I love design, but choosing medical science as a career means that it is never going to be more than a hobby for me. Even so, I try to learn what I can and experiment when I have the time. I follow a lot of talented designers whose inspiring work stands in stark contrast to the “design” in the scientific world—most of which would, at best, cause a professional to experience gastrointestinal discomfort, and at worst could plunge them into a neverending dungeon of hopelessness.
When I say “science,” I’m not talking about the pharmaceutical or biotech companies with massive advertising budgets who hire professionals to do their print materials (although a lot of those aren’t that great either). I’m referring to the academic scientists and graduate students working off of NIH grants, who are just trying to share their research with others. Most researches only have basic skills in setting up presentations and posters—if the images aren’t overblown .jpgs and the font’s not Comic Sans, you’re pretty much a success (it’s maddening how often this happens).
Of course, the goal is to get the information out there as quickly and clearly as possible. Faced with the choice between learning how to use something other than Powerpoint to create figures or lay out a poster and doing more work in the lab, a scientist is going to choose the lab. You can’t really blame them for doing what they’re trained (and paid) to do.
At the same time, my designer friends know all too well that good work can be eclipsed by bad presentation. In a world all but devoid of design ability, having a professional-quality look can make what I do stand out and get noticed. For a new researcher trying to break into the scientific world, as all graduate students are, getting noticed is a big deal—especially if the research you’re doing is solid.
Too often, I find myself having to make the choice between creating something that conveys information in an aesthetically pleasing and professional manner and just knocking it out for the presentation tomorrow. That’s how you end up with something like this:
That might work well enough for class assignments or lab meetings, but as I begin building my name as a medical scientist, I want things to look sharp. I’m nowhere near as knowledgeable or competent as my friends, but I’d like to build some kind of a framework that I can use for my posters and presentations, modifying it for new data or different venues. It’s going to mean breaking down and learning how to use programs like InDesign at some point, but ultimately I think it will be worth it. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve found a lab where the boss defaults to Illustrator, not Powerpoint, for generating his figures.
I also want to try and highlight some of the mistakes and challenges I encounter. I’ve made (and likely continue to make) many of them myself, and there aren’t always good solutions, but with any luck at least a few of my colleagues can learn from my experience. Here’s to the beautification of academic science—and the elimination of Comic Sans (Seriously, people, can we bury that font already?).
2 responses to “Design in Science”
You know what’s almost as bad as Comic Sans? Papyrus. Can we kill that one too.
Anyway, a good presentation does go a long way, as do good writing skills. I’ve been reading project proposals for work recently and the poorly written ones really stand out as being bad. It definitely makes me glad that my college had some emphasis on those skills, though most students just do the minimum to get by. I imagine it’s the same in most schools, and once people get out into the real world, they have less incentive to learn, it would seem.
Ugh, Papyrus. I had to sit through a whole presentation in that a few weeks ago.
I’m glad I have at least basic skills in these areas, but it would be nice to stand out as being good, rather than just not standing out for being bad.