Introduction
In the United Kingdom, atheism and other forms of nonreligion are often positioned as aligned with science. Recent work has investigated this relationship within professional science (e.g. Johnson and Ecklund 2021), described the ‘social imaginary’ that relates science and nonreligion (Catto et al. 2023) and detailed how atheist and other nonreligious publics identify with ‘science’ (e.g. Jones et al. 2020). In a US context, Scheidt (2021) has explored media representations of atheism and science and discussed the role of these narratives in the ‘practice’ of atheism. In the UK, however, how popular communication influences engagement with science amongst atheist and other nonreligious publics and shapes identities and meaning-making is unexplored. To address this knowledge gap, this paper presents findings from a qualitative study into how UK atheist and nonreligious publics engage with popular science media content, and the role popular media representations of science play in their atheism or nonreligion.
Qualitative interviews (n = 11) reveal UK atheist and other nonreligious people engage with popular science content via a range of media, in diverse formats and for diverse reasons. Popular books and long-form podcasts were preferred for information about science. Television science was primarily engaged with for emotional reasons: as a source of entertainment, and to inspire a set of emotional responses, from awe and wonder to calm and relaxation. Science television programs previously identified as presenting science in a ‘religious’ mode (Mason-Wilkes 2020) serve to reinforce understandings of science as a source of existential meaning amongst some participants. These participants align with some UK science television producers who see their programs as providing ‘creation tales for atheists’ (Mason-Wilkes and Hall 2024). Such programs recapitulate a totalizing grand narrative of creation based on science which some programme makers argue atheists can coalesce around and find meaning in (Mason-Wilkes, 2018). This clear alignment between communicators and audiences can signal successful science communication (Luna Silva and Bering 2022). Nevertheless, for people who view science in these terms, there are potentially problematic consequences for their wider engagement with science as democratic citizens in techno-scientific societies.
Context: Atheism, Science and (Popular) Culture in the UK
Previous work has explored how atheist scientists understand the relationship between their professional identity and their atheism (Johnson and Ecklund 2021). The focus of this paper is instead how media representations of science are understood, engaged with, and identified with by atheists or other nonreligious people who have no (or limited) direct contact with professional science. This distinction is important as popular representations do not necessarily depict science as it is understood or practised within professional cultures of science. Emphasising this, Luna Silva and Bering (2022) distinguish between ‘popular’ and ‘academic’ science. Though popular and academic science directly interact through a porous boundary, popular science is a distinct culture, within which both practitioners and audiences ‘share a specific set of social meanings related to science’ which include ‘non-scientific content, such as values, beliefs, norms, goals, worldviews, identities, and other forms of collective meanings’ (Luna Silva and Bering 2022: 349). Importantly, these are often distinct from those meanings attached to academic science by those working within it. Interrogating the impacts of popular science as a phenomena distinct from academic science is therefore warranted, and vital, given the likely significant and widespread impacts of popular science on publics with limited direct access to the professional cultures of science.
The focus on engagement with popular science by UK atheist and other nonreligious publics is further motivated by UK media and cultures’ positioning science as fundamentally aligned with or sympathetic to nonreligion or atheism. This has been prominently communicated in the last two decades in the work of Richard Dawkins (e.g. Dawkins 2006) but has a much longer history, stretching back through the mid-20th century (Hall and Mason-Wilkes 2024) and beyond (see e.g. Lightman 2007; Corbeil 2019 on this discourse’s 19th century manifestation). This popular discourse is reflected in nonreligious people’s attitudes to science. Jones et al. (2020) show that compared to religious people, nonreligious people identify more strongly with science in terms of its ability to provide an existential worldview. Recent research has shown that nonreligious people align and undergird their nonreligion with a range of ideas from their cultural surroundings, including but not limited to science, in what Cotter (2020) describes as “discursive groupings”.1 Catto and Eccles (2013), however, show that it is science that is often valorised by young atheists when giving accounts of their atheism, whilst in a more recent paper Catto et al. (2023: 98) highlight that ‘science, and evolutionary science specifically can be rallying points for organized nonreligious groups’ defence of science’. In another recent paper, Catto et al. (2023b: 8–9) show the diverse cultural sources which contribute to maintaining the ‘social imaginary’ of science-nonreligion alignment, arguing ‘[f]amily, social relations, education, and wider culture all contribute to connecting science and nonreligion’. Survey-based and social psychological research have identified similar trends, with Elsdon-Baker et al. (2017) showing that whilst 44% of the UK general population feel evolutionary science is important to their identity and worldview, this rises to 60% of those who identify as atheists. Leicht and Sharp (2020) reveal an interesting parallel trend, with atheists who identify more highly with science being more likely to view science and religion as being in conflict. This growing corpus of empirical data demonstrates that some atheist and other nonreligious people make meaningful associations between their nonreligion and science, aligning with broader media and cultural narratives emphasising the affinity of science and nonreligion.
Though atheist and other nonreligious people are most likely to engage with popular (rather than academic) versions of science, where depictions of science-nonreligion affinity are prevalent, nevertheless popular depictions present science in a diversity of ways. Exploring the representation of science in UK television, Mason-Wilkes (2020) argues that some programs present science in a ‘religious’ mode, in contrast to more ‘secular’ depictions of science identifiable in other programs. When presented in a ‘religious’ mode, science provides a grand creation narrative that links all of humanity with the rest of creation and a complete and totalizing explanation of the world and humanity’s place within it. Scientific knowledge is depicted as given to humanity in a revelatory way by nature, whilst science is shown as providing meaning, that is, a sense of existential justification and psychological consolation. In contrast, when depicted in a ‘secular’ mode, science is subject to constant change and revision and provides limited insight into specific (and mundane) questions. In addition, science is shown to require technical skill and expertise to produce knowledge and is an ambiguous endeavour which produces positive and negative individual and societal consequences.2 Of particular relevance to the argument here, is evidence that the ‘religious’ mode of representing science is drawn on for meaning-making and identity formation in secular societies (Mason-Wilkes 2018).
As the emerging empirical data on atheist and nonreligious’ peoples associations between science and key aspects of their identities outlined above attests, these groups may be particularly likely to draw on ‘religious’ representations of science in their meaning-making and identity formation, given the strong associations between atheism and science in popular narratives and communications. This is consequential, because, to return to Luna Silva and Bering’s (2022) formulation, the porous boundary between ‘popular’ and ‘academic’ science means conceptions of ‘popular’ science affect how publics understand and engage with science more broadly. This has potentially profound social consequences for contemporary techno-scientific societies, where citizens need to be able to both trust science and critically hold it to account when necessary to support the continuing functioning of these societies. However, understanding science as it is represented in the religious mode, and founding important facets of identity on this version of science, may preclude individuals from doing so effectively. Further discussion of the points here is precluded by the necessity of presenting key findings, but these arguments will be developed further in the latter sections of the paper.
Research Questions
This paper is guided by three top-level research questions, which emerged out of an iterative process of pre-reflection, formulation, data analysis and iterative reflection on the data (Agee 2009):
- RQ1: How do UK atheist and other nonreligious individuals engage with science via different media and for what purposes?
- RQ2: How do UK atheist or other nonreligious people engage with ‘religious’ modes of representing science in popular media (Mason-Wilkes 2020) and how are these representations used in existential meaning-making?
- RQ3: What are the implications of UK atheists and nonreligious people’s engagement with popular science for their broader role as citizens within techno-scientific democracy?
Answering these research questions necessitated exploration of what kinds of science media participants engaged with and to what purpose, and how participants reacted to and engaged with the kinds of media representations previously reported by Mason-Wilkes (2018; 2020), alongside theoretically informed critical reflections on the implications of this engagement for UK atheist and nonreligious publics, introduced in the Results and Discussion section. This exploration of how various forms of nonreligion are potentially articulated through or in reference to popular culture parallels the work of Stacey (2020), who shows how characters from works of fiction can nevertheless act as role models for nonreligious individuals. As analysis of this project’s data progressed, it became clear that there was an important emotional dimension to how participants engaged with science media content. Participants engaged with science media primarily not to learn about the science it communicated, or to gain knowledge, but because of how it made them feel.
Recent Considerations of Emotions, Feeling and Affect in Science Communication Literature
Much recent research has shifted focus away from knowledge dissemination towards the emotional and affective dimensions of science communication and engagement. Durant (2022) has identified a ‘cultural turn’ in science communication research, with a focus on the emotional or affective dimensions and the ‘meaning-making’ potential of these activities for audiences and communicators. Davies (2019) discusses the role of affect in how publics engage with live science exhibitions, how publics can sometimes resist communicators’ intended or hoped for modes of engagement, and how this involves and is generative of emotional responses to the communicators and their communications. Marsh (2020) has shown the importance emotion plays in terms of online fan communities around science, where emotional registers are used to maintain community identities and police group boundaries. Elsewhere, Hall (2022) has investigated how affect works in locally situated understandings of and engagement with climate change and its messaging. For Hall, better understanding the role affect plays in communication, engagement with and understanding of scientific issues can facilitate more productive interactions between communicators and audiences—in the case of climate change, helping to reduce climate anxiety and foster behaviour change. Affect theory oftens considers the embodied nature of affective experiences (e.g. see Scheer et al. 2019), which, as will be discussed below, were not as readily apparent in the data collected here. Nevertheless, emotion and feeling played a key role in motivating engagement with science television content amongst this project’s participants, who sought this content out primarily to meet a variety of emotional needs. This included the need to be entertained but ranged further from the need to be relaxed to the requirement for awe, and indeed on a more fundamental level, the need for existential meaning; the desire to have convincingly answered the ‘big questions’ about life and existence and to ground one’s sense of self and psychological wellbeing in these explanations (e.g. Taves et al. 2018).
Methods
Data was collected via online semi-structured interviews between May and September 2021.2 Purposive sampling (Schreier 2018) was used to recruit participants who self-identified as atheist or nonreligious and were interested in science and science media. Participants were recruited via adverts posted and shared via the social media platforms Twitter and Facebook, which invited participants to an approximately hour-length, online interview to discuss their atheist or nonreligious identity; science; and science media in exchange for £10 payment, either directly to the participant or to a charity of their choice.3 Interviews were conducted via the video-conferencing platform Zoom.4 Demographic information is presented in Table 1. The findings presented in this paper are based on data from 11 UK-based interviewees.5
Table 1
Participant demographic information.
| PSEUDONYM | AGE | GENDER | LOCATION | HIGHEST QUALIFICATION | SCIENCE EDUCATIONAL LEVEL | OCCUPATION |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Xavier | 35–54 | Male | West Midlands | Undergraduate Degree | University (undergraduate) | Administration |
| Oliver | 18–34 | Male | South East | Undergraduate Degree | University (undergraduate) | IT |
| Peter | 55+ | Male | South East | Master’s Degree | Secondary School | Education |
| Claudia | 35–54 | Female | Scotland | Undergraduate Degree | Secondary School | Education |
| Howard | 55+ | Male | Wales | – | – | Media |
| James | 35–54 | Male | South East | Undergraduate Degree | University (undergraduate) | IT |
| Christine | 35–54 | Female | Scotland | PhD | Secondary School | Education |
| Matthew | 35–54 | Male | South East | Undergraduate Degree | – | IT |
| Ben | 18–34 | Male | Wales | Master’s Degree | University (postgraduate) | Student |
| Kevin | 55+ | Male | South East | Undergraduate Degree | Secondary School | Publishing |
| Simon | 35–54 | Male | Scotland | Undergraduate Degree | – | Education |
The interview covered four broad topics. Participants were first asked about their understandings of and feelings towards science, where these came from, and how they had developed. Second, interviewees discussed their belief position; how they described themselves and why, and how and why this position had been reached. Interviewees were then asked how they understood the relationship between science and religion. Finally, participants were shown clips of two BBC non-fiction science programs previously analysed in Mason-Wilkes (2018; 2020) and discussed their reaction.
Data was reviewed and coded thematically using NVivo. Initial coding followed the interview schedule framework, focusing on the four broad interview topics, but allowing for emergent themes to be captured, following an approach that aligns with e.g. Joffe and Yardley (2004). One of the key benefits of this more open qualitative approach is that it allows for unanticipated or un-sought-after findings to emerge at various stages of the process (Denzin and Lincoln, 2017). In this study, it was during the iterative process of analysis that the importance of emotions and feelings in participant’s engagement with science media emerged in the data.
Results and Discussion
This sections presents key findings which emerged from the qualitative data collection and analysis process, showing how and why UK atheist and nonreligious people engage with different science media content, integrated with theoretically informed critical reflections on the implications of this engagement for their role as citizens in techno-scientific democracies.
Atheist and Nonreligious People’s Engagement with Science Media: The Medium is the Message(?)
McLuhan’s well-known formulation the ‘medium is the message’ (1967) is helpful in understanding how participants engaged with a range of science media content; in different ways depending on the media and format. Participants discussed engaging with long-form books, podcasts, news and current affairs broadcasts, newspaper science content, television programs, films, radio programs, live science events and science festivals. Not every participant engaged with science through all these different media and formats, but there were some notable commonalities in how participants engaged across these media and formats.
Multiple participants emphasised that to increase their knowledge or understanding of a scientific topic or field, or science in general, long-form popular books would be their primary engagement media. Long-form podcasts also served this purpose on occasion. Books (as well as long-form podcasts) were described as providing deep and sophisticated explanations of scientific ideas, and participants were generally keen to emphasise that they desired deep and sophisticated science content. Books were often contrasted with television science, which was described as less able to provide the depth and detail participants required to really learn about a topic. The following quotes from Simon and Peter summarise this view:
Peter: ‘TV tends not to go deeply enough into the areas I want, books do…And sometimes it’s a bit simplistic. I come away feeling, “Well, I sort of knew all of that,” and I want something more. So, that’s why I go to the print books, which are written by scientists, even if for the popular market… [They have] the depth and the accuracy.’
Simon: ‘I prefer reading over watching TV and I feel it depends on how the shows are done, like when I’ve watched Cosmos, for example with Neil [deGrasse-]Tyson and something comes up on it, because it’s truncated into the forty-five minute or hour segment, there’ll be stuff that comes up that I’m like “no, I want to know more about that” and I [have to] go and look it up, whereas if I’ve got a book, you can cram in a lot more information into the book, so I prefer that, and being able to reread and work out my own understanding of things… if you want to dive deeper anyway, I’ve found just over time that I’m better off going with books.’
That participants engaged with these different media technologies in different ways is not surprising if these technologies are viewed as offering different ‘affordances’; qualities which inhere to the technologies and render particular uses more likely or easy to achieve than others (Hutchby 2001). Simon’s response above encapsulates this—television programs are limited in the amount of information they can ‘cram in’ by the historical constraints on the medium to limit programs to a 30 or 60-minute time slot. Books are not constrained in the same way, affording more space for ‘deeper dives’.
Nevertheless, participants engaged with television science communication for other reasons, not to increase their knowledge or understanding, but for its capacity to entertain and for the emotional responses it can inspire. The entertainment potential of science television is summarised by the following quote from Christine:
‘I’m watching it to be entertained. I’m not watching it, necessarily, because I want to go and have a scientific conversation with somebody…You would choose to watch it because it’s entertaining, not because I’m cribbing for an exam …So, it is entertaining, I wouldn’t be using it to study or anything like that.’
Science television provides entertainment value even if the information a program communicates is already familiar. Indeed, participants saw this as part of science television’s appeal, that it could re-present information gained from another source (e.g. a popular book) but in a glossier or more engaging package. In this vein, Simon claimed:
‘…when I get a spare bit of time, and I’ve got a chance to listen to something, then I’ll maybe stick on an episode of Cosmos, but I can then more enjoy it because I’ve gained more of an understanding, so I can just I can just enjoy how it’s all pieced together and how it’s explained.’
Kevin had a similar relationship to television science communication:
‘Things like The Sky at Night or the Brian Cox programs I will certainly watch even though, again it’s with an air, with quite a lot of expert knowledge, but they’re still interesting TV, and they give you ideas, and they’re things that you can talk about with other people as well, but yeah I still find them interesting for sure.’
Alongside its entertainment value, television science communication produces a range of emotional responses, and participants engaged with it to have these kinds of experiences. For Matthew, science programs can have a soothing or relaxing impact:
‘It’s a nice, calming kind of, you know, “Yay.”’
Whereas for Christine, science programs stimulate a kind of existential awe:
‘It’s about the questions it raises. I suppose that’s why I like things like science, like in space, because it makes my brain want to explode, or why I like programs about numbers, because I am not good with numbers…’
Participants engaged with science television because of its capacity to entertain and for its positive emotional impacts. However, analysis of participants responses to the stimulus materials show that only some kinds of television science communication entertain and inspire the sought-after emotional responses.
The Impact of Format
During the interview, video elicitation was undertaken with participants. Each participant was shown one pair of two clips. Each pair was made up of one ‘religious’ representation of science, taken from 2013 BBC Two science documentary series Wonders of Life (henceforth Wonders) and one ‘secular’ representation of science, taken from 2013 BBC One science magazine program Bang! goes the Theory (henceforth Bang) (Mason-Wilkes 2018; 2020). Table 2 summarises each clip’s content. Participants were randomly selected to be shown each pair.
Table 2
Video elicitation clips content summary.
| PAIR 1 – DNA EXTRACTION | PAIR 2 – CLOSING SEQUENCE/PLASTICS | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| WONDERS CLIP | BANG CLIP | WONDERS CLIP | BANG CLIP | |
| Length (mins:secs) | 2:27 | 4:41 | 2:42 | 3:21 |
| Summary | Host Brian Cox uses household items to extract his DNA in a bar in the Sumatran rainforest before discussing DNA’s significance to all life | A mystery fish pie is made before being taken to a fish genetics lab to find out if genetic sequencing can reveal its contents | A complex CGI and visual sequence shows how DNA links all life on earth before Brian Cox discusses the consequences of this for our understanding of the universe and humanity’s place in it | A family are shown the results of tests revealing their exposure to plastic chemicals, before host Maggie Philbin visits Brunel University to discuss the findings of a new report on the emerging and little understood impacts of plastic chemicals in our environment |
Video Elicitation: Sentiment Analysis
Participant reactions to each clip were analysed for the sentiments expressed and rated by the researcher on a nominal 7-point scale. A very positive reaction scored 3, a very negative reaction –3, with 0 representing a mixed reaction.6 Table 3 presents each participant’s score for each clip they watched.
Table 3
Participants sentiments towards video elicitation clips.
| PARTICIPANT | PAIR WATCHED | WONDERS REACTION | BANG REACTION |
|---|---|---|---|
| Claudia | Pair 1 | Positive (2) | Mixed (0) |
| Christine | Positive (2) | Negative (-2) | |
| Ben | Positive (2) | Negative (-2) | |
| Kevin | Very Positive (3) | Positive (2) | |
| Simon | Positive (2) | Very Negative (-3) | |
| Xavier | Pair 2 | Positive (2) | Negative (-2) |
| Oliver | Mixed/negative (-1) | Positive (2) | |
| Peter | Very Positive (3) | Positive (2) | |
| Howard | Mixed/negative (-1) | Mixed/negative (-1) | |
| James | Mixed/positive (1) | Mixed/positive (1) | |
| Matthew | Positive (2) | Very Negative (-3) |
As Table 3 shows, participants were generally more positive about the Wonders clip they viewed than the Bang clip. Pair 1 elicited the most extreme sentiments; positive towards the Wonders clip (sum of all scores: 11) and negative towards the Bang clip (sum of all scores: –5). Reaction to Pair 2 was more mixed, but with the Wonders clip (sum of all scores: 6) still viewed more positively than the Bang clip (sum of all scores: –1).
Understanding Participant’s Sentiments: Production Values and the Presentation of Science
Participants highlighted the divergent ‘production values’ of Wonders and Bang as a key element in their differing responses to the two programs. ‘Production values’ here includes the shoot locations, aesthetic quality of the visuals, use of music and overall audio-visual style. Participants were overwhelmingly positive about Wonders’ production values. In contrast, elements of Bang’s production were mentioned as detracting from the viewing experience, with the music being described as ‘distracting’ and the overall look of the program being described as ‘cheap’ and ‘drab’. The Bang clips were generally compared unfavourably to the more glossy and visually impressive Wonders clips.
Bang’s less-appealing production values detracted from the program’s presentation of science, which was described variously as ‘tabloid’, ‘consumer’, ‘tarted-up’, or particularly in response to the Plastics clip, as ‘sensationalist’. Some participants noted that Bang presented science as addressing mundane or everyday questions, compared to the grand existential or philosophical questions that Wonders presented science as addressing. Participants did however suggest that Bang would potentially engage people not normally interested in science, making its style a valuable mode for communicating science. It was suggested that this style is particularly suitable for BBC science television because of its wide and diverse audience, with participants likewise identifying the BBC as providing legitimation for the program’s content and grounds for believing its information was trustworthy.7
This focus on production values aligns with identified elements of the contrast between ‘secular’ and ‘religious’ modes of presentation characterised in Mason-Wilkes (2018; 2020). ‘Blue Chip’ science programs such as Wonders are made with higher budgets and designed to be broadcast in later timeslots in the television schedule and deploy visual and storytelling devices to appeal to an audience watching at that time. These devices include sumptuous visuals alongside complex narrative arcs, which can result in the repackaging of complex scientific information into the totalising narratives labelled as scientific creation stories. In contrast, programs like Bang are broadcast in earlier timeslots in the schedule, made with much lower budgets, and are designed to appeal to a different audience, more prone to distraction at that time of day. These programs don’t therefore warrant the higher (i.e. more costly) production values of later programs, as they won’t engage their intended audience, and instead employ more journalistic mechanisms to engage. These include shorter and more human-centred narratives, a focus on controversial issues, or the inclusion of on-screen debates, all of which have the effect of more easily foregrounding scientific uncertainty (see Mason-Wilkes and Hall 2024; Mason-Wilkes 2018 for further detail).
Despite recognition of its potential wider value, most participants found Bang’s style of representation personally less enjoyable. Only one participant, Oliver, favoured the Bang clip over the Wonders clip. Oliver enjoyed the presentation of science as a process of discovery which produced novel findings and was critical of the grand claims made in the Wonders clip. Other participants similarly found Bang’s representation of scientific uncertainty welcome. However, another participant, Matthew, was extremely negative about the way the Plastics clip handled scientific uncertainty. He suggested that it was unhelpful, would be too difficult for a general audience to understand and would alienate viewers of the program from science.
Some participants were further critical of Bang’s style of representing science, pointing out that the there was too much information, too much detail and that the information presented was too complex to follow. In comparison with the Wonders DNA clip, participants suggested that the presentation using the complex sequencing machinery made science seem more distant and less relatable. Though describing the topic of the Plastics clip as important, and in a couple of cases as prompting reflection on their own behaviour, this clip was generally described in more negative terms as ‘less-engaging’, ‘less enjoyable’, ‘off-putting’, or even ‘scary’. This view was summarised by Christine:
‘Yes, it’s a bit worthy and also, “We’re going to interview this scientist in a very formatted way.” I don’t know, it just doesn’t appeal.’
Interviewer: ‘and if we’re comparing the two in terms of the production value as well, it doesn’t have that gloss and it looks a bit cheap compared to the ‘Wonders’ stuff?’
Christine: ‘Yes, which makes me incredibly shallow, but I’m watching it for entertainment … and I don’t find it overly engaging.’
Wonders, in its style and production values, was seen as much more obviously engaging than Bang. Participants suggested that Wonders would attract younger viewers to science, including their thirteen- or fourteen-year-old self, or an imagined child of this age. Wonders was described as appealing to a non-specialist audience, and “opening people’s horizons” to science, in a way comparable to a TV travel show opening people’s minds to new places. Some participants conceded that the program did not provide the depth or detail they personally look for in science media content. However, they recognized value in its wide appeal, and due to its look and feel found it comparatively more enjoyable than Bang.
Participants flagged that Wonders raised ‘big’ or ‘philosophical’ questions, and presented science as being addressed towards these kinds of questions, as opposed to the more mundane applications of science in Bang. This aspect of the representation was highlighted for both Wonders clips, but some participants were critical of this kind of representation in the Closing Sequence clip. Howard and Oliver described the presentation as ‘didactic’ or as making claims which were too ‘grand’ and ‘sweeping’ and both reacted negatively as a result. However, other participants were much more positive about this aspect of the representation, particularly as it served to reinforce their own beliefs about the role of science and its explanatory power.
Religious Metaphors and Worldview Alignment
Participants had not been made aware of the previously formulated analytic categories of ‘religious’ and ‘secular’ modes of presentation, nevertheless two participants, Howard and Matthew, used explicitly religious concepts in their discussion of Wonders:
Howard: ‘It is like a good sermon isn’t it, you see, you know with that choral music there as well, and a nice little kind of Eden’
Matthew: ‘To compare it to religion, it’s like listening to a really nice sermon…’
Given the interview’s general focus on science, religion and their relationship, that participants had this kind of concept near at hand is not necessarily surprising. Despite this, the sentiments which accompanied these metaphors were not uniform, or always as expected. For Howard, this comparison led to a more negative perception of the clip (criticizing it as ‘didactic’), but Matthew saw this as less problematic going on to say:
‘…you know, it’s done really well. He understands the topics and so he’s able to present them in a way to help other people to try to understand them. Yes. I would answer, “Yes, I like that stuff. It’s nice”.’
Despite using a religious metaphor to describe Wonders, Matthew still claimed to enjoy the program overall. Indeed, part of the program’s appeal for Matthew was the way its communication was packaged, a style characteristic of a religious setting deployed in the communication of science.
Some participants described enjoyment of Wonders that was deeper still. Peter, for instance, was very positive about the production values and style of Wonders clip he viewed. But alongside this, most appealing to Peter was that Wonders’ reinforced his fundamental understandings of and beliefs about the world.
Peter: ‘I enjoyed it very much—the idea expressed in that clip is just so delicious, that humanity is demonstrably connected to all life on the planet…that we are cousins with the most remote piece of life that we’ve ever found, we’re literally cousins, and isn’t that just great, more awe-inspiring than to say ‘oh god created all the animals and then created man and then created woman’, I think this is just so much more satisfying—so yeah I liked that clip I like those programs, I like the way Brian Cox thinks about it, his words chime with what is in my head about the universe.’
Peter’s view was echoed by Howard. While he was personally ambivalent about the representation, Howard described a close friend who had expressed a positive reaction similar to Peter’s. For Howard’s friend, the representation of science in this clip aligned with and reinforced her beliefs.
Howard: ‘I saw a lady friend of mine who is really an old hippie, she’s one of the originals from when they were doing folk songs on barges. And she really liked that. She felt that he confirmed her views. The phrasing he used – it made her happy. She felt that finally, the world has come to meet us, us hippies, as it were. (Laughter) She liked it.’
Emphasizing the existential nature of the ideas Wonders’ reinforced, later in the same discussion Howard continued:
‘My friend – she died. But, if she carried that through the rest of her days, it made her feel happy…’
Both Peter and Howard saw this aspect of the program as vital to its appeal, at least for some viewers. It provided these viewers with a narrative reinforcing their fundamental views about the world, helping them to make sense of their experiences and find comfort and consolation in this knowledge (Berger and Luckmann 1991).
Science Media Engagement, Uncertainty and the Role of Citizen in Techno-Scientific Democracy
Across the small sample of UK atheist and other nonreligious people discussed here, there are a diversity of ways of engaging with science media content, and a diverse range of reactions to two different styles of television science communication. Depending on the format and media, popular science content is engaged with; (1) to learn more about science; (2) as resource to draw on in conversation; (3) to reinforce what is already known or has been learnt elsewhere about science; and (4) for emotional reasons. Science television specifically provides a source of entertainment and is valued for the emotional responses it can inspire, from calm and relaxation to awe and wonder.
Understanding participants diverse expectations for different media formats resolves an apparent tension between participants’ stated desire for and enjoyment of science media content which provides deep and detailed scientific information, and the criticism that Bang presented too much information, had too high a level of detail, or assumed too high a level of pre-existing knowledge. This criticism makes sense in light of participants’ views on television science as bad for communicating scientific information. Though never explicitly framed in this way, the data presented here suggests that participants would see a scientifically detailed television program as ill-equipped to increase the understanding of science in a general audience. This is particularly the case for the general audience participants expected to be appealed to by the “sensationalist”, “tabloid science” of Bang, who participants envisaged as being less interested in and informed of science. This aligns with the function participants saw science television as serving; as primarily a source of entertainment. In the case of Bang, the additional detailed information was another aspect of the program, along with its cheap production values and lack of relatability, that made it less engaging and entertaining. Future research should investigate further how audiences engage with science communication across different media and what value they see in increased or decreased levels of information across different media and formats.8
An additional explanatory factor in participants responses may relate to how each program depicted scientific uncertainty. Bang, in its more journalistic style, foregrounded uncertainty more predominantly than Wonders. Some participants argued that by presenting more established knowledge Wonders deemphasized scientific uncertainty and should not be described as presenting ‘science’. However, other participants criticised Bang for presenting ‘too much’ uncertainty, which could leave an audience with too much to interpret. This critique of Bang’s depiction of uncertainty may therefore be indicative of some participants greater comfortability with a version of science where uncertainty is less central. Some participants were critical of the ‘didactic’ messaging, and the ‘grand’ and ‘sweeping’ claims in Wonders. Others, however, despite recognizing and rearticulating characteristics commonly associated with religion in Wonders’ representation of science, did not reject it, instead overall viewing it favourably compared to Bang.
This embrace of a depiction which elides scientific uncertainty reached its apotheosis amongst those participants who saw Wonders depiction of science as aligning with and reinforcing key elements of their existential worldview. For these participants Wonders reinforced a set of fundamental beliefs and understandings about the universe, and humanity’s place within it and this was recognized (either personally or vicariously) as a key motivation for and benefit from engaging with its representation of science. The ‘religious’ mode of representation thus not only ascribe characteristics commonly associated with religion to science, but for these participants may be functioning in a religious way as well (Berger 2011).
These participants are seemingly aligned with some non-fiction science television producers who see themselves as producing “creation tales for atheists”. The following quotation is from an executive producer, with extensive experience in UK science television, producing content for the BBC and other national and international networks. He described the programs he has made in the following terms:
‘I like to think of the shows we do quite often as sort of creation tales for atheists, so I’m an atheist and I think a lot of people are these days, and we have our own narrative, we have a creation narrative, a really amazing one from the big bang, all the physics, and into genetics, and biology and evolution… so all the stuff in Genesis, we have a story, but a better story actually to tell from the moment the universe began to now, so I like to think a lot of the films we make, they’re sort of creation tales for atheists, narratives of how we got here, people are very interested in that.’ (Mason-Wilkes 2018: 273)
This alignment between the intent of some producers and how some viewers engage with this kind of science media content prompts reflection on the wider impacts of science communication and engagement of this sort. Specifically, representations of science which downplay scientific uncertainty may hinder those audiences whose worldviews align with these representations from productively engaging with science in different settings and in different roles. As citizens in democracy, these audiences must make techno-scientifically inflected decisions under conditions of scientific and socio-political uncertainty (Collins and Evans 2017), which may be challenging if their worldview is founded on a version of science where uncertainty is largely absent.
In this vein, recent scholarship (Hodson et al 2022; Mason-Wilkes 2023), has emphasized the importance of communicating scientific uncertainty to equip publics with an understanding of science to facilitate productive science-citizen engagement in techno-scientific societies. Collins et al. (2020) argue that science is a bulwark institution in democracies, and eroding public confidence in science is a key method by which populist and authoritarian political movements seek to undermine democracy. To resist these attempts, Collins et al. (2020) argue that citizens must be able to both hold science to account when required but also trust science. To do both, citizens require an understanding of and appreciation of key aspects of science, including scientific uncertainty (Collins et al. 2020; Hodson et al 2022; Mason-Wilkes 2023).
Hodson et al. (2022) argue that public communication should be ‘reasonably transparent’ when communicating the uncertainty of science. Consistent ‘reasonably transparent’ communication of scientific uncertainty helps embed understanding that scientific knowledge changes over time:
‘As part of this reasoned transparency, our data suggest that audiences may benefit from being primed to expect change, so that when change does occur, it satisfies expectancy heuristics and supports a positive response… In other words, reasoned transparency includes anticipating potential responses from the public to new messaging, and tailoring communication accordingly.’ (Hodson et al. 2022: 10)
Key here is the recognition that science communication does not happen in a vacuum and audiences bring to bear diverse framings and interpretive baggage to any new piece of communication. For Hodson et al. (2022: 10) ‘[c]ontexts, such as an audience’s heuristic traditions, levels of scepticism, and cultural influence, need to inform communication efforts’. Likewise, Hall (2022: 9) emphasises the importance of ‘local cultures’ and ‘folkloric traditions (which) enmesh their histories, their traumas, and their very environments’ in shaping perceptions of and engagement with science communications.
How atheist and nonreligious publics in the UK understand and engage with scientific uncertainty in media communications, and likewise how they think it is best communicated, is complex. The data presented here suggests that the impacts of ‘reasonably transparent’ communication of scientific uncertainty—as exemplified by Bang’s representation—on UK atheist and nonreligious publics’ engagement with science are not straightforward. Participant’s reactions to Bang involved both personal assessments of its entertainment value, as well as deeper considerations around it’s alignment with their understanding of science and its role in their world views, as well as forms of social projection in assessing how best to present scientific knowledge to diverse groups (Elsdon-Baker and Lightman 2020). These ‘first and second-order’ (Riley 2022) considerations shape both engagement with science media content and affective responses to this content amongst participants. Crucially, this communication of scientific uncertainty may be contentious for some precisely because it may undermine a worldview where science, understood as having characteristics usually associated with religion (i.e. as being definitive, certain and totalizing), plays a fundamental and existential role.
Conclusion
Some UK nonreligious and atheist television viewers and television science communicators agree on the role of some non-fiction science television programs. These programs provide entertainment, engage an audience on an emotional level and reinforce a set of understandings of and answers to big existential questions. For these viewers, the emotional payoff is a primary motivation for, and benefit of, engaging with science television communication. The data presented here align with Silva Luna and Bering’s (2022) categorization, in a clear case of communicators and audiences coalescing around a shared vision of ‘popular science’ and attaching to it a set of meanings distinct from ‘academic science’. This is arguably a successful example of science communication, geared towards serving a specific but apparently well-understood audience, which has successfully engaged and satisfied that audience. For media content producers on their own terms this would likely be counted a success (Mason-Wilkes and Hall 2024). Likewise, in other areas, this kind of engagement with science content has been welcomed (e.g. Hall 2022).
The implications of this for both science communicators and atheist and nonreligious publics are multifaceted. Clearly emotional motivations can stimulate diverse groups’ engagement with science media content. This emotionally-driven engagement could potentially be seen as providing an avenue for nonreligious enchantment (Beaman 2021). Indeed, as the data presented here shows, some atheist and nonreligious people build ‘scientific’ explanations into their world-ordering and meaning-making, and reinforce their worldview through engagement with science media content which depicts science as a suitable foundation for this existential work. Nevertheless, this kind of engagement can have potentially problematic consequences for atheist and nonreligious publics’ understanding of scientific uncertainty and their subsequent engagement with science. Atheist and other nonreligious people who bolster their worldview through engagement with media depictions that elide scientific uncertainty may be less equipped to productively engage with science in ways necessary in their role as citizens in techno-scientific societies. Clearly a project of this size and scope can only begin to trace the outlines of such potentially complex and wide-ranging societal issues. Further research should explore the variety of ways atheists and nonreligious people engage with popular science media, how emotion is implicated in these engagements and how it might be leveraged to engage publics with science in ways which benefit the functioning of democratic societies.
Notes
[1] This variety of discursive groupings was also evident in my data, with participants for instance also discussing their nonreligion in reference to specific political ideologies, and seeing these as justifying their nonreligious position. A full discussion of this is however beyond the scope of this paper.
[2] Fieldwork and associated materials received ethical approval via the University of Birmingham’s Application for Ethical Review process, under the code ERN_20-1866.
[3] More detail on the justification for use of the terms ‘religious’ and ‘secular’ to describe these different representational styles is provided in Mason-Wilkes (2018, ch. 1). Briefly, the combination of the specific representational devices of a totalizing creation story (Hopfe and Woodward 2008), science having explanatory omni-competence (Midgley 2002), information provided through revelation rather than intervention in nature and this information being certain, and science as being able to provide meaning (e.g. Berger 2011) meant that the most appropriate descriptor was ‘religious’ as no other descriptor seemed to capture as well this specific combination of attributes. ‘Secular’ was selected for the other representation as it contrasted with the religious representation in important ways, but also was intended to emphasize the value of this kind of representation for a secular democratic society—this normative position will be discussed further below.
[4] As Table 1 shows, some participants did not provide all requested information.
[5] Given the different cultural and media contexts experienced by non-UK based participants, it was decided to focus on just the UK-based participant data due to comparatively more uniform socio-cultural experience.
[6] This follows an approach developed in Collins, Leonard-Clarke and Mason-Wilkes (2023).
[7] A deeper exploration of this issue is beyond the scope of this paper, but could potentially contribute to ongoing debates about the role of Public Service Broadcasting in shaping public’s understanding of, engagement with and trust in science e.g. as evidenced under COVID-19 pandemic conditions (e.g. Fedkte et al. 2021; Adam et al. 2023).
[8] Alternatively, criticizing the level of detail may simply have been a method participants found for vocalizing a general dislike of the program. Procedural factors may also have played a role, as the Bang clip was always shown after the Wonders clip, and anchoring bias could have meant that participants preferred the first clip they viewed, and found fault with the second clip on various grounds (e.g. Wilson et al. 1996). Similarly, the clips were viewed towards the end of an hour-long interview, so fatigue may have also played a role in participants more negative sentiments (Gubrium and Holstein 2003).
Acknowledgements
This work was made possible via generous funding from the International Research Network for the Study of Science and Belief in Society (INSBS), to whom the author offers thanks. A version of this paper was presented at the ISTEMMICS Nexus reading group, and the author wishes to thank colleagues Deborah Cohen, Dr Rebecca Hughes, Dr Adam Michael Packer and Dr Saleema Burney for their engagement with the arguments in the piece. Further thanks are offered to Dr Caroline McCalman, Dr Mike Brownutt and Professor John Holmes for their insightful feedback and comments on an early draft. The author extends further thanks to Dr James Riley for this reading of multiple drafts, and deep and enthusiastic engagement with the ideas presented in the paper.
