🔬 On jargon and the limits of science storytelling: My conversation with Mohamed Elsonbaty

Hey folks! This week’s interview is with Mohamed Elsonbaty, a science journalist with 15 years of experience across the Arab world. We talk about jargon, trust, climate policy language, AI, and why science communication often fails not because of facts, but because of how they’re explained.

What initially pushed you into science communication?

Almost 15 years ago, I was studying to be a pharmacist. During my third year, the FameLab science communication competition was held in Egypt for the first time. I gave a three-minute talk on stage for a public audience, explaining a medical concept I had studied. Being part of this group of people who were enthusiastic about science and communicating science opened up more opportunities. I started taking part in science communication activities and science festivals in both Alexandria and Cairo.

After graduation, I found myself more interested in working in science communication. A local science news website called Ibtikar, which means “innovation” in Arabic, was looking for writers with scientific backgrounds. I applied and started working as a science journalist. From there, I committed to science communication rather than pursuing a career in science or pharmacy.

Was there a moment or project early on that made you think, “Yes, this is my field”?

I’ve had that moment several times. One was on my very first day working as a science journalist at the Ibtikar website. There was a large conference in Alexandria, with the Nobel laureate Richard R. Ernst as the keynote speaker. I went up to him and asked for an interview — and ended up interviewing a Nobel laureate on my first day. As far as I know, it was his first interview published in Arabic. When I went back to my editor and said, “I’ve interviewed a Nobel laureate,” he just replied, “OK, this is your first day.” I was really happy. I was glad I’d done it.

After 15 years, what still makes a science story feel worth chasing for you?

I’d say it’s a story that has impact, one that tries to change something or makes the reader see an issue from a different perspective. That’s what I focus on in my work now.

For example, one of my recent pieces looked at how much of climate action is really about language: the choice of words and terms, and the “war on words” over what should or shouldn’t appear in final conference agreements.

Stories like that push readers beyond “we should do this” or “we shouldn’t do that”, and towards thinking about how science interacts with policy, how it tries to influence decisions, and how policymakers do, or don’t, listen. These dynamics matter most on issues that affect everyone, like climate change.

What’s the biggest challenge facing science journalism in the Arab world today, and what would actually help fix it?

Science journalism in the Arab world faces the same challenges as science journalism worldwide. This year, we’ve seen major financial problems and significant budget cuts. That has also meant the closure of some reputable, specialised science media outlets in the region.

On top of that, the entire media ecosystem is being reshaped by AI, and there’s growing pressure on journalists to act as influencers as well. The lines between journalism and content creation are becoming increasingly blurred. I think this shift is affecting science journalism in the Arab world largely negatively, and overall scientific coverage is shrinking.

As for how to fix it, that’s a difficult question. We have to keep reminding people why science journalism matters, and what role it can play, especially in a context like the Arab world. But with the scale of the financial challenges we’re facing, this isn’t something that can be solved easily, and it’s a problem we’re seeing globally.

What’s the most common communication mistake you see scientists make?

Using jargon. Scientists and researchers love jargon. They use a lot of scientific terms and assume everyone will understand what they’re talking about.

One exercise I often run is to ask participants to write down their PhD topic or their latest academic paper, then remove every scientific term and replace it with the word “blah”. They usually end up with something like: “A comparative analysis of blah blah using blah to deliver drugs in a blah blah way to create a blah blah effect on blah blah tissue.”

That’s when they realise that, for a non-specialist audience, every unfamiliar scientific term just sounds like “blah”. And of course, that becomes a huge barrier to clear and simple communication.

If I had one piece of advice for researchers trying to communicate their work, this: avoid scientific terms as much as possible. That alone would make a big difference. Jargon is the hardest thing to overcome.

How do you see the role of AI evolving in science journalism and science communication over the next five years?

That’s a difficult question, because it’s hard to predict where AI will be in five years. It’s been almost three years since tools like ChatGPT became public, and we’ve already seen major shifts and reversals.

I tend to think in two scenarios. In an ideal — and probably less likely — one, science journalists and communicators are properly trained to use generative AI to improve the quality of their work. AI adoption will happen whether we like it or not; the real issue is whether it’s used effectively and responsibly. In that case, AI could reduce tedious tasks, freeing people to focus on what really matters.

The worst-case scenario is that organisations use AI to replace science journalists and communicators altogether. Models are getting better at producing scientific content: not journalism or science communication, but material that can be widely distributed online. If organisations choose that path, there’s little we can do to stop it.

Both possibilities are real. That’s why we need to think carefully about how AI is adopted in ways that support good work, rather than cutting corners or saving money at the expense of quality.

What skills should students and early-career communicators focus on if they want an international-level career?

They need to identify what makes them unique and how they can contribute to the international science communication ecosystem. It’s important to think about what you can add, rather than just wanting an international career for its perceived benefits. For example, I was able to bring perspectives from the Arab world, which hasn’t always been well represented in international science communication networks. That was my contribution.

Another important skill is what I’d call opportunity hunting: being aware of grants, fellowships, conferences, and other opportunities that can give you visibility and entry into international spaces. You start to be seen, meet people, build relationships, and understand how the field works. Networking is extremely important.

What gives you hope about the future of science communication, and what still worries you?

People working in science communication give me hope. Almost everyone I know in science journalism or science communication made a conscious decision to be there. They’re passionate about the field and believe in its value. Because of that, you see people constantly fighting to do their work well, to improve it, and to reflect critically on what they’re doing. They’re not afraid to speak up. That’s what I like about the science communication community.

What worries me is how institutions — academia and governments — treat science communication and public engagement. Too often, it’s seen as trivial, or at least less important than other priorities. As a result, when budgets are cut, science communication is usually one of the first things to suffer. That means funding cuts, lack of recognition, or replacing human work with AI. In many countries, science communication still isn’t embedded in high-level policy or research agendas. It’s treated as a side activity.

We, as science communicators, still have to fight to make sure science communication has a proper place in political and research priorities. There have been some advances, but there are also setbacks. That still worries me. At the same time, I believe in the individuals working in the field. They’re what give me hope that we’ll find a way forward.

And that’s it for today! Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the newsletter, share it with a friend. And if you really enjoyed it, consider upgrading to a paid subscription: it helps support my work and means a lot.

Elia Kabanov is a science writer covering the past, present and future of technology (@metkere)

Cover art: Elia Kabanov feat. DALL-E.