In a 1978 piece for The New York Times, astronomer and science communicator extraordinaire Carl Sagan warned, “We've arranged a global civilization in which most crucial elements—transportation, communications, and all other industries; agriculture, medicine, education, entertainment, protecting the environment; and even the key democratic institution of voting—profoundly depend on science and technology. We have also arranged things so that almost no one understands science and technology. This is a prescription for disaster. We might get away with it for a while, but sooner or later this combustible mixture of ignorance and power is going to blow up in our faces.”
Headshot of Ed Finn.
Ed Finn is the founding director of the Center for Science and the Imagination at Arizona State University. The program brings together scientists, artists, educators, and policy makers to develop positive and scientifically-grounded visions for the future.
Laura Waugh
More than 40 years later, the reach and influence of science and technology are greater than ever, yet science still faces a communication problem, one that is evident in the ongoing attacks on scientific research in the US. “We're at this moment where it seems like many people feel disconnected from the grand collective narrative of science and why it's important,” said Ed Finn, founding director of the Center for Science and the Imagination at Arizona State University (ASU). Echoing this sentiment, Jotham Austin, director of the Advanced Electron Microscopy Core at the University of Chicago, said, “We as scientists have to do a better job at that.”
Science communication is increasingly recognized as important to public trust in science, yet scientists struggle to translate their findings to those unfamiliar with their research topic. Consider the ways researchers communicate at the frontiers of science: academic papers and technical talks at conferences, both restricted to niche audiences. Storytelling can help broaden the reach of science. “One thing that every scientist needs to be able to do is to tell a story about their work,” said Finn. He added, “Humans are storytelling animals, and we understand the world through stories.”
Scientists can write accessible nonfiction books, podcasts, and documentaries that summarize recent advances in the field, but another creative medium, which is not bound to the realm of present facts, is speculative fiction, which encompasses science fiction and fantasy. More than just a portal to fantastical worlds, the genre has a far, and impressionable, reach.
In the same opinion piece, Sagan recounted the years of his youth and his early fascination with science fiction, noting, “I find that science fiction has led me to science.”
Headshot of Jotham Austin.
Jotham Austin, a plant scientist by training, is director of the Advanced Electron Microscopy Facility at The University of Chicago. In his free time, he writes speculative fiction books and co-hosts the Rabbit Hole of Research podcast.
André Westhelle
“From the public point of view, I think science fiction is really important, and maybe potentially breaking down that wall,” agreed Austin, who writes science poetry and fiction in his free time.
Speculative fiction can bridge the gap between complex scientific research and public understanding, providing relatable and accessible narratives that encourage conversation and influence policy. At the same time, crafting or consuming these imagined futures challenges scientists to think beyond the lab, expanding their imaginative capacities and considering the broader societal implications of their work.
Imagined Worlds, Real Impacts: Science Fiction as a Gateway to Science
“As people get further and further away from the things that control their lives, then it becomes more mystical, more magical, more easy to control, and that's not where we want people,” said Austin.
Science fiction can provide latitude to engage in speculation and future building. In contrast to the textbook treatment, science fiction uses imaginary narratives, imagery, and characters to introduce readers to complex scientific ideas. Scientists can leverage this form of storytelling to engage different audiences and convey the importance of their work. This could help foster a society that feels more in touch with the world around them.
Finn added that the speculative medium can provide everybody with access to the same vision of the future, from members of the public and scientific community to policy makers and politicians crafting legislation. “Science fiction can often, when it's successful, give us new vocabulary to talk about innovations, but also potentially the challenges or problems around those innovations,” said Finn. He added, “Everybody can have a kind of a constructive debate and conversation around the story, because a story is much more broadly accessible than any of those technical outputs.”
An older photo of Austin who is performing on stage with someone playing guitar in the background.
During his graduate school days at Arizona State University, Austin performed science poetry with Robert (Robby) Roberson at Nita's Hideway.
Georgia Geis
This may also be a good point to note that there is a spectrum in science fiction from hard science to science-lite stories, and the degree of scientific accuracy can vary depending on the amount of research that went into the story. Sagan himself noted how, as he got older and developed as a scientist, he struggled to feign credulity with some of the more fantastical stories he enjoyed in his youth. Nevertheless, when it comes to science communication, well-researched, scientifically-grounded narratives can offer insights into otherwise complex subjects.
“I think we especially need more of this kind of speculative thinking in the life sciences,” said Finn. Finn noted that for many areas, like synthetic biology and bioengineering, our technical reach exceeds our cultural grasp. An infusion of stories that explore these topics could help communicate these advances while exploring their future impacts. Although one does not need to be a scientist to write science fiction, scientists are the best to understand the speculative nuances of their domains.
Speculative Fiction as a Science Sandbox
Getting science to inhabit the imaginations of the public is valuable, but science fiction can also help scientists expand their own imaginative capacities.
“Science fiction and science have a commonality in that a lot of the work is imaginative play,” said John Pohl, an oceanographer at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration who writes speculative fiction in his free time. Both are iterative processes of tweaking, extending, or retracting ideas. “Whether that's how you're trying to shape an experiment or study design, or whether you're crafting a setting for a speculative fiction world that you envision, it’s pretty similar.”
Science and science fiction also have a kind of symbiotic relationship whereby they can inform and shape one another. As Finn said in a story for Issues in Science and Technology, speculative fiction can be part of “an important feedback loop with real scientific and technological innovation.” Long before humans first stepped foot on the moon, the satellite served as the setting for many novels, including Jules Verne’s 1865 book From the Earth to the Moon and Johannes Kepler’s 1634 Somnium. Decades before cellphones became ubiquitous, Star Trek characters used communicators to contact their distant crewmates. Issac Asimov’s Robot Series, published throughout the mid-twentieth century, predates modern debates on the ethics of artificial intelligence. And more recently, the 2013 movie Her, which explores human relationships with artificially intelligent operating systems, debuted nearly a decade before ChatGPT became available to the public.
Of course, it’s important to recognize that science fiction is not an exercise in prognostication. Or as Finn put it, “Science fiction is not a crystal ball.” Nor is that the goal. Instead, speculative storytelling offers a space where it’s permissible to suspend disbelief while exploring broader possibilities. While these fictional stories draw inspiration from emerging advances in science and technology, they don’t invent the ideas themselves—instead, they explore how society might harness these innovations for both good and bad.
Underwater photo of John Pohl in a black diving suit surrounded by bright pink and brown coral.
By day, John Pohl works at NOAA in fisheries acoustics, using scientific sonars to explore marine community organization throughout the water column, from surface to sea floor. Outside of work, Pohl writes speculative fiction about near-future climate change scenarios and solutions. Here, Pohl can be seen swimming past a variety of hard and soft corals off the coast of the Republic of Palau.
Noel Durrant
“Fostering one's imagination is a very valuable skill,” said Pohl. Imagination is an important element of scientific research as researchers look to the past for context and clues and to the future to consider the impact of their research on society.
In Star Trek, characters can step into a fictional device called a holodeck, which generates holographic simulations of a real or imaginary setting. Finn likened imagination to a “mental holodeck” that we use to travel to the past and the future. “They're both the places that we're not right now. They're a way to step out of the present.” Engaging in science fiction can be a great exercise for building imaginative capacity.
As Sagan said in his 1978 opinion piece, “The greatest human significance of science fiction may be as thought experiments, as attempts to minimize future shock, as contemplations of alternative destinies.”
Speculative fiction invites people to imagine how an innovation or scientific advance fits into a broader social context. “So not just thinking of this in the abstract or as a blueprint or something that exists in a lab,” Finn added. Instead, introducing the technology into a fictional world and exploring how it plays out. Who owns the technology? Is it accessible to all? What happens if it breaks? The questions are endless. Finn calls this speculative specificity. “Every time you imagine a new object in the world, you engage in this speculative fiction work, you're doing a little bit of world building. And that object has consequences. It interacts with other things that exist in the world.”
The stories that emerge from these thought experiments can depict a moral ambiguity that reflects how technologies in the hands of some can fuel a dystopian nightmare, while in the hands of others can advance protopian ideals of pursuing a better future. Thinking about these different worlds, “That's a different level of research,” said Austin. It’s personal, cultural, historical, and political—all the things that coexist with science and technology.
Finn thinks that more scientists should engage in the broader stakes of what they’re researching, including exploration of the social ramifications of a technology they are pursuing, and play them out not just in one future but many possible futures. “That's hugely helpful because it lets us have a more nuanced and inclusive conversation about which future we should be aiming for,” said Finn.
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Blasting Off Towards a Hopeful Future
“A society tells the stories that are an indirect reflection of the things they value,” according to Pohl.
For many cultures, dystopian stories offer a compelling narrative—intergalactic federations fighting over resources, or artificial intelligence taking control of earth. While there is a place for these stories and the themes they explore, Pohl said, “Don't forget the hope-based stories,” as they can help counteract the constant diet of doom-and-gloom stories. “If one is looking to shape policy or influence public sentiment or innovate one society's perceptions of technologies, hope is actually more valuable and important,” Pohl added.
As Lady Jessica Atraides said to her son Paul in Frank Herbert’s Dune, “Fear is the mind-killer.” A hopeful society is an energized and engaged society.
Underwater photo of a greenish blue circular orb nestled between red and white coral.
On a dive off Raja Ampat, Indonesia, Pohl encountered a mysterious sphere covered in marine growth and nestled amidst the coral. Could it be a glass float with a broken seal, a large sea grape, or maybe a drowned palantir?
John Pohl
“We need new stories, because a lot of people see these technologies, these advances, and they only see the cautionary tale,” said Finn, particularly emphasizing the need for more stories set in the near future.
Many classic science fiction stories take place hundreds or even thousands of years in the future. While their themes remain relevant to contemporary issues, the distant timelines create a sense of abstraction, making the challenges feel like concerns for a far-off future rather than pressing matters for the years and decades ahead.
“The decisions we're making today are going to impact people 20, 30, 40 years in the future, and we have much more agency to shape that world than anyone has to do anything about what things will be like 1,000 years from now,” said Finn.
“We're collectively not very good at talking about and imagining or trying to design that future, and we need to get a lot better at it. I think there's actually a moral responsibility to do that,” said Finn. He said that science is one of the few domains where optimism is a common practice. “Being a scientist is a fundamentally optimistic practice, but our broader cultural conversations about the future are much more likely to be grounded in skepticism and cynicism.”
Scientists can be hesitant to wade too far into speculation, and for a good reason. Overstating the impact of a new discovery offers false hope and could damage public understanding of science. But there is still a space, and even a need, for speculation. Science does not exist in a vacuum and a healthy dose of speculation can inspire new ideas and applications.
“So much of our professionalization in all of the different academic disciplines and also in culture more broadly really is about sort of specialization and skepticism and cynicism, you know, and like staying in your lane and thinking incrementally,” said Finn.
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At the Center for Science and the Imagination at ASU, Finn and his colleagues bring together creative writers and artists with scientists to collaboratively imagine aspirational futures that are grounded in science and technology. Often centered on the near future, these stories begin with a prompt, such as the potential of solar energy in the American Southwest, and teams collaborate to develop narratives that explore the topic from multiple angles.
“One piece of feedback that we continue to get is, I think people find the basic idea of hope and having an optimistic relationship towards the future to be a big breath of fresh air,” said Finn.
The beauty of writing is that anyone can participate. While we won’t all be the next Issac Asimov or Octavia Butler, the act of writing is a valuable and rewarding endeavor in-and-of itself.
“It's a tremendous amount of fun,” said Pohl. “At some point, you give yourself permission to fail, and you just run with your ideas and jigsaw puzzle them together until you find your craft.”
The bridge between the scientific and the fantastical may be short or expansive, direct or windy, but it's filled with endless opportunities to explore and there is space for everyone. “We can't just leave it up to a tiny fraction of the world, the billionaires of the world, to imagine the future for everybody,” said Finn. “We need many more people to feel empowered and invited to imagine their futures, to navigate the many challenges of the 21st century.”
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