It’s a question without easy or simple answers. Policy makers come in different forms and types, and gaining their attention depends on many variables — such as a country’s political system, governance processes, level of bureaucracy and also timing.
I revisited this question this week when speaking to a group of young (early to mid-career) researchers from across South Asia who want to study many facets of global change. They were brought together at a regional workshop held in in Paro, Bhutan, by the Asia-Pacific Network for Global Change Research (APN) and the National Environment Commission of the Royal Government of Bhutan.
Titled as the ‘Proposal Development Training Workshop (PDTW)’ and held from 14 to 16 December 2016, PDTW aimed “to raise awareness of APN among early career scientists and practitioners, and to increase the capacity to develop competitive proposals for submission to APN”.
The workshop involved two dozen researchers and half a dozen mentors. I was the sole mentor covering the important aspect of communicating research.
I urged researchers to try and better understand the imperfect, often unpredictable conditions in which South Asia’s policy makers operate.
Researchers and activists who would like to influence various public policies. Everyone is looking for strategies and engagement methods. The policy cycle cannot run according to text book ideals when governments have to regularly cope with economic uncertainties, political upheavals and social unrest, etc.
Imagine what keeps your policy makers awake at night, I suggested. Are they worried about balance of payment, disaster responses or a Parliamentary majority? How can research findings, while being evidence based, help solve problems of economic development and governance?
I also suggested that researchers should map out the information behaviour of their policy makers: where do they get info to act on? Is there a way research findings can be channeled to policy makers through some of these sources – such as the media, professional bodies and international development partners?
I suggested two approaches to communicating research outcomes to policy makers: directly, using own publications and/or social media; and indirectly by working with and through the media.
Finally, I shared some key findings of a global study in 2012 by SciDev.Net (where I was an honorary trustee for nearly a decade) which looked at the different contextual settings within which policy makers, the private sector, NGOs, media organisations and the research community operate to better understand how to mainstream more science and technology evidence for development and poverty reduction purposes.
One of my favourite cartoons on energy was drawn by Australian cartoonist Ron Tandberg. It shows two men standing on a bare land and looking intently at the ground. Says one to the other: “There must be a source of energy down there!”
Overhead, meanwhile, the sun looms large and blazes away…
For too long, despite living on a tropical island, most of us have looked everywhere for our energy needs — except skywards. Is that about to change? Is the government’s new solar power drive likely to be a game changer?
Plugging to the sun is not entirely new: Sri Lanka has taken an interest in solar photovoltaic (PV) technology for over 40 years. The earliest PVs – which can turn sunlight into electricity — were installed in the village of Pattiyapola, in the Southern Province, where the United Nations set up a rural energy demonstration centre in 1975.
Those early prototypes had many problems which were fixed within a few years. By the mid-1980s, small, stand-alone solar PV units came on the market. This time, it was private companies that promoted these while the government’s power utility (CEB) was mildly interested.
In the late 1980s, three entrepreneurs – Lalith Gunaratne, Viren Perera and Pradip Jayewardene – pioneered local assembling and marketing of solar PVs. Their company, initially called Power & Sun (Pvt) Ltd, offered simple, easy-to-use solar units for rural homes that were not yet connected to the grid.
Branded as SUNTEC, their basic solar unit could power five light bulbs plus a radio and a (black and white) TV set. The introductory price in 1988 was LKR 7,000 (bulbs and battery cost extra). At the time, two thirds of all households did not have electricity so this generated much interest.
Grassroots Revolution
Power & Sun not only sold domestic solar units, but also ran rural workshops that trained youth on the basics of solar energy and equipment maintenance. By reaching out to the grassroots through innovative marketing schemes and tech support, the SUNTEC team ushered in a quiet revolution.
They not only provided clean, safe and cheap energy to rural homes but in that process, also raised people’s aspirations. They were no longer beholden to politicians with promises of ‘gamata light’ (electricity for the village), a common but often unfulfilled promise. (Read full Suntec story at: http://tiny.cc/SunTec)
During the 1990s, other companies — and non-profits such as Sarvodaya and SoLanka — entered the domestic solar market. The World Bank came up with a credit mechanism for solar units through SEEDS, the economic arm of Sarvodaya. Thanks to these efforts, over 100,000 homes adopted solar PV within a dozen years.
“The establishment of community-based solar photovoltaic programmes by non-governmental organizations…has developed a novel approach to bridge the gap between this state-of-the-art technology and the remotely located end-users,” wrote Lalith Gunaratne, a pioneer in off-grid domestic solar power, in 1994.
But the early appeal of solar PV diminished as rural electrification intensified. In some areas, families who had taken loans for their solar PVs defaulted repayment after the grid reached them. Sarvodaya, for example, was left with lots of half-paid loans and second hand solar units.
Nonetheless, that first phase of solar energy promotion holds valuable lessons still relevant today. For example, it’s not simply a matter of promoting PV technology but providing a package of training, maintenance support and on-going engagement with solar consumers.
Scaling up
While off-grid solar PV can still offer energy solutions to specific, isolated locations, a second solar revolution is urgently needed in cities and towns. It is the higher consuming homes, offices and other buildings that most drive the electricity demand which keeps rising by about 9% each year.
Bulk of the country’s electricity is generated using large scale hydro or thermal power plants (burning either oil or coal). The ratios vary from year to year according to data tracked by the regulator, the Public Utilities Commission of Sri Lanka (PUCSL). In a year of good rainfall, such as 2013, 50% of all electricity was generated using hydro, and another 9.85% through non-conventional renewables (NCR) like mini-hydro, wind, biomass and solar. Less than half came from thermal plants.
But in 2014, the last year for which PUCSL data has been released, hydro’s share dropped to 29.4% and NCR share remained about the same. The balance (over 60%) was generated by CEB’s oil or coal plants, complemented by private power producers burning oil.
The fuel bill weighs heavily on the country’s already overburdened budget. Low petroleum prices since 2014 have helped, but that is not a bankable option in the long term.
“Sri Lanka annually imports 2 MMT of crude oil, 4 MMT of refined petroleum products and 2.25 MMT of coal. This costs approximately 5 billion USD and covers 44% of the energy requirements. It also accounts to 25% of the import expenditure and almost 50% of the total export income,” wrote Chatura Rodrigo, research economist with the Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) in August 2015. (Petroleum also supports the transport sector that relies almost totally on this fuel source.)
Burning petroleum and coal also contributes to global warming and causes local air pollution – more reasons for phasing them down.
For all these reasons, scaling up NCR’s share of electricity generation mix is thus receiving more attention. This can happen at both power plant level (e.g. with wind power plants that could tap an estimated 400MW potential in Mannar), and also at household levels.
Decentralised solar power
Encouraging consumers to self-generate part of their electricity from renewables received a boost in 2009 with the introduction in net metering. This allows private individuals or companies to supply their surplus power – usually generated by solar panels — to the national grid, for which they receive ‘credits’ or rebates from the monthly bill. A two-way electricity meter enables this process.
During the past few years, hundreds of households and businesses have vastly reduced their electricity bills through this method. However, this made economic sense only to high end electricity users as the initial investment remained high.
The new solar energy drive, announced in August 2016, intends to change this. Known as “Soorya Bala Sangramaya” (Battle for Solar Energy), it is expected to make at least 20% of electricity consumers to also generate electricity using solar panels – they will be able to sell their excess to the national grid under a guaranteed tariff.
The new scheme will introduce two new concepts, viz:
Net Accounting, where a consumer will get paid in money if her solar-generated power is greater than what is consumed from the grid. Tariff is set at LKR 22 per unit (1 kilo Watt hour) for the first 7 years, and at LKR 15.50 thereafter.
Net Plus, where there is no link between how much electricity the consumer users from the grid (for which billing will happen), and how much of solar-generated electricity is supplied to the grid (which will be paid in full at the above rates).
The government’s plan is to add 220 MW of clean power from NCR to the country’s energy grid by 2020, which is about 10% of the country’s current daily electricity demand. Another 1,000 MW is to be added by 2025.
The solar PV technology market will be left to multiple private sector suppliers. In a recent TV talk show, deputy minister of power Ajith C Perera said national standards would soon be set for solar panels and associated technology.
Balancing acts
Currently, installing 1 kWh of solar generation capacity costs around LKR 200,000. Investing this much upfront will only make sense for those consuming 200 kWh or more. Under the current, multi-tier tariff system, those consuming up to 30 units of electricity a month pay LKR 7.85 per unit while those above 180 units have to pay LKR 45 per unit.
How much and how fast Soorya Bala Sangramaya can energise the solar PV market remains to be seen. The Ministry of Power is talking to banks to encourage easy credit. PUCSL will need to monitor these trends to ensure consumers’ interests are safeguarded.
Promising as they are, renewables are not a panacea for all energy our needs. Some limitations apply, such as cloudy days that reduce sunshine and dips in wind blowing. Their contribution to the grid needs to be balanced by power from more conventional sources. At least until storage systems get better.
“Renewables have an important role in any developing country energy mix as a part of the national energy supply security strategies,” says Lalith Gunaratne. “Yet, thermal energy technologies like oil, coal and gas will not go away in a hurry. Most of them, unless we have large hydro, will provide base load power from large centralised stations for two or three more decades.”
The energy sector can become a sink for large volumes of public and private funds — unless there is an effective regulatory process.
Sri Lanka’s first Science and Technology for Society (STS) Forum took place from 7 to 10 September in Colombo. Organized by the Prime Minister’s Office and the Ministry of Science, Technology and Research, it was one of the largest gatherings of its kind to be hosted by Sri Lanka.
Modelled on Japan’s well known annual STS forums, the event was attended by over 750 participants coming from 24 countries – among them local and foreign scientists, inventors, science managers, science communicators and students.
I was keynote speaker during the session on ‘Using Social Media for Discussing Science Topics’. I used it to highlight how social media have become both a boon and bane for scientific information and thinking in Sri Lanka. This is due to peddlers of pseudo-science, anti-science and superstition being faster and better to adopt social media platforms than actual scientists, science educators and science communicators.
Sri Lanka takes justified pride in its high literacy levels and equally high coverage of vaccination against infectious diseases. But we cannot claim to have a high level of scientific literacy. If we did, it would not be so easy for far-fetched conspiracy theories to spread rapidly even among educated persons. Social media tools have ‘turbo-charged’ the spread of associated myths, superstitions and conspiracy theories!
I cautioned: “Unless we make scientific literacy an integral part of everyone’s lives, ambitious state policies and programmes to modernize the nation could well be jeopardized. Progress can be undermined — or even reversed — by extremist forces of tribalism, feudalism and ultra-nationalism that thrive in a society that lacks the ability to think critically.”
It is not a case of all doom and gloom. I cited examples of private individuals creatively using social media to bust myths and critique all ‘sacred cows’ in Lankan society – including religions and military. These voluntary efforts contrast with much of the mainstream media cynically making money from substantial advertising from black magic industries that hoodwink and swindle the public.
My PowerPoint presentation:
Video recording of our full session:
The scoping note I wrote for our session:
Session: Using Social Media for Discussing Science Topics
With 30 per cent of Sri Lanka’s 21 million people regularly using the Internet, web-based social media platforms have become an important part of the public sphere where myriad conversations are unfolding on all sorts of topics and issues. Facebook is the most popular social media outlet in Sri Lanka, with 3.5 million users, but other niche platforms like Twitter, YouTube and Instagram are also gaining ground. Meanwhile, the Sinhala and Tamil blogospheres continue to provide space for discussions ranging from prosaic to profound. Marketers, political parties and activist groups have discovered that being active in social media is to their advantage.
Some science and technology related topics also get discussed in this cacophony, but given the scattered nature of conversations, it is impossible to grasp the full, bigger picture. For example, some individuals or entities involved in water management, climate advocacy, mental health support groups and data-driven development (SDG framework) are active in Sri Lanka’s social media platforms. But who is listening, and what influence – if any – are these often fleeting conservations having on individual lifestyles or public policies?
Is there a danger that self-selecting thematic groups using social media are creating for themselves ‘echo chambers’ – a metaphorical description of a situation in which information, ideas, or beliefs are amplified or reinforced by transmission and repetition inside an “enclosed” system, where different or competing views are dismissed, disallowed, or under-represented?
Even if this is sometimes the case, can scientists and science communicators afford to ignore social media altogether? For now, it appears that pseudo-science and anti-science sentiments – some of it rooted in ultra-nationalism or conspiracy theories — dominate many Lankan social media exchanges. The keynote speaker once described this as Lankan society permanently suspending disbelief. How and where can the counter-narratives be promoted on behalf of evidenced based, rational discussions? Is this a hopeless task in the face of irrationality engulfing wider Lankan society? Or can progressive and creative use of social media help turn the tide in favour of reason?
This panel would explore these questions with local examples drawn from various fields of science and skeptical enquiry.
Sri Lanka’s first Science and Technology for Society (STS) Forum took place from 7 to 10 September in Colombo. Organized by the Prime Minister’s Office and the Ministry of Science, Technology and Research, it is one of the largest gatherings of its kind to be hosted by Sri Lanka.
What sets STS Forums apart is that they are not merely events where scientists talk to each other. That surely will happen, but there will be many more voices and, hopefully, much broader conversations.
In this week’s Ravaya column (in Sinhala, appearing in the print issue of 11 Sep 2016), I look at Sri Lanka’s appalling lack of scientific literacy.
As Dr Neil deGrasse Tyson, American astrophysicist, cosmologist and science communicator, says, “Scientific literacy is an intellectual vaccine against the claims of charlatans who would exploit ignorance.”
Sri Lanka takes justified pride in its high literacy levels and equally high coverage of vaccination against infectious diseases. But we cannot claim to have a high level of scientific literacy.
A healthy dose of scepticism is essential to safeguard ourselves from superstitions, political claims and increasingly sophisticated – but often dishonest – product advertising. That’s what scientific literacy builds inside our minds.
I argue that unless we make scientific literacy an integral part of everyone’s lives, ambitious state policies and programmes to modernize the nation could well be jeopardized. Progress can be undermined — or even reversed — by extremist forces of tribalism, feudalism and ultra-nationalism that thrive in a society that lacks the ability to think critically.
Scientific Literacy: ‘Mind Vaccine’ Sri Lanka Urgently Needs
By Nalaka Gunawardene
Sri Lanka’s first Science and Technology for Society (STS) Forum will take place from 7 to 10 September in Colombo. Organized by the Prime Minister’s Office and the Ministry of Science, Technology and Research, it is one of the largest gatherings of its kind to be hosted by Sri Lanka.
Modelled on Japan’s well known annual STS forums, this event will be attended by over 750 participants coming from 24 countries – among them will be local and foreign scientists, inventors, science managers, science communicators and students.
What sets STS Forums apart is that they are not merely events where scientists talk to each other. That surely will happen, but there will be many more voices and, hopefully, much broader conversations.
As a member of the content planning team for this event, my particular focus has been on the strand called “citizen science” – interpreted, in this instance, as activities that enhance the public understanding of science and technology.
Under this strand, there will be four sessions that explore: community involvement in science and research; informal science education for the 21st century; communicating science, technology and innovation; and using social media for discussing science.
At first glance, these topics don’t seem as exciting as nanotechnology, robotics and space technology that are being covered in other sessions. But I would argue that public engagement is the most decisive factor if science and technology are to play a significant role in the economic development and future prosperity of Sri Lanka.
Wanted: Mind Vaccines!
Public engagement of science goes well beyond teaching science and technology subjects in schools or universities. It is also bigger than (state or private sector driven) science centres, exhibitions or science content in the media. All these elements help, but at its most basic, what we need to promote is a way of thinking known as scientific literacy.
Scientific literacy is defined as “the knowledge and understanding of scientific concepts and processes required for personal decision making, participation in civic and cultural affairs, and economic productivity”.
Indeed, some basic scientific knowledge and technical skills have become essential for survival in the 21st century. But scientific literacy provides more than just utility benefits.
As Dr Neil deGrasse Tyson, American astrophysicist, cosmologist and science communicator, says, “Scientific literacy is an intellectual vaccine against the claims of charlatans who would exploit ignorance.”
Sri Lanka takes justified pride in its high literacy levels and equally high coverage of vaccination against infectious diseases. But we cannot claim to have a high level of scientific literacy.
If we did, it would not be so easy for far-fetched conspiracy theories to spread rapidly even among educated persons. For example, claims of an ‘infertility plot’ to make majority ethnic group lose its ability to reproduce. Or tales of miracle waters and ‘cosmic forces’ healing those terminally ill. Or alien spacecraft (allegedly) threatening national security…
It is customary to temporarily suspend our disbelief to enjoy films, novels and other creative art forms. But most of us don’t confuse fiction with fact, even with highly plausible scenarios.
These inconvenient questions are worth asking, if only to make us pause and think.
Sleepwalking Nation?
Half a century ago, a Kerala-born science teacher named Dr Abraham Thomas Kovoor (1898 – 1978) settled down in newly independent Ceylon. After retirement, he took to investigating so-called supernatural phenomena and paranormal practices. He found adequate physical or psychological explanations for almost all of them. In that process, he exposed many ‘god men’ who were thriving on people’s ignorance, gullibility and insecurities.
Dr Kovoor, who founded Ceylon Rationalist Association in 1960, summed it up in these words: “He who does not allow his miracles to be investigated is a crook; he who does not have the courage to investigate a miracle is gullible; and he who is prepared to believe without verification is a fool.”
Most Lankans would fall into one of these three categories – and the minority with open minds are under ‘peer pressure’ to assimilate!
Progress of science and technology since the 1960s has given us many gadgets and media tools, but the more information we have, the less we seem to be able to think for ourselves. Thus, we have broadband alongside narrow minds, a poor juxtaposition!
This has been building up for some years. In an op-ed titled ‘Can Rationalists Awaken the Sleep-walking Lankan Nation?’ published in Groundviews.org in January 2012, I wrote: “Paradoxically, we now have far more communication channels and technologies yet decidedly fewer opportunities and platforms for dispassionate public debate. Today’s Lankan society welcomes and blindly follows Malayalis who claim to know more about our personal pasts and futures than we’d ever know ourselves. And when we see how our political and business elite patronize Sai Baba, Sri Chinmoy and other gurus so uncritically, we must wonder if there is any intelligent life in Colombo…”
Not every source of mass hallucination is imported, of course. As I noted four years ago, “Sacred cows, it seems, have multiplied faster than humans in the past half century. Our cacophonous airwaves and multi-colour Sunday newspapers are bustling with an embarrassment of choice for salvation, wealth, matrimony, retribution and various other ‘quick fixes’ for this life and (imagined) next ones. Embarrassment, indeed!”
Science for All
So what is to be done?
The proliferation of smartphones and other digital tools have not necessarily opened our minds, or made us Lankans any less gullible to charlatans or zealots. This is a huge conundrum of our times.
That is because mastery over gadgets does not necessarily give us scientific literacy. It involves a rational thought process that entails questioning, observing physical reality, testing, hypothesizing, analyzing and then discussing (not always in that order).
A healthy dose of scepticism is essential to safeguard ourselves from superstitions, political claims and increasingly sophisticated – but often dishonest – product advertising. That’s what scientific literacy builds inside our minds.
Unless we make scientific literacy an integral part of everyone’s lives, ambitious state policies and programmes to modernize the nation could well be jeopardized. Progress can be undermined — or even reversed — by extremist forces of tribalism, feudalism and ultra-nationalism that thrive in a society that lacks the ability to think critically.
A sporting analogy can illustrate what is needed. Cricket is undisputedly our national passion. It is played professionally only by a handful of men (and even fewer women) who make up the national teams and pools. But most of the 21 million Lankans know enough about cricket to follow and appreciate this very English game.
Similarly, there are only a few thousand Lankans engaged in researching or teaching different branches of science and technology – they are the ‘professionals’ who do it for a living. But in today’s world, the rest of society also needs to know at least the basic concepts of science.
Cricket didn’t has become part of our socio-cultural landscape overnight. It took years of innovation and persistence, especially by trail-blazing radio cricket commentators in Sinhala and Tamil. By the time we achieved Test status in 1981, all levels of our society were familiar with cricket’s rules and nuances.
Giving everyone a minimum dose of scientific literacy requires a similar marshalling of forces – including civil society mobilization, media collaboration, creative innovation and social marketing.
‘Science for All’ acquires true meaning only when every citizen – irrespective of education, profession or income level – gets enough skepticism to avoid being exploited by various scams or misled by conspiracy theorists.
Are we ready to embark on this intellectual vaccination process?
Award-winning science writer Nalaka Gunawardene counts over 25 years of national and international media experience. He blogs at https://nalakagunawardene.com and is active on Twitter as @NalakaG
In this week’s Ravaya column (appearing in the print issue of 10 April 2016), I return to the topic of pseudoscience — a claim, belief, or practice presented as scientific, but which does not adhere to the scientific method.
Pseudoscience is often characterized by contradictory, exaggerated or unprovable claims; over-reliance on confirmation rather than rigorous attempts at refutation; lack of openness to evaluation by other experts in the field; and absence of systematic practices when rationally developing theories.
American astronomer Carl Sagan (1934 – 1996) was at the forefront in promoting science for its sense of wonder and also for countering pseudoscience. As he used to say, “Our species needs, and deserves, a citizenry with minds wide awake and a basic understanding of how the world works.”
Sri Lanka has its share of pseudoscience, sometimes dressed up in politically correct ‘clothes’ of indigenous knowledge. Even many educated persons uncritically believe in pseudoscientific claims and practices.
As an example, I cite a currently fashionable pursuit of the Sinhalese community: going in search of archaeological ‘evidence’ for a mythical king of Lanka named Ravana (who is only a character in the Indian epic, Ramayana – but some people take it literally).
I argue that believing in Ravana after reading Ramayana is akin to believing in alien abductions and other modern mysteries after watching X-Files TV series.
Managing disaster early warnings is both a science and an art. When done well, it literally saves lives — but only if the word quickly reaches all those at risk, and they know how to react.
We have come a long way since the devastating Boxing Day tsunami of December 2004 caught Indian Ocean countries by surprise. Many of the over 230,000 people killed that day could have been saved by timely coastal evacuations.
Early warnings work best when adequate technological capability is combined with streamlined decision-making, multiple dissemination systems and well prepared communities.
Rapid onset disasters — such as tsunamis and flash floods — allow only a tight window from detection to impact, typically 15 to 90 minutes. When it comes to tsunamis, it is a real race against time. Effective tsunami warnings require very rapid evaluation of undersea earthquakes and resulting sea level changes, followed by equally rapid dissemination of that assessment.
Following the 2004 disaster, the Indian Ocean Tsunami Warning and Mitigation System (IOTWS) was set up in 2005 under UNESCO’s Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission. It is a regional collaboration that brings together three regional tsunami service providers – scientific facilities operated by the governments of Australia, India and Indonesia — and over a dozen national tsunami centres. The latter are state agencies designated by governments to handle in-country warnings and other mitigation activities.
It was organised by the Association of Academies and Societies of Sciences in Asia (AASSA) in collaboration with the Indonesian Academy of Sciences (AIPI), Korean Academy of Science and Technology (KAST) and the Agency for Assessment and Application of Technology (BPPT) in Indonesia.
The workshop brought together around 25 participants, most of them scientists researching or engaged in publication communication of science, technology and health related topics. I was one of two journalists in that gathering, having been nominated by the National Academy of Sciences of Sri Lanka (NAASL).
I drew on over 25 years of journalistic and science communication experience, during which time I have worked with disaster managers and researchers, and also co-edited a book, Communicating Disasters: An Asian Regional Handbook (2007).
The challenge in disaster early warnings is to make the best possible decisions quickly using imperfect information. With lives and livelihoods at stake, there is much pressure to get it right. But one can’t be timely and perfectly accurate at the same time.
We have come a long way since the devastating Boxing Day tsunami of December 2004 caught Indian Ocean countries by surprise. Many of the over 230,000 people killed that day could have been saved by timely coastal evacuations.
The good news is that advances in science and communications technology, greater international cooperation, and revamped national systems have vastly improved tsunami early warnings during the past decade. However, some critical gaps and challenges remain.
The Indian Ocean Tsunami Warning and Mitigation System (IOTWS) was set up in 2005 under UNESCO’s Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission. Over USD 400 million has been invested in state of the art equipment for rapid detection and assessment. However, the system’s overall effectiveness is limited by poor local infrastructure and lack of preparedness. Some countries also lack efficient decision-making for issuing national level warnings based on regionally provided rapid assessments.
Warnings must reach communities at risk early enough for action. False warnings can cause major economic losses and reduce compliance with future evacuation orders. Only governments can balance these factors. It is important that there be clearer protocols within governments to consider the best available information and make the necessary decisions quickly.
Now, the proliferation of information and communication technologies (ICTs) is making this delicate balance even more difficult. To remain effective in the always-connected and chattering Global Village, disaster managers have to rethink their engagement strategies.
Controlled release of information is no longer an option for governments. In the age of 24/7 news channels and social media, many people will learn of breaking disasters independently of official sources. Some social media users will also express their views instantly – and not always accurately.
How can this multiplicity of information sources and peddlers be harnessed in the best public interest? What are the policy options for governments, and responsibilities for technical experts? How to nurture public trust, the ‘lubricant’ that helps move the wheels of law and order – as well as public safety – in the right direction?
As a case study, I looked at what happened on 11 April 2012, when an 8.6-magnitude quake occurred beneath the ocean floor southwest of Banda Aceh, Indonesia. Several Asian countries issued quick warnings and some also ordered coastal evacuations. For example, Thai authorities shut down the Phuket International Airport, while Chennai port in southern India was closed for a few hours. In Sri Lanka, panic and chaos ensued.
In the end, the quake did not generate a tsunami (not all such quakes do) – but it highlighted weaknesses in the covering the ‘last mile’ in disseminating early warnings clearly and efficiently.
I concluded: Unless governments communicate in a timely and authoritative manner during crises, that vacuum will be filled by multiple voices. Some of these may be speculative, or mischievously false, causing confusion and panic.
On 16 December 2015, I was invited by Sri Lanka’s Presidential Task Force for the Prevention of Chronic Kidney Disease to speak on this topic at the NATIONAL WORKSHOP ON PREVENTION OF CHORNIC KIDNEY DISEASE held in Colombo.
Speaking to an audience of scientists, health and agriculture sector public officials and policy makers, I briefly explored the kind of misinformation, myths and pseudo-science uncritically peddled by Lankan media.
Scientists are researching widely on what causes the Chronic Kidney Disease of unknown etiology (CKDu) in Sri Lanka that affects thousands of people (mostly farm workers) and burdens the public healthcare system. As health officials and policy makers struggle with the prolonged humanitarian emergency, unprofessional and fear-mongering media coverage often adds to public confusion and fear.
As a science writer, I have long been concerned about public communication of risk in times of distress. In late 2012, speaking at an Asian science communication workshop held in Colombo, I first coined the phrase: Mass Media Failure is complicating Mass Kidney Failure.
I revisited and updated this analysis,arguing that there are many reasons for systemic media failure in Sri Lanka that has allowed ultra-nationalists and certain environmental activists to pollute the public mind with half-truths and conspiracy theories. These need media industry level reform.
Meanwhile, for improving the CKDu information flow in society, I proposed some short, medium and long term recommendations.
In this week’s Ravaya column, (in Sinhala, appearing in issue of 20 Sep 2015), I share some excerpts from my recent book on the childhood of Sir Arthur C Clarke (1917 – 2008), author, undersea explorer and futurist.
Titled ‘Tharu Atharata Giya Daruwa: Childhood of Arthur C Clarke’, the book is written in story-telling style in conversational Sinhala. It is suitable for readers of all ages, and especially for parents, teachers and children.
Clarke’s accomplishments are known much more than his humble origins and early inspirations in life. He was born in rural England as the First World War was ending, and spent his childhood years in Minehead, Somerset, close to the sea.
Arthur was the eldest in a family of four, who were raised by their dynamic mother, widowed at a young age. Despite cycling 20 km to school and back and helping on the farm, he excelled in studies and pursued serious hobbies – star gazing, mechanical experiments and nature observations.
His experiences were shaped largely by growing up on the family farm, exploring the local beach, and working part-time at the village post office. Early on, he cultivated habits like good time management, thrift, careful storage of everything and multi-tasking – all of which lasted a lifetime. He knew the value and limits of money, respected the dignity of labour, and appreciated honesty and hard work in everyone.
The book is widely illustrated with 74 photographs including many drawn from family albums preserved by the Arthur C Clarke Trust that now manages the Clarke Literary Estate. It also carries some original caricatures drawn by cartoonist and artist Dharshana Karunathilake who designed the book.