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If you say the word “influencer” to a group of late-career scientists, I’d be willing to bet that the resounding response would be dismissive. Content creation on social media conjures images of oversharing, selfies, falsely glamorous lives and consumerism. To many scientists, who consider themselves dedicated to objectivity and the study of the natural world, being an influencer is a laughable career choice. But to me, and a whole host of other science communicators, content creation on social media goes hand in hand with effective scientific outreach.
With social media now forming a core part of young people’s lives, short-form video content has proven to be an extremely effective method of science communication. On social media platforms, viral videos about science will regularly surpass one million views, and STEM content has become its own genre. There are a substantial number of accounts run by Black, Indigenous and other creators of color, as well as by creators from the LGBTQIA+ community, which provides much-needed representation in science. In sharing their day-to-day lives, these influencers shine a light on the academic ivory tower, building public trust in the scientific process.
However, influencing takes a huge amount of effort. There is a significant time commitment to conceptualizing, writing, filming and editing videos, without any guarantee of financial compensation. Many scientists would rightly ask: What’s in it for me?
For a long time, I held back from social media outreach because of that exact question. I saw it as a noble pursuit, but the time investment would detract from my goal of a career in academia, where publications are the fundamental currency. In the end, it took a series of disappointments for me to start my geology-focused account in late 2023. I was struggling with my Ph.D. research, having faced many minor setbacks as well as funding rejection. Both my research and my DEI work felt like a marathon, with endless bureaucratic hurdles and no clear end in sight. So out of a feeling of frustration and a lack of motivation for my Ph.D. program, I started a social media account. I made my peace with the time sacrificed, as I argued that it was a tactical choice: I would develop skills that are unrelated to academia, as I was no longer certain that a university-based research career was for me. To my surprise, I found that the skills I developed from content creation have vastly improved my scientific research abilities and renewed my passion for science.
Trial and Error
Success on social media took a huge amount of trial and error. When I first started making videos, I was so absorbed in my academic world that I was unable to recognize what was jargon and what wasn’t. I would pepper my videos with the names of highly specific rock types, and then, on the flip side, overexplain commonly used words like “peninsula.” My videos were full of the notorious “millennial pause” as I failed to edit out the breaths I took before each sentence.
Over time, and with guidance from some fantastic veteran science communicators, I learned how to be effective with my short-form videos. The trick, I’ve found, is accuracy without precision. It is impossible to include all the nuance of a scientific story in a one-minute video. You must pick the main story and make sure what you’re communicating is accurate, without conveying the small details. These details may be fantastically interesting to a tenured professor in your field, but as soon as your message diverges from a simple story, your target audience will be swiping up to their next dopamine hit.
As I continued to make videos, my script writing became faster and faster. I found myself able to read a paper and very quickly cut down to the essence of the arguments, finding what makes them interesting to someone at a high school science level. This ability, to home in on the key implications of a scientific study, has been instrumental in improving my own research.
From Niche Expertise to Wide Impact
A Ph.D. is a lesson in narrowing. I study reefs predating the evolution of animals, and before starting my social media account it was easy to believe that in keeping up with a range of literature related to my field, I was maintaining a broad research expertise: I’m not just a Precambrian sedimentologist—I know about Precambrian plate tectonics, too! It was only once I started making videos that I realized how niche my knowledge had become. I wasn’t thinking about why my work mattered to anyone outside of the small research world I was entering.
Nowadays, I bring my social media skills to my work life. I constantly think about my research through a marketing lens. Throughout the research process, from conception to final edits, I consider how to present my work in a way that grabs the attention of a nonscientist. This skill has been instrumental to writing grants and abstracts, which require you to promote the value and impact of your work within a very small word count.
Furthermore, the generalized videos I make force me to broaden my knowledge. On paper, I am an expert in geology, but the unfortunate truth is that it’s been more than five years since I learned about certain core topics in an undergraduate degree. To explain concepts in my videos, I have to go back to basics on all the subdisciplines to make sure I’m conveying accurate information. This has been a huge advantage to my teaching skills. Last summer, I co-taught a field course for the first time. I was shocked at how much of the information I was using derived from basic concepts I had read about during content creation. When you first arrive at a stop the students have never seen before, the kind of basic overview they want is similar to the overviews needed in short-form video content.
How to Start
So how do you approach the jungle of social media? Firstly, when you first start posting videos, don’t hesitate to reach out to existing content creators in your field, particularly those who are nonprofessional. Building a community will be a huge asset as you learn the tricks of the trade in fast-paced science communication.
When designing content and writing scripts, it helps to have an idea of a specific person you want to reach. While filming a documentary with the BBC, I was told to imagine I was talking to an intelligent 12-year-old, because it’s much more natural to speak to a specific person, rather than the “general public.” With my personal content, I imagine I’m speaking to a 16- to 18-year-old, one who is thinking about their university options. This person is interested in science, but not necessarily in geology (yet!). There are endless options for target audiences, so pick one that best suits you.
Don’t feel pressured to spend a huge amount of time on social media for inspiration. If you want to pivot into influencing as a full-time career, viral videos are important to amass followers and therefore a salary. But if you just want to make a difference and contribute to a better public understanding of science, you don’t have to dance online or try to capitalize on viral trends. You can stick to the type of content you’re interested in, and over time you will learn to refine it.
Set your boundaries. Personally, I use an external video-editing software and only download social media apps when my videos are ready to be posted. This does mean I miss out on viral trends and engagement through stories, but I consider it to be worth it to maintain a healthy offline social life.
More than anything, continue to assess what social media brings to your life. Increased visibility certainly has its share of drawbacks: For example, creepy comments and messages from men are a universal experience for women scientists online. Many of us also find it exhausting and depressing to spend time on social media during scary and polarizing political times.
However, if science communication on social media is something you have been considering, there are a myriad of benefits. You get an improved, more broad-based understanding of science, which I had increasingly neglected in my academic career. You find yourself developing critical skills for understanding the context of scientific work. Successful videos take off quickly, meaning the trial-and-error learning process is much quicker than in traditional forms of outreach. In addition, I’ve found the community of science communicators to be incredibly supportive, offering advice, feedback and promotion. Ultimately, what’s in it for you is a renewed passion for science, and a deeper understanding of what makes our work impactful and noteworthy beyond the ivory tower.
