To Make Science Engaging, We Need a Sesame Street for Adults
This article is part of the magazine, "The Future of Science In America: The Election Issue," co-published by LeapsMag, the Aspen Institute Science & Society Program, and GOOD.
In the mid-1960s, a documentary producer in New York City wondered if the addictive jingles, clever visuals, slogans, and repetition of television ads—the ones that were captivating young children of the time—could be harnessed for good. Over the course of three months, she interviewed educators, psychologists, and artists, and the result was a bonanza of ideas.
Perhaps a new TV show could teach children letters and numbers in short animated sequences? Perhaps adults and children could read together with puppets providing comic relief and prompting interaction from the audience? And because it would be broadcast through a device already in almost every home, perhaps this show could reach across socioeconomic divides and close an early education gap?
Soon after Joan Ganz Cooney shared her landmark report, "The Potential Uses of Television in Preschool Education," in 1966, she was prototyping show ideas, attracting funding from The Carnegie Corporation, The Ford Foundation, and The Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and co-founding the Children's Television Workshop with psychologist Lloyd Morrisett. And then, on November 10, 1969, informal learning was transformed forever with the premiere of Sesame Street on public television.
For its first season, Sesame Street won three Emmy Awards and a Peabody Award. Its star, Big Bird, landed on the cover of Time Magazine, which called the show "TV's gift to children." Fifty years later, it's hard to imagine an approach to informal preschool learning that isn't Sesame Street.
And that approach can be boiled down to one word: Entertainment.
Despite decades of evidence from Sesame Street—one of the most studied television shows of all time—and more research from social science, psychology, and media communications, we haven't yet taken Ganz Cooney's concepts to heart in educating adults. Adults have news programs and documentaries and educational YouTube channels, but no Sesame Street. So why don't we? Here's how we can design a new kind of television to make science engaging and accessible for a public that is all too often intimidated by it.
We have to start from the realization that America is a nation of high-school graduates. By the end of high school, students have decided to abandon science because they think it's too difficult, and as a nation, we've made it acceptable for any one of us to say "I'm not good at science" and offload thinking to the ones who might be. So, is it surprising that a large number of Americans are likely to believe in conspiracy theories like the 25% that believe the release of COVID-19 was planned, the one in ten who believe the Moon landing was a hoax, or the 30–40% that think the condensation trails of planes are actually nefarious chemtrails? If we're meeting people where they are, the aim can't be to get the audience from an A to an A+, but from an F to a D, and without judgment of where they are starting from.
There's also a natural compulsion for a well-meaning educator to fill a literacy gap with a barrage of information, but this is what I call "factsplaining," and we know it doesn't work. And worse, it can backfire. In one study from 2014, parents were provided with factual information about vaccine safety, and it was the group that was already the most averse to vaccines that uniquely became even more averse.
Why? Our social identities and cognitive biases are stubborn gatekeepers when it comes to processing new information. We filter ideas through pre-existing beliefs—our values, our religions, our political ideologies. Incongruent ideas are rejected. Congruent ideas, no matter how absurd, are allowed through. We hear what we want to hear, and then our brains justify the input by creating narratives that preserve our identities. Even when we have all the facts, we can use them to support any worldview.
But social science has revealed many mechanisms for hijacking these processes through narrative storytelling, and this can form the foundation of a new kind of educational television.
Could new television series establish the baseline narratives for novel science like gene editing, quantum computing, or artificial intelligence?
As media creators, we can reject factsplaining and instead construct entertaining narratives that disrupt cognitive processes. Two-decade-old research tells us when people are immersed in entertaining fiction narratives, they loosen their defenses, opening a path for new information, editing attitudes, and inspiring new behavior. Where news about hot-button issues like climate change or vaccination might trigger resistance or a backfire effect, fiction can be crafted to be absorbing and, as a result, persuasive.
But the narratives can't be stuffed with information. They must be simplified. If this feels like the opposite of what an educator should be doing, it is possible to reduce the complexity of information, without oversimplification, through "exemplification," a framing device to tell the stories of individuals in specific circumstances that can speak to the greater issue without needing to explain it all. It's a technique you've seen used in biopics. The Discovery Channel true-crime miniseries Manhunt: Unabomber does many things well from a science storytelling perspective, including exemplifying the virtues of the scientific method through a character who argues for a new field of science, forensic linguistics, to catch one of the most notorious domestic terrorists in U.S. history.
We must also appeal to the audience's curiosity. We know curiosity is such a strong driver of human behavior that it can even counteract the biases put up by one's political ideology around subjects like climate change. If we treat science information like a product—and we should—advertising research tells us we can maximize curiosity though a Goldilocks effect. If the information is too complex, your show might as well be a PowerPoint presentation. If it's too simple, it's Sesame Street. There's a sweet spot for creating intrigue about new information when there's a moderate cognitive gap.
The science of "identification" tells us that the more the main character is endearing to a viewer, the more likely the viewer will adopt the character's worldview and journey of change. This insight further provides incentives to craft characters reflective of our audiences. If we accept our biases for what they are, we can understand why the messenger becomes more important than the message, because, without an appropriate messenger, the message becomes faint and ineffective. And research confirms that the stereotype-busting doctor-skeptic Dana Scully of The X-Files, a popular science-fiction series, was an inspiration for a generation of women who pursued science careers.
With these directions, we can start making a new kind of television. But is television itself still the right delivery medium? Americans do spend six hours per day—a quarter of their lives—watching video. And even with the rise of social media and apps, science-themed television shows remain popular, with four out of five adults reporting that they watch shows about science at least sometimes. CBS's The Big Bang Theory was the most-watched show on television in the 2017–2018 season, and Cartoon Network's Rick & Morty is the most popular comedy series among millennials. And medical and forensic dramas continue to be broadcast staples. So yes, it's as true today as it was in the 1980s when George Gerbner, the "cultivation theory" researcher who studied the long-term impacts of television images, wrote, "a single episode on primetime television can reach more people than all science and technology promotional efforts put together."
We know from cultivation theory that media images can shape our views of scientists. Quick, picture a scientist! Was it an old, white man with wild hair in a lab coat? If most Americans don't encounter research science firsthand, it's media that dictates how we perceive science and scientists. Characters like Sheldon Cooper and Rick Sanchez become the model. But we can correct that by representing professionals more accurately on-screen and writing characters more like Dana Scully.
Could new television series establish the baseline narratives for novel science like gene editing, quantum computing, or artificial intelligence? Or could new series counter the misinfodemics surrounding COVID-19 and vaccines through more compelling, corrective narratives? Social science has given us a blueprint suggesting they could. Binge-watching a show like the surreal NBC sitcom The Good Place doesn't replace a Ph.D. in philosophy, but its use of humor plants the seed of continued interest in a new subject. The goal of persuasive entertainment isn't to replace formal education, but it can inspire, shift attitudes, increase confidence in the knowledge of complex issues, and otherwise prime viewers for continued learning.
[Editor's Note: To read other articles in this special magazine issue, visit the beautifully designed e-reader version.]
Vaccines are one of the greatest public health accomplishments of all time. For centuries, public health has relied on vaccinations to prevent and control disease outbreaks for a plethora of infectious scourges, with our crowning achievement being the successful eradication of smallpox.
The purpose of vaccine documentation is to provide proof of an individual's protection from either becoming infected or transmitting a vaccine-preventable disease. Vouching for these protections requires a firm knowledge about the epidemiology of the disease, as well as scientific knowledge concerning the efficacy of the vaccine. The vaccines we currently require be documented have met these tests; the vaccine for COVID-19 has not yet been proven to do so.
Let's acknowledge that the term "vaccine passport" is a poor choice of words. Passports are a legal travel document created by nations and governed by law for identification of the bearer to control entry and exit from nation states. They often serve as legal forms of identification and as a record of international travel. They are generally very sophisticated documents that have been created in a secure manner and may include a range of electronic and, in some cases, biometric measures such as fingerprints to ensure the holder is indeed who they say they are. Vaccine passports are medical documents used to document the vaccination status of an individual. They do not undergo the same level of administrative scrutiny and cannot be used to verify that the presenter is indeed the vaccinated individual. Some companies do have electronic methods to address concerns about verification; however, most people currently have paper records that can be easily falsified.
"Vaccine passports" as currently proposed risk giving people a false sense of security.
Successful disease control from vaccination programs relies on the ability to vaccinate at a level that prevents large-scale disease spread and the ability to rapidly identify the presence of disease outbreaks. It requires reliable, safe, and effective vaccines that are easily delivered in clinical and nonclinical settings. Keeping vaccination information as a part of the medical record, and even having a separate specialized vaccine record for personal use, is a time-honored tradition.
Keeping a vaccination record provides a method to keep track of the many shots one receives and serves as a visual reminder to help ensure the appropriate vaccine shot schedule is maintained for vaccines requiring multiple doses. The vaccine record, when combined with vaccine safety monitoring systems, serves as a mechanism to track adverse events to monitor and ensure the safety of vaccines as a consumer product. The record also serves as the official record of vaccination when required for administrative or legally prescribed purposes.
"Vaccine passports" as currently proposed risk giving people a false sense of security. In the case of the COVID-19 vaccines currently approved for use, many of the essential questions remain unanswered. While we do know the current three vaccines are highly protective against severe disease and death, and there is some evidence that these vaccinations do reduce infections and virus transmission of SARS-CoV-2, we do not yet know the full degree to which this occurs.
For example, we know there have been some cases of people that have been infected in close proximity to getting their full vaccination and rare cases of breakthrough reinfections. A breakthrough infection in a restaurant is a challenge for contact tracing, but an outbreak from a movie theater exposure or a baseball game could spark a major outbreak at our current level of vaccination. Current CDC guidance recommends continued mask wearing in order to address these concerns.
We also do not yet know how long the protections will last and if or when a booster or revaccination is required. In effect, it is too soon to know. Should an annual booster shot be required, then a vaccine passport would require annual updating, a process more frequent than renewal of a driver's license.
We also know that the current SARS-CoV-2 virus is mutating briskly. While the current approved vaccines have remained effective overall, there is evidence of some degree of degradation in vaccine effectiveness against some of the circulating strains. We also have sparse data on many of the other emerging strains of concern because we have not had the surveillance capacity in the U.S. to gain an adequate sense of how the virus is changing to fully align vaccine effectiveness with viral capabilities.
The risk of people misusing these "passports" is troubling. The potential for using these documents for hiring, firing or job limitation is a serious concern. Unvaccinated workers are at risk of this form of discrimination even from well-meaning employers or supervisors. Health insurers are prohibited by the Affordable Care Act from discriminating based on preexisting conditions, but they could probably charge a higher premium for unvaccinated individuals. There also is a risk of stigmatizing individuals who are not vaccinated or have left their vaccine documentation at home. Another concern: the opportunity to discriminate based on race, gender, sexual orientation, or religion, using one's vaccination status as an excuse.
These "passports" are being discussed as a "ticket verification" for entry to many activities, including dining at restaurants, flying domestically and/or internationally, going to movie theaters and sporting events, etc. These are all activities we already are doing at reduced levels and for which wearing a mask, hand hygiene and physical distancing are effective disease control practices. COVID-19 vaccines are indeed the measure that will make the ability to totally reopen our society complete, but we are not there yet. Documentation of one's COVID-19 vaccine status may be useful in selected situations in the future. That remains to be seen.
Finally, inadequate vaccine supply and disparities in vaccine delivery have created enormous challenges in providing equal access to vaccination. Also, the amount of misinformation, disinformation, and lingering vaccine hesitancy continue to limit the speed at which we will reach the level of vaccination of the population that would make this documentation meaningful. The requirement for "vaccine passports" is already alienating people who are opposed to vaccinations for a variety of reasons, paradoxically risking reduced vaccine uptake. This politicization of the vaccination effort is of concern. There are indeed people who, due to medical contraindications or legal exemptions, will not be vaccinated, and we do not yet have a national framework on how to address this.
Vaccine passports are not the solution for reopening our society — a robust vaccination program is. The requirement to document one's vaccination status for COVID-19 may one day have its place. For now, it is an idea whose time has not yet come.
Editor's Note: This op/ed is part of a "Big Question" series on the ethics of vaccine passports. Read the flip side argument here.
"Vaccine passports" are a system that requires proof of a COVID-19 vaccination as a condition of engaging in activities that pose a risk of transmitted SARS-CoV-2. Digital Health Passes (DHPs) are typically a smartphone application with a code that verifies whether someone has been vaccinated.
Vaccine passports could very much be in our future. Many businesses are implementing or planning to require proof of vaccination as a condition of returning to the workplace. Colleges and universities have announced vaccine requirements for students, staff, and faculty. It may not be long before the private sector requires a vaccination card or image to attend an entertainment or sporting event, to travel, or even to dine or shop indoors, at least in some venues.
But it's unlikely the federal government or the states will launch DHPs, at least not in the near-term. President Biden announced the White House has no intention of requiring proof of vaccination. While no state has mandated DHPs, New York is piloting its Excelsior Pass on a voluntary basis, partnering with IBM. Other nations are not so hesitant. Israel's "Green Pass" has gotten the nation back to normal in record time. And various countries and regions are planning DHPs, including the European Union and the United Kingdom. Foreign airlines are likely to require proof of vaccination as a condition of flying internationally.
DHPs could emerge as a way to get us back to normal more quickly, but are they ethical? Let's start with the law. The US Equal Opportunity Commission (EEOC) has specifically said that employers have the legal right to require proof of vaccination as a condition of returning to work. Colleges and universities already require several vaccines for students living in dorms. Hospitals and nursing homes often mandate influenza vaccinations. And, of course, all states require childhood vaccinations for school attendance. Vaccine passports are lawful but are they ethical? The short answer is "yes" but only if we ensure no one is left behind.
Vaccine passports "don't force anyone to be vaccinated against his or her will. They simply say to individuals that if you choose not to be vaccinated, you can't work or recreate in public spaces that risk transmission of the virus."
Why are vaccine passports ethical? Vaccines are a miracle of modern science, but they have become a political symbol, and a significant part of the population doesn't want to get a jab. The rare cases of blood clots associated with the Johnson & Johnson and AstraZeneca vaccines have only created more distrust.
Most opposition to vaccine passports hinges on the claim that they infringe personal autonomy and liberty. But this argument misses the point. Of course, every competent adult has the right to make decisions that affect his or her own health and safety. But no one has a right to infringe on the rights of others, such as by exposing them to a potentially serious or deadly infectious disease. An individual can't claim the right to attend a crowded event mask-less and unvaccinated. This was once accepted across the political spectrum. Conservative economists called it an "externality," that is a person has no right to harm others. The U.S. has lost the tradition of the common good. We have become so focused on our own individual rights that we forget about our ethical obligations to our neighbors and to our community.
In fact, DHPs actually don't force anyone to be vaccinated against his or her will. They simply say to individuals that if you choose not to be vaccinated, you can't work or recreate in public spaces that risk transmission of the virus.
DHPs also don't infringe on privacy. Again, everyone has the choice whether to show proof of vaccination. It isn't required. Moreover, DHPs may actually protect privacy because all they do is show whether or not you have been vaccinated. They don't disclose any other personal medical information. All of us actually have already had to show proof of vaccination as a condition of going to school. Thus, DHPs are well established in the United States.
But there is one ethical argument against DHPs that I find to be powerful, and that is equity. If we require proof of vaccination while doses are scarce, we will give the already privileged even more privilege. And that would be unconscionable. Thus, DHPs should not be implemented until everyone who wants a vaccine is able to get a vaccine. Equity isn't a side issue. It needs to be front and center.
As of today, all adults in the U.S. are eligible to get vaccinated, and President Biden has pledged that by the end of May there will be enough doses to vaccinate the entire U.S. population. It is a realistic promise. Once vaccines become plentiful, everyone should get their shot. All Food and Drug Administration authorized vaccines are highly safe and effective, even the Johnson & Johnson vaccine that the FDA has just put on pause.
Businesses have an economic incentive to require proof of vaccination. Very few of us would feel comfortable returning to our jobs, shops, theaters, or restaurants unless we feel safe. Businesses understand the duty to create safer places for work, recreation, and commerce.
One question has dominated national conversation since the pandemic began. "When will we get back to normal?" There is a deep human yearning to hug family and friends, see our work colleagues, recreate, and be entertained. One day we will have defeated this wily virus and get back to normal. But vaccine passports can help us get back to the things we love faster and more safely. As long as we don't leave anyone behind, using this miracle of modern science to make our lives better is both lawful and ethical.
Editor's Note: This op/ed is part of a "Big Question" series on the ethics of vaccine passports. Read the flip-side argument here.