Why are Scientific Papers Important?
I think the first article here on Simpli Sci Gals should be more of an explanation of why we exist. Why we got involved in the page can be found in our About Us section, but I think a more important question you have to ask before all that is, why does something like SSG exist? If you read my (Me! The founder!) section, you'll know all about my struggle with getting a diagnosis for PCOS. But there’s a much wider issue at hand as well.
My friends and I turned 18 and spent the last of our teenage years, from 18 to 20, in lockdown during the COVID-19 pandemic.
I was in my final year of school at the time, and in Ireland, we take what’s called the Leaving Cert. A set of exams in June, that get corrected, and each grade represents a certain number of points, with your total amount of points ultimately determining the college course you get into. I always loved science and had my sights set on UCD, a biochemistry and molecular biology course that had a previous year's limit set at a whopping 521 points out of a possible 625.
The next day in school, we walked into history class, and our history teacher was pulling the RTÉ news up onto the projected screen we had in class. Leo Varadkar, Ireland's Taoiseach of the day, was in the States as part of St. Patrick's Day celebrations.
He had called a press conference, our history teacher explained, with him being over in the States, it must be important, so we might as well watch it and see what he says. I remember sitting there, with my bag on the ground, unopened, watching as the screen stuttered and loaded as my rural school's internet struggled.
Leo Varadkar appeared on the screen. It was dark over there, and the Irish flag behind him was creased and unironed, put up in a hurry. No sound, the stream stutters, then finally–
“--so, therefore, all schools, creches, colleges and cultural institutions will be closed from tomorrow. We must curb the spread of this virus to keep each other safe.”
He talked for a few more moments about unity and sticking together, and looking out for each other. I just felt numb. There was noise outside, either because the teachers had received a text, or were doing the same as we and had just watched what had happened. Our teacher looked at us, put his tablet down. It was one of our last classes of the day, so we didn't have much time left.
“Go get your stuff organised.” We organised ourselves remarkably well for a bunch of 17 and 18-year-olds who had just been told we were being given, at the time, a two-week school vacation. We sent someone to each class to collect copies, exam papers, and get instructions from our teachers. Our bags were fit to bursting. I remember pulling my phone out on the way to our lab class. My mam was in town, running messages.
Leos just announced all schools and creches are closed from tomorrow. Off for 2 weeks. What's town like?
Quiet.
I would never actually return to that classroom. Or that school. Two weeks turned into another two, and then it was two months, and then our exams got cancelled, and it was September and I was sitting in on an online seminar that would be my welcome ceremony to my dream course – held usually in the same hall where my graduation would happen 4 years later.
The pandemic fundamentally changed how science was viewed by the public - for better and worse. Science was thrust into the public eye like never before. Hopes rode on the finding of a vaccine or a cure –whichever came first. Phrases like cases, reproduction rates, PCR and later antigen tests became words flung around on news bulletins every night. Words people were expected to understand with very little background information. Scientific inquiry is inherently about disagreements, and is part of a healthy system of correction and revision in research, but with an unknowing public looking in for the first time, it seemed like in-fighting and like no one knew what they were doing. Conflicting headlines, different countries experiencing different variants at the same time, misinformation spreading faster than corrections ever could all thrust what was wrong with science communication in the present day into the harshest spotlight. People were confused, scared and mistrustful, not because they were stupid (although I have to admit I did come across some spectacular conspiracy theorists during the height of the pandemic), but because they were encountering a world they had never been granted access to before.
There’s a popular phrase in science communication that refers to this – scientists and their ivory tower. It’s a spectacular visual. An "ivory tower" refers to a state of privileged seclusion or disconnection from the practical realities of the world, and this perfectly sums up how most of the public will encounter modern scientific research. A distant thing, that produces many things we will use day to day, but ultimately inaccessible but for the privileged few who pursue it as a career. This inaccessibility only results in mistrust, confusion and conspiracy when we are thrust into a pandemic that we are told, only science and research can get us out of.
What the pandemic laid bare, at least for me, was that the problem wasn’t a lack of intelligence or curiosity among the public, it was a lack of translation. Science wasn’t failing because it was wrong; it was failing because it was being spoken in a language most people had never been taught to understand. Years of technical training, jargon, caveats and cautious phrasing were suddenly being condensed into headlines, soundbites and tweets, stripped of nuance and context. And when people couldn’t follow the reasoning, they filled in the gaps themselves. That gap between what science knows and what people can realistically access – is exactly where Simpli Sci Gals lives. We exist to pull science down from the ivory tower, sit with it at eye level, and say: this is complicated, yes, but it’s not off-limits. You’re allowed to ask questions. You’re allowed not to know. And you deserve clear, honest explanations that don’t talk down to you or shut you out.
This is also why one of the core things we do at Simpli Sci Gals is break down scientific papers. Research papers are where new knowledge is actually born. Every guideline, medication, public health recommendation or scientific headline ultimately traces back to data published in peer-reviewed literature. But papers are not written for the public; they are written for other specialists. They assume familiarity with statistics, experimental design, and technical language that can make even highly educated readers feel lost.
By unpacking papers piece by piece, explaining what the researchers asked, how they tested it, what their results actually mean, and importantly, what they don’t mean,we aim to make the backbone of scientific progress accessible. Understanding how to read and question scientific research isn’t just about learning facts; it’s about learning how knowledge is built, challenged, and improved over time.
When people understand that process, they are better equipped to make informed decisions, recognise misinformation, and engage confidently with the scientific world that already shapes so much of their lives.
Stay Curious
-The Simpli Sci Gals Team x
Add comment
Comments