Poetry in Scientific Texts: Balancing Clarity and Creativity
- Rebecca Savioz
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read
This morning, while performing a search for safety data on a drug on internet, among all hits, one in particular caught my eye. It contained a quote from Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince: "It is the time you have spent for your rose that makes your rose so important." Reading it moved something in me that made me check that hit over the other ones. The reference was not relevant for my purpose. But still, I will remember it longer than all the other ones.
Introduction
We know for decades that emotions help us remember something - a fact, an event, a story, anything. When you experience an emotion, especially a strong one, the amygdala becomes highly active. It signals to the hippocampus, which is critical for memory formation, that the event is important and worth remembering. In addition, emotions trigger the release of stress hormones (e.g., adrenaline and cortisol) and neurotransmitters (e.g., dopamine) that enhance the consolidation of memories.
Tale tellers may not know the details of these brain processes, but they use them very well. Tale tellers know how to captivate the audience by adding vivid actions, suspense, sadness or joy, fear, silences, followed by surprising noises, and, the one I prefer, humor, to their storytelling. And it works: we remember tales for years. Scientists know the cellular processes probably quite well, but we don't see that much poetry in scientific texts.
Why are we scientists still so reluctant to use a little bit of poetry in our publications, posters or presentations? Our audience would certainly remember topics such as intracellular drug delivery way better than if just presented with pure cold facts.
A Bad Experience - That I Remember!
Years ago I wrote my master's thesis on the neurogenesis in the hippocampus and its relation to spatial memory. I had decided to put an image of a mythological hippocampus on the front page of my thesis. Everything else was completely scientific and serious.
The expert who had to evaluate my work had one major comment on it: that the front picture was inappropriate. He insisted on it for a time that was inappropriately long, compared to my perception of its importance. He made me change the front picture to a pure scientific one.
What I remember of this episode, was the fear that this expert instilled in me, to step even slightly out of the box. And how narrow minded some scientists could be, which certainly was the case of this expert. That's why I stayed very factual and serious in my scientific writing ever after that episode, and it made me good: I became a scientific writer!
The Point of Staying Factual
My expert had a point, I have to admit: the purpose of scientific texts is not merely for the audience to remember its content, but for other scientists to be able to understand the work, verify and replicate it, and build upon it. In that sense, scientific descriptions need to be clear, precise and avoid ambiguity; if they're too poetic, the risk is to oversimplify complex ideas, blur concepts, and in fine, mislead the reader.
Before the Scientific Revolution (16th-17th centuries), science was a discipline of natural philosophy, blended with theology, alchemy, and metaphysics. Symbolic language was used to describe the world. For example, in astrology:
"The firmament is a book in which the signatures of all things are written, and he who reads it will understand the essence of all things."
Paracelsus (1493–1541)
After the Scientific Revolution, scientific writing turned more factual and less poetic, as figures like Bacon, Galileo, and Newton prioritized empirical evidence and clarity. Later, this trend was reinforced through peer-reviewed journals and standardized methods, favoring objectivity over literary style.
This scientific revolution was a good thing, in that it made science more reliable overall. But, having said that, let's see where we could all benefit from some more creativity in scientific writing.
Where We Could be More Poetic
In oral presentations. Don't we prefer presentations that are engaging in any way? Those including a joke, an anecdote, anything that moves us? Over those that are merely a copy-paste of graphs and long texts on slides?
In publication titles. For example:
"Chaperoning histones at the DNA repair dance."
Chakraborty U. et al. Chaperoning histones at the DNA repair dance. DNA Repair (Amst). 2021 Dec;108:103240. doi: 10.1016/j.dnarep.2021.103240.
Isn't that title way more interesting than 3-line long titles that you have to read four times (six if you haven't had your coffee) to get what the work was about?
When teaching science. In the case of teaching, the purpose, above all, is indeed to remember the content. Therefore, in my opinion, creativity and poetry should be integrated as much as possible. Didn't we all like and learn topics much better if the teacher was creative? And don't we instantly forget about the content of a boring procedure when taught by means of eLearning, void of any emotions?
In business communication. When you need to communicate your research to non-scientists, whether for investors, customers or policymakers, you'll make a stronger impact using stories than technical language. See one of our other posts here, where you can find additional tips on how to effectively communicate science in a business world.
In general, creativity and freedom to move out of the box will drive innovation: isn't a disruptive approach needed to advance science and create ground for serendipity? Do you think my thesis expert drove and accelerated science in an innovative way? Would you prefer the creative or the serious style? Let us know your choice in the comments below.
Conclusion
Three centuries ago, science truly became science, with scientific writing shifting from literary descriptions to highly standardized, factual and clear content. This was a good turn: while creativity can make science more engaging, it can also jeopardize the clarity, reproducibility and reliability of published work.
However, when communicating science, a bit of poetry can captivate audiences and deepen their connection to the material. Balancing factual rigor with creative expression allows science to not only inform but also inspire, innovate, and ensure that its messages resonate long after the data is presented. Aren't the best science communicators expertly managing this balance, which requires a smart spirit, a good dose of open-mindedness, along with a rigorous attitude? Poetry and humor, even in science, is to me the highest expression of intelligence.
Today, I would definitely keep that mythological hippocampus on my front page, just as I would have, had I lived 300 years ago.
Comments