A letter I have sent to University of Cambridge on their decision to make Dr. Chris Smith redundant:
There are some things that do not appear as figures on a balance sheet. One might be the gargantuan contribution to the good reputation of University of Cambridge by Dr. Chris Smith in his years as a science broadcaster. Another might be the damage inflicted on that same reputation by you deciding to make Dr. Chris Smith redundant. The thing about these apparent intangibles is that they inevitably, indirectly, make their way on to the balance sheet at some point.
Apparently you’re unaware that you employ one of the greatest science communicators in the world. Apparently you’re unaware that Dr. Chris Smith will in the space of a week explain to a pensioner in Cape Town why she gets a static shock from her grandson’s t-shirt, and later elicit the clearest explanation of a quantum process from a Nobel Prize winner. The harm you’re wreaking on that fragile space between complex ideas and public understanding will be irreversible.
I listen to every single episode of The Naked Scientist. Chris Smith and his team are simply part of my daily life. The name of the University of Cambridge has been intimately and positively tied up with that experience. I’m part of a legion of listeners of all ages and backgrounds that experience that positivity. There’s no marketing consultancy you could employ that would even come close to the effect that Dr. Smith and the Naked Scientists team has had in promoting the university. I will happily ingest head apparel of your choice if this has been factored into any of the “cost-savings” of making Dr. Smith redundant.
I actually cried in my car yesterday when I heard about this, heavy tears of burning frustration. Two years ago my then 6-year old autistic son, who struggled with verbal communication, sent in a Question of the Week. How many nukes would it take to blow up Jupiter? The kind of outré question that would perhaps get an “I don’t know son” from a distracted parent. The Naked Scientists team got my son to record himself asking the question, then employed the help of University of Cambridge Public Astronomer, Matt Bothwell, to get the question answered. My son’s query was investigated as if he had been a scientist bringing a problem to a team of colleagues. We listened to it in the car on the way to see Santa that year. The pride and confidence in himself has he listened to his question being probed is one of our little family’s happiest core memories. You know what he wants to be when he grows up? A paleontologist. A scientist.
Have you ever listened to Dr. Chris Smith’s contributions to radio in Cape Town? It is a marvel of simple science communication from a seemingly inexhaustible font of knowledge. Dr. Smith in this segment reaches an audience demographic that seems to get much of its science exposure from the toxic viral myths of Facebook. In the space of a friendly chat with the host of the show I have heard Dr. Smith meticulously sterilise harmful misconceptions about health, the environment, and many other subjects where science and the public consciousness intersect. These segments permeate into the wider world through the podcast. We all benefit from that South African crane operator’s fridge-moment voice mail about coronal ejections once Dr. Smith has the .5 seconds he needs to compose his answer.
You are making a mistake. To let Dr. Chris Smith go is to silence one of the greatest voices in science communication. A simple scroll through The Naked Scientists’ archive this morning will show you the quality and calibre of people in all walks of science that Dr. Chris Smith as associated with the good name of the University of Cambridge through the show.
The harm you’re doing won’t appear as a figure on a balance sheet this year. It will eventually show as a hairline crack in the foundations of the University of Cambridge’s reputation that will widen and grow to the point of crumbling.
If you want to help you can find a list of email addresses to write to here.