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| Glaxo Wellcome ABSW
Science Writers' Awards 2000 |
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| Peter Wrobel reports on the judging of the GlaxoSmithKline ABSW Science Writers Awards 2000 |
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Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome
On behalf of the Association of British Science Writers, I'm delighted to welcome you all here tonight – members of the ABSW, and also those of you who aren't members but should be.
My job tonight is to say a few words about the judging: how we reached our conclusions, what we thought -- but of course without saying who has won.
This year our judging had, to me, a novel aspect: it was a bit like déjà vu, only in reverse. We started our judging shortly after the publication of the sequence of the human genome in February -- only to find that we had a multitude of entries from 2000 dealing with the announcement of…the sequencing of the human genome. Both significant but understandably somewhat artificial events, and both stage managed with care, since the sequence itself was done some time in between. So anything written then has to stand up to the glare of hindsight -- and it is a tribute to science journalists in general that most of it stood up very well indeed.
But it was not all genomics. The year showed, too, how all the sciences retain their power to enthral global audiences with visions of where we came from, what we are, and where we might be heading. This is something we as science writers have in common with novelists: not that we invent our stories, but that what we write can also inspire thoughts and emotions and dreams, good dreams as well as bad ones.
Like novelists, we are increasingly becoming a subject of academic study. And in the past month we have had news about centres springing up in South Kensington and Albermarle Street dedicated (among other things) to investigating and perhaps moderating our role -- whatever our role may be.
I have mixed feelings about all this, partly because I instinctively disagree with many of the assumptions I hear voiced about how we work. I don't think that we hype stories -- at least, no more than scientists do themselves. I don't think that we concentrate on mavericks and ignore the scientific consensus -- in general, I think that there is more disagreement within science than ever appears in our stories, certainly no less. And we tend to get our facts right.
There is, though, plenty to discuss, and a dialogue can do only good (I think!). Just so long as no one ends up taking themselves too seriously. Certainly, I don't think that science journalists will ever do our jobs well if we go around thinking that our frail shoulders should bear responsibility for how the public view science.
But first I would like to say thank you to a few people.
First of all, to Sir Richard Sykes and GlaxoSmithKline for their continued support of these prizes for almost 40 years and several name changes. It really is most generous of you to sponsor the prizes themselves, let alone to wine and dine so many of us in such inspiring surroundings. I understand that this support is to continue next year as well, which is heartening news. Thank you.c
Secondly, my thanks to Barbie Drillsma at the ABSW, Neeta Sharma and Graeme Holland at GSK, for their organizational skill and diligence and support. I won't say that the prizes are a nightmare to administer, but they do require a high level of thought and care. And a special mention to Claire Jowett, not least for organizing this evening.
Thirdly, thanks to John Sulston for agreeing to entertain us after dinner. At least, I think he's going to entertain us -- perhaps you want to berate us, John! Just think of it as an extended right to reply.
And thanks, of course, to my fellow judges themselves: four people who won last year: Damian Carrington (web wizard), Steve Connor (sleuth extraordinaire), Oliver Morton (what a great hairdo!), and Helen Sewell (scourge of Armenia. They were joined by Mark Smith, currently a Senior Producer at the BBC (though they change their job titles with such frequency that I can't be sure), and by two scientists Monica Grady (space rocker at the Natural History Museum) and Robin Lovell-Badge, (a man who can sex a mouse with his eyes closed…and then change it). My heartfelt thanks for their hard work, patience and good humour. The judging was a pleasure -- hotly argued, but never rancorous.
For all of us, it means reading, listening to and viewing reports that were new to us, even if the subject matter was familiar -- and sometimes, I admit, it was rather unfamiliar.
What were we looking for? Something stylish, accurate, interesting, well researched, up-to-date, and, above all, arresting. That's quite a tall order. Much of what is well written can fail to grab you and pull you through to the end. I spent many years as Chief Sub at New Scientist working on the reasonable assumption that only a small fraction of readers ever read to the end of any given piece. Most give up at the first light touch of tedium, tempted by other stories, other headlines. The winners tonight not only pulled us through to the end, they asked to be read or played again.
Most of what we had to see was better than just good. The best -- the shortlist you have before you -- were outstanding. And the winners…well, quite simply they were a joy to read or play, though for different reasons. In some categories, we were comparing different media, so judging was particularly hard, and in one category, as you will see, it was so hard that we decided that the only way to compare two items was to make them both winners.
Another category, though, rather speaks for itself: the Web. As you can see, there is no shortlist, and, by implication, no winner. We're sorry about this, but not apologetic. There was good writing among the entries, but not one of the examples of good writing used the richness of the Web to add to their tales. So we did not shortlist, and did not award a prize. It's a shame, because we think that there are plenty of good stories out there making good use of the Web, just that we didn't receive them. I hope I'm right about this, though I suspect that the Web tends to…not dumb down, that's not right, more like flatten down…too much universality, not enough individuality. Either way, the moral is: it's not enough to code it in HTML.
That's enough. Thanks for listening. Enjoy the evening. And let's see who has won. |
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