Unintended downside of knowledge

One of the first things I had to learn when going into a research-focused graduate program was how to read lengthy (and often dreadfully boring) research articles. The next step was to learn how to write these articles. As we’re told over and over again, peer-reviewed publications are the “coin of the realm” in academia. Considering how much worth is placed on writing and publishing peer-reviewed research articles, it is surprising how little time is allocated to teaching us how to best communicate our research results.

Why is it that those tasked with creating and sharing knowledge seem to be the worst at doing so effectively?

In the Truthful Art, Dr. Cairo writes about how he explained to his 8-year-old daughter why planets never stop spinning. In addition to the fun use of sketches, what really stood out to me is when he says: “I adapted the message to my audience by getting rid of jargon and equations, but I respected the essence of the facts and my daughter’s intelligence.”

That sounds like the perfect strategy, now… how do I do that?

In my graduate training, I provide therapy services to kids, teach undergraduate courses, and write scientific articles. I struggle to find the balance between limiting jargon and respecting “the essence of facts” and the intelligence of my intended audience. To be honest, this task is easiest when I’m working with children. I’m not worried about coming across as condescending by using simple language and fun examples like I would be if teaching a class of undergraduate students.

It is much harder when explaining my research to my peers and superiors. The more education my audience has, the more I struggle to determine the best way to communicate. All of this reminds me of Dr. Steven Pinker’s “Curse of Knowledge” – Once we reach a certain level of education, we struggle to remember what it was like to not have that knowledge. Dr. Pinker writes:

“The curse of knowledge is the single best explanation I know of why good people write bad prose. It simply doesn’t occur to the writer that her readers don’t know what she knows…” and “Expertise can make our thoughts more idiosyncratic and thus harder to share: as we become familiar with something, we think about it more in terms of the use we put it to and less in terms of what it looks like and what it is made of.”

This makes me think of the illustration of the “Island of Knowledge” from the Truthful Art, but in my version, I envision an individual standing in the center of the island and not being able to recall the view from the Sea of Mystery.