Decolonisation of Thought

Over the course of 2015, and going into 2016, the decolonisation of the university has become a major topic of discussion amongst academics and activists alike. I must admit that I didn’t completely understand what ‘decolonising’ meant. Until recently, my understanding was superficial and many of the explanations I came across were from people I found to be self-interested and superficial. In other words, I wasn’t convinced that it’s important.

A shift in my thinking happened few weeks ago, when an old high school colleague posted a meme on social media, that on the surface seemed simply rude, originating from a neo-Nazi website. This was not the first time that this person posted something questionable but it was the first time I gave it any thought and made me question the origin of that type of thinking; even more so because the person in question is currently a university lecturer.

Few events have changed the course of human history as much as colonialism has. European values, knowledge systems and thought occupied and displaced the indigenous across the globe: Africa, North America, Australia… The practice of natural science research is heavily based on Western trains of thought – not as “impartial” as it claims to be. For example, Dorothy Roberts has written extensively on the way race has been used harmfully in determining medical treatments. Yet, our academic institutions remain steeped in colonial thought patterns. In a recent presentation at the University of Johannesburg Professor Siphamandla Zondi, termed such death of other knowledge systems as the “epistimicide”.

This brings us to why the decolonisation debate is so important.

It is not about erasing colonial-based knowledge systems but rather acknowledging that there are other ways of knowing. In the 21st century the world is faced with tremendous challenges that cannot be solved by individual researchers, and funding agencies encourage international collaborations to help solve these problems. But all these researchers remain steeped in western thoughts, in colonial approaches. Are we really making the biggest possible impact if we actively throw out what is left of indigenous knowledge systems instead of building on them? Or ignoring the source of some of the knowledge, as is seen with the ignoring of the input of Mesopotamian and Babylonian thought in the development of Greek science and technology. Greece is often understood as the basis of ‘modern’ western society.

Why are we so afraid, now, to admit that colonial thought patterns alone are not the only way to solve the world’s grand challenges?

It is critical that as academics we challenge and disrupt the current norms. How do we know which aspects of indigenous knowledge are helpful and which harmful, if we hardly acknowledge the existence of such systems? Can the bloody-minded individualism that characterises colonial thought really be applied fruitfully to a continent and its people, who live Ubuntu? If we only try to view our continent’s challenges in a narrow Eurocentric manner, we potentially miss out on solutions that are appropriate for our environment. And people like my former schoolmate keep on posting their narrow-minded ideals as the way things should be.

There is room for different ways of thinking and teaching. Decolonised teaching goes beyond teaching in indigenous languages and inclusion of non-European writers. Laila Boisselle notes that most often, indigenous forms of science are relational rather than ‘objective’. This means that for modern day use, we would need to relook at indigenous knowledge systems, often dismissed as folklore and ethno-philosophy, and find ways to incorporate them into the curriculum.

The pre-colonial empire of Benin, in modern day south west Nigeria, provides a perfect example of how much can be gained from non-Western sources, if it is not ignored. It was one of the most technologically sophisticated cities in existence, that even the first European visitors were astounded  at that advanced level of architectural and mathematical technology in use. Today, much of that knowledge is lost. However, in all societies, both the natural and social sciences, have much gain from indigenous knowledge.

On a practical level, this would mean not only developing and using, for instance isiZulu terminology in teaching, but, also re-engineering our curriculum to include our indigenous knowledge. How exactly this can be done successfully is still a matter to be worked out; however, it is completely necessary. Imagine the wealth of information that can be garnered in the culturally varied Southern Africa alone!

We live in an era where the Internet has radically changed access to contemporary information. But now we cannot afford to lose the patterns of thinking, and wealth of information that existed before Vasco De Gama, Pinto or Van Riebeeck ever crossed the sea.

Part 1: four reasons to improve your #scicomm skills

Most people aren’t scientists. And scientists love to split metaphorical (and literal) hairs amongst themselves, creating a barrier of jargon and statistics between themselves and the rest of the world. But in the current era of information overload, all people create their own hypotheses, their own ideas, and draw their own conclusions based on whatever unverified information is out there. And, more and more, this means that the average person does not trust the average scientist.

SciComm

It is becoming crucial for scientists themselves to speak up, because science should not be hidden, mysterious, unintelligible. Below I have listed four reasons for improving our science communication skills, effectively improving the accessibility of science. If you have more reasons, I encourage you to comment below.

Improve democracy

The success and effectiveness of democracy depends on the education of the voters. The more innovative, skillful, and knowledgeable the voting population is, the stronger the democracy. Making an effort to increase the accessibility of science will enhance the education system, inform more decisions, and promote innovation. Science also provides opportunities to improve citizenship. Involving the public in, or effectively sharing about the scientific process will improve democracy.

ResearchCitizenship

 Inspire the next generation

Many of the tips for communicating science (e.g. less jargon, shorter sentences, etc.) essentially lower the reading level required for understanding science writing, thereby improving accessibility and reaching younger audiences. Thus, improving our science communication skills will enable us to reach and inspire a younger audience.

In addition, social media is widely recognized as a tool for communicating science and has been described as the language of the youth. Mastering outreach on these platforms requires improving science communication skills (e.g. introducing a paper with only 140 characters on Twitter), but will likely reach youth that wouldn’t have known about our research otherwise.

Adapt to shifts in funding

More and more, the importance of this skill is being recognized, with top-down calls for more science engagement and ‘science for society’. Requirements from grant-funding agencies are, right now, changing! For example, many project proposals have to commit to disseminating the outcomes to society or incorporate ‘broader impacts’, such as mentoring a student or conducting educational outreach.

I was first introduced to the ‘broader impacts’ requirement when applying for the National Science Foundation (NSF) Graduate Research Fellowship Program in the US. Each proposal required a section titled ‘Broader Impacts’ where I was meant to explain how my project would immediately benefit society, aside from the results of the research. Educational outreach and public engagement are ideal criteria for this section, and both of these activities heavily depend on science communication skills. To my knowledge, the NSF now requires a statement of broader impacts on every proposal.

Ensure accuracy

The final reason I suggest improving your science communication ability is so that you can share your own research yourself. Regardless of how good external science communicators are (science journalists, media specialists, marketing agents, public relations, etc.), the scientists that did the research have the best understanding of its significance. Inevitably, like the ‘telephone’ game we played when we were children, the message gets distorted the farther it gets from the source. Results are commonly reported inaccurately in media because the writers aren’t scientists, and they want to sell issues rather than report results. Generally, the results aren’t distorted, but the relativity, representation, and implications are.

The personal justification for me to spend time practicing and improving my science communication comes from the same part of the heart as my passion for research. If you are like me, having pursued a career of research as a means to make a positive impact on the planet, I am confident fine-tuning your ability to communicate science will increase the size of that impact. Together we can improve the face of science in the public eye, inspiring others and informing more decisions, while learning to make the most of the world we live in for the people around us.