|This false-color composite image, taken at a region of the rock outcrop dubbed "Shoemaker's Patio" near the MER Opportunity's landing site, shows finely layered sediments, which have been accentuated by erosion. The sphere-like grains or "blueberries" distributed throughout the outcrop can be seen lining up with individual layers. This observation indicates that the spherules are geologic features called concretions, which form in pre-existing wet sediments. This image was captured by the rover's panoramic camera on the 50th martian day, or sol, of the mission.
Image Credit: NASA/JPL
Astrobiologists who study weird life often report from exotic locales, but those of us who study distant planets don't get to make field trips. Yet we don't always stay in the lab, glued to our computers. Sometimes we gather at conferences to hobnob with colleagues, trumpet our latest findings, and start new friendships and collaborations.
In September I participated in "Pale Blue Dot III: Searching for Life on Distant Words" at Chicago's Adler Planetarium. The other two Pale Blue Dot workshops were held in 1996 and 1999, both at NASA Ames Research Center. It is striking how much the world, and the worlds, have changed since then. Over 200 extrasolar planets have been discovered, and the Mars Exploration Rovers have shown evidence of surface water on another planet.
Billed as "a workshop engaging scientists, the media, and the public in the search for extraterrestrial habitable planets", it was an unusual get-together, even by astrobiology standards. The workshop web site made it sound like two separate meetings - one about astrobiology and one about science communication -- grafted together in the hopes of producing a new symbiotic hybrid.
The sessions each featured three scientific talks, and then a "media respondent" would present a journalist's perspective. Afterwards there would be a panel discussion, with the scientists and the media respondent fielding questions from the audience.
Nobody seemed to know what a "media respondent" was supposed to do. Because of this confusion, the role was interpreted in different ways. Some used the time to respond to the scientific talks they had just heard, and offer a journalist's perspective on the subject matter or on the language and communication skills of the scientists. Others ignored the science presented in the sessions, and instead gave talks about how journalists work, how science media is changing, or how we might package our science into "stories" to better reach the public.
For example, at the end of a session on "Understanding the Distribution of Life in the Universe," Michael Lemonick of Time Magazine said there has been a "dumbing down" of science. Magazines are competing for the eyeballs of a public with an ever-decreasing attention span, and as a result the average length of a Time science story has become much shorter over the last decade.
|Cassini's powerful radar eyes have uncovered a geologic goldmine in a region called Xanadu on Saturn's moon Titan. The geologic features include river channels, mountains and hills, a crater and possible lakes.
In explaining which scientific developments will, or will not, become a story, Lemonick stressed that they must seem new. The Mars Exploration Rovers, he said, will never again be a big story in Time, no matter what new wonders they discover, because the story has already been done. This elicited groans from the audience. His presentation made me realize there are huge filters on what news gets out to the public, and made me appreciate that, fortunately, we do science for purposes other than generating stories in Time Magazine.
Lemonick's presentation contrasted with that of Leonard David, a reporter for the web-based Space.com, who said he loves to report on the details of scientific progress. I could see how this would contribute to the troubles of print magazines, as those seeking the deeper story will increasingly look to the web for science news. Online publications (including Astrobiology Magazine) are slowly sucking the eyeballs a