion of the other chemicals all around them."

p.39

[Actually the bonds in molecules or crystals are behaving like springs because of the inherent energy of the molecule or lattice: the 'jostling' can transfer energy between molecules/ions and 'springs' so that the patterns of "being stretched and compressed" change, but it is always there. The average amount of 'jostling' depends on the temperature of the material. 5]

In the way the word is usually used in English, jostling is actually due to the deliberate actions of agents – pushing through a crowd for example, so strictly jostling here can be seen as an anthropomorphic metaphor, but the intended meanings seems very clear – so, I suspect many readers will not even have noticed this was another use of figurative language.


One way of marking phrases meant as similes is putting then in inverted commas, so-called scare-quotes, as in

"A rather simple chemical 'cap', for example, is added to the start of the RNA, while a long 'tail' consisting of many copies of the nucleotide A is added to its end…The most significant modifications to the precursor, however, involve the removal of specific portions from the interior [sic] of the RNA molecule, and the joining together of the remaining portions into mature mRNA… This 'splicing' process …"

p.79

Here we have something akin to a cap, and something akin to a tail. As noted above, a difficulty in labelling terms as metaphors or similes is that language is not static, but constantly changing. In science we often see terms borrowed metaphorically from everyday life to label a technical process as being somewhat like something familiar – only for the term to become adopted within the field as a technical term. The adopted terms become literal, with a related, but somewhat different – and usually more precise – meaning in scientific discourse. (This can be the basis of one class of learning impediments as students may not realise the familiar term has specials affordances or restrictions in its technical context.)

Here 'splicing' is marked as a simile – there is a process seen as somewhat similar to how, for example, radio programmes and musical recordings used to be edited by the cutting and resequencing strips of magnetic tape. Yet gene splicing is now widely accepted as a literal use of splicing, rather than being considered figurative. [I suspect a young person who was told about, for example, the Beatles experiments with tape splicing might guess the term is used because the process is like gene splicing!]

The following quote marks a number of similes by placing them within inverted commas:

"The interior of the cell is criss-crossed by a network of structural proteins which is known as the cytoskeleton. The long protein 'bones' of this skeleton are formed by the spontaneous aggregation of many individual globular protein molecules…

Cells use many strong chemical 'pillars' and 'beams' and 'glues' and 'cements', both inside them, to hold the internal structure of cells together, and outside of them, to hold different cells together; but the electromagnetic force is the fundamental 'glue' upon which they all depend."

pp.995-6

Again the phrasing here suggests something being deliberately undertaken towards some end by an active agent (teleology): the cell uses these construction materials for a purpose.

There are various other similes offered – some marked with inverted commas, some with explicit references to being comparisons ('kind of', 'act as', 'sort of', etc.)

  • "…amino acids comprise the chemical 'alphabet' from which the story of protein-based life (i.e., all life on earth) is constructed"
  • "the endoplasmic reticulum is a kind of molecular 'sorting office'"
    • endosomes and lysomes "form a kind of intracellular digestive system and 'breaker's yard'."
    • "Proteins can act as gatekeepers of the cell…"
    • "Proteins can…act as chemical controllers"
    • proteins "can act as defensive weapons"
    • "The proteins which perform these feats are not gates, but 'pumps'..."
    • "Proteins could be described as the molecular workers which actually construct and maintain all cells…"
    • "…proteins are the molecular 'labourers' of life, while genes are the molecular 'manuals' which store the information needed to make new generations of protein labourers"
    • "Membrane proteins often float around within a sea of lipid (although they can also be 'held at anchor' in the one spot if required)"
    • "A ribosome travels down its attached mRNA, a bit like a bead running down a thread (or sometimes like a thread being pulled through a bead)..."
    • "…the 'ribosomes' – molecular 'work-benches' composed of protein and RNA…"
    • Nucleic acids "act as genetic moulds"
    • "the high energy structure of ATP really is very similar to the high energy state of a compressed spring"
    • "Some vital non-protein metabolites act as a sort of 'energy currency'…"

Advancing to analogies

Metaphors and similes point out a comparison, without detailing the nature and limits of that comparison. A key feature of an analogy is there is a 'structural mapping': that is that two systems can be represented as having analogous structural features. In practice, the use of analogy goes beyond suggesting there is a comparison, to specifying, at least to some degree, how the analogy maps onto the target.

Read about examples of analogies in science

Scott employs a number of analogies for readers. He develops the static image of the cell skeleton (met above) with its 'bones', 'pillars' and 'beams' into a dynamic scenario:

"Structural proteins are often referred to as the molecular scaffolding of life, and the analogy is quite apt since so many structural proteins are long fibres or rods; but we think of scaffolding as a static, unchanging, framework. Imagine, however, a structure built of scaffolding in which some of the scaffolding rods were able to slide past one another and then hold the whole framework in new positions."

p.96

Many good metaphors/similes may be based upon comparisons of this type, but they do not become analogies until this is set out, rather than being left to the listener/reader to deduce. For this reason, analogies are better tools to use in teaching than similes as they do not rely on the learners inferring (guessing?) what the points of comparison are intended to be. 8

So, Scott offers the simile of molecules released as 'messengers', but then locates this in the analogy of the postal system, before using another analogy to specify the kind of message being communicated,

"Cells achieve such chemical communication in various ways, but the most vital way is by releasing chemical 'messenger' molecules (the biological equivalent of the postal system, if you like analogies), and many of these messengers are either proteins, or small fragments of proteins."

"A biological messenger molecular is more like a legal summons than a friendly note or some junk mail advertisement – it commands the target cell to react in a precise way to the arrival of the message."

pp.102-103


In the following analogy the mapping is very clear:

"One gene occupies one region of a chromosome containing many genes, much like one song occupies one region of a music tape containing many songs overall."

p.7

Song on music tape is to gene on chromosome


For an analogy to be explicit the mapping between target and analogue must be clear, as here, where Scott spells out how workstations on a production line map onto enzymes,

"The production line analogy is a very good one. The individual 'work stations' are the enzymes, and at these molecular work stations various chemical components are brought together and fashioned into some new component of product. The product of one enzyme can then pass down the line, to become the substrate of the next enzyme, and so on until the pathway is complete."

p.147

Some analogies offer a fairly basic mapping between relatively simple systems:

"If there is lots of A around in the cell, for example, then the rate at which A tends to meet up with enzyme EAB will obviously increase (just as an increase in the number of people you happen to know entering a fairground will increase the chances of you meeting up with someone you know)."

p.150
fairgroundcell
people at a fairgroundmolecules in the cytosol
you at the fairgrounda specific enzyme in the cytosol
people entering the fairground that know you personallymolecules of a type that binds to the specific enzyme
chance of you meeting someone you knowrate of collision between enzyme and the specific molecules it binds to

An analogy with a vote counting machine


Scott compares a nerve cell, the activity of each of which is influenced by a large number of 'input' signals, to a ballot counting machine,

"…most nerve cells receive inputs, in the form of neurotransmitters, from many different cells, so the 'decision' about whether or not the cell should fire depends on the net effect of all the different inputs, some of which will be excitatory, and some inhibitory, with the pattern of input perhaps varying all the time.

So any single nerve cells acts like an [sic] tiny automatic ballot machine, assessing the number of 'yes' and 'no' votes entering it at any one time and either firing or not firing depending on which type of vote predominates at any one time.

…Nerve cells receive electrochemical signals from other cells, and each signal represents a 'yes' or a 'no' vote in an election to determine whether the cell should fire."

pp.166-8


Turnstiles in Alewife station, image from Wikimedia Commons (GNU Free Documentation License)

Scott uses the image of a turnstile, a device that blocks entry unless triggered by a coin or ticket, and which automatically locks once a person has passed through, as a familiar analogue for an ion channel into a cell. The mapping is not spelt out in detail, but should be clear to anyone familiar with turnstiles of this kind,

"When it is sitting in a polarised membrane, this protein is in a conformational state in which it is unable to allow any ions to pass through the cell. When the membrane around it becomes depolarised, however, the protein undergoes a conformational change which causes it briefly to form a channel through which Na+ ions can pass. The channel only remains open for a short time, however, since the conformational upheaval [sic] of the protein continues until it adopts a new conformation in which the passage of Na+ ions is once again blocked. The overall effect of this conformational change is a bit like the operation of a turnstile – it moves from one conformation which prevents anything from passing, into a new conformation which also prevents anything from passing, but in the process of changing from one conformation to another there is a brief period during which a channel allowing passage through is opened up."

p.163

An analogy between a sodium ion channel in a membrane, and a turnstile of the kind sometimes used to give entry to a sporting ground or transport system.


Whether there is an absolute distinction between metaphors/similes and analogies in practice can be debated. So, for example, Scott goes beyond simply suggesting that the nanoscale of molecules is like a mixing bowl, but does not offer a simple mapping between systems,

"Thermal motion turns much of the chemical microworld into a 'molecular mixing bowl' … So the solution of the cytosol acts as an all pervading chemical sea in which many of the chemicals of life are mixed together by random thermal motion as if in a molecular mixing bowl."

p.40

We could see the ocean as a simile (marked by 'acts as an') and the mixing bowl as another (marked by the scare quotes, and then 'as if in a') – but there is a partial mapping with a macroscopic mixing bowl: we are told (i) what is mixed, and (ii) the agent that mixes at the molecular scale, but it is assumed that we already know these should map to (i) the ingredients of a dish being mixed by (ii) a cook.

In places, then, Scott seems to rely on his readers to map features of analogies themselves. For example, in the following (where "The chaos of a large department store on Christmas Eve, or during the January sales, is a reasonable analogy [for the cell, as] there is order and logic within a scene of frantic and often seemingly chaotic activity"), the general point about scale was well made, but (for this reader, at least) the precise mapping remained obscure,

"The frantic chaos of chemistry proceeds too fast and too remotely for us to follow it without great difficulty. We are in the position of airborne observers who see trainloads of shoppers flowing into the city on Christmas Eve morning, and trainloads of the same shoppers laden with purchases flowing back to the suburbs in the evening. From the air we can see the overall effect of suburban shoppers 'reacting' with the shops full of goods, but we remain unaware of the hidden random chaos which allows the reaction to proceed!

p.44

Perhaps other readers immediately see this, but I am not sure what the shoppers are: molecules? but then they are unchanged by reactions? As they flow together into and out of the city (cell?) they could be ions in a nerve cell, but then what are the purchases they carry away (and have they paid for them in energy)? What are the trains? (ion channels? ribosomes?) What are the shops (mitochondria)? Perhaps I am trying to over-interpret an image that is not meant to be specific – but elsewhere Scott seems to have designed his analogies carefully to have specific mappings.


A reference to "a cofactor called 'heme' which actually acts as the chemical vessel on which the oxygen is carried"seems, by itself to be a metaphor, but when read in the context of text that precedes it, seems part of a more developed analogy:

"The most obvious system of bulk transport in the human body is the blood, which flows through our arteries, capillaries and veins like a 'river of life', bringing chemical raw materials (oxygen, water and food) to every cell of the body, and taking waste products away. Within this bulk system, however, the actual job of transporting specific substances is sometimes performed by small 'freighters' such as individual blood cells and even individual protein molecules."

p.98

The precise form of transport acting as an analogue shifts when the discussion shifts from the transport process itself to what I might refer to as the loading and unloading of the 'freighter',

"So the binding of one oxygen molecule to one subunit of an empty [sic] haemoglobin complex greatly encourages the binding of oxygen to the other three available sites. This makes the multi-subunit haemoglobin complex a bit like a four-seater car in which the first person into the car unlocks the door for another three passengers. The crucial step in loading the car is getting the first person in, after which the first person helps all the others to climb aboard.

An opposite effect occurs when loaded haemoglobin reaches a tissue in need of oxygen: the loss of one oxygen molecule from one subunit causes a conformational change in the complex which allows the other three oxygen molecules to be off-loaded much more readily. A suitable analogy to this would be an unstable four-man boat, since, if one man jumps overboard, he may rock the boat sufficiently to make the other three fall out!"

pp.100-101

Why is a child like an office block?

Child is to zygote as office building is to light bulb? (Images from Pixabay)


Scott compares the development of the child from a single cell with a self-assembling office block,

"When a human egg cell begins to divide and create a newborn child it achieves an enlargement equivalent to a lightbulb giving rise to a massive office block 250 metres high; which then, over the next 15 years or so, stretches and widens to an astounding 1,000 metres in height and nearly 250 metres across. In the 'office block' that is you all the plumbing, heating, lighting, telecommunication and ventilation systems were assembled automatically and work together smoothly to sustain a bewildering diversity of very different 'suites' and 'offices'.

p.4

Scott later revisits his office analogy, though now the building is not the growing organism, but just a single cell (one of the 'offices' from the earlier analogy?),

"Cells are not stable and unchanging structures like office blocks. Instead, most parts of a cell are in a state of continual demolition and renewal, known as 'metabolic turnover'. Imagine an office block in which a large team of builders is constantly moving through, knocking down existing walls and using the bricks to build up new ones; ripping apart the furniture and then reassembling it into new forms; peeling off wallpaper, then using it as the raw material to produce new paper which is then put back up again; and all the time some new materials are arriving through the door, to assist in the continual rebuilding, while some of the older materials are constantly being discarded out of the windows. The living cells is in a very similar siltation, with teams of enzymes constantly ripping down the structure of the cell while other teams of enzymes build it up.

Life in the office block imagined earlier might sometimes be a little difficult and chaotic, but at least when change was required it could be brought about quickly, since the necessary tradesmen and supplies would always be on hand; and any mistakes made during the building process could always quickly be put right. Metabolic turnover bestows similar advantages on the living cell."

pp.118-119

The reference to 'teams' of enzymes is another subtle anthropomorphic metaphor. Those in a team are conscious of team membership and coordinate their activities towards a common goal – or at least that is the ideal. Enzymes may seem to be working together, but that is a just a slant we put on processes. Presumably the two sets of teams of enzymes (a catabolic set and an anabolic set) map onto the large team of builders – albeit the enzymes seem to be organised into more specialised working teams than the builders.


Some of Scott's prose, then, combines different ways of making the science familiar, as when he tells the reader

"Water, in other words, is the solvent of life, meaning that it is the liquid which permeates into all the nooks and crannies of the cell and in which all the chemical reactions of life take place. There are various small regions of the cell from which water is excluded, especially within the interior of some large molecules; but the chemistry of life largely proceeds in an ocean of water. It is not a clear ocean – thousands of different types of chemical are dissolved in it, and it is criss-crossed by a dense tangle of giant molecules which form 'fibres' or 'cables' or 'scaffolding' throughout the cell. Swimming through the cell 'cytosol' (the internal 'fluid' of the cell) would be like struggling through a dense underwater forest of seaweed, or through a thick paste or jelly, rather than darting though clear ocean."

p.6

On the molecular level, the water inside of a cell is "an ocean" (a metaphor), which can access the "nooks and crannies of the cell" (a metaphor). The ocean is interrupted by "giant molecules which form 'fibres' or 'cables' or 'scaffolding'…" These terms seem to be used as similes, marked by the use of inverted commas, although Scott also uses this convention to introduce new terms – 'cytosol' is not a simile. Presumably 'fluid' (marked by inverted commas) is being used as a simile as the cytosol is not a pure liquid, but a complex solution.

[The quote implies that "It is not a clear ocean – [as/because] thousands of different types of chemical are dissolved in it", but dissolved solutes would not stop a solution being clear: the actual ocean is very salty, with many different types of ions dissolved in it, but can be clear. Lack of transparency would be due to material suspended, but not actually dissolved, in the water.]

If this is a metaphorical ocean, it is an ocean that would be difficult to swim in, as the tangle of giant molecules is analogous to "a dense underwater forest of seaweed" so it would be like swimming trough "a thick paste or jelly".


The water cycle of life

Perhaps the pièce de résistance in terms of an analogy adopted in the book was the use of a comparison between metabolism and the water cycle,

"I have drawn an analogy between the creation of living things containing many high energy chemicals (i.e. those in which the electromagnetic force is resisted much more than it could be), and the raising water vapour from the sea into the sky. We can continue with this analogy as we look deeper into the energetics of the living cell."

pp.126-127

Scott does indeed develop the analogy, as can be seen from the quotations parsed into the table below:

target conceptanalogue
"…thermodynamic law determines that the energy of the sun must disperse out to the earth and raise the energy level of the things that are found there.
The raw materials of life are some of the things that are found there, and the energy from the sun raises these raw materials up into the higher energy levels associated with organised life,
just as
it raises water up into the sky and deposits some of it in tidy little mountain pools."
"…I have drawn an analogy between
the creation of living things containing many high energy chemicals…
and
the raising water vapour from the sea into the sky."
"The raising of water to the skies is not an isolated and irreversible event, but part of a cycle in which the water eventually loses the energy gained from the sun and returns to the earth as rain, only to absorb some more energy and be lifted up once more, and so on…
Similarly, of course,
the creation of a living being such as yourself is not an isolated and irreversible event, but is part of a cycle of life and death, of growth and decay…"
"If we look inside the chemical mechanisms of the living cell we find that they can harness the energy available in the environment, most of which ultimately comes from the sun,
in a manner similar to
the [person] who has built a water wheel, a pump, a reservoir and many secondary wheels used to power many different tasks…."
"In living things
the roles of
the water-wheels and pumps
are played by
various systems of proteins and membranes,
whilst
the the most common immediate energy reservoir is a chemical known as 'adenosine triphosphate' (ATP).
ATP is the cell's
equivalent of
water stored in a high level reservoir or a tank
because
it takes an energy input to make it, while energy is given out when it breaks apart into ADP and phosphate."
"The considerable resistance to the electromagnetic force embodied in the structure of ATP imposes a strain on the ATP molecule.
It is like
the compressed spring of a jack-in-the-box just waiting to be released;
and when it is released in some appropriate chemical reaction, then the energy level of the molecule falls as it splits up into ADP and phosphate.
Just as the force of water falling from a high gravitational energy level to a lower one can be harnessed to make various energy-requiring processes proceed,
so
the force of an ATP molecule falling from a high chemical energy level to a lower one can be harnessed to make a wide variety of energy-requiring chemical reactions proceed…"
"The ATP manufacturing enzyme
is closely analogous to
a water-wheel,
for
as the hydrogen ions are allowed to flow back through the enzyme,
just as
water flows over a water-wheel,
so
the ensuing chemical reactions 'lift up' the precursors of ATP into their high energy ATP state."
"The principle of such energy coupling
can be understood by the simple analogy of
the water flowing downhill over a water-wheel, and thus serving to turn the wheel and, for example, raise some weight from the ground using a pulley."
"These proteins are the molecular machines
which take the place of
the water-wheels and ropes and pulleys which can couple the falling of water down a mountainside to the lifting of some weight beside the stream"
An extended analogy between two systems

Whether this should be seen as one extended analogy, or more strictly as several, somewhat distinct but related, comparisons is moot, as becomes clear when trying to map out the different features. My best attempt involved some duplication and ambiguity. (Hint to all designers of teaching analogies – map them out as parallel concept maps to help you visualise and keep track of the points being made.)


An analogy (or set of analogies) between biological/biochemical and physical systems


Visualisation – mental simulation

Teaching analogies usually link to what is expected to be (for the members of the audience) a familiar situation, experience, or phenomenon. Readers will be familiar with an office block, or swimming in water.

However, it is also possible for the science communicator to set up an analogy based on a scenario which is unlikely to be familiar, but which can be readily imagined by the reader.

"To appreciate the power of random motion to bring about seemingly purposeful change, imagine a room full of blindfolded people all instructed to walk about at random 'bouncing' off the walls and one another. Imagine also that they have been told to stop moving only when they bump into a small picture hanging from a wall. Finally, suppose that all the pictures are hung in a second room, linked to the room full of people by a narrow open doorway…"

p.40

Few if any readers will have been familiar with this scenario, but the components – groups of people in rooms, blindfolding, adjoining rooms, pictures hung on walls – are all familiar and there is nothing inherently problematic about the scenario even it does not seem very likely. So, here the reader has to build up the analogy from a number of familiar but distinct images.

So, we might consider this a kind of 'gedankenexperiment' or thought experiment – the reader is prompted to consider what would happen if…(and then to transfer what would happen to the target system at the molecular scale). Perhaps some readers immediately 'see' (intuit) what happens in this situation, but otherwise they can 'run' a mental simulation to find out – a technique scientists themselves have used (if probably not regarding blindfolded people in picture galleries).

Analogies only reflect some aspects of the target being compared. The features that map unproblematically are known as the positive analogy, but there is usually a negative analogy as well: features that do not match, and so which would be misleading if carried across. Realistically, the negative analogy will usually have more content than the positive analogy, although much of the negative analogy will be so obviously irrelevant that it is unlikely to confuse anyone.

So, for example, in the analogy the blindfolded people will be wearing clothes, may exchange apologies (or curses) on bumping into each other, and will likely end up bruised – and human nature being what it is, some may cheat by sneaking a look past the edge of the blindfold – but no reader is likely to think these are features that transfer across to the target! Perhaps, however, a reader might wonder if the molecules, like the blindfolded people, are drawing on a source of energy to keep up the activity, and would tire eventually?

There are some other potentially more problematic aspects of the negative analogy. In the thought experiment, the people have been given instructions about what to do, and when to stop, and are acting deliberately. These features do not transfer across, but a reader might not realise this, and could therefore understand the analogy anthropomorphically. It is in situations like this where the teacher can seek feedback on how the analogy is being interpreted (that is, use informal formative assessment), but an author of a book loses control once the manuscript is completed.

Molecular mechanisms made familiar?

There is nothing unusual in Scott's use of metaphor, simile and analogy in seeking to help readers understand abstract scientific ideas. This is an approach common to a good deal of science communication, within and beyond formal teaching. Vital Principles offers many examples, but such devices are common in books seeking to explain science.

I did raise two questions about these techniques above. How do we know if these comparisons are effective in communicating the science? To find out, we would need to talk to readers and question them about their interpretations of the text.

In formal science teaching the focus of such research would likely be the extent to which the presentation supported a learner in acquiring a canonical understanding of the science.

However, as I suggested above, if such research concerned popular science books, we might ask whether the purpose of such books is to teach science or satisfy reader interest. Thus, above, I distinguished an objective and a subjective aspect. If a reader selected a book purely for interest, and is satisfied by what they have read – it made sense to them, and satisfied their curiosity – then does it matter if they may have not understood canonically?

When I read such texts, I wonder about both how a general readership responds to the comparisons offered by authors to make the unfamiliar familiar, and what sense the readers come away with of the science. I guess to some extent popular science authors at least get some level of feedback on the former question – if readers come back for their other titles, then they must be doing something right.

I thought Scott showed a good deal of ingenuity and craft in setting out an account of a challenging and complex area of science – but I would love to know how his different readers interpreted some of his comparisons.


Work cited:

Notes:

1 I have picked up a good many 'popular science books' over the years, but quite a few of them got put on the shelves till I had time to engage with them in any depth. Other things usually got in the way – lesson/lecture preparation being the most demanding imperative for soaking up time over my 'working' life. Retirement has finally allowed me to start going through the shelves…


2 In the English context, perhaps elsewhere, the textbook is now also often expected to not only cover the right content, but follow the examination board's line on the level of treatment, even to the degree of what is acceptable phrasing. Indeed, there are now textbooks associated with the different exam board syllabuses for the 'same' qualification (e.g., A level Chemistry). This seems very unhealthy, and come the revolution


3 The model I am referring to here is the mental model in the teacher's mind of the learner or reader – the background knowledge they have available, their existing level of understanding, the sophistication of their thinking, the range of everyday references they are familiar with which might be useful in making comparisons, their concentration span for dealing with new material or complex language …

If we think of teaching-learning as a system, many system failure (failures of students to understand teaching as intended) can be considered to be due to a mismatch – the teacher's mental model is inaccurate in ways that leads to non-optimal choices in presenting material (Taber, 2001 [Download article]).

This is the basis of the 'learning doctor' approach.

Read about Science learning doctors


4 This is the crux of the so called 'constructivist' perspective on teaching science – a perspective discussed in depth elsewhere on the site.

Read about constructivism


5 There was little in the book I really would have argued with. However, there were a few questionable statements:


"Yet this apparent miracle is completed thousands of times each day throughout the world [in humans], and similar miracles create all manner of simpler creatures, from elephants and birds and flies to bacteria and flowers and mighty oaks."

p.5

This statement seemed to reflect the long-lasting notion of nature as a 'great chain of being' with humans (in the middle of the chain, below a vast range of angelic forms, but) top of the natural world. Bacteria are simpler than humans, I would acknowledge; but I am less sure about flies; even less sure about birds; and question considering trees and other flowering plants, or elephants, as (biologically) simpler than us. This seems an anthropocentric (human-centred), rather than a scientific, take.


"…the periodic table… lists the 92 naturally occurring atoms (plus a few man-made ones) which are the basic raw materials of chemistry…"

p.19

There are clearly more than 92 naturally occurring atoms in the universe. I believe we think there are 90 naturally occurring elements. That is 90 "naturally occurring [kinds of, in the specific sense of proton number] atoms".


Similarly, "a 'compound' is any chemical [sic] composed of two or more atoms chemically bonded together" (pp.29-30) would imply that H2, C60, N2, O2, F2, P4, S8, Cl2, etc are all compounds (when these are elements, not compounds).


Another slightly questionable suggestion was that

"…electrons appear to surround the atomic nucleus, but in a way that allows them to dart to and fro in a seemingly chaotic manner within a particular region of space."

p.21

The notion of electrons darting back and forth does not really reflect the scientific model, but the orbital/quantum model of the atom is subtle and difficult to explain, and was not needed at the level of the description being presented.


A more obvious error was that

"…'heat' is just a measure of the kinetic energy with which particles of matter are moving…"

p.26

In physics, the temperature of a material is considered to reflect the average kinetic energy of the particles (e.g., molecules). But heat is a distinct concept from temperature. Heat is the energy transferred between samples of matter, due to a difference in temperature. So, when Scott writes

"We all know that heat energy moves inevitably from hot places to cold places, and that it will never spontaneously move in the opposite direction."

p.32

this could be seen as a tautology: like saying that imports always come into the county rather than leave – because of how imports are defined.

Although heat and temperature are related concepts, confusing or conflating them is a common alternative conception found among students. Confusing heat with temperature is like confusing a payment into your bank account with the account balance.

Moreover, Scott uses the wrong term when writes,

"[The molecules of?] Chemicals come into contact with one another because they are all constantly moving with the energy we call heat."

p.191

This internal energy that substances have due to the inherent motion of their particles is not heat – it is present even when there is a perfectly uniform temperature throughout a sample (and so no heating going on).


Scott tells readers that "Another name for … a voltage difference is a 'potential difference'…" (p.162) but the term voltage (not voltage difference) normally refers to a potential difference, p.d.. (So, the term voltage difference implies a difference between potential differences, not a difference in potential. If you had one battery with a p.d. across its terminals of 6.0V, and another with a p.d. across its terminals of 4.5V, you could say the 'voltage difference' between the batteries was 1.5V.)


A common alternative conception which Scott seems to share, or at least is happy to reinforce, is the 'fairy tale'* of how ionic bonding results from the transfer of an electron from a metal atom to a neutral non-metal atom,

"When sodium atoms react with chlorine atoms electrons are actually transferred from one atom to the other (see figure [which shows electron transfer from one atom to another]). One electron which is relatively loosely held by a sodium atom can move over to become attached to a chlorine atom."

p.30

This describes a chemically very unlikely scenario (neither sodium nor chlorine are found in the atomic state under normal conditions on earth), and if a sodium atom were to somehow collide with a chlorine atom, the process Scott describes would be thermodynamically non-viable – it requires too much energy to remove even the outermost 'relatively loosely held' electron from the neutral sodium atom. Perhaps this is why in the school laboratory NaCl tends to be prepared from solutions that already contain the sodium ions [NaOH(aq)] and the chloride ions [HCl(aq)].

* For example, read 'A tangible user interface for teaching fairy tales about chemical bonding'

It is hard to be too critical of Scott here, as this account is found in many chemistry text books (and I have even seen it expected in public examinations) although from a scientific point of view, it is a nonsense. That many learners come to think that ionic bonding is due to (or even, 'is') a process of electron transfer is surely a pedagogic learning impediment (Taber, 1994) – a false idea that is commonly taught in school chemistry.

Read more about common misconceptions of ionic bonding


6 As the author of a paper called ' Mediating mental models of metals: acknowledging the priority of the learner's prior learning', I must confess to being somewhat partial to some decent alliteration.


7 Many scientists will believe there is a purpose underpinning the evolution of life on earth, and will see creation as the unfolding of a supernatural plan. (Some others will vehemently reject this. Others still will be agnostic.) However, natural science is concerned with providing natural explanations of the world in terms of natural mechanisms. Even if a scientist thinks things are the way they are because that is God's will, that would be inadmissible as a scientific argument, as it does not explain how things came about through natural processes.

Read more about science and religion


8 Teaching, or for that matter writing a science book, is informed by the teacher's/author's mental model of how the reader/listener will make sense of the text (see above). How they actually make sense of the text depends on the interpretive resources they have available, and bring to mind, and it is common for learners/readers not to interpret texts in the way intended – often they either do not make sense of the information, or make a different sense to that intended. A teacher who is a 'learning doctor' can seek to diagnose and treat these 'teaching-learning system failures' when they inevitably occur, but teachers can avoid a good many potential problems by being as explicit as possible and not relying on learners to spontaneously make intended associations with prior learning or cultural referents.

Read about being a learning doctor

As suggested above, authors have an even more challenging task as their readerships may have a diverse range of prior knowledge and other available interpretive resources (e.g., a popular television programme or pop star in one country may be unknown to readers from another); and the author cannot check they have been understood as intended, in the way a teacher usually can.


Balding black holes – a shaggy dog story

Resurrecting an analogy from a dead metaphor?

Keith S. Taber

Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky…(Image by Garik Barseghyan from Pixabay)

I was intrigued by an analogy in a tweet

Like a shaggy dog in springtime, some black holes have to shed their "hair."

The link led me to an item at a webpage at 'Science News' entitled 'Black holes born with magnetic fields quickly shed them' written by Emily Conover. This, in turn, referred to an article in Physical Review Letters.

Now Physical Review Letters is a high status, peer-reviewed, journal.

(Read about peer review)

As part of the primary scientific literature, it publishes articles written by specialist scientists in a technical language intended to be understood by other specialists. Dense scientific terminology is not used to deliberately exclude general readers (as sometimes suggested), but is necessary for scientists to make a convincing case for new knowledge claims that seem persuasive to other specialists. This requires being precise, using unambiguous technical language."The thingamajig kind of, er, attaches to the erm, floppy bit, sort of" would not do the job.

(Read about research writing)

Science News however is news media – it publishes journalism (indeed, 'since 1921' the site reports – although that's the publication and not its website of course.) While science journalism is not essential to the internal processes of science (which rely on researchers engaging with each other's work though  scholarly critique and dialogue) it is very important for the public's engagement with science, and for the accountability of researchers to the wider community.

Science journalists have a job similar to science teachers – to communicate abstract ideas in a way that makes sense to their audience. So, they need to interpret research and explain it in ways that non-specialists can understand.

The news article told me

"Like a shaggy dog in springtime, some black holes have to shed…
Unlike dogs with their varied fur coats, isolated black holes are mostly identical. They are characterized by only their mass, spin and electric charge. According to a rule known as the no-hair theorem, any other distinguishing characteristics, or "hair," are quickly cast off. That includes magnetic fields."

Conover, 2013

Here there is clearly the use of an analogy – as a black hole is not the kind of thing that has actual hair. This would seem to be an example of a journalist creating an analogy (just as a science teacher would) to help 'make the unfamiliar familiar' to her readers:

just as

dogs with lots of hair need to shed some ready for the warmer weather (a reference to a familiar everyday situation)

so, too, do

black holes (no so familiar to most people) need to lose their hair

(Read about making the unfamiliar familiar)

But hair?

Surely a better analogy would be along the lines that just as dogs with lots of hair need to shed some ready for the warmer weather, so to do black holes need to lose their magnetic fields

An analogy is used to show a novel conceptual structure (here, relating to magnetic fields around black holes) maps onto a more familiar, or more readily appreciated, one (here, that a shaggy dog will shed some of its fur). A teaching analogy may not reflect a deep parallel between two systems, as its function may be just to introduce an abstract principle.

(Read about science analogies)

Why talk of black holes having 'hair'?

Conover did not invent the 'hair' reference for her ScienceNews piece – rather she built her analogy on  a term used by the scientists themselves. Indeed, the title of the cited research journal article was "Magnetic Hair and Reconnection in Black Hole Magnetospheres", and it was a study exploring the consequences of the "no-hair theorem" – as the authors explained in their abstract:

"The no-hair theorem of general relativity states that isolated black holes are characterized [completely described] by three parameters: mass, spin, and charge."

Bransgrove, Ripperda & Philippov, 2021

However, some black holes "are born with magnetic fields" or may "acquire magnetic flux later in life", in which case the fields will vary between black holes (giving an additional parameter for distinguishing them). The theory suggests that these black holes should somehow lose any such field: that is, "The fate of the magnetic flux (hair) on the event horizon should be in accordance with the no-hair theorem of general relativity" (Bransgrove, Ripperda & Philippov, 2021: 1). There would have to be a mechanism by which this occurs (as energy will be conserved, even when dealing with black holes).

So, the study was designed to explore whether such black holes would indeed lose their 'hair'.  Despite the use of this accessible comparison (magnetic flux as 'hair'), the text of the paper is pretty heavy going for someone not familiar with that area of science:

"stationary, asymptotically flat BH spacetimes…multipole component l of a magnetic field…self-regulated plasma…electron-positron discharges…nonzero stress-energy tensor…instability…plasmoids…reconnection layer…relativistic velocities…highly magnetized collisionless plasma…Lundquist number regime…Kerr-schild coordinates…dimensionless BH spin…ergosphere volume…spatial hypersurfaces…[…and so it continues]"

(Bransgrove, Ripperda & Philippov, 2021: 1).

"Come on Harry, you know full well that 'the characteristic minimum plasma density required to support the rotating magnetosphere is the Goldreich-Julian number density' [Bransgrove, Ripperda & Philippov, 2021: 2], so hand me that hyperspanner."
Image from Star Trek: Voyager (Paramount Pictures)

Spoiler alert

I do not think I will spoil anything by revealing that Bransgrove and colleague conclude from their work that "the no-hair theorem holds": that there is a 'balding process' – the magnetic field decays ("all components of the stress-energy tensor decay exponentially in time"). If any one reading this is wondering how they did this work, given that  most laboratory stores do not keep black holes in stock to issue to researchers on request, it is worth noting the study was based on a computer simulation.

That may seem to be rather underwhelming as the researchers are just reporting what happens in a computer model, but a lot of cutting-edge science is done that way. Moreover, their simulations produced predictions of how the collapsing magnetic fields of real black holes might actually be detected in terms of the kinds of radiation that should be produced.

As the news item explained matters:

Magnetic reconnection in balding black holes could spew X-rays that astronomers could detect. So scientists may one day glimpse a black hole losing its hair.

Conover, 2013

So, we have hairy black holes that go through a balding process when they lose their hair – which can be tested in principle because they will be spewing radiation.

Balding is to hair, as…

Here we have an example of an analogy for a scientific concept. Analogies compare one phenomenon or concept to another which is considered to have some structural similarity (as in the figure above). When used in teaching and science communication such analogies offer one way to make the unfamiliar familiar, by showing how the unfamiliar system maps in some sense onto a more familiar one.

hair = magnetic field

balding = shedding the magnetic field

Black holes are expected to be, or at least to become, 'hairless' – so without having magnetic fields detectable from outside the event horizon (the 'surface' connecting points beyond which everything, even light, is unable to 'escape' the gravitational field and leave the black hole). If black holes are formed with, or acquire, such magnetic fields, then there is expected to be a 'balding' process. This study explored how this might work in certain types of (simulated) black holes – as magnetic field lines (that initially cross the event horizon) break apart and reconnect. (Note that in this description the magnetic field lines – imaginary lines invented by Michael Faraday as a mental tool to think about and visualise magnetic fields – are treated as though they are real objects!)

Some such comparisons are deliberately intended to help scientists explain their ideas to the public – but scientists also use such tactics to communicate to each other (sometimes in frivolous or humorous ways) and in these cases such expressions may do useful work as short-hand expressions.

So, in this context hair denotes anything that can be detected and measured from outside a black hole apart form its mass, spin, and charge (see, it is much easier to say 'hair')- such as magnetic flux density if there is a magnetic field emerging from the black hole.

A dead metaphor?

In the research paper, Bransgrove, Ripperda and Philippov do not use the 'hair' comparison as an analogy to explain ideas about black holes. Rather they take the already well-established no-hair theorem as given background to their study ("The original no-hair conjecture states that…"), and simply explain their work in relation to it  ("The fate of the magnetic flux (hair) on the event horizon should be in accordance with the no-hair theorem of general relativity.")

Whereas an analogy uses an explicit comparison (this is like that because…), a comparison that is not explained is best seen as a metaphor. A metaphor has 'hidden meaning'. Unlike in an analogy, the meaning is only implied.

  • "The no-hair theorem of general relativity states that isolated black holes are characterized by three parameters: mass, spin, and charge";
  • "The original no-hair conjecture states that all stationary, asymptotically flat BH [black hole] spacetimes should be completely described by the mass, angular momentum, and electric charge"

(Read adbout science metaphors)

Bransgrove and colleagues do not need to explain why they use the term 'hair' in their research report as in their community it has become an accepted expression where researchers already know what it is intended to mean. We might consider it a dead metaphor, an expression which was originally used to imply meaning through some kind of comparison, but which through habitual use has taken on literal meaning.

Science has lots of these dead metaphors – terms like electrical charge and electron spin have with repeated use over time earned their meanings without now needing recourse to their origins as metaphors. This can cause confusion as, for example, a learner may  develop alternative conceptions about electron spin if they do not appreciate its origin as a metaphor, and assumes an electron spins in the same sense as as spinning top or the earth in space. Then there is an associative learning impediment as the learner assumes an electron is spinning on its axis because of the learner's (perfectly reasonable) associations for the word 'spin'.

The journalist or 'science writer' (such as Emily Conover), however, is writing for a non-specialist readership, so does need to explain the 'hair' reference.  So, I would characterise the same use of the terms hair/no-hair and balding as comprising a science analogy in the news item, but a dead metaphor in the context of the research paper. The meaning of language, after all, is in the mind of the reader.

Work cited:

Excavating a cognitive dinosaur

Keith S. Taber

Filling-in; and digging-out a teaching analogy

Is the work of cognition like the work of a palaeontologist? (Image by Brenda Geisse from Pixabay)

I like the reflexive nature of this account – of someone reconstructing an analogy

about how cognition reconstructs coherent wholes from partial, fragmented data

from a partial, fragmented memory representation.

I was reading something about memory function that piqued my interest in an analogy:

"Neisser, using an analogy initially developed by Hebb (1949) to characterize [sic] perception, likened the rememberer to a paleontologist who attempts to reconstruct a dinosaur from fragmentary remains: 'out of a few stored bone chips, we remember a dinosaur'…"

Schacter, 1995, p.10

I was interested enough to look up the original use of this analogy (as I report below).

This links to three things that have separately interested me:

  • the nature of memory
  • the constructivist account of learning and cognition
  • using analogies in teaching and comunicating science

The nature of our memories

I have long been interested in what memory is and how it works – and its role in academic learning (Taber,  2003). In part this perhaps derives from the limits of my own memory – I have been reasonably successful academically, but have never felt I had a good memory (and I seem to get more 'absent minded' all the time). This interest grew as it became clearer to me that our memory experiences seem to be quite different – my late wife Philippa would automatically and effortlessly remember things  in a way that that seemed to me to be a kind of superpower. (She was once genuinely surprised that I could not picture what a family member had been wearing on arriving at a family event years before, whereas I thought I was doing pretty well to even remember I had been there.) Now that neurodiversity is widely recognised, it seems less surprising that we do not all experience memory in the same way.

A lot of people, however, understand memory in terms of a kind of folk-model (that is, a popular everyday account which does not match current scientific understanding) – along the lines that we put information into a memory store, where – unless it gets lost and we forget – we can later access it and so remember what it was that we committed to memory. Despite the ubiquity of that notion, research suggests that is not really how memory functions. We might say that this is a common alternative conception of how memory works.

(Read about 'Memory')

The constructive nature of memory

Schacter was referring back to a tradition that began a century ago when Bartlett carried out a series of studies on memory. Bartlett (1932/1995) would, for example, expose people to a story that was unfamiliar to his study participants, and then later ask them to retell as much of the story as they could remember. As might be expected, some people remembered more details than others.

What perhaps was less predictable at the time was the extent to which people included in their retelling details that had not been part of the original story at all. These people were not deliberately embellishing or knowingly guessing, but reporting, as best they could, what their memory suggested had been part of the original story.

People who habitually exhibit this 'confabulation' to an pathological degree (perhaps remembering totally fantastic things that clearly could not be true) are recognised as having some kind of problem, but it transpires this is just an extreme of something that is normal behavior. Remembering is not the 'pulling something out of storage' that we may experience it as – as actually what we remember is more like a best guess based on insufficient data (but a guess made preconsciously, so it appears in our conscious minds as definitive) than a pristine copy of an original experience. Memory is often more a matter of constructing an account from the materials at hand than simply reading it out from something stored.

Thus the analogy. Here is some wider context for the quote presented above:

"The publication of Neisser's (1967) important monograph on cognitive psychology rekindled interest in Bartlett's ideas about schemas and reconstructive memory. According to Neisser, remembering the past is not a simple matter of reawakening a dormant engram or memory trace; past events are constructed by using preexisting knowledge and [schemata] to piece together whatever fragmentary remains of the initial episode are available in memory. Neisser, using an analogy initially developed by Hebb (1949) to characterize [sic] perception, likened the rememberer to a paleontologist who attempts to reconstruct a dinosaur from fragmentary remains: 'out of a few stored bone chips, we remember a dinosaur' (1967, p.285). In this view, all memories are constructions because they include general knowledge that was not part of a specific event, but is necessary to reconstruct it. The fundamentally constructive nature of memory in turn makes it susceptible to various kinds of distortions and inaccuracies. Not surprisingly, Neisser embraced Bartlett's observations and ideas about the nature of memory."

Schacter, 1995, p.10

These ideas will not seem strange to those who have studied science education, a field which has been strongly influenced by a 'constructivist' perspective on learning. Drawing on learning science research, the constructivist perspective focuses on how each learner has to build up their own knowledge incrementally: it is not possible for a teacher to take some complex technical knowledge and simply transfer it (or copy it) to a learner's mind wholesale.

(Read more about constructivism in education)

Excavating the analogy: what did Hebb actually say?

Hebb is remembered for his work on understanding the brain in terms of neural structures – neurons connected into assemblies through synapses.  His book 'The Organization of Behavior' has been described as "one of the most influential books in Psychology and Neuroscience" (Brown, 2020: 1).

Tachistoscope Source: Science Museum Group (This image is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 Licence)

The analogy referred to by Schacter was used by Hebb in describing perception. He discussed studies using a tachistoscope, an instrument for displaying images for very brief periods. This could be used to show an image to a person with an exposure insufficient for them to take in all the details,

"…the pattern is perceived, first, as a familiar one, and then with something missing or something added. The something, also, is familiar; so the total perception is a mélange of the habitual.

The subject's reports [make it] clear that the subject is not only responding to the diagram as a whole; he perceives its parts as separate entities, even though presentation is so brief. Errors are prominent, and such as to show that all the subject really perceives–and then only with rough accuracy–is the slope of a few lines and their direction and distance from one another"

Hebb, 1949: pp.46-47

That is, the cognitive system uses the 'clues' available from the incomplete visual data to build  (in effect) a hypothesis of what was seen, based on correspondences between the data actually available and familiar images that match that limited data. What the person becomes consciously aware of 'seeing' is not actually a direct report from the visual field of the presented image, but a constructed image that is a kind of conjecture of what might have been seen – 'filling-in' missing data with what seems most likely based on past visual experiences.

Cognitive scientist Annette Karmiloff-Smith developed the concept of 'representational redescription' as a way of describing how initially tacit knowledge could eventually become explicit. She suggested that "intra-domain and inter-domain representational relations are the hallmark of a flexible and creative cognitive system" (Karmiloff-Smith,1996: 192). The gist was that the brain is able to re-represent its own internal representations in new forms with different affordances.

An loose analogy might be someone who takes a screenshot when displaying an image from the JPEG photo collection folder on the computer, opens the screenshot as a pdf file, and then adds some textual annotations before exporting the file to a new pdf. The representation of the original image is unchanged in the system, but a new representation has been made of it in a different form, which has then been modified and 'stored' (represented) in a different folder.

Hebb was describing how a representation of visual data at one level in the cognitive system has been represented elsewhere in the system (representational redescription?) at a level where it can be mentipulated by 'filling-in'.

Hebb then goes on to use the analogy:

"A drawing or a report of what is seen tachistoscopically is not unlike a paleontologist's reconstruction of early man from a tooth and a rib. There is a clear effect of earlier experience, filling in gaps in the actual perception, so that the end result is either something familiar or a combination of familiar things–a reconstruction on the basis of experience."

Hebb, 1949: p.47

Teaching analogies

Hebb was writing a book that can be considered as a textbook, so this can be seen as a teaching analogy, although such analogies are also used in communicating science in other contexts.

(Read about Science analogies)

Teaching is about making the unfamiliar familiar, and one way we do that is by saying that 'this unfamiliar thing you need to learn about is a bit like this other thing that you already know about'. Of course, when teaching in this way we need to say in what way there is an analogy, and it may also be important to say in what ways the two things are not alike if we do not want people to map across irrelevant elements (i.e., to develop 'associative' learning impediments).

(Read about Making the unfamiliar familiar)

Hebb is saying that visual perception is often not simply the detection of a coherent and integral image, but is rather a construction produced by building upon the available data to construct a coherent and integral image. In extremis, a good deal may be made of very little scraps of input – akin to a scientist reconstructing a model of a full humanoid body based on a couple of bits of bone or tooth.

Hebb's analogy

There are examples where palaeontologists or anthropologists have indeed suggested such complete forms based on a few fossil fragments as data. This is only possible because of their past experiences of meeting many complete forms, and the parts of which they are made. (And of course, sometimes other scientists completely disagree about their reconstructions!)

An exscientific analogy?

Often in teaching science we use teaching analogies that compare an unfamiliar scientific concept to some familiar everyday phenomenon – perhaps a reaction profile is a bit like a roller-coaster track. Perhaps we could call these adscientific analogies as the meaning is transferred to the scientific concept from the everyday.

Sometimes, however, familiar scientific phenomena or ideas are used as the source – as here. Perhaps these could be called exscientific analogies as the meaning is taken from the science concept and applied elsewhere.

Developing the palaeontology analogy

So, Hebb had originally used the palaeontology analogy in the context of discussing perception. When I looked into how Neisser had used the comparison in his "important monograph on cognitive psychology" I found he had developed the analogy, returning to it at several points in his book.

Do we analyse what we attend to?

Neisser's first reference was also in relation to perception, rather than memory. Neisser argued that before we can attend to part of a scene there must already have been the operation of "preattentive mechanisms, which form segregated objects"  from which we can select what to attend to. These processes might be referred to as analyses:

"…the detailed properties and features that we ordinarily see in an attended figure…arise…only because part of the input was selected for attention and certain operations then performed on it. Neither the object of analysis nor the nature of the analysis is inevitable, and both may vary in different observers and at different times."

Neisser, 1967, p.94

But Neisser was not sure this really was 'analysis', which he understood as drawing on another (what I labelled above) exscientific analogy:

"The very word 'analysis' may not be apt. It suggests an analogy with chemistry: a chemist 'analyses' unknown substances to find out what they 'really' are."

Neisser, 1967, p.94

Rather than refer to analysis, we could draw on  Hebb's palaeontological analogy:

"More appropriate…is Hebb's (1949, p.47) comparison of the perceiver with a paleontologist, who carefully extracts a few fragments of what might be bones from a mass of irrelevant rubble and 'reconstructs' the dinosaur that will eventually stand in the Museum of Natural History. In this sense it is important to think of focal attention as a constructive, synthetic activity rather than as purely analytic. One does not simply examine the input and make a decision; one builds an appropriate visual object."

Neisser, 1967, p.94

[If it helps to have some examples to reflect upon this account of perception, you may find it useful to look at some images that may require careful interpretation.]

Neisser draws upon the analogy repeatedly in developing his account of perception:

"Such emotion-flooded experiences [as 'physiognomic' perception: 'Everyone has perceived such traits as suppressed anger in a face, gaiety in a movement, or peaceful harmony in a picture'] can be thought of as the result of particular kinds of construction. The same fragments of bone that lead one paleontologist to make an accurate model of an unspectacular creature might lead another, perhaps more anxious or more dramatic, to 'reconstruct' a nightmarish monster." (pp.96-97)

"To 'direct attention' to a figure is to attempt a more extensive synthesis of it. Of course, synthesis presupposes some prior analysis, as the paleontologist must have some fragments of bone before he can build his dinosaur…" (p.103)

"Recognition, whether of spelling patterns or words as wholes, must be mediated by relevant features, as meaningless in themselves as the bone chips of the paleontologist." (p.114)

"The process of figural synthesis does not depend only on the features extracted from the input, just as the dinosaur constructed by a paleontologist is not based only on the bone chips he has found. Equally important is the kind of perceptual object the perceiver is prepared to construct. The importance of set and context on the perception of words has been demonstrated in a great many experiments." (pp.115-116)

Neisser, 1967

And as with perception, so memory…

When Neisser discusses memory he uses a kind of double analogy – suggesting that memory is a bit like perception, which (as already established) is a bit like the work of the palaeontologist:

"Perception is constructive, but the input information often plays the largest single role in determining the constructive process. A very similar role, it seems to me, is played by the aggregate of information stored in long-term memory.

This is not to say that the stimuli themselves are copied and stored; far from it. The analogy being offered asserts only that the role which stored information plays in recall is like the role which stimulus information plays in perception….The model of the paleontologist, which was applied to perception and focal attention in Chapter 4, applies also to memory: out of a few stored bone chips, we remember a dinosaur….one does not recall objects or responses simply because traces of them exist in the mind, but after an elaborate process of reconstruction, (which usually makes use of relevant stored information).

What is the information – the bone chips – on which reconstruction is based? The only plausible possibility is that it consists of traces of prior processes of construction. There are no stored copies of finished mental events, like images or sentences, but only traces of earlier constructive activity."

Neisser, 1967, p.285
Fleshing-out the metaphor

Neisser then pushes the analogy one step further, by pointing out that the 'fleshed-out' model of a dinosaur in the museum may be constructed in part based on the fossil fragments of bones, but those fragments themselves do not form part of the construction (the model). The bones are used as referents in building the skeletal framework (literally, the skeleton) around which the model will be built, but the model is made from other materials (wood, steel, fibreglass, whatever) and the fossil fragments themselves will be displayed separately or perhaps filed away in a drawer in the museum archives. (As in the representational redescription model – the original representation is redescribed at another level of the system.)

"The present proposal is, therefore, that we store traces of earlier cognitive acts, not of the products of those acts. The traces are not simply 'revised' or 'reactivated' in recall; instead, the stored fragments are used as information to support a new construction. It is as if the bone fragments used by the paleontologist did not appear in the model he builds at all – as indeed they need not, if it to represent a fully fleshed-out skin-covered dinosaur. The bones can be thought of, somewhat loosely, as remnants of the structure which created and supported the original dinosaur, and thus as sources of information about how to reconstruct it."

Neisser, 1967, pp.285-286

Neisser's development of Hebb's analogy

The head palaeontologist?

A final reference to the analogy is used when Neisser addresses the question of the cognitive executive: the notion that somewhere in the cognitive system there is something akin to an overseer who direct operations:

"Who does the turning, the trying, and the erring" Is there a little man in the head, a homonculus, who acts the part of the paleontologist vis-à-vis the dinosaur? p.293

Neisser, 1967, p.293

The homonculus can be pictured as a small person sitting in the brain's control room, for example, viewing the images being projected from the visual input.

It is usually considered this is a flawed model (potentially lading to an infinite regress), a failure to take a systemic view of the cognitive system. It is the system which functions and leads to our conscious experience of perceiving, attending, making decisions, planning, remembering, and so forth. Whilst there are specialist components (modules) including for the coordination of the system, there is not a discrete controller overlaying the system as a whole who is doing the seeing, hearing, thinking, etcetera based on outputs from processing by the system.

Here the homonculus would like an authority that the palaeontologist turned to in order to decide how to build her model: raising the question of how does that expert know, and who would they, in turn, ask?

Why change Hebb's orignal analogy?

Altohugh Neisser refers to the analogy as being that used by Hebb, he modifies it. A tooth and rib become fragments of bone, and the early man becomes a dinosaur. Whether the shift from the reconstruction of an early hominid to the reconstruction of a terrible lizard was a deliberate one (for greater effect? because Neisser thought it would be more familiar to his readers?) or not I do not know. The phrasing suggests that Neisser thought he was applying Hebb's original comparison – so I suspect this is how he recalled the analogy.

Perhaps Neisser had regularly used the analogy in his teaching, in which case it may have become so familiar to him that he did not feel the need to check the original version. That is, perhaps he was correctly remembering how he had previously misremembered the original analogy. That is not fanciful, as memory researchers suggest this is something that is very common. Each time we access a memory the wider representational context becomes modified by engagement with it.

That is, if what is represented (in 'long-term memory'*) is indeed "traces of prior processes of construction…traces of earlier constructive activity" then each time a 'memory' is experienced, by being constructed based on what is represented ('in memory'*), new traces of that process of constructing the memory are left in the system.

It is possible over the years to be very convinced about the accuracy of a distorted memory that has been regularly reinforced. (The extent to which this may in part be the origin of many wars, feuds, and divorces might be a useful focus for research?)

So perhaps Neisser had represented in his long-term memory the analogy of a palaeontologist with a few fossil fragments, and when he sought to access the analogy, perhaps in a classroom presentation, the other elements were filled-in: the 'tooth and rib' became 'a few fragments of what might be bones' and the 'early man' become 'a dinosaur' – details that made sense of the analogy in terms familiar to Neisser.

The account of cognition that Hebb, Neisser and Schater were presenting would suggest that if this had been the case then for Neisser there would be no apparent distinction between the parts of Hebb's analogy that Neisser was remembering accurately, and the parts his preconscious mind had filled-in to construct a coherent analogy. I like the reflexive nature of this account – of someone reconstructing an analogy about how cognition reconstructs coherent wholes from partial, fragmented data – from a partial, fragmented memory representation.

 Sources cited:
  • Bartlett, F. C. (1932/1995). Remembering: A study in experimental and social psychology Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
  • Brown, R. E. (2020). Donald O. Hebb and the Organization of Behavior: 17 years in the writing. Molecular Brain, 13(1), 55. doi:10.1186/s13041-020-00567-8
  • Hebb, D. O. (1949). The Organisation of Behaviour. A neuropsychological theory. New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
  • Karmiloff-Smith, A. (1996). Beyond Modularity: A developmental perspective on cognitive science. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press.
  • Neisser, U. (1967). Cognitive Psychology. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts.
  • Schacter, D. L. (1995). Memory distortion: history and current status. In D. L. Schacter (Ed.), Memory Distortion. How minds, brains, and societies reconstruct the past (pp. 1-43). Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.
  • Taber, K. S. (2003) Lost without trace or not brought to mind? – a case study of remembering and forgetting of college science, Chemistry Education: Research and Practice, 4 (3), pp.249-277. [Free access]

* terms like 'in memory' and 'in long-term memory' may bring to mind the folk-notion of memory as somewhere in the brain where things are stored away, whereas it is probably better to think of the brain as a somewhat plastic processing system which is constantly being modified by its own functioning. The memory we experience is simply the outcome of active processing** in part of the system that has previously been modified by earlier mental activity (** active processing which is in turn itself further modifying the system).

Temperature is measuring the heat of something …

Keith S. Taber

Image by Peter Janssen from Pixabay 

Bill was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Bill, then in Y7, was telling me about work he had done in his science class on the states of matter, and what happened to the particles that made up objects during a change of state. He suggested that "when a solid goes to a liquid, the heat gives the particles energy to spread about, and then when its a liquid, it's got even more energy to spread out into a gas". Later in the interview I followed up to find out what Bill understood by heat:

Now you mentioned earlier, something about heat. When you were talking about the experiment you did.

Yeah.

Yeah. So tell me about the heat again, what's, how does the heat get involved in this solids, liquids and gases?

When I heat, when heat comes to a solid, it will have, erm, a point where it will go down to a liquid,

Okay,

A melting points of the, the object.

Do you know what heat is? If you had a younger brother or sister, and they said to you, 'you are good at science, what's heat?'

I'm not sure how I can explain it, 'cause it's, it can be measured at different temperature, it can be measured at temperature, erm, by degrees Celsius, degrees Fahrenheit, and – I'm not really sure how I could explain what it is, but, I know it can be measured and changed.

So is it the same thing as temperature, do you think, or is it something different?

Erm, I think temperature is measuring the heat of something.

So they're related, they're to do with each other?

Yeah.

But they are not exactly the same?

No.

Bill appreciated that heat and temperature were not the same, but was not entirely clear on the relationship. Distinguishing between heat and temperature is a recognised challenge in teaching and learning physics.

We commonly introduce temperature as a measure of how hot or cold something is – which relates to phenomena that all students have experienced (even if our actual perception of temperature is pretty crude). Heating is a process, and heat is sometimes considered to be energy being transferred due to a difference of temperature (although energy is a very abstract notion and there is much discussion in science teaching circles about the best language to be used in teaching about energy).

Put simply, it is reasonable to suggest a very hot object would have a high temperature, but not that it contained a lot of heat. So, it is strictly wrong to say that "temperature is measuring the heat of something" (and it would be more correct, if not very technical, to say instead "temperature is measuring the hotness of something – how hot something is"). Perhaps the idea Bill wanted to express was more about the heat that one can feel radiating form a hot object (but likely that is an interpretation suggested by the canonical science use of 'heat'?)

This is one of those situations where a student has an intuition or idea which is basically along the right lines, in the sense of knowing there is an association or link, but strictly not quite right – so, an alternative conception. In a teaching situation it might be useful to know if a student actually has a firm conception that temperature measures the amount of heat, or (as seems to be the case with Bill) this is more a matter of using everyday language – which tends to be less precise and rigid than technical language – to express a vague sense. If a student has a firm notion that hot objects contain heat, and this is not identified and responded to, then this could act as a grounded learning impediment as it will likely distort how teaching is understood.

The teacher is charged with shifting learners away from their current ways of thinking and talking, towards using the abstractions and technical language of the subject, such as the canonical relationship between heat and temperature – and this often means beginning by engaging with the learners' ideas and language. Arguably the use of the term 'heat capacity' (and 'specific heat capacity') which might suggest something about the amount of heat something can hold, is unhelpful here.

.

Sandstone looks like it is made out of sand

Keith S. Taber

Image by Norman Bosworth from Pixabay 

Sandstone looks like it's made out of a load of sand stuck together

Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Sophia (when a Y8 pupil) had been learning in class about different kinds of rocks, including

  • rocks that erupt from volcanoes,
  • rocks that are formed underground, and
  • rocks that 'come from mountains' that 'get worn away':

When rocks … come from mountains, they like get worn away.

Mm, so what happens when you wear away the rock then?

 Does it go like into a river, like a spring, and then gets carried – down, and gets smaller….when it gets tiny, tiny would it turns into sand?

And then what happens to the sand, it just stays as sand does it?

Prob¬ [Probably]… Yeah. …

Have you heard of a kind of rock called sandstone?

Yeah.

Any idea, what sandstone is?

It's sand like, on the rock, it just looks like it's made out of a load of sand stuck together.

Despite having been taught about the three categories of rock formed in different ways, Sophia had apparently only remembered the erosion stage in formation of the sedimentary rocks.

Erosion leads to rocks being broken down into sand. And sandstone 'looked like' it was made of a lot of 'sand stuck together', but for Sophia this seemed to be little more than a coincidence. She did not make the expected connection.

This seems to be an example of a fragmentation learning impediment, where the learner does not perceive the relevance of prior learning, and so does not use it to interpret teaching in the way intended by the teacher. So, here there was a lack of conceptual integration with material that was meant to be related being learnt as discrete facts.

The cell nucleus is probably bigger than an atomic nucleus

A cell is about ten times larger than an atom

Keith S. Taber

Dividing cell image by  ar130405 from Pixabay

Bert was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Bert was interviewed in Y10 and asked about the topics he had been studying, which included circulation in biology, static electricity in physics, and oxidation in chemistry.

He talked about protons, electrons and atoms in both chemistry and physics, and was asked if this could also link with biology. Bert suggested that the nucleus comes up in chemistry (in the context of atomic structure) and physics (in the context of static electricity), and in biology in the context of cells (see 'The nucleus is the brain of the cell'). From the perspective of the science teacher, there is little basis for confusing the nucleus of an atom with that of a cell: obviously a cell is a complex entity with many components, each of which has itself a complex supra-molecular structure – so clearly the atomic nucleus is on a scale many orders of magnitude smaller than a cell nucleus.

However, the expert perspective is based on relating a lot of knowledge that the novice may not yet have, or at least, may not yet be coordinating. In Bert's case, he was only just starting to coordinate these ideas, as became clear when Bert was asked about the relative sizes of atomic and cell nuclei:

Which do you think is bigger, an atom or a cell, or are they both about the same size?

I'd say a cell.

A correct, but hardly confident and definitive, response. I followed up:

Which do you think is bigger, an atom or a cell, or are they both about the same size?

I'd say a cell.

So which do you think is bigger, the nucleus of a cell or the nucleus of an atom, or do you think they're both about the same size?

I think they're both about, well I should, oh. (Laughs) I'd say the one in the cell is probably bigger.

Why do you think that?

Well it's a cell, I'd have thought it was bigger than the atom. And you know, if the nucleus is kind of the main part of it, then it would probably be about, it would be the • same sort of – If the atom was brought to the size of the cell then the nucleus would be the same size I would have thought. So if the atom is smaller then the nucleus is a lot smaller.

I see, so you are sort of like scaling it, accordingly?

Yeah.

I see. So any idea roughly, just very roughly, how much bigger a cell is than an atom?

Erm oh, it's, they're both really microscopic so, I couldn't really say how much bigger they are than each other.

So it seems that Bert would "have thought [the cell] was bigger than the atom", but he did not seem entirely certain of this, whereas from the scientific perspective the difference in scale is considered vast and highly significant. Although cells are generally microscopic entries, they are more like familiar macroscopic objects that we can handle in everyday life than quanticles such as atoms which do not behave like familiar objects. (So, there is sense in which it is meaningless to talk about the size of atoms as they have no edges or surfaces but rather fade away to infinity.)

Erm oh, it's, they're both really microscopic so, I couldn't really say how much bigger they are than each other.

Mm. No, okay. So if I said a cell was ten times bigger than an atom, a hundred times bigger than an atom, a thousand times bigger than an atom?

I wouldn't say that, I'd say, I'd probably go with the first one you said, ten times bigger.

So roughly ten times bigger than an atom. So a nucleus of a cell you'd expect to be roughly ten times bigger than the nucleus of an atom?

Yeah.

But you're not really sure?

Well no, there are a lot more parts in a cell than there is in an atom. So I'd say the nucleus is… if they're both brought to the same size again, I'd say the nucleus of the atom would be bigger than the cell. But I could be totally wrong.

Oh I see, so you've got two arguments there. That because they, because they both have a nucleus in the middle, that in terms of scale, if the cell is quite a bit bigger than the atom, you'd expect the nucleus of the cell would be quite a bit bigger than the atom. But an atom is quite a simple structure, whereas a cell has a lot more things in it, it's a lot more complex.

Yeah.

So maybe there's not so much room for the nucleus of the cell as there is for an atom because you've got to fit so much more in.

Yeah.

Is that what you're thinking?

Yeah.

Bert's thinking here is quite reasonable, within the limits of his knowledge. He suggests that a cell nucleus will be larger than an atomic nucleus, because a cell is larger than an atom. However, he only think the cell nucleus will be about ten times the size of the atomic nucleus as he suspects the cell is only about ten times the size of an atom – after all they are both "really microscopic".

However, he also points out that a cell seems to have a more a lot more components to be fitted in, which would suggest that perhaps there is less space to fit the nucleus, so perhaps it would not be as much as ten times bigger than the atomic nucleus.

So Bert is able to consider a situation where there may be several factors at work (the size of the cell versus the size of the atom; the multitude of cellular components versus the sparsity of atoms) and appreciate how they would operate in an opposite sense within his argument so one could compensate for the other. (This type of thinking is needed a lot in studying science. One example is comparisons of ionisation enthalpies between different atoms and ions. I also recall physics objective examination questions that asked students to compare, say, the conductance of two wires with different resistivity, length and area.)

It is not reasonable to expect Bert to know just how much larger a typical cell nucleus is to an atomic nucleus, however, it is likely the science teacher would expect Bert to be aware that the nucleus is one small part of the atom, which is a constituent of the molecules and ions that are the chemical basis for the organelles such as nuclei found in cells. Bert had told me "there are lots of atoms in you", but he did not seem to have understood the role those atoms played in the structure of all tissues. This would seem to be an example of a fragmentation learning impediment, where a learner has not made the connections between topics and ideas that a science teacher would have intended and expected.

The nucleus is the brain of the cell

Keith S. Taber

Brain Image by b0red from Pixabay; cell image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

…but is it the same as an atomic nucleus?

Bert was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. Bert was interviewed in Y10 and asked about the topics he had been studying, which included circulation in biology, static electricity in physics, and oxidation in chemistry. He had talked about protons, electrons and atoms in both chemistry (studying atomic structure) and physics (studying static electricity), and was asked if this could also link with biology:

Do you think there are any links with Biology?

Yeah, well there are lots of atoms in you. And we did about the nucleus which we've been doing about in Biology. I'm not sure if there's a link between it, but.

Ah, that's interesting, so

'cause we did about plant and animal cells in Biology, so it's got a nucleus….as I was saying about the blood cells and things. We were doing about the animal and plant cells and, you know, we were seeing what's the same between them and what's different.

So a connection between physics and chemistry on one hand, and biology on the other, was that cells also had a nucleus. This is a term used across these three sciences, but of course the concepts of atomic and cellular nuclei are quite distinct. Was that clear to Bert? What did he understand about cellular nuclei?

So what's the nucleus then?

It's kind of like erm, the brain of the cell kind of. It's, it's what gets the cell to do everything, it's like, the core of the cell.

This response is interesting because, at one level, it suggests that Bert did not have a detailed and well-focussed 'off pat' answer. However, that may not be such a bad thing – definitions that are learnt 'off by heart' may only represent rote learning and may not be well understood. Indeed, it has been argued (in the work of Thomas Kuhn, for example) that in learning science a technical definition is often only really useful once the concept has been acquired: that is once the meaning of the word being defined has, to some degree, already been grasped.

At another level, Bert's answer could be seen as quite sophisticated. What could be taken as an ambiguous response, a difficulty in finding the words to represent his thinking, could also be seen as multifaceted:

  • essential: the nucleus is the brain of the cell
  • functional: the nucleus controls the cell (it's what gets the cell to do everything)
  • structural: the nucleus is the core of the cell

That is, Bert's response could be read, not as a series of alternative suggestions and self-corrections, but rather as a set of complementary images or 'faces' of a complex idea. That would fit with a notion of concepts as being nodes in conceptual networks where the meaning of a particular concept depends upon the way it is associated with others.

(Read about 'Concepts')

The suggestion that the brain reference is intended to be about the essential nature of the nucleus is of course a reading of the text that must be seen as a speculative interpretation. (It probably does not even make sense to ask if Bert intended it this way, as in conversation much of our dialogue does not await deliberation, but is spontaneous, relying largely on implicit cognition.) But, as a teacher, I can see this as a kind of pedagogic device along the lines: 'you ask we what the nucleus is, let me compare it with something you will be familiar with, in essence it is like the brain of the cell'.

This is clearly meant metaphorically ("kind of like erm, the brain of the cell kind of"): that is, it is assumed that the person hearing the metaphor can make the expected sense of the comparison. Metaphors have an essential (sic) role in teaching and in communication more generally, though like other such 'figures' of speech (simile, analogy, anthropomorphism, animism), may become habitually used in place of the deeper meaning they are meant to introduce (Taber & watts, 1996).

(Read about 'metaphor in science')

It's kind of like erm, the brain of the cell kind of. It's, it's what gets the cell to do everything, it's like, the core of the cell.

Okay. And why is there a connection with Chemistry or the Physics then?

Because erm, we were doing, we were doing in Chemistry about the nucleus has the – neutrons and the protons in the nucleus, then around it is a field of electrons.

…So why is that a connection then? Why is that a connection between the Biology and the Chemistry and the Physics?

Well it's just the nucleus comes under both of them.

Comes under both of them. So is it the same thing?

I wouldn't have thought so, but because when I think of electrons and neutrons I think of electricity, which I don't really think of in our, in our bodies but it could be perhaps. We haven't been told about that.

So there is ambiguity in Bert's report: the nucleus comes up in chemistry and physics in the context of atoms, and in biology in the context of cells. Although the term is the same, so there is at least that connection, Bert "wouldn't have thought" it was the same thing in these different contexts (after all, he would not expect there to be electricity in our bodies!) …but, then again, "it could be perhaps", as they had not been told otherwise. (A possible subtext here being: surely the teacher(s) would have pointed out this was something different if they were going to use the same word for two different things in science lessons?)

The use of the same word label, nucleus, for the rather differently natured nuclei in atoms and cells has potential to act as a linguistic learning impediment (a form of associative learning impediment) as one meaning will likely already be established when a learner meets the other use of the word. It perhaps makes matters worse that part of the meaning, the central component (the structural 'face' of the concept), is the same, than had the usage been clearly unrelated (as in 'bank' being a financial institution and the structure at the edge of a rvier such that the context of use make confusion unlikely). Not only that, but for Bert, these were components of similarly "really microscopic" entities (see 'The cell nucleus is "probably" bigger than an atomic nucleus').

From the perspective of the science teacher, there is little basis for confusing the nucleus of an atom with that of a cell: obviously a cell is a complex entity with a great many components, each of which has itself a complex supra-molecular structure – so clearly the atomic nucleus is on a scale many orders of magnitude smaller than a cell nucleus. However, the expert perspective is based on relating a lot of knowledge that the novice may not yet have, or at least, may not yet be coordinating. In Bert's case, he was only just starting to coordinate these ideas (see 'The cell nucleus is "probably" bigger than an atomic nucleus').

Source cited:

Some stars are closer than the planets

Stars look so little because they are a long way away, but some stars are closer than the planets

Keith S. Taber

Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When I interviewed her in her first year of secondary school (Y7 in the English school system). I asked her about what she remembered about the science she had studied in primary school. She told me about she had studied the topic of space, and had learnt about the nine planets. When I asked her if she could name the planets she produced a list of planets including both the moon and sun: "Pluto, Jupiter, Venus, Uranus, Earth, the Sun, the Moon".

[Read 'The sun is the closest of the eleven planets']

As Sophia thought the sun might be a planet, I asked her what a planet was:

Do you know what a planet is?

Erm, it's like – a round – a sphere, in space, kind of. Though we don't know if people live, animals live there or not.

…If I say someone was going through space, in a spaceship, and they are a long, long way away from earth, they've gone a long way across space, and they came across something in space…And er one of the crew said 'oh that's a planet'. And another one of the crew said 'no, that's not a planet'. And you were in charge, you were the captain. How would you decide who was right, whether that was a planet or not in space?

Er

(pause, c.5s)

I'd look if it was all the things that you thought a planet was.

Good, and what would that be?

If it was round, if it was a bit lumpy, a bit – if it was quite big, not like a little star, well there's no stars that little…

It seemed that Sophia (reasonably) thought stars would be larger than planets, which invited an obvious question, that I assumed would have an almost-as-obvious answer.

Why do they [the stars] look so little?

Because they are a long way away.

Oh, I see. So they are big really?

Yeah.

Okay. What's the difference between a star and a planet then?

A star's made up of different things, but planets – can't – cause you don't really see a planet, so you just see stars quite lot.

That's true, there is lots and lots of stars up there, isn't there? So how can you see the stars and not the planets, do you think?

I think the stars, some stars are closer, maybe, than planets.

There seemed to be something of a contradiction here. Sophia thought that 

  • stars were not as 'little' as planets
  • but they seemed little because they were a long way away.
  • but the stars were easier to see than planets
  • so they might be closer to us than the planets.

Both these arguments are logical enough suggestions (things seem smaller, and may be harder to see, if they are a long way off), but there was a lack of integration of ideas as her two explanations relied on seemingly inconsistent premises (that the stars are "are a long way away" but could be "closer, maybe, than planets").

It seemed that Sophia was not aware, or was not bringing to mind, that stars were self-luminous whereas planets were only seen by reflected light. Lacking (or not considering) that particular piece of information acted as a 'deficiency learning impediment' and led to her explaining why the planets could be more difficult to see by suggesting they might not be as close as some stars.

Not considering luminosity as a criterion also seemed to explain why she was not clear that the (self-luminous) sun was not a planet.

[Read 'The sun is the closest of the eleven planets']

Is mass conserved when water gets soaked up?

Setting up a thought experiment on plant growth and mass

Keith S. Taber

Image by truthseeker08 from Pixabay 

Sophia was a participant in the Understanding Science Project.

I was aware that research has suggested that children often do not appreciate how carbon obtained from the carbon dioxide in the air is a key source of matter for plants to build up tissue, so learners may assume that the mass increase during growth of a plant will be balanced by a mass reduction in the soil it is growing in.

"The extra [mass of a growing tree] comes from the things it eats and drinks from the ground. It's just like us eating and getting larger."

Response of 15 year old student in the National science survey carried out the Assessment of Performance Unit of the Department of Education and Science, as reported in Bell and Brook, 1984: 12.

During an interview in her first year of secondary education (Y7), Sophia reported that she had been studying plants in science, and that generally a plant was "a living thing, that takes up things from soil, to help it grow" (although some grew in ponds). Sophia was therefore asked a hypothetical question about weighing a pot of soil in which a seed was planted, with the intention of seeing if she thought that the gain in mas of the seed as it grew into a mature plant would be balanced by a loss of mass from the soil.

Sophia was asked about a pot of soil (mass 400g) in which was planted a seed (1g), and which was then watered (adding 49g of water).

The scenario outlined to Sophia

There seemed two likely outcomes of this thought experiment:

  • A learner considers that the mass of pot, seed and water is collectively 450g, and assumes that as the mass of plant grows, the mass of soil decreases accordingly to conserve total mass at 450g.
  • A learner is aware that in photosynthesis carbon is 'captured' from carbon dioxide in the air, so the mass of the plant in the soil will exceed 450g once the plant grows.

Of course, a learner might also invoke other considerations – the evaporation of the water, or the acquisition of water due to condensation of water from cold air (e.g., dew); that soil is not inert, but contains micro-organisms that have their own metabolism, etc.

I first wanted to check that Sophia appreciated we had (400 + 1 + 49 =) 450g of material at the point the seed was first watered. That was indeed her initial thought, but she soon 'corrected' herself.

Any idea how much it would weigh now?

[Four] hundred and fifty, no, cause, no cause it will soak it up, wouldn't it, so just over four hundred (400).

So we had four hundred (400) grammes of soil plus pot, didn't we?

Uh hm.

…And we had one (1) gramme of erm, of plant seed. Just one little seed, one (1) gramme. And forty nine (49) grammes of water. But the water gets soaked up into the soil, does it? So when it's soaked up, you reckon it would be, what?

Erm, four hundred and twenty (420).

Sophia's best guess at the mass of the pot with soil (initially 400g) after planting a 1g seed and adding 49g of water was 420g, as the water gets soaked up.

So, Sophia suggests that although 49g of water has been added to a pot (with existing contents) of mass 401g , the new total mass will be less than 450g, as the water is soaking into the soil. Her logic seems to be that some of the water will have soaked into the soil, so it's mass is not registered by the balance.

If you poured the water in, quite quickly, not so quickly that it splashes everywhere, but quite quickly. Before it had a chance to soak up, if you could read what it said on the balance before it had a chance to soak up, do you think it would say four hundred and twenty (420) grammes straight away?

No, it would probably be just under, erm, four hundred and fifty (450).

And it would gradually drop down to about four twenty (420) say, would it?

Yeah.

Might be four hundred and fifteen? (415) Could be four hundred and twenty five (425)?

Yeah.

Not entirely sure,

No

but something like that?

Yeah.

It appears Sophia recognises that in principle there would be a potential mass of 450g when the water is added, but as it soaks up, less mass is registered.

Sophia recognises that mass is initially conserved, at least before the water soaks into the soil.

In other words Sophia in the context of water soaking into soil is not conserving mass.

This is a similar thought experiment to when students are asked about the mass registered during dissolving, where some learners suggest that as a solid dissolves the total mass of the beaker/flask plus its contents decreases, as if the mass of the dissolved material is not registered (Taber, 2002). In that case it has been mooted that ideas about buoyancy may be involved – at least when it is clear that the learners recognise the dissolved material is still present in the solution.

However, that would not explain why Sophia thinks the balance would not register the mass of water soaked into the soil in this case. Rather, it sees more a notion that 'out of sight' is out of mass. Sophia's understanding of what is happening to mass here would be considered an alternative conception or misconception, and is likely based on her intuition about the scenario (acting as a grounded learning impediment) rather than something she has been told.

Sources cited:
  • Bell, B., & Brook, A. (1984). Aspects of Secondary Students' Understanding of Plant Nutrition. Leeds: : Centre for Studies in Science and Mathematics Education, University of Leeds.
  • Taber, K. S. (2002). Chemical Misconceptions – Prevention, Diagnosis and Cure. London: Royal Society of Chemistry.

Sleep can give us energy

Sleep, like food, can give us a bit more energy

Keith S. Taber

Image by Daniela Dimitrova from Pixabay 

Jim was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When I was talking to students on that project I would ask them what they were studying in science, rather than ask them about my own agenda of topics. However, I was interested in the extent to which they integrated and linked their science knowledge, so I would from time to time ask if topics they told me about were linked with other topics they had discussed with me. The following extract is taken from the fourth of a sequence of interviews during Jim's first year in secondary school (Y7 in the English school system).

And earlier in the year, you were doing about dissolving sugar. Do you remember that?

Erm, yeah.

Do you think that's got anything to do with the human body?

Erm, we eat sugar.

Mm. True.

Gives us energy…It powers us.

Ah. And why do we need power do you think?

So we can move.

This seemed a reasonable response, but I was intrigued to know if Jim was yet aware of metabolism and how the tissues require a supply of sugar even when there is no obvious activity.

Ah what if you were a lazy person, say you were a very lazy rich person? And you were able to lie in bed all day, watch telly, whatever you like, didn't have to move, didn't have to budge an eyelid, … you're rich, your servants do everything for you? Would you till need energy?

Yes.

Why?

I dunno, 'cause being in bed's tired, tiring.

Is it?

When I'm ill, I stay off for a day, I just feel tired, and like at the end of the day, even more tired than I do when I come to school some times.

Jim's argument failed to allow for the difference in initial conditions

Staying in bed all day and avoiding exercise could indeed make one feel tired, but there seemed something of a confound here (being ill) and I wondered if the reason he stayed in bed on these days might be a factor in feeling even more tired than usual.

So maybe when you are ill, you should come to school, and then you would feel better?

No.

No, it doesn't work like that?

No.

Okay, so why do you think we get tired, when we are just lying, doing absolutely nothing?

Because, it's using a lot of our energy, doing something.

Hm, so even when we are lying at home ill, not doing anything, somehow we are using energy doing something, are we?

Yes.

What might that be, what might we use energy for?

Thinking.

I thought this was a good response, as I was not sure all students of his age would realise that thinking involved energy – although my own conceptualisation was in terms of cellular metabolism, and how thinking depend on transmitting electrical signals along axons and across synapses. I suspected Jim might not have been thinking in such terms.

Do you think it uses energy to think?

(Pause, c.3s)

Probably.

Why do you think that?

Well cause, like, when you haven't got any energy, you can't think, like the same as TV, when it hasn't got any energy, it can't work. So it's a bit like our brains, when we have not got enough energy we feel really tired, and we just want to go to sleep, which can give us more energy, a bit like food.

So Jim here offered an argument about cause and effect- when you haven't got any energy, you can't think. This would certainly be literally true (without any source of energy, no biological functioning would continue, including thinking) although of course Jim had clearly never experienced that absolute situation (as he was still alive to be interviewed), and was presumably referring to experiences of feeling mentally tired and not being able to concentrate.

He offered an analogy, that we are like televisions, in that we do not work without energy. The TV needs to be connected to an electrical supply, and the body needs food (such as sugar, as Jim had suggested) and oxygen. But Jim also used a simile – that sleep was like food. Sleep, like food, according to Jim could give us energy.

So sleeping can give us energy?

Yeah.

How does that work?

Er, it's like putting a battery onto charge, probably, you go to sleep, and then you don't have to do anything, for a little while, and you, then you wake up and you feel – less tired.

Okay so, you think you might need energy to think, because if you have not got any energy, you are very tired, you can't think very well, but somehow if you have a sleep, that might somehow bring the energy back?

Yeah.

So where does that energy come from?

(Pause c.2s)

Erm – dunno.

So here Jim used another analogy, sleeping was like charging a battery. When putting a battery on change, we connect it to a charger, but Jim did not suggest how sleep recharged us, except in that we could rest. When sleeping "you don't have to do anything, for a little while", which might explain a pause in depletion of energy supplies, but would not explain how energy levels were built up again.

[A potentially useful comparison here might have been a television, or a lap top used to watch programmes, with an internal battery, where the there is a buffer between the external supply, and the immediate source for functioning.]

This was an interesting response. At one level it was a deficient answer, as energy is conserved, and Jim's suggestion seemed to require energy to be created or to appear from some unspecified source.

Jim's responses here offered a number of interesting comparisons:

  • sleep is a bit like food in providing energy
  • not having energy and not being able to think is like a TV which cannot work without energy
  • sleeping is like putting a battery on charge

Both science, and science teaching/communication draw a good deal on similes, metaphors and analogies, but they tend to function as interim tools (sources of creative ideas that scientists can then further explore; or means to help someone get a {metaphorical!} foothold on an idea that needs to later be more formally understood).

The idea that sleeping works like recharging a battery could act as an associative learning impediment as there is a flaw in the analogy: putting a battery on charge connects it to an external power source; sleep is incredibility important for various (energy requiring) processes that maintain physical and mental health, and helps us feel rested, but does not in itself source energy. Someone who thought that sleeping works like recharging a battery will not need to wonder how the body accesses energy during sleep as they they seem to have an explanation. (They have access to a pseudo-explanation: sleep restores our energy levels because it is like recharging a battery.)

Jim's discourse reflects what has been called 'the natural attitude' or the 'lifeworld', the way we understand common experiences and talk about them in everyday life. It is common folk knowledge that resting gives you energy (indeed, both exercise and rest are commonly said to give people energy!)

In 'the lifeworld', we run out of energy, we recharge our batteries by resting, and sleep gives us energy. Probably even many science teachers use such expressions when off duty. Each of these notions is strictly incorrect from the scientific perspective. A belief that sleep gives you energy would be an alternative conception, and one that could act as a grounded learning impediment, getting in the way of learning the scientific account.

Yet they each also offer a potential entry point to understanding the scientific accounts. In one respect, Jim has useful 'resources' that can be built on to learn about metabolism, as long as the habitual use of technically incorrect, but common everyday, ways of talking do not act as learning impediments by making it difficult to appreciate how the science teacher is using similar language to express a somewhat different set of ideas.