Donald Miller, in his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, considers what it would look like if we lived our lives believing that we are the character in a grand, exciting, adventurous story. When we frame our experiences within a greater picture, certain aspects of our lives begin to make sense and themes emerge.
Scientific research also relies on the elements of a story. Without an overarching story, observations remain disconnected and boring. But, when you can take a set of observations and pull out a common theme that can explain them, then you have a story.
When scientists talk with each other about their work, they constantly use phrases like: "you need to find a good story," "those observations make an interesting story," or "what is the story you are trying to tell?" During the story-writing process, the researcher tries to emphasize the novelty of, the intrigue in, and the relationships between various characters. She pieces together the clues to solve a mystery of the transiently expressed protein, or maybe she writes an eulogy for the cell death induced by a pro-apoptotic factor. Above all, an interesting scientific story takes the reader on a harrowing ride of twists and turns in the plot.
At the root of it, however, the search for a good story is a search for meaning and purpose. Like any story, a scientific story answers the who, what, where, when, and how, but the most important element to answer is the why. Why does this process happen? Why should we care about this phenomenon? Why do we need to study this?
Interestingly, as the scientist searches for the answers to "why" it becomes clear that she is not the author of the story she tells. She merely recounts the adventure that was written by somebody smarter and more clever than her. She is a detective, a journalist, or a biographer. Through her research, she delves into the annals of the creator.
Scientific research also relies on the elements of a story. Without an overarching story, observations remain disconnected and boring. But, when you can take a set of observations and pull out a common theme that can explain them, then you have a story.
When scientists talk with each other about their work, they constantly use phrases like: "you need to find a good story," "those observations make an interesting story," or "what is the story you are trying to tell?" During the story-writing process, the researcher tries to emphasize the novelty of, the intrigue in, and the relationships between various characters. She pieces together the clues to solve a mystery of the transiently expressed protein, or maybe she writes an eulogy for the cell death induced by a pro-apoptotic factor. Above all, an interesting scientific story takes the reader on a harrowing ride of twists and turns in the plot.
At the root of it, however, the search for a good story is a search for meaning and purpose. Like any story, a scientific story answers the who, what, where, when, and how, but the most important element to answer is the why. Why does this process happen? Why should we care about this phenomenon? Why do we need to study this?
Interestingly, as the scientist searches for the answers to "why" it becomes clear that she is not the author of the story she tells. She merely recounts the adventure that was written by somebody smarter and more clever than her. She is a detective, a journalist, or a biographer. Through her research, she delves into the annals of the creator.
