Why the media need to tread carefully when reporting research findings

Author: Dr Hannah Brown

Last week, the聽聽was awarded to biomedical scientist and stem cell researcher, Professor Alan Mackay-Sim. To have a scientist recognised for such a prestigious award was extraordinary, especially during such a challenging time for聽听补苍诲听.

But alas, there was barely time for the firework-smoke-haze to clear and Australia Day hangovers to subside before聽聽and accusations were made that Professor Mackay-Sim had played no role in the scientific miracle that saw a paralysed man walk again.

While the types of cells used were similar (stem cells taken from the nose), the team responsible for the 鈥渕iracle鈥 say Mackay-Sim鈥檚 work聽聽their own. Mackay-Sim聽聽to make this clear over the course of his duties as Australian of the Year.

Is basic research front page news?

While it鈥檚 unlikely we will ever know how his role was so misconstrued, the over-exaggeration and inflation of fundamental results is a common story. Any scientist with media experience is likely to have a horror story to share, of mistruths and misconceptions of the impact of their research being aired publicly as breaking news.

础濒尘辞蝉迟听聽we hear of another 鈥済round breaking cancer treatment breakthrough,鈥 but how many make it to the clinic, and how many will actually help patients? The honest answer is: very few. Even if they survive the scientific rigour of laboratory trials, the path to clinical trials is long and expensive, with most lost along the way.

How often do scientists get to speak freely about their (often life-long) contribution, without expectation of an outcome, without making a pill or device? How often do they get to say: 鈥淚 contributed knowledge to a pathway that may help us to treat a wide range of diseases, but it鈥檚 still many years away鈥. Rarely, if ever.

After all, finding the cause is the first step towards finding the cure, but unfortunately, describing how something happens or works is far less sexy, and attracts far less attention than 鈥渃uring cancer鈥, 鈥渞eversing infertility鈥 or 鈥渉elping a paralysed man walk again鈥.

As scientists, we can most often predict the pressing questions from the media: 鈥渨hen will we see the first trials鈥 or 鈥渉ow soon do you think this will be helping patients鈥, but the answers aren鈥檛 simple, or front page news worthy. It鈥檚 a long road, perhaps聽聽from many laboratory discoveries to a product.

Over-inflation of the facts helps no one

As I heard the story, I had immediate empathy and compassion for Mackay-Sim. After all, the Australian of the Year isn鈥檛 a science award, it鈥檚 an award that recognises contribution. And I鈥檓 certain there鈥檚 absolutely no question among scientists that Professor Mackay-Sim is worthy of a contribution award.

But the empathy was more personal. I, too, know the experience of a media frenzy following a 鈥渂reakthrough鈥 discovery, which left patients (perhaps) more hopeful than they should be, and me scrambling for answers. We had made a great discovery, but one that required far more research before it would ever be ready for patients.

To the media,聽, reversed ageing and were changing the face of fertility treatment in Australia. I received thousands of emails from desperate couples hoping to benefit from my research findings: from women who had received radiation as teenagers, saving them from cancer, but rendering them infertile as adults; from parents, whose children were unable to conceive; from business execs who had 鈥渨aited too long鈥.

I was temporarily traumatised, but realised my role as a scientist meant working hard both towards fundamental discovery, translation and to communicate those discoveries with the media and the public.

What causes this over-inflation?

The pressure to perform as an Australian scientist is greater than ever, with聽, and聽. The National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC) funds scientists for three to five years at a time, which is considerably shorter than the time taken to turn a fundamental discovery into a treatment or cure.

As scientists, we are encouraged to think big, to elaborate on the 鈥渃linical relevance鈥 and 鈥渢ranslation capacity鈥 of our research in every application, even though this may be many years away.

When combined with a front page story, research that 鈥渓ooks promising in animal models鈥 can easily become 鈥渋s ready for clinical trial鈥, and while to the average person that may seem like a small jump, it may be a decade in reality. Add an emotive interview or photo, a sick child or young couple plagued by infertility who are 鈥渉opeful this breakthrough will help鈥 them, and you have a recipe for over-inflation.

Some important lessons

The most important lesson here for scientists is learning how to effectively engage with the media. Now, more than ever, in a world filled with 鈥渇ake news鈥, it鈥檚 up to researchers to work hard to have accurate messages publicised. Be positive about the future, but also honest about what this discovery means and how likely it is the research will translate into outcomes.

And the media need to provide a place for open and honest dialogue, for conversation and exchange. Ask about the next steps. Is more laboratory testing required? How long has it taken to get to this point? Do we know if it鈥檚 safe? What would it take to make this a treatment or cure? And if the research was performed in animals, then say so. And remember, 鈥渨orld first鈥 is exactly that, the first time it has occurred, meaning the end goal may be out of reach, for now.

And readers need to ask questions, be sceptical and engage. Be involved, check out聽, and contribute to Australia鈥檚 vibrant science community.


, Post-doctoral Fellow; Reproductive Epigenetics,聽

This article was originally published on聽. Read the聽.

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