Draw them in

They say a picture speaks louder than a thousand words, and it might… but what if it is speaking in a foreign language? When communicating geoscience through graphics, are we favouring our own needs to the point that we are pushing audiences away, rather than bringing them closer?

To some, the incursion of art into science may seem relatively new. Cast your mind back a few years and it was not as common as it is today to find sci-art sessions in scientific conferences, articles on how to collaborate with artists, or even events dedicated entirely to the topic (see report on Earth’s Canvas and further reading). However, utilising artistic methods to communicate scientific knowledge, and finding in science a source of inspiration to create art (and every possible intermediary stage between those two end members) are far from new. From Ramon y Cajal’s exceptionally detailed drawings of the human brain, to Salvador Dali’s melting clocks as a visualisation of the painter’s fascination with the physics of relativity. The Mona Lisa? I am not sure she really is smiling but Da Vinci’s use of perspective, choice of pigments and application techniques all speak loudly to his scientific interests: optics, chemistry, anatomy. Art is everywhere in science, and vice versa.

Visuals offer many benefits, from enhancing our understanding to sparking the curiosity needed to advance science. Here, I explore how, in our quest to produce increasingly accurate and universally accessible scientific graphics, we may have inadvertently lost sight of a key requirement for successful engagement beyond our most immediate specialist circles.

The art of visual learning

Most geoscientists own a set of colouring pencils, and for good reason. They sketch landscapes, specimens, and what they see through the microscope. They draw maps that then give way to cross sections. Data are compiled in data visualisations, datasets are connected through infographics, and hypotheses are brought to life as concept diagrams.

A huge portion of learning in geoscience degrees is done through sketching and illustration, because unlike other forms of documentation (such as photography) field sketches and the like require unique observation skills. What supercharges our understanding isn’t the process of sketching itself, it is the time it forces us to spend observing a subject. The same applies for creating visuals of the things we can’t see—the interior of Earth, an extinct species of dinosaur, the process of formation of a specific geological structure. Piecing together the evidence and knowledge we have into a graphical representation takes time, and in that time our understanding evolves. Bringing complex information together into visuals that communicate knowledge within a broader context, in a way that written text simply can’t, is a geoscientists’ bread and butter.

Geoscientific knowledge is a never-ending source for truly captivating stories

Geoscientific knowledge is a never-ending source for truly captivating stories: tales about the landscapes around us, of long-gone creatures, of faraway worlds. These stories have the potential to widen eyes and blow minds, no less so because of how directly relevant most aspects of geoscience are to us, and our lives on Earth. Given our proficiency at telling stories through visuals, you would think we are as well-equipped as we can be when it comes to sharing our science with the world. And yet, something is not going quite right.

A quick internet search shows that the public’s perception of the disciplines under the Earth sciences umbrella is a rather short-sighted, distorted and negative version of reality (Rodgers et al., 2024). At best, geoscientists are thought to be bearded middle-aged men digging for fossils (thank you Jurassic Park). At worst, the great evil behind climate change and the impending apocalypse.

Geoscience, at its core, is about making sense of the world around us. So it is somewhat ironic that, whilst we seem quite able to use visuals to further our own understanding, more often than not we then proceed to present scientific results in ways that cause the general public to run in the opposite direction, and even leave specialist audiences baffled.

A universal language?

It is often said that graphics are a universally spoken language and, to a great extent, that is true. If you find yourself in the need to entertain a group of individuals who speak different languages, Pictionary is a better choice than Scrabble (at least right until the point where you have to figure out if someone has guessed what is being drawn correctly. What is Greek for toothbrush again?!).

Communication, to succeed, requires empathy. Empathy requires not just understanding what someone knows, but what drives them, and what connects them to you and the science you are presenting to them.

Whilst information presented visually is, a priori, more appealing (and less daunting) to the onlooker than a wall of text, barriers to access do also exist in graphics. Some of these barriers we have learnt to recognise—improperly labelled diagrams, use of non-scientific colourmaps, impossible to navigate multi-panel figures. They have prompted the proliferation of resources and tools that anyone can seek and use to improve their own scientific communication practices, and which stress the importance of designing with purpose (Crameri et al., 2020, 2022; Christiansen, 2023). However, at times, understanding our audience, and being clear on our message(s) is not enough. Communication, to succeed, requires empathy. Empathy requires not just understanding what someone knows, but what drives them, and what connects them to you and the science you are presenting to them. This is particularly true when our audiences are composed of non-specialists (and we seem to routinely forget that!).

When confronted with new information, most of us make a very quick judgement: Am I interested? In general, the less energy required to understand something, the easier it is to engage with. When presented with unfamiliar data, I am more likely to feel capable of deciphering it if it is displayed in a way that is familiar to me, such as a commonly used type of diagram. A familiar starting point is one way to connect with your audience, but there are others—many of which can be unlocked through less-technical types of scientific graphics. These are the kinds of graphics that most geoscientists don’t feel entirely comfortable creating because, as many will tell you, they “can’t really draw.”

Accuracy vs. artistic freedom

If I had a penny for every time someone bought a print of the 1893 cross-section of the Earth by Levy Walter Yaggy… While rather inaccurate in its scientific content, the almost whimsical qualities of that cross-section (and many of Yaggy’s other maps and charts) would certainly have captured the imagination of the children gazing at them in their classrooms in the early 20th century, inspiring them to ponder what lies hidden beneath their feet. For me, a different illustration comes to mind—one I first saw in a lecturer’s office: a humorous cartoon where Earth’s interior is depicted as housing a series of complex gear mechanisms driving the motions of tectonic plates (Holden & Vogt, 1997).

Or take Hollywood blockbusters. Yes, we love to complain about the lack of scientific rigour in them (Journey to the Centre of the Earth, I’m looking at you), but, again, these blockbusters have got one thing right—they connect with the public and might just pique enough interest in a certain topic for someone to pursue it further. Whether through colour, humour, or storytelling, sparking curiosity is by far the most effective way to kickstart scientific engagement.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that giving up on scientific accuracy and rigour is the answer. Successful science graphics are those able to connect with their intended audience and clearly communicate factual information. It just seems to me that we have put significant focus on the second part, and not enough on the first.

Simply put, if you are writing an article about what killed the dinosaurs in which you discuss the asteroid impact hypothesis, accompanying it with a cartoon of a dinosaur gazing at the sky in horror will get conversations going much more successfully than a beautifully crafted geological cross-section of the Cretaceous–Paleogene boundary where a thin layer is labelled “clay”. Building a connection with potential readers through humour makes them a lot more likely to want to find out what the clay means. The clay matters, real science matters, but attention spans are short and non-factual content has really adapted to appeal to that. We should too.

Creating engaging stories 

Geoscientists are highly skilled at creating technical illustrations—maps, cross-sections, specimen drawings, and data visualisations. With every passing year, they are becoming even better at it, largely through self-led education in science communication (the lack of formal training in most science degrees is a topic for an entirely separate discussion) (Patson & Wagner, 2024). This skillset is invaluable when sharing the many stories Earth has to tell. But think about it this way: you could write the most amazing book, but if the cover doesn’t encourage people to pick it up in a bookshop, it might as well not exist.

Creating engaging stories starts with, and often hinges on, the way you connect with people

Hold on… why would you want to communicate your science to non-specialists? (And where would you find the time to do so?!) I could list all the benefits of scientific communication—from increasing your own scientific impact to educating society about the many roles geoscience plays in our everyday lives—but the truth is, you simply might not want to. If you do, however, it’s neither that difficult nor time-consuming (McDermott et al., 2018). You just have to be strategic.

Creating engaging stories starts with, and often hinges on, the way you connect with people. Perhaps creating an artsy illustration inspired by your work feels a little too far outside your comfort zone—fair enough. There are plenty of science artists out there with whom you can collaborate. But it’s not always about elaborate masterpieces. For example, try this: take your most boring data visualisation, plot, or chart… and put some googly eyes on it. I’m serious. Then, share your new plot-shaped friend, along with a sentence or two about them—add a bit of humour if you want to go even further. This technique is called “personification”, and it’s one of the easiest and least time-intensive ways to bring your scientific visuals to life in a completely different way.

I should warn you, though, it’s a slippery slope. Before you know it, you might find that—oh, horror—people are getting really excited about your work and want you to talk about it all the time!

Author

Dr Lucia Perez Diaz

Earth scientist and scientific author-illustrator, UK

www.luciaperezdiaz.com

Resources

Connecting Science And Art: How To Find And Be A Science-Artist. EGU Webinar 2023; www.egu.eu

Earth’s Canvas: Exploring Geology in Creativity. Geological Society of London Meeting 2024; www.geolsoc.org.uk

Levi Walter Yaggy’s Geographical Maps and Charts (1887/93). The Public Domain Review; publicdomainreview.org

Levi Walter Yaggy’s chart and map collection: publicdomainreview.org

Errant Science: Enjoying and explaining science with cartoons; errantscience.com

Online Training

To attend the Society’s online training course ‘Draw Them In: Communicating Geoscience Through Illustration’, led by Lucia Perez Diaz and taking place on 8 May 2025, please visit: www.geolsoc.org.uk/05-25-TC-Draw-them-in

Further reading

• Christiansen, J. (2023) Building Science Graphics: An Illustrated Guide to Communicating Science through Diagrams and Visualisations. A K Peters/CRC Press.
• Crameri, F., Shephard, G. & Heron, P.J. (2020) The misuse of colour in science communication. Nature Communications 11, 5444; https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-020-19160-7
• Crameri, F., Shephard, G. & Straume, E. (2022) S-Ink: The open collection of geoscience graphics. EarthArXiv; https://doi.org/10.31223/X51P78
• Holden, J.C. & Vogt, P.R. (1977) Graphic solutions to problems of plumacy. EOS Transactions 56, pp. 573-580; https://doi.org/10.1029/EO058i007p00573
• McDermott, J.E., Partridge, M. & Bromberg, Y. (2018) Ten simple rules for drawing scientific comics. PLOS Computational Biology 14(1); https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pcbi.1005845
• Patson, N.D. & Wagner, L. (2024) Building a more engaged scientist from the bottom up: The impact of public engagement training on undergraduate students. PLOS ONE 19(4); https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0302671
• Rogers, S.L., Giles, S., Dowey, N., Greene, S.E., Bhatia, R., Van Landeghem, K., King, C., et al. (2024) “You just look at rocks, and have beards”: Perceptions of geology from the United Kingdom—a qualitative analysis from an online survey. Earth Science, Systems and Society 4; https://doi.org/10.3389/esss.2024.10078

Share this article