来源：《自然》
刊登日期：2021年5月11日
When materials scientist Anna Ploszajski took up science communication, she found that the more she discussed her research with others, the less she could answer their questions. She knew all about the molecular interactions that give materials their strength, flexibility or hardness, but she couldn’t tell her friends and family about the best alternative to plastic, or why phone screens are made from glass even though it’s prone to smashing. To address these gaps in her knowledge, she got hands-on, exploring how artisans interact with substances that she knew only in theory.
当材料科学家安娜·普洛萨耶斯基开始从事科学传播时，她发现与他人讨论研究越多，回答他们问题的能力就越弱。她对赋予材料强度、柔韧性或硬度的分子相互作用了如指掌，但她无法告诉她的朋友和家人塑料的最佳替代品，也无法告诉他们为什么手机屏幕是由易碎的玻璃制成的。为了弥补这些知识上的空白，她亲自动手，探索工匠如何与她只在理论上知道的物质打交道。
In Handmade, Ploszajski investigates ten materials. She starts with the classic categories of her field: glass, plastic, metals such as steel and brass. She then moves on to materials common in making and crafts, and less often considered in the laboratory: sugar, wool, wood, paper and stone. She tries glass-blowing, pottery, steel casting, knitting and spoon carving; learns about plastic art and trumpet-making; and gains a holistic perspective on objects to which she had never given a second thought. The efforts bring an understanding of the properties and cultural impact of materials that helps her to communicate more clearly.
在《手工》一书中，Ploszajski调查了10种材料。她从自己研究领域的经典类别入手：玻璃、塑料、钢铁和黄铜等金属。然后，她转向了制造和手工艺中常见的、但在实验室中不常考虑的材料：糖、羊毛、木材、纸和石头。她尝试吹玻璃、制陶、铸钢、编织和雕木勺；学习造型艺术和小号制作；并获得了对她从未想过的事物的整体视角。这些努力让她理解了材料的属性和文化影响，帮助她更清晰地进行沟通。
Ploszajski describes the history of each material’s use, with snippets of tradition and archaeology from around the globe — ranging from 3,000-year-old ancient Egyptian knitted socks to wind-operated furnaces in Iron Age Sri Lanka. And she offers anecdotes about what the materials have meant to her: her immigrant grandfather’s plastics-manufacturing business; the sugary snacks that got her through a swim across the English Channel. The result is fascinating and affecting.
Under ‘Steel’, Ploszajski describes how, as an undergraduate, she won a place on a team building a vehicle to tackle a land-speed record. She worked out that gears in the car’s engine were breaking under stress owing to carbon atoms clumping inside the metal. But, lacking the confidence to share her ideas with the older, male mechanics, she was unable to apply the understanding in a practical way that could help the team to reach its goal.
This disconnect between doing good science and presenting it in the way that people need has become all too obvious during the COVID-19 pandemic. Researchers can understand the mechanisms of infection, produce effective vaccines and report compelling epidemiological data. Yet without an appreciation of why people cannot or will not take vaccines, the findings might not help people.
Ploszajski’s experiences also shine light on how people shape research. Scientists aim for objectivity, but often forget that their experiences and culture affect every aspect of their work. Just as the grain of a piece of wood dictates the shape of the spoon that Ploszajski carves, the structure of a society dictates the research questions that scholars pursue. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; trouble arrives when researchers forget that their approaches are shaped by their circumstances. Similarly, Ploszajski, a trumpet player since childhood, learns with surprise that the instruments are not always made of brass; some players prefer the sound produced by silver or copper.