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.


Cells are buzzing cities that are balloons with harpoons

What can either wander door to door, or rush to respond; and when it arrives might touch, sniff, nip, rear up, stroke, seal, or kill?


Keith S. Taber


a science teacher would need to be more circumspect in throwing some of these metaphors out there, without then doing some work to transition from them to more technical, literal, and canonical accounts


BBC Radio 4's 'Start the week' programme is not a science programme, but tends to invite in guests (often authors of some kind) each week according to some common theme. This week there was a science theme and the episode was titled 'Building the Body, Opening the Heart', and was fascinating. It also offers something of a case study in how science gets communicated in the media.


Building the Body, Opening the Heart

The guests all had life-science backgrounds:

Their host was geneticist and broadcaster Adam Rutherford.

Communicating science through the media

As a science educator I listen to science programmes both to enhance and update my own science knowledge and understanding, but also to hear how experts present scientific ideas when communicating to a general audience. Although neither science popularisation nor the work of scientists in communicating to the public is entirely the same as formal teaching (for example,

  • there is no curriculum with specified target knowledge; and
  • the audiences
    • are not well-defined,
    • are usually much more diverse than found in classrooms, and
    • are free to leave at any point they lose interest or get a better offer),

they are, like teachers, seeking to inform and explain science.

Science communicators, whether professional journalists or scientists popularising their work, face similar challenges to science teachers in getting across often complex and abstract ideas; and, like them, need to make the unfamiliar familiar. Science teachers are taught about how they need to connect new material with the learners' prior knowledge and experiences if it is to make sense to the students. But successful broadcasters and popularisers also know they need to do this, using such tactics as simplification, modelling, metaphor and simile, analogy, teleology, anthropomorphism and narrative.

Perhaps one of the the biggest differences between science teaching and science communication in the media is the ultimate criterion of success. For science teachers this is (sadly) usually, primarily at least, whether students have understood the material, and will later recall it, sufficiently to demonstrate target knowledge in exams. The teacher may prefer to focus on whether students enjoy science, or develop good attitudes to science, or will consider working in science: but, even so, they are usually held to account for students' performance levels in high-stakes tests.

Science journalists and popularisers do not need to worry about that. Rather, they have to be sufficiently engaging for the audience to feel they are learning something of interest and understanding it. Of course, teachers certainly need to be engaging as well, but they cannot compromise what is taught, and how it is understood, in order to entertain.

With that in mind, I was fascinated at the range of ways the panel of guests communicated the science in this radio show. Much of the programme had a focus on cells – and these were described in a variety of ways.

Talking about cells

Dr Rutherford introduced cells as

  • "the basic building blocks of life on earth"; and observed that he had
  • "spent much of my life staring down microscopes at these funny, sort of mundane, unremarkable, gloopy balloons"; before suggesting that cells were
  • "actually really these incredible cities buzzing with activity".

Dr. Mukherjee noted that

"they're fantastical living machines" [where a cell is the] "smallest unit of life…and these units were built, as it were, part upon part like you would build a Lego kit"

Listeners were told how Robert Hooke named 'cells' after observing cork under the microscope because the material looked like a series of small rooms (like the cells where monks slept in monasteries). Hooke (1665) reported,

"I took a good clear piece of Cork, and with a Pen-knife sharpen'd as keen as a Razor, I cut a piece of it off, and…cut off from the former smooth surface an exceeding thin piece of it, and…I could exceeding plainly perceive it to be all perforated and porous, much like a Honey-comb, but that the pores of it were not regular; yet it was not unlike a Honey-comb in these particulars

…these pores, or cells, were not very deep, but consisted of a great many little Boxes, separated out of one continued long pore, by certain Diaphragms, as is visible by the Figure B, which represents a sight of those pores split the long-ways.

Robert Hooke

Hooke's drawing of the 'pores' or 'cells' in cork

Components of cells

Dr. Mukherjee described how

"In my book I sort of board the cell as though it's a spacecraft, you will see that it's in fact organised into rooms and there are byways and channels and of course all of these organelles which allow it to work."

We were told that "the cell has its own skeleton", and that the organelles included the mitochondria and nuclei ,

"[mitochondria] are the energy producing organelles, they make energy in most cells, our cells for instance, in human cells. In human cells there's a nucleus, which stores DNA, which is where all the genetic information is stored."


A cell that secretes antibodies which are like harpoons or missiles that it sends out to kill a pathogen?

(Images by by envandrare and OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay)


Immune cells

Rutherford moved the conversation onto the immune system, prompting 'Sid' that "There's a lovely phrase you use to describe T cells, which is door to door wanderers that can detect even the whiff of an invader". Dr. Mukherjee distinguished between the cells of the innate immune system,

"Those are usually the first responder cells. In humans they would be macrophages, and neutrophils and monocytes among them. These cells usually rush to the site of an injury, or an infection, and they try to kill the pathogen, or seal up the pathogen…"

and the cells of the adaptive system, such as B cells and T cells,

"The B cell is a cell that eventually becomes a plasma cell which secretes antibodies. Antibodies, they are like harpoons or missiles which the cell sends out to kill a pathogen…

[A T cell] goes around sniffing other cells, basically touching them and trying to find out whether they have been altered in some way, particularly if they are carrying inside them a virus or any other kind of pathogen, and if it finds this pathogen or a virus in your body, it is going to go and kill that virus or pathogen"


A cell that goes around sniffing other cells, touching them? 1
(Images by allinonemovie and OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay)

Cells of the heart

Another topic was the work of Professor Harding on the heart. She informed listeners that heart cells did not get replaced very quickly, so that typically when a person dies half of their heart cells had been there since birth! (That was something I had not realised. It is believed that this is related to how heart cells need to pulse in synchrony so that the whole organ functions as an effective pumping device – making long lasting cells that seldom need replacing more important than in many other tissues.)

At least, this relates to the cardiomyocytes – the cells that pulse when the heart beats (a pulse that can now be observed in single cells in vitro). Professor Harding described how in the heart tissue there are also other 'supporting' cells, such as "resident macrophages" (immune cells) as well as other cells moving around the cardiomyocytes. She describe her observations of the cells in Petri dishes,

"When you look at them in the dish it's incredible to see them interact. I've got a… video [of] cardiomyocytes in a dish. The cardiomyocytes pretty much just stay there and beat and don't do anything very much, and I had this on time lapse, and you could see cells moving around them. And so, in one case, the cell (I think it was a fibroblast, it looked like a fibroblast), it came and it palpated at the cardiomyocyte, and it nipped off bits of it, it sampled bits of the cardiomyocyte, and it just stroked it all the way round, and then it was, it seemed to like it a lot.

[In] another dish I had the same sort of cardiomyocyte, a very similar cell came in, it went up to the cardiomyocyte, it touched it, and as soon as it touched it, I can only describe it as it reared up and it had, little blobs appeared all over its surface, and it rushed off, literally rushed off, although it was time lapse so it was two minutes over 24 hours, so, it literally rushed off, so what had it found, why did one like it and the other one didn't?"

Making the unfamiliar, familiar

The snippets from the broadcast that I have reported above demonstrate a wide range of ways that the unfamiliar is made familiar by describing it in terms that a listener can relate to through their existing prior knowledge and experience. In these various examples the listener is left to carry across from the analogue features of the familiar (the city, the Lego bricks, human interactions, etc.) those that parallel features of the target concept – the cell. So, for example, the listener is assumed to appreciate that cells, unlike Lego bricks, are not built up through rigid, raised lumps that fit precisely in depressions on the next brick/cell. 2

Analogies with the familiar

Hooke's original label of the cell was based on a kind of analogy – an attempt to compare what we has seeing with something familiar: "pores, or cells…a great many little Boxes". He used the familiar simile of the honeycomb (something directly familiar to many more people in the seventeenth century when food was not subject to large-scale industrialised processing and packaging).

Other analogies, metaphors and similes abound. Cells are visually like "gloopy balloons", but functionally are "building blocks" (strictly a metaphor, albeit one that is used so often it has become treated as though a literal description) which can be conceptualised as being put together "like you would build a Lego kit" (a simile) although they are neither fixed, discrete blocks of a single material, nor organised by some external builder. They can be considered conceptually as the"smallest unit of life"(though philosophers argue about such descriptions and what counts as an individual in living systems).

The machine description ("fantastical living machines") reflects one metaphor very common in early modern science and cells as "incredible cities" is also a metaphor. Whether cells are literally machines is a matter of how we extend or limit our definition of machines: cells are certainly not actually cities, however, and calling them such is a way of drawing attention to the level of activity within each (often, apparently from observation, quite static) cell. B cells secrete antibodies, which the listener is old are like (a simile) harpoons or missiles – weapons.

Skeletons of the dead

Whether "the cell has its own skeleton" is a literal or metaphorical statement is arguable. It surely would have originally been a metaphoric description – there are structures in the cell which can be considered analogous to the skeleton of an organism. If such a metaphor is used widely enough, in time the term's scope expands to include its new use – and it becomes (what is called, metaphorically) a 'dead metaphor'.

Telling stories about cells

A narrative is used to help a listener imagine the cell at the scale of "a spacecraft". This is "organised into rooms and there are byways and channels" offering an analogy for the complex internal structure of a cell. Most people have never actually boarded a spacecraft, but they are ubiquitous in television and movie fiction, so a listener can certainly imagine what this might be like.


Endoplastic reticulum? (Still from Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Paramount Pictures, 1979)

Oversimplification?

The discussion of organelles illustrates how simplifications have to be made when introducing complex material. This always brings with it dangers of oversimplification that may impede further learning, or even encourage the development of alternative conceptions. So, the nucleus does not, strictly, 'store' "all the genetic information" in a cell (mitochondria carry their own genes for example).

More seriously, perhaps, mitochondria do not "make energy". 'More seriously' as the principle of conservation of energy is one of the most basic tenets of modern science and is considered a very strong candidate for a universal law. Children are often taught in school that energy cannot be created or destroyed. Science communication which is contrary to this basic curriculum science could confuse learners – or indeed members of the public seeking to understand debates about energy policy and sustainability.

Anthropomorphising cells

Cells are not only compared to inanimate entities like balloons, building bricks, cities and spaceships. They are also described in ways that make them seem like sentient agents – agents that have experiences, and conscious intentions, just as people do. So, some immune cells are metaphorical 'first responders' and just as emergency services workers they "rush to the site" of an incident. To rush is not just to move quickly, buy to deliberately do so. (By contrast, Paul McAuley refers to "innocent" amoeboid cells that collectively form into the plasmodium of a slime mould spending most of their lives"bumbling around by themselves" before they "get together". ) The immune cells act deliberately – they "try" to kill. Other immune cells "send out" metaphorical 'missiles' "to kill a pathogen". Again this language suggests deliberate action (i.e., to send out) and purpose.

That is, what is described is not just some evolved process, but something teleological: there is a purpose to sending out antibodies – it is a deliberate act with an aim in mind. This type of language is very common in biology – even referring to the 'function' of the heart or kidney or a reflex arc could be considered as misinterpreting the outcome of evolutionary developments. (The heart pumps blood through the vascular system, but referring to a function could suggest some sense of deliberate design.)

Not all cells are equal

I wonder how many readers noticed the reference above to 'supporting' cells in the heart. Professor Harding had said

"When you look inside the [heart] tissue there are many other cells [than cardiomyocytes] that are in there, supporting it, there are resident macrophages, I think we still don't know really what they are doing in there"

Why should some heart cells be seen as more important and others less so? Presumably because 'the function' of a heart is to beat, to pump, so clearly the cells that pulse are the stars, and the other cells that may be necessary but are not obviously pulsing just a supporting cast. (So, cardiomyocytes are considered heart cells, but macrophages in the same tissue are only cells that are found in the heart, "residents" – to use an analogy of my own, like migrants that have not been offered citizenship!)3

That is, there is a danger here that this way of thinking could bias research foci leading researchers to ignore something that may ultimately prove important. This is not fanciful, as it has happened before, in the case of the brain:

"Glial cells, consisting of microglia, astrocytes, and oligodendrocyte lineage cells as their major components, constitute a large fraction of the mammalian brain. Originally considered as purely non-functional glue for neurons, decades of research have highlighted the importance as well as further functions of glial cells."

Jäkel and Dimou, 2017
The lives of cells

Narrative is used again in relation to the immune cells: an infection is presented as a kind of emergency event which is addressed by special (human like) workers who protect the body by repelling or neutralising invaders. "Sniffing" is surely an anthropomorphic metaphor, as cells do not actually sniff (they may detect diffusing substances, but do not actively inhale them). Even "touching" is surely an anthropomorphism. When we say two objects are 'touching' we mean they are in contact, as we touch things by contact. But touching is sensing, not simply adjacency.

If that seems to be stretching my argument too far, to refer to immune cells "trying to find out…" is to use language suggesting an epistemic agent that can not only behave deliberately, but which is able to acquire knowledge. A cell can only "find" an infectious agent if it is (i.e., deliberately) looking for something. These metaphors are very effective in building up a narrative for the listener. Such a narrative adopts familiar 'schemata', recognisable patterns – the listener is aware of emergency workers speeding to the scene of an incident and trying to put out a fire or seeking to diagnose a medical issue. By fitting new information into a pattern that is familiar to the audience, technical and abstract ideas are not only made easier to understand, but more likely to be recalled later.

Again, an anthropomorphic narrative is used to describe interactions between heart cells. So, a fibroblast that "palpates at" a cardiomyocyte seems to be displaying deliberate behaviour: if "nipping" might be heard as some kind of automatic action – "sampling" and "stroking" surely seem to be deliberate behaviour. A cell that "came in, it went up [to another]" seems to be acting deliberately. "Rearing up" certainly brings to mind a sentient being, like a dog or a horse. Did the cell actually 'rear up'? It clearly gave that impression to Professor Harding – that was the best way, indeed the "only" way, she had to communicate what she saw.

Again we have cells "rushing" around. Or do we? The cell that had reared up, "rushed off". Actually, it appeared to "rush" when the highly magnified footage was played at 720 times the speed of the actual events. Despite acknowledging this extreme acceleration of the activity, the impression was so strong that Professor Harding felt justified in claiming the cell "literally rushed off, although it was time lapse so it was two minutes over 24 hours, so, it literally rushed off…". Whatever it did, that looked like rushing with the distortion of time-lapse viewing, it certainly did not literally rush anywhere.

But the narrative helps motivate a very interesting question, which is why the two superficially similar cells 'behaved' ('reacted', 'responded' – it is actually difficult to find completely neutral language) so differently when in contact with a cardiomyocyte. In more anthropomorphic terms: what had these cells "found, why did one like it and the other one didn't?"

Literally speaking?

Metaphorical language is ubiquitous as we have to build all our abstract ideas (and science has plenty of those) in terms of what we can experience and make sense of. This is an iterative process. We start with what is immediately available in experience, extend metaphorically to form new concepts, and in time, once those have "settled in" and "taken root" and "firmed up" (so to speak!) they can then be themselves borrowed as the foundation for new concepts. This is true both in how the individual learns (according to constructivism) and how humanity has developed culture and extended language.

So, should science communicators (whether scientists themselves, journalists or teachers) try to limit themselves to literal language?

Even if this were possible, it would put aside some of our strongest tools for 'making the unfamiliar familiar' (to broadcast audiences, to the public, to learners in formal education). However these devices also bring risks that the initial presentations (with their simplifications and metaphors and analogies and anthropomorphic narratives…) not only engage listeners but can also come to be understood as the scientific account. That is is not an imagined risk is shown by the vast numbers of learners who think atoms want to fill their shells with octets of electrons, and so act accordingly – and think this because they believe it is what they have been taught.

Does it matter if listeners think the simplification, the analogy, the metaphor, the humanising story,… is the scientific account? Perhaps usually not in the case of the audience listening to a radio show or watching a documentary out of interest.

In education it does matter, as often learners are often expected to progress beyond these introductory accounts in their thinking, and teachers' models and metaphors and stories are only meant as a starting point in building up a formal understanding. The teacher has to first establish some kind of anchor point in the students' existing understandings and experiences, but then mould this towards the target knowledge set out in the curriculum (which is often a simplified account of canonical knowledge) before the metaphor or image or story becomes firmed-up in the learners' minds as 'the' scientific account.

'Building the Body, Opening the Heart' was a good listen, and a very informative and entertaining episode that covered a lot of ideas. It certainly included some good comparisons that science teachers might borrow. But I think in a formal educational context a science teacher would need to be more circumspect in throwing some of these metaphors out there, without then doing some work to transition from them to more technical, literal, and canonical accounts.


Read about science analogies

Read about science metaphors

Read about science similes

Read about anthropomorphism

Read about teleology


Work cited:


Notes:

1 The right hand image portrays a mine, a weapon that is used at sea to damage and destroy (surface or submarine) boats. The mine is also triggered by contact ('touch').


2 That is, in an analogy there are positive and negative aspects: there are ways in which the analogue IS like the target, and ways in which the analogue is NOT like the target. Using an analogy in communication relies on the right features being mapped from the familiar analogue to the unfamiliar target being introduced. In teaching it is important to be explicit about this, or inappropriate transfers may be made: e.g., the atom is a tiny solar system so it is held together by gravity (Taber, 2013).


3 It may be a pure coincidence in relation to the choice of term 'resident' here, but in medicine 'residents' have not yet fully qualified as specialist physicians or surgeons, and so are on placement and/or under supervision, rather than having permanent status in a hospital faculty.


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.

Plants mainly respire at night

Plants mainly respire at night because they are photosynthesising during the day

Keith S. Taber

Image by Konevi from Pixabay 

Mandy was a participant in the Understanding Science Project. When I spoke to her in Y10 (i.e. when she was c.14 year old) she told me that photosynthesis was one of the topics she was studying in science. So I asked her about photosynthesis. She suggested that "respiration produces energy, but photosynthesis produces glucose which produces energy". (See 'How plants get their food to grow and make energy'). She told me that she respired to get energy.

How do you get your energy then?

We respire.

Is that different then [from photosynthesis]?

Yeah.

So what's respire then, what do you do when you respire?

We use oxygen to, and glucose to release energy.

Do plants respire?

Yes.

So when do you respire, when you are going to go for a run or something, is that when you respire, when you need the energy?

No, you are respiring all the time.

… What about plants? Do they respire all the time?

They mainly do it at night.

Why's that?

'cause they're photosynthesising during the day, cause they need the light.

I was not clear why Mandy thought that plants should respire less when they were photosynthesising.

So why do you need to respire all the time?

'cause you're making energy and you need energy to do everything.

So are you respiring at the same rate all the time, do you think?

No.

So sometimes more than others?

Yeah.

So when might you need to respire more?

When you are doing exercise. Running around a lot.

So are there time when you do not need to respire as much?

Yeah.

So when might you not need to respire very much?

When you 're sleeping or just sitting watching tele [television].

…Do you have to respire at all during the night – you are not doing anything are you?

You need a little bit of energy.

What for?

Erm, I don't [indistinct], well I suppose it's just to keep everything, cause if you did not have energy then your heart would not beat, and you need it to keep breathing, and your heart pumping.

Mandy recognised the need for people to respire continuously, although she associated this with functioning at the organism level (breathing, blood circulation) and did not seem to be thinking about cellular level metabolism.

Why do plants need to respire? What do they use it, the energy for?

Erm, to grow, and to fix cells that are – broken.

Oh right, like repair damage?

Yeah.

So, do you think they are like us then, that they sort of sleep sometimes and don't need to respire as much, or?

Not as much, I don't know. I don't know.

Do you think a plant sleeps, a tree has a good sleep?

No.

So when do you think plants need to respire the most, or do you think they respire the same all the time?

They respire more at night, because – they do it then instead of in the day because they do photosynthesis during the day, but they still respire a little bit.

So is it difficult to try and do both at the same time?

Probably.

Or just maybe they are too busy photosynthesising to do much respiration?

Yeah, erm, I don't know.

Not sure?

No.

Mandy was not offering any specific reason why a plant should need to respire less at night (and did not seem to have previously thought about this), but simply seemed to assume that when the plant was photosynthesising a lot it would only respire "a little bit". This seemed to be an intuition rather than a considered proposition. It was almost as if she implicitly assumed that the plant would be fully occupied photosynthesising, and so would put respiration 'on the back burner'.

It seemed Mandy's understanding of the roles of photosynthesis and respiration at that point in her learning was limited by not fully seeing how energy was involved in the two processes (i.e., respiration produces energy, but photosynthesis produces glucose which produces energy), and because she was not considering the need for respiration to support ongoing basic cell functions.