Triangle of the forced
Rooted firmly in its historical beginnings, there is a sense that the British Science Festival has lost some of this sense of fun. This year’s festival, held at Aston University in Birmingham, was packed with events and variety, but hidden away in austere lecture theatres beyond labyrinthine corridors. And should the British Science Association come to a decision between ‘science’ and ‘entertainment’, one feels that science would always win – however small the audience.
Meanwhile in Orkney, a bus tour that had very little to do with science drew in record crowds, who as well as sampling the produce at the local brewery, learnt a little – but not too much – about how it is made, as well as the history of milling and brewing on the island.
“We try to make the transition seamless” says Howie. “The success of the bus tour was that it mixed people up – festival speakers with members of the public who may have had a lot of their own knowledge about farming, so everyone has something to contribute – no one is being lectured. And we blend that with very cutting edge science in some of the talks, like gravitational waves and marine renewables. That way, there’s something for everyone”.
There was ‘something for everyone’ in Aston too – topics ranging from earthquakes to economics to chemical engineering; but it was almost too much, lacking clear focus. The nebulous “theme” given to each Festival did not help. Among the most successful geological events was the field trip, which took visitors out of the University to see how science was applied to real life – in this case, to the limestone mines that cut deep into the land beneath Castle Hill in Dudley. Other events were rooted firmly in the lecture theatres and labs of Aston – for the lay visitor, not a welcoming environment, no matter how many posters led the way. And with up to 60 events running each day, the range of offerings was at times overwhelming.
Here, historical pedigree can be a hindrance. Every year has to be bigger, broader and encompass the whole of a world which is rapidly expanding. While in 1831, a few meetings might have covered most cutting-edge research, it might take months, even years, to do the same now. A festival without such a heritage is free to be more selective.
“One thing we’re very emphatic about is quality’ says Howie. ‘I think a festival has a natural size, and it’s better to work within the discipline of a fixed budget and explore those parameters, rather than trying to grow for growth’s sake. It’s lovely to start with a blank sheet every year and put together an exciting programme. We believe that if there’s communication, particularly to young people, it’s more important to get it right than to have a huge amount – that’s why I’m so delighted that the Geological Society is developing workshops for young people and has come here to deliver them.
“One of the things we have to be careful about in communicating science is focusing not just on the known but on the unknown – the challenges. Just as we love detective stories or Sudoku problems, we want a challenge. It’s important that science looks at the horizons and beyond them”.
For a festival held on an island, this is a fitting motto. Like all island nations, the people of Orkney have learned to explore.
“Orkney is a crossroads – it was in the Neolithic, in the Norse period and later in two world wars, when the British Navy anchored here. This is an island community that has always looked outwards, whose people have always travelled distances and welcomed new ideas. So it does make sense to hold a festival of ideas and exploration here”.
Location is just one of the many lessons the Orkney science festival can teach the rest. Another might be that, if they are really to be fun they would do well to adopt a concept familiar to anyone working in the arts: edit, edit edit.