Geoscientist 22.2 March 2012
The party is going nicely. Then an innocent asks: “So what do you do?” The reply induces mild panic. “Geologist - ah yes - family trees and stuff?”. Most geologists have stories like this, which remind them just how peripheral their science appears to be in most people’s lives. Yet such lack of familiarity ought to come as no surprise. ‘Most people’ last visited science in school, decades ago, when along with some physics, chemistry and biology they may have enjoyed glimpses of plate tectonics (or endured the rock cycle) in geography classes. Even if they did geology at university, they would find it hard to recognise modern Earth system science - a holistic fusion of scientific inquiries targeted at a dynamic planet whose history is not simply ongoing, but evolving at a quickening pace. As environmental thinker Thomas Berry notes: ‘The planet that ruled itself directly over these past millennia is now determining its future largely through human decision...’. Never has geoscience been more critical to people’s lives.
But do ‘most people’ know that? Probably not. The brave new world of Earth science is a bewildering place. Familiar rocks and fossils have been augmented by isotope excursion curves and seismic tomography to reveal how our planet works. Such intricacies may make for hard going at informal social gatherings; yet for me, despite the complexity, modern Earth science is ripe for public consumption. Ironically, this ripeness stems less from ‘pressing social relevance’ than from an inherent sense of narrative.
TELEVISION
In mass popular culture (television!), the flourishing areas of science are not the reductionist, experimental ones but the ‘historical sciences’ - cosmology, geology, palaeontology and archaeology. For at the heart of all these lies a compelling narrative of Homeric proportions. Geology’s backdrop remains one of epic tales of lost worlds and clashing continents stretching across unfathomable time. And centre stage is the revelation that society itself is now a formidable geological force capable of imposing change at a planetary scale. Humans are now part of the geological story.
The lesson from ‘the box’ is that to get our message across, we geoscientists need to gift wrap it in wonder. The vital importance of metals is interesting, but the fact that most of the world’s iron originated in a burst of oxygenation two and a half billion years ago is fascinating. The importance of coal is interesting; but that Carboniferous rocks reveal a world with an oxygen-rich atmosphere that fuelled giant insects and global fires is captivating. Triassic salt mines are interesting when icy roads need gritting, but entrancing when seen as relics of a time when shallow seas dried across a parched supercontinent. Dull gravel pits become amazing as the melted remnants of once kilometre-thick ice sheets.
The industrial geology that employs so many geoscientists and underpins our economy may seem boring, but we must not forget that we do not mine rocks. We mine the planet’s past, replete with magic, wonder and awe.
*Prof. Iain Stewart (University of Plymouth) presented his latest series How to grow a planet on BBC television last month.