When you think about conservation communication, you might picture the finished product: a social media post, a zookeeper talk, a campaign about an endangered species, or you might not even know what conservation communication is. What gets even less attention is what happens before any communication takes place: how organizations understand and value communication as a tool for conservation. In my Masters in Research (MRes), that is exactly what I’ve set out to uncover.
What Is Conservation Communication?
One of the first challenges I faced when diving into science communication literature was how loosely the term “conservation communication” is used or not used. Biodiversity, wildlife, environmental, the terminology shifts constantly, and that inconsistency makes focused research difficult.
For the purposes of my research, I’ve settled on this definition: “A process by which information about the conservation of the Earth’s natural environment and its wild inhabitants is exchanged between conservation communicators and the public.” It might sound straightforward, but unpacking this term reveals a lot. It’s not just about what organizations say, it’s about the processes, platforms and people involved, and the intended outcome of those exchanges.
Why Zoos? Why Now?
Zoos occupy an unusual space in the science communication landscape. Originally established as entertainment and recreational centers, zoos in the United Kingdom have gone through a dramatic transformation over the last century. Legislation, particularly the Standards of Modern Zoo Practice for Great Britain, has formalized conservation and public education as core obligations for zoos in the UK, not optional add-ons. Today, UK zoos sit at a powerful intersection of conservation science, public engagement, and entertainment.
That positioning at the nexus between research, communication and publics is exactly what makes them a great subject for research. As a science communication professional, I wanted to understand how they connect these groups together. After all, Zoos are one of the few places where millions of people have direct encounters with wildlife and conservation projects every year: they can reach audiences that academic papers and conservation campaigns often don’t. I wanted to understand how they use their position to share research and conservation messaging with the public, how do they think about conservation communication internally?
The Research: What I’m Exploring
I’ve been fortunate to have Bristol Zoological Society, the charitable organization behind the Bristol Zoo Project and Bristol Zoo Gardens, as a partner for my research. BZS runs conservation field projects around the world, has over 30,000 Instagram followers, and operates a well-established communications team. The BZA is a rich organization to study and having them as a partner has facilitated access to a wide range of documents and staff, ensuring that my research is built on a solid case study.
The case study is built around three core questions, which I think of as the Why, the Who, and the What of conservation communication at BZS.
Why does BZS believe engaging the public is important, and how is conservation communication understood at an organizational level? Is it embedded in their mission? Is there a shared internal understanding of the purpose of communication?
Who is involved in the creation and delivery of conservation communication? Communications teams, social media managers, educators, conservation scientists, and leadership can all be part of the communication process, but how do these roles interact, and how are they structured within the organization?
What is BZS trying to achieve through its communication? How are target audiences identified? How is engagement tracked? And do current strategies align with organizational conservation goals?
To answer these questions, I’m using two main methods: inductive and deductive document analysis of BZS’s internal and external documents, including strategy documents, conservation policies, and education frameworks, and semi-structured interviews with key communications and leadership personnel.
What Makes This Research Matter
A key finding in conservation communication literature is the necessity for science communicators to move away from the deficit model. This model focuses on the idea that the public simply lacks scientific knowledge, and the job of communicators is to fill that gap in a one-directional flow. Research has consistently shown that this approach is not effective. Public mistrust of scientific messaging often stems not from a lack of knowledge, but from the style and framing of communication itself.
For zoos, this is especially relevant. They have the rare ability to move beyond one-directional messaging. A keeper talk, a live animal encounter, an interactive exhibit, these are all opportunities for a more participatory form of communication that most conservation organizations cannot easily access. Understanding how BZS thinks about and deploys communications initiatives is, I think, very valuable for the wider field.
Where I’m At
I’m currently mid-project. Interviews with BZS personnel are underway and document analysis is well in progress. It’s already clear that the organizational view of conservation communication is a rich and underexplored area, particularly in zoos. I’m hoping this research helps make sense of the field and offers valuable insights for conservation communicators. If you’re interested in conservation, zoos, or the organizational perspective of science communication, I’d love to hear your thoughts, this project is very much a work in progress.
Brayden Bice, MRes student at UWE Bristol and Bristol Zoological Society.
Climate change is certainly not the easiest topic in science communication, as I have learned since I started practising this discipline. Communicators aiming to engage people about the climate crisis must address participants who are experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions. Anxiety, fear, anger, grief, plus an impending sense of doom. These same emotions are shared by communicators too. It is challenging to lift participants and ourselves out of this low mood and feel hopeful, empowered, and ready to act. Hard, but not impossible.
Serious games have been explored for years as a strategy to engage people in learning without the typical barriers of formal education. One example of a gamification approach in climate science communication is Climate Fresk: a 3-hour collaborative game based on the IPCC reports and created in France in 2015. Since then, the activity has spread to many countries, including the UK, with more than 2 million participants worldwide.
The activity is structured into four phases (reasoning, creativity, review, and debrief), using gamification to boost learning and empower the participants to embrace sustainable and climate-friendly practices. Participants are provided with cards on the causes and effects of climate change and must arrange them on a table in a cause-and-effect order. They are encouraged to be creative and acknowledge their emotions. After the game, they gather to share and discuss how to put what they felt and learned into practice.
The participants are not alone in this journey. They are guided and supported by facilitators (known as “freskers“), former participants who have undergone training to become part of the backbone community of Climate Fresk. There are currently more than 100,000 freskers worldwide, and they are generally not climate scientists themselves. Depending on their level of expertise, the facilitators run workshops in person and online across many settings (general public, schools, universities, businesses), either as volunteers or professionals.
Despite its solid structure and clear objectives, it is not straightforward to assess whether attending a CF workshop has an impact on the participants. The CF organisation also lacks a systematic way to assess its activities. This is when evaluation enters the chat. As part of my dissertation for the MSc Science Communication at UWE Bristol, Margarida Sardo and I planned to evaluate the impact of Climate Fresk on the knowledge, attitudes, and behaviours towards climate change of both participants and facilitators, by using a mix of qualitative and quantitative methods (observation, interview, and surveys).
We first focused on the participants of two workshops targeted at the general public. From our observation of the participants during the activity, they showed interest and engagement in the game and shared their emotions, which were generally quite low at some point. No need to despair though: after the game, participants discussed meaningful ways to contribute to climate action and sustainability, which also improved the overall mood. The topics they mentioned included both individual actions (changing diet, travelling sustainably, green investments) and collective action (political and economic engagement).
A few participants also agreed to be interviewed individually a week after the workshop. The aim was to obtain a first-hand account of how they experienced the activity and whether it affected them. The transcripts were analysed to identify common themes and patterns in the answers, based on the Generic Learning Outcomes. The results were mixed. The participants liked the activity and its collaborative nature, and also reported increased knowledge of climate change, especially the ability to see the bigger picture of the climate crisis. However, they also claimed the activity simply reinforced their previous beliefs about solutions to the climate crisis. They also felt their sense of agency on the matter did not change.
There are many potential reasons behind these contrasting results. All participants interviewed already had a high degree of climate awareness before attending the activity; in a sense, it was a bit like preaching to the choir. This self-selection produced a highly knowledgeable, already‑committed cohort of participants, reducing the potential for measurable change. Furthermore, it is unrealistic to expect a 3-hour activity to produce a lasting attitude and behavioural shift on such a complex issue. In this case, greater knowledge did not lead to greater empowerment, but that might not be true in settings with no participants self-selection.
Given the long-term impact of the activity on participants, we could not measure it after just a week, so Margarida and I designed a survey to engage the UK facilitators community, with both quantitative and qualitative questions about their facilitation experience, motivations to keep facilitating, what climate action they implemented as a result of CF, and the role of the organisation in their commitment to sustainability. Our goal was to assess whether CF can foster sustained action among that audience. It turns out it does, but indirectly.
Belonging is the game changer. Of the 38 respondents, around 90% reported that being part of the facilitators community was a source of inspiration and commitment to climate action and sustainability, including ethical banking investments, political activism, and systemic shifts in their professional work environments. Facilitating workshops also provided many freskers with a sense of purpose. However, some respondents aligned their answers with the deficit model (educating or informing the public) rather than a truly engaging approach (a two-way discussion between facilitators and participants).
Our findings suggest that climate communication initiatives may achieve their greatest impact not simply by increasing knowledge, but by creating spaces where people can reflect together, support one another, and sustain their commitment to action over time.
The CF organisation has come a long way in demonstrating the impact of serious games in climate change communication. To improve its outcomes, the activity should focus less on imparting knowledge and more on providing practical advice, offering ongoing support, and building a community centred on shared commitment and continuous learning. The climate crisis certainly seems a daunting challenge, but we can count on the friends we make along the way.
By Giorgio Graffino, MSc Science Communication graduate (2026) at UWE Bristol. Communicating about climate, weather, and the environment. Fighting the climate crisis one content at a time.
When I first heard the term “sabbatical student,” I pictured old-timey scholars taking long breaks to mull over grand ideas. Not that I took this image literally, but somehow this is what sprang to mind. In reality, I was lucky enough to hold this position for three months at UWE Bristol despite only being a master’s student.
Funnily enough, studying cognitive sciences in Croatia as part of my master’s programme, is exactly what led me to this opportunity in my hometown of Bristol. Through the Erasmus scheme, I was funded to undertake an internship of my own choosing. And fortunately, Professor Clare Wilkinson warmly accepted my request to join the Science Communication Unit (SCU) at the University of the West of England (UWE), allowing me to further explore my interests in science communication.
I wasn’t only attracted to science communication (SciComm) by my love of writing, I was also eager to explore what topics lay beyond this. I was especially curious to see how this experience would inform my own cognitive sciences research project.
First Encounters with SciComm
I came into this experience with a relatively blank slate in terms of science communication experience, but it didn’t take me long to realise that I had underestimated the breadth of this field. I was amazed by the varied SciComm approaches that the team were involved in, from teaching science through performing arts, to standup comedy, and even videogames like Minecraft.
It wasn’t just the variety of approaches that surprised me, it was also how much SciComm crosses different fields. I initially saw it as a means of making information more accessible, but it’s actually much more than that. It’s a rich, interdisciplinary field that connects areas such as the arts, humanities, and social sciences.
Getting to know the students on the MSc Science Communication programme at UWE reminded me just how flexible this field is. Suyi Tay a current student, is blending art and science and plans to share soil science in a future activity by transforming the sounds of soil samples into a live musical experience. Meanwhile, Ross Metcalfe, a further friend I made from the programme is exploring how research conducted by a charity might reach the public more effectively, by building a framework to improve that process, a fascinating example of how SciComm and society intersect.
Learning highlights
Me and a group of the 2025-26 Science Communication MSc students at UWE Bristol
Instead of just observing from the sidelines during the sabbatical, Clare encouraged me to actively explore and engage with SciComm in ways that matched my own interests. With this, I decided that I wanted to audit the Writing Science MSc module, which the senior lecturers Dr Andy Ridgway and Andrew Glester kindly approved.
One experience that particularly stood out to me on this module was the chance to interview a researcher and turn that conversation into a news article. I had the chance to interview Dr Amanda Webber, the MSc’s programme leader, who is also a senior lecturer and anthropologist. She was nothing short of captivating as she shared insights about the student learning experiences taking place in the forests of Madagascar. The process gave me valuable real-world practice, and with the article set to be published in the UWE Science Matters magazine, it’s a piece I can showcase to potential employers.
Another highlight from my sabbatical involved Suyi taking me along to the BCfm radio station, where she was presenting on a UWE led science show, Love & Science. She introduced me to the radio host George Edwards, who despite his multi-tasking, took the effort to explain how everything works as he went along.
I enjoyed listening to Suyi and George as they eagerly discussed a news article about ADHD diagnosis. The atmosphere felt like friends chatting in a pub, except that there were hundreds of people listening. This feeling of ease made me realise just how approachable these spaces are; they no longer seem distant and intimidating to me. George even offered me a chance to present on the show, which I hope to do after completing my masters.
My master’s thesis looks at how language is used in animal cognition research papers; specifically, how wording choices shape the claims that signal to readers.
Coming from a cognitive sciences background, I was already interested in how claims reflect the strength of the underlying evidence. For instance, a researcher might write, “These birds appear to remember locations for up to a week.” The word appear signals appropriate caution in a study which only tested a small number of birds under specific conditions.
But auditing the Science and Society module as part of the MSc programme pushed me to think beyond accuracy alone. I started to notice how claims also work on a social level, shaping how findings are received by readers and the wider scientific community.
For example, authors often write “the results indicate” rather than “I show.” This kind of impersonal phrasing creates distance between the researcher and the claim. It can make findings sound more objective and easier for the community to accept.
One of the most valuable outcomes of this sabbatical was being able to bring these perspectives together. I’m now approaching my thesis with a more rounded view of what scientific claims actually imply.
Presenting my thesis progress to the SCU team also played a big role in this. Although it was initially daunting, everyone was incredibly warm and supportive. Their enthusiastic response gave me a real confidence boost and made me feel part of a community where perfection isn’t expected, and sharing learning and the reality of experiences is also important.
Even though my project has since evolved beyond that which I originally presented, the feedback from the team at the SCU gave me important points to reflect on and ultimately helped me find a clearer direction.
Goodbye & thank you!
Looking back, this sabbatical truly surprised me, it pushed me to see SciComm and my own research in new and exciting ways. I am very thankful for the knowledge and skills gained from this experience, as well as the new friends.
A huge thank you to everyone in the Science Communication team and the MSc students, you were all incredibly inspiring. I look forward to seeing some of you again in the future.
By Megan Todd, Cognitive Sciences Master’s (MSc) student, University of Rijeka, Croatia.
During the MSc in Science Communication, which I graduated from in the summer of 2025, one of the things I was most interested in was how creative, low-resource formats could be used to tell science stories, particularly stories that don’t always get space in mainstream public narratives.
I’ve recently had the opportunity to develop a small project that grew directly out of these interests: a set of three illustrated zines telling the stories of three women scientists from the 20th century, who made significant contributions to global science but whose stories are largely unknown.
Seeing this project picked up by the Bristol-based science centre We the Curious has been a meaningful milestone, one that reflects the translation of ideas and skills developed during the MSc into a real-world project at a beloved science venue.
The zines feature three fascinating scientists:
Dr Janaki Ammal – ethnobotanist, plant scientist and conservationist, and the first woman scientist to work at the Royal Horticultural Society
Hisako Koyama – amateur solar observer whose incredibly detailed, hand-drawn records inform our understanding of solar activity, and lastly,
Dr Kamal Ranadive – cancer researcher whose work exploring links between cancers and viruses was ahead of its time. Her work also contributed to the development of a leprosy vaccine.
The project is a very small attempt to help broaden public representation of scientists, scientific work, and science histories. Representation in science is discussed in terms which sometimes feel very distant, but I was interested in exploring what it might look like in a tangible, accessible and low resource format.
Why zines?
Zines felt like a great medium to do this. They are relatively inexpensive to produce, informal, and well suited to combining illustration, narrative, and information. The zines are six pages, when folded, and tell the story of each scientist in broad strokes. The reverse side folds out into a poster, encouraging readers to continue to enjoy the story beyond the initial read.
Through the MSc, I’ve come to appreciate the value of reflexivity and of embedding evaluation into projects, even those that are small or do not involve research. The zines include a QR-linked feedback form with questions that are intentionally open and exploratory (e.g. After reading this, has your idea of what scientists look like changed? Did something about the stories surprise you?). The aim, of course, is not to produce formal findings, but simply to get a sense of how people respond to the zines.
Having the zines stocked at a vibrant and bustling science centre, like We the Curious, is hugely gratifying but also means producing the zines feels less like an end point and more like the start of something that might hopefully continue to evolve.
The project – alongside my wider science communication practice – has been a reminder that my time doing the MSc has been hugely valuable – not just to get the grounding to develop my own ideas, but also the confidence to design and test creative approaches to science communication in real contexts. I’m excited to see where the stories travel next!
By Sneha Uplekar, MSc Science Communication student 2023 – 2025
A training course on identifying and tackling mis- and disinformation is being offered to science communicators across Europe and beyond.
The free online training will draw on research to provide science communicators with insights into why people are vulnerable to mis- and disinformation and how to spot it. It will also help communicators identify ways they can help to tackle it. This is the first of a series of free monthly bite-sized training sessions to be hosted by the new European Competence Centre for Science Communication.
Anyone who communicates science is welcome to sign up and attend, including journalists, press officers, scientists, bloggers and vloggers.
The training will take place 12.30-2.30pm (CET) on 11 February 2026. Anyone interested in attending should register using this form: https://forms.gle/m4UmJb8HcBX8Nfbn6. The deadline for registrations is 10am (CET) on Monday, 9 February 2026.
This online event will be run by Drs Andy Ridgway and Dr Emma Weitkamp – UWE Bristol at the Science Communication Unit, University of the West of England, one of the partners in COALESCE, the EU-funded project developing the Competence Centre. The session will be informed by research from former EU-funded science communication projects RETHINK and ENJOI, as well as other research into mis- and disinformation.
“Mis-and disinformation about science is one of the biggest challenges facing society, so we see this training as a priority for the Competence Centre,” says Emma Weitkamp, one of the coordinators of the Centre’s training activities. “Anyone who communicates science, including health and climate research, is welcome to attend. We are particularly keen for freelancers and those who do unpaid science communication work and who don’t normally have access to training, to participate.”
Other online Competence Centre training planned for later in 2026 include sessions addressing trust in science, understanding the audience and its needs and stakeholder engagement.
How do you persuade businesses to invest in nature? I went to Helsinki to find out.
On the 23rd and 24th of October the European Commission held its annual European Business and Nature Summit at the grand Finlandia Concert Hall in Helsinki, Finland. It brought together European politicians and policymakers with representatives of businesses from around Europe (including the UK) to discuss the transition to a sustainable economy in the EU, and how and why businesses should invest in nature and environmental protection.
I was there as Assistant Editor and Network Developer for the recently rebooted Science for Environment Policy (SfEP) news service, an environmental news outlet produced here at the Science Communication Unit on behalf of the European Commission’s Directorate General for Environment. I was lucky to be sent over to Helsinki to promote the service, make connections and get a taste of how the European Commission functions.
I started with the SfEP project back in April this year, though I wasn’t entirely new to the SCU, having completed the MSc Science Communication back in 2024. I guess I couldn’t stay away! I joined the Unit from a role at Bath Uni which was similar in that I was a journalist in an academic world, not always the easiest fit, but rewarding work. My previous project was investigating corporate influence in science, policy and public health, with a focus on Big Tobacco. For this reason, I approached a summit bringing together business and financial interests with policymakers with some caution, perhaps even cynicism. Would it be a greenwashing opportunity for business interests or a more authentic engagement in protecting nature?
I left pleasantly surprised on several counts. The businesses invited by the European Commission had for the most part been selected for their engagement with nature protection and restoration. So the big polluters were not in attendance, whilst various agricultural and financial interests were. There also seemed to be a sincere belief in the idea that “what’s bad for nature is bad for business”, as Director-General for Environment, Eric Mamer, put it in his opening remarks. It was interesting to see how familiar scientific and environmental advocacy talking points on nature restoration were skilfully presented to the audience of business people, framed in a way that was persuasive to their interests rather than threatening.
It was also a great opportunity to hand out brochures and talk to various researchers, non-profit groups, advocacy groups and policymakers about the work we do at UWE and SfEP. One great connection I made was with the Baltic Sea Action Group, a non-profit taking a broad approach to protecting the Baltic Sea and its biodiversity by working with “researchers, companies, decision-makers, authorities, and farmers.” They also led several sessions at the summit that touched on effective stakeholder collaboration on complex and controversial environmental protection projects.
The final pleasant surprise (though perhaps not really a surprise, but certainly pleasant) was Helsinki itself. The city is beautiful, very clean and has a pervasive sense of calm. Apparently, it recently went a full year without a single traffic death, which speaks to its orderly sensibility. Returning to Bristol coach station into the midst of full Saturday night revelry reinforced Helsinki’s serene atmosphere. Some put this down to the saunas, which I sampled, both at the hotel (they all have saunas) and at a public sauna which included a freezing dip in the Baltic sea, followed by baking in a large concrete room heated by a massive brick furnace. On the surface not the most relaxing sounding experience, but I left feeling pretty like I’d been rebooted.
It was a successful trip on several counts, not least because working virtually with a gigantic organisation like the European Commission has the potential to feel rather remote, so being able to meet people and feel like I had a role to play in a much, much larger project and its commendable environmental goals was a great opportunity.
By Louis Laurence, Assistant Editor and Network Developer, Science for Environment Policy
When I first arrived in Bristol, I could never have imagined how transformative my time there would be. Let me set the scene: a PhD student from Bolivia whose teenage imagination was filled with Poirot’s grey cells, Miss Marple’s mystery parties, British music, Skins, Monty Python, Trainspotting… Yes, I was a ‘Britophile’. Over time, university and adult life meant I’d forgotten that passion, until my love for Science Communication brought me back to the land of my dreams as a visiting research student at one of the loveliest places on earth, the Science Communication Unit (SCU) at the University of the West of England (UWE).
When I arrived I was both excited and slightly nervous. I had brought a research project that mattered deeply to me, but I wasn’t sure how it would resonate with others or how much it would evolve during my time at the SCU. Now looking back, I can see that every conversation, meeting, or even casual lunch made my research stronger. What started as a sabbatical soon became much more than that: an exercise in collaboration, cultural immersion, and rediscovering what makes research truly meaningful. Please join me in this brief diary of my stay.
March 28th2025 – First Steps
Today I went to campus for the first time. Everything felt new: the architecture, the rhythm, even the way people smiled in the corridors. I visited the Engineering School, the Students’ Union, and finally the College of Business and Law, X Block, where Professor Clare Wilkinson wants us to meet on Monday. I remember thinking, “This is it. This is where it begins.”
And I haven’t even mentioned the sunshine—yes, there was plenty of it.
March 31st2025 – Meeting Clare
Our first face-to-face conversation happened in Clare’s office. I had spent almost six months exchanging emails, filling out forms, and navigating the usual bureaucracy, so finally meeting Clare in person felt a bit unreal. Clare is one of the leading voices in science communication, so I feel incredibly lucky that she would be hosting me during this journey.
She warmly explained how the sabbatical would work — the weekly meetings, the structure of the SCU, and the community of visiting researchers. Then she handed me a book, Race and Sociocultural Inclusion in Science Communication, which resonated with my PhD interests, and recommended a bibliography on systematic reviews, the area I was currently focusing on.
It was a short, welcoming meeting. The perfect beginning. Clare encouraged me to set clear, achievable goals for my stay. I told her that finishing a chapter of my thesis would feel like a dream come true.
Before leaving, she introduced me to Ana Vasconcelos, another sabbatical researcher from Portugal. We had lunch together, and she even helped me find an adapter for my cables. That small act of kindness made the day brighter and was my first taste of how welcoming this community would be.
April 9th2025 – Going deeper
My second week was busy. I spent hours at the 24/7 library, a paradise for any researcher. Excellent Wi-Fi, comfortable chairs, and quiet spaces that made me feel instantly productive.
That morning, I met with Clare again, this time to present my research plan in detail. Of course, I was very nervous —would she think my project was too small, too messy, too ambitious? But she listened carefully, asked thoughtful questions, and told me she was genuinely interested. That gave me confidence. It was the first time I realised that what I was doing mattered. I felt my voice from the Global South was not only welcomed but needed.
That day I met Dr. David Judge, Jane Wooster and Dr. Achintya Rao, team members in the SCU, for the first time. We shared a lovely lunch chatting about gardening and birds, while I was still picking up the accent and the new words. I nodded wisely… even when I only understood 70%. I didn’t yet know how much I would learn from them later.
April 17th2025: Coffee, potatoes, and cinema
I still laugh when I remember my “time-zone limbo.” After nine years living in Spain, where the clock runs one hour ahead of the UK, my sense of time was completely mixed up. I’d often arrange things “an hour later” or “an hour earlier,” forgetting which time zone I was actually in.
Ana and I agreed to meet for lunch at 1:30. So there I was, waiting, getting hungrier by the minute, until I gave up and ordered a delicious jacket potato. But Ana had already eaten with Achintya, perfectly on schedule, just not my schedule. When we all realised the confusion they advised me to keep both clocks on my phone.
I still do.
We made up for the missed lunch with coffee that afternoon. We talked about conferences, cinema, urbanism, dictatorship and, of course, about Bristol. How each of us experienced the city in their own way. Ana had already made it part of her rhythm, and Achintya, with her global perspective, saw it through many lenses. For me, everything still felt extraordinary.
Their insight helped me see that my stay in Bristol wasn’t just about research; it was also about learning how people live, work, and dream here.
April 25th2025: Immersed in The Cave
I had the chance to spend a day with students studying for the MSc in Science Communication at UWE. We started with a VR Immersive Experience in ‘The Cave’, an emblematic and very cool space where we got to experiment with alternative identities and explore what living with blindness or schizophrenia might feel like. It was powerful, emotional, and unforgettable.
Immersive experience in The Cave
It was wonderful to spend time with such a diverse group: people of different ages, backgrounds, and scientific passions, all united by a shared curiosity about communication. Their energy was contagious, as was their willingness to teach me about the nuances of British people and culture. They convinced me that I needed to visit Cardiff as soon as possible!
Later, I joined sessions led by Clare, Achintya, and Professor Emma Weitkamp, where we explored Evaluation and Impact in Science Communication, Social Media in the Communication Mix, and Arts-based Approaches to Science Communication. Each session added something new, practical, inspiring, and deeply relevant.
Deep down, I caught myself wishing I could have done such an MSc when I started my career. It was exactly the kind of creative and collaborative environment I’ve always loved.
April 29th2025: My first SCU meeting
This was a turning point. I had the chance to present my project to the entire SCU. The table was full of wisdom, and I met many of the members for the first time. The format —sharing updates followed by open feedback— revealed just how many inspiring projects and ideas were taking shape within the group.
I prepared a colourful presentation to introduce who I am and did my best to tell my research story. The feedback was sharp but generous. Listening to comments from Dr. Laura Fogg Rogers, Andrew Glester, and Dr. Andy Ridgway, and being challenged to rethink some of my assumptions, made me realise that my research was part of a larger, evolving conversation.
Afterwards, Emma told me she believed in my project. She encouraged me to attend a writing retreat and offered to help me review my methods. For a student far from home, her generous support felt like a gift.
May 15th2025: Writing together in the city
The writing retreat was one of my favourite days. We met in the Arnolfini Building, right in the city centre. Each of us worked quietly on our projects, yet the room was full of connection. During breaks, we talked about history, politics, and gardening. Dr. Amanda Webber had just returned from a field trip in Madagascar, and I was thrilled to finally meet her and hear about her experience there.
Over one of the breaks, David and I had a fascinating conversation about actor-network theory and its relation to situational analysis. He is a very kind human being, and it was great to find common ground in frameworks often used in science studies, and to see how we were both applying them in our own science communication work.
Later, I had an amazing one-on-one with Emma. We began by sharing our migration journeys before diving into the details of my work. Besides being generous and incredibly insightful, Emma is also fun and easy-going, making hard work feel light. That day, I left with a clear roadmap: coding tests, a stronger framework, and the reassurance that I was on the right track.
May 27-29th2025: The Conference!
After two years of working mostly alone, attending the 2025 Public Communication of Science and Technology (PCST) Conference with the UWE team felt like a privilege. It was even more special because the event was taking place right here in the UK, in Aberdeen.
Among the sessions, the discussion on Science Journalism for Development in the Global South resonated deeply with me. It explored uncritical reporting, science-unfriendly cultures, and the persistence of a neo-colonial scientific order — issues that felt close to my own research. The closing talk by Dr. Rajesh Tandon was equally powerful, calling on us to reclaim science as a public good in the service of democracy.
The PCST Conference at the P&J Live, Aberdeen
Beyond the sessions, reconnecting with colleagues, meeting authors I admire, and spending time with the wonderful UWE crowd reaffirmed why I love this field. One of the highlights was standing side by side with Beatriz Vietie and Ana — three generations of sabbatical students at UWE — a living symbol of mentorship and continuity.
I also had deep, inspiring conversations with Sarah Behenna, whose project with girls and science reminded me of the bigger purpose behind everything we do: to make knowledge inclusive, to help others, and to bring science closer to people.
June 5th2025: About lunch drop-ins
Not all growth happened in formal meetings or structured encounters. During a lunch drop-in, Ria Griffiths and Jane Wooster introduced me to the great British debate: cream first or jam first on a scone? The Devon or the Cornish way? We laughed and shared stories, and for me, it was another kind of learning. Two amazing women, full of facts, thoughtful about humanity, and completely okay with my Latin American laughter.
As a Bolivian abroad, these small cultural exchanges were just as important as the academic ones. The time spent with Ria and Jane in our office was full of moments that made me feel closer to British culture. They taught me about daily life, expressions, humour, and the quiet warmth hidden beneath the English rain.
June 9th2025: ABee Orchid on campus
Monday had just begun, and I was on my way to the library when I ran into a very concerned Amanda. The reason soon became clear: a newly bloomed bee orchidon campus, a rare and beautiful flower that doesn’t appear often in gardens. I’d seen a picture before in Emma’s office, so I understood the excitement.
Amanda explained how important it was to protect these rare blooms, especially since some gardening work was happening nearby. But to our surprise and relief, the gardener had already noticed the orchid and was being extra careful not to harm it.
It was a quiet, special moment, a reminder to slow down, to look closely… to stop and smell the roses…or, in this case, the orchids.
June 12th2025: Clare and Guidiana go for lunch
Throughout my stay, I was lucky to have the continuous support of Clare who somehow always found time despite her impossibly busy schedule. She is not only deeply knowledgeable but also incredibly thoughtful and clear, a person with the rare gift of making complex things simple.
I admired her ability to remember everything that was happening across the Unit, to share readings and bibliographic gems at the right moment, and to write the clearest, most encouraging emails. During my stay, she helped me rethink the structure of my research and how I see myself as a researcher.
Claire seemed amused by my Britophile enthusiasm: my excitement about the never-ending sunny days, the delicious dishes, and the authors and musicians I’ve admired since I was a teenager. That day over lunch, we got to talk about that: about our simple, human sides. I told her about my family following this experience from the other side of the ocean, and she shared stories that helped me see her beyond the academic brilliance.
At some point, I told her I’d been keeping a diary of my visiting research experience as a way of not forgetting any of it. She smiled and said, “We’ve never posted a diary format on the blog.” And now, we will.
Interlude – My Bristol Moments
Beyond the campus, Bristol itself became part of my research journey. The city has this rare energy: creative, kind, and full of curiosity. We The Curious absolutely blew my mind. It’s such an extraordinary concept: a space where families spend the afternoon playing with science. I loved watching parents, children, and grandparents exploring science side by side.
The planetarium was even better than expected: immersive, beautifully narrated, and rich in astronomy. I was fascinated by the M Shed Museum. There wasn’t enough time to dive into every detail but it offered a powerful reminder of how science, culture, and history intertwine in the making of place and identity.
Between those experiences, the street art, the concerts in the city centre, and the food I enjoyed (because yes, I really liked the food!) Bristol felt like a vibrant place where science, art, and everyday life flowed together with creativity, dialogue, and of course, a pint and a smile.
June 16th2025: Simplifying and deepening
A short meeting with Clare and Emma helped me realize something crucial: I didn’t need to cover everything. They encouraged me to focus: “Go deep, not wide.” Be exhaustive with fewer cases, keeping the analysis simple but meaningful.
Their advice changed how I approached my work. It showed me that solid research isn’t measured by volume but by clarity —by choosing with care and asking the right questions.
In a way, it was preparation for leaving: an invitation to refine, to consolidate, and to take the most valuable insights forward with me.
June 23th2025: The Farewell
My last day at the SCU office was a full house. It felt like a normal workday, yet I could sense that quiet mix of joy and nostalgia. I joined my final SCU Meeting, where I shared that my communication had been accepted for the Science Communication Conference in Mallorca, a piece of work inspired directly by what I developed during my stay.
We laughed about how much I’d grown to love English food (yes, really!). We took pictures, exchanged small gifts and I left a sombrero de saoas a small souvenir and gesture of gratitude. Then we had lunch and, later, one last drink together in the garden.
It was the perfect ending: simple, warm, and full of community. The kind of goodbye that doesn’t feel like an ending at all, but rather the start of a new chapter.
Gracias, Thank you
From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank Clare and Emma. You gave me guidance, patience, and trust. And to Achintya, Amanda, David, Jane, Sarah, Ria and all the SCU members who made Bristol feel like home. You didn’t just strengthen my research; you offered me community.
I came here as a PhD student from the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, carrying my own questions and doubts. I leave with stronger research, new friendships, and a renewed love for British culture. Jacket potatoes, scones, pints, ceilidh dances, rare orchids, deep conversations, and countless moments of laughter— all of it is now part of me.
In the autumn of 2022, with my MSc Science Communication at UWE Bristol drawing to a close, I found myself caught between a rock (my looming dissertation deadline) and a hard place (a highly competitive and unforgiving job market). An interview with Bristol-based science education magazine, Futurum careers, provided a glimmer of hope. However, while my master’s ended on a high, the interview ended in rejection, and I found myself in the confusion of a post-grad, post-COVID job hunt.
Not long after the interview, Futurum contacted me to ask if I would be interested in doing some freelance work for them as a writer, a situation that the scicomm master’s had prepared me well for. Over the next couple of years, I developed a close working relationship with the Futurum team, writing articles, producing podcasts and gaining experience until, finally, they offered me the job I had originally applied for.
All this to say, when one door closes, loiter outside for a couple of years until it opens again.
Graduating from the UWE science communication master’s in November 2022.
Futurum Careers is a free online resource and magazine aimed at introducing 14-19-year-olds to careers in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Maths) and SHAPE (Social Sciences, Humanities, Arts for People and the Economy). We collaborate with academics from all over the world and translate their research into open educational resources such as articles, activity sheets, podcasts, animations and PowerPoint presentations. Our resources connect curriculum subjects with real-world research projects and the people behind them, showing students that anyone and everyone can find their place in STEM and SHAPE.
As an editorial assistant at Futurum careers, I spend my days editing articles, creating educational resources and producing podcasts. Every day is an opportunity to use and continue to develop skills that I first learnt on the UWE Bristol MSc Science Communication.
Looking back through my coursework, I can read my first clunky attempts at science writing and cringe at my first awkward, stilted podcasts. We all have to start somewhere, and as the course progressed, my confidence grew and I honed my technical skills. I learnt how to tailor my writing to a target audience, how to build flexibility into a structured interview, and how to sift through heaps of complex information to find the golden nuggets needed to build a narrative. Putting these skills into practice and receiving expert guidance and feedback was invaluable and allowed me to take my first steps as a freelance science communicator with a sure foot.
As well as skills, I also gained knowledge. I learnt about the deficit models and its downfalls, about trust in science and how to instil (or impair) it, and about science capital and the impact it can have on a young person’s prospects. Learning about these ideas gave me the context I needed to understand Futurum’s mission and find my place in the company.
A selection of Futurum careers resources.
Although I started working for Futurum as a writer, it is my work on the Futurum careers podcast that I am most proud of. As host of the podcast, I have interviewed all sorts of researchers from historians and philosophers to physicists, ecologists and even a marine bioacoustician. Chatting to these people about their research, their careers and their advice for students is the best part of my job. As I said in our recent editorial episode of the podcast, “[The podcast] is a really nice opportunity to get to know the researchers a bit better. And then I get to just sit back and listen to these people talk about their amazing lives and their amazing work. And it’s inspiring for me, so I hope it’s inspiring for the students that listen to it as well.”
Currently, I am working on an episode of the podcast with ethnomusicologist Dr Marcia Ostashewski and her team at the Centre for Sound Communities (CSC) in Unama’ki (Cape Breton), Nova Scotia. Marcia and I have been collaborating on a suite of educational resources over the past year, highlighting the diversity of researchers working at the CSC and the communities that they serve and support.
In September 2025, Marcia invited me to present these resources at a course on world music pedagogy in Halifax that explored the role of music in teaching and learning through diverse cultural perspectives and in relationship with diverse local culture bearers and communities. While public speaking is not my favourite thing to do, I was excited to travel somewhere new and push myself out of my comfort zone.
Presenting a Futurum careers PowerPoint at the World Music Pedagogy course hosted by the Centre for Sound Communities at Dalhousie University, October 2025.
In the end, half an hour of sweaty palms and stammering speech was well worth it. Not only did I get to listen to Julian Kytasty, a world-renowned bandura player, perform, but I also got to chat with him and learn about his musical heritage and traditions. Not only did I get to experience the joyful teaching of Mamadou Koita, a virtuoso balafón player from Burkina Faso, but I also got to play djembe alongside him and Afua Cooper, a slam poet, author and scholar.
To take part in this event was a truly special experience, and it’s just one of many highlights that I’ve had while working for Futurum. It’s a privilege to be able to say that I love my job and that I’m proud of what I do. In these uncertain times, it’s hard to know where my science communication career will end up, but I do know that it started in the Science Communication Unit at UWE Bristol, and I will always be grateful for that.
Playing djembe alongside Daniel, Mamadou Koita and Afua Cooper at the World Music Pedagogy course hosted by the Centre for Sound Communities at Dalhousie University, October 2025.
By Joe Aslett, UWE Bristol MSc Science Communication student 2022.
After almost three months back home, it’s nice to sit down and try to put into words the adventure I experienced at the beginning of this year.
I always wanted to have an experience abroad, and I never had the chance to do an Erasmus exchange during my undergraduate or postgraduate studies. So, I guess it was now or never — my last chance to try visiting a university overseas. A new adventure, and at the perfect time for my PhD, just before I dive into the you-know-what document.
I remember my last week in Portugal before I travelled to the UK. Let me get as much sunshine as I can before I never see the sun again for three months, I thought.
At least that’s the perception that we, Portuguese people, rooted by the sea and under the sunshine, have of the UK. To my surprise, though, the sun was shining on many days during my stay. As I told my colleagues at the SCU, “I’m going to be an ambassador for the good weather in the UK.” But, as they keep telling me, I was very lucky, it’s not always like this.
Weather talk aside — always the first topic to break the ice — my experience in the UK gave me three incredible things. I developed more confidence as a PhD student in science communication, had the chance to meet incredible people and, I’m now a fan of musical theatre – how many Wicked shows are enough?
Let’s focus on the first two topics here, which are most aligned with the purpose of this blog post.
I’m a PhD student in Science Communication, based at one of the leading biomedical research institutes in Portugal — the Centre for Neuroscience and Cell Biology of the University of Coimbra. My project sits at the intersection of health communication and information design. I’m using a participatory approach with clinicians, patients and families to create illustrated educational materials about autoimmune encephalitis. This group of rare but treatable brain disorders is still widely unknown. In fact, there is a lack of credible, accessible, understandable and relatable information available to patients and families living with this condition, especially in Portuguese. With this project, I’m aiming to help change this, while also contributing to research on how scientific designers and illustrators can use collaboration with end-users to design better and more effective communication methods.
Coming from a neurobiology background, switching to science communication meant learning an entirely new set of research tools, knowledge systems, and ways of thinking about reality — ontology and epistemology were just words that I had never heard before. Although I am well supported by an interdisciplinary group of supervisors, I wanted to learn more and have the experience of being embedded in a science communication research group. And the opportunity at the Science Communication Unit gave me just that.
At the SCU, I was hosted by Dr Margarida Sardo and Professor Clare Wilkinson, who provided incredible support by not only discussing and providing feedback on my project, but also mentioning the different opportunities that were open to me during my stay. These included participating in other projects and attending classes from the MSc in Science Communication at UWE Bristol. Having previously taken a Continuing Professional Development module with the team, I was unsurprised by how interesting, dynamic, and practical these classes were (after all, it’s a communication Master’s). However, the incredible and talented group of students I joined as part of the programme, who made me feel so welcome from day one, were another highlight of the stay.
I also got to explore and be inspired by UWE’s different campuses. I was mostly based at Frenchay (home of the SCU), but also spent time at Bower Ashton, the hub of the creative studies, and Glenside, with its picturesque buildings.
Since the best is saved for last, during my stay I met fantastic researchers, staff, and fellow PhD students. Most of my days were spent in SCU 2C010 with the best company, such nice and funny people: Ria, David, Achintya, Henry, Jane, Jelena (and, towards the end of my stay, Guidiana, also a visiting PhD student starting her own adventure).
Time flew during those three months, and I already miss it.
See you next time, SCU@UWE!
Ana Vasconcelos, visiting PhD student from the University of Coimbra, Portugal
Working with liquid nitrogen can be a daunting experience. It can suffocate in an ill-ventilated room, leave horrendous burns from seconds of skin exposure, and turn a banana into a deadly weapon…And yet it somehow pales in comparison to working with teenagers.
That is why I first reached out to David Williams to help out on ‘Physics in the freezer’. The MSc Science communication at UWE Bristol, more than anything, has taught me that while science is a subject that can be learnt, communication is a skill that must be lived and practised. And communication with young people is a skill unto itself.
Davids’ last bit of theatrics, disposing of Liquid Nitrogen after a show.
David set up ‘Physics in the freezer’ to combine his two passions: teaching and conducting dangerous science experiments. He has created a set of shows featuring different demonstrations using magnets, liquid nitrogen, and superconductors. He takes these shows to primary schools around the South West to inspire kids into STEM. To his credit, David quickly realised that the most aspirational way of delivering this content is with young presenters. As such, we spent two days in Breacon Beacon High School, not just showing these demonstrations to sixth-form physics students, but teaching them how to deliver one.
It was an early start on Tuesday, as we arrived at the school and got everything set up in their science labs. I’d had a practice session with David and run the show for year 5 (9-10ys old) twice at this point, so while not new to the material, I was filled with equal parts excitement and apprehension. The aim of the first day was to run through a whole show ourselves and then have our sixth formers pick and practise which parts they wanted to do. We ended up with a class of 7 and got straight into a lengthy safety briefing. Above I outlined just a few of the dangers of working with liquid nitrogen, but in truth, like many things in life, a sensible approach and a healthy dose of fear significantly reduce the risks. It was then on to the demonstrations.
Alice pouring liquid nitrogen into a kettle to create the ‘whistling kettle’
We always start with an introduction that covers the basics of the physics and the wonder that comes from seeing liquid nitrogen poured for the first time into a large glass dewar (a specialized container designed for storing and transporting cryogenic liquids). Smoke (or rather water vapour) billows down the sides, whilst the surface fizzes, pops and dances like quiet fireworks. The children at the shows love it, and even these teenagers seem somewhat impressed. Next, we proceed to pour liquid nitrogen into a steam kettle and listen to it whistle. I was in charge of this one, and while I’m used to getting ‘ohhs’ and ‘ahhs’ from a Year 5 audience, the sixth formers were less than impressed. Fine, and very understandable, but unsettling, nonetheless. Good thing we had bigger and better things up our sleeves. The following few demonstrations involve freezing, shrinking and bursting balloons, smashing frozen bananas and producing smoke-filled bubbles.
Sixth formers then separated themselves into groups and got to work learning the script and practising the demos. I had a group of three demoing a whistling kettle and smashing bananas. Teenagers, once you get talking to them, are not nearly as scary as they seem, even if they did constantly quote memes at me that I’m apparently too old to understand (I’m 25, that seems unfair). They were about as enthused by the material as you can hope for from people who have willingly chosen physics but less so willingly come to school.
After 4 hours of hard work and participation, we rewarded them with a more advanced show on superconductors and magnets, which was a perfect end to a long day, especially for me, who hadn’t yet had the chance to see some of these demonstrations. It’s a real bonding experience to realise that students, teachers and demonstrators alike are all kicking their feet and giggling overshooting frozen magnets 5 feet in the air.
Flowers being frozen in Liquid Nitrogen
On Day 2, we were putting our prodigies to the test; they were to give three shows back-to-back to local Year 5 students visiting the school. When David had first told me about this timeframe, it seemed to me to be a trial by fire, but having now done it, I understand just how valuable ‘just getting to do it’ is for learning. And they were terrific. They read from scripts, of course, no one wants to spend a hot June evening practising lines, but every one of them came out of their shell and, show on show, improved vastly. By the end it felt damn near professional. I took over a few of the demos for students who had to leave early and had a blast getting to improve my presenting skills further and go off script with a newfound confidence.
The idea of throwing yourself into an unknown field with a dangerous substance and plenty of public speaking might make you squirm. I would argue it should. But I never once felt unsupported or overwhelmed. David made sure of that. My biggest takeaway from this experience is to put trust in yourself when you are the learner, and trust in others when you are the teacher. Participating in physics in the freezer gave me the opportunity to be both of those things, and I cannot recommend it enough to others who want to grow their communication skills. Also, child, teenager, adult: who wouldn’t want to smash a frozen banana?
By Alice Thomson, MSc Science Communication student, UWE Bristol
