Thinking of becoming a science communicator? It's a terrific job, but be aware that you could find yourself being attacked for having an unpopular stance on whether Pluto is a planet, or not believing the Earth is flat, or even just being a woman, writes Mika McKinnon.

My job is to be curious in public, celebrating my love of science and sharing all the neat things I learn.

It's an amazing job, and sometimes I wonder how I get paid to do it. But it can also be ugly.

In my first 700 days working at a major publication, I received over 800 threats. They're tucked away in an archive folder, hopefully never referenced. I consider this an unfortunate but normal part of my job, a risk of science communication.

Not everyone who does science in public runs into this problem, but it's almost impossible to predict the triggers. The reasons I deserved to die included aliens are real, the Earth is flat, Pluto is a planet, and of course, anything to do with women in science.

Sometimes I should die for making a homonym slip, or for using Canadian spelling. Once, I was condemned because I called the Cygnus spacecraft "cute" as an excuse to talk about its newly-designed yellow umbrella solar panel.

As science communicators go, I'm fairly low profile. My best articles hit a quarter million views - nice, but nothing compared to the science superstars. My beat is equally innocuous - very few people get riled up by gorgeous astronomy, and I'm careful about when I venture into politically hot topics.

That makes this even more disturbing - my experience is likely on the low end of "normal" for daring to do science in public.

This plays into every gig I take. It's a demented game of risk and reward where I'm trying to balance between career success and personal safety. A project might gain me precious clicks, but will those eyeballs produce new entries for my threat archive? I need to advertise my speaking engagements, but will the venue support me if a stalker shows up instead of a fan?

Sharing my personal stories makes science more accessible, but opens me up to more individualised attacks. For now, I'm fine - the threats I've received are irritating, obnoxious, and a reflection of a deep cultural flaw, but don't actually have much impact on me. But what happens if they escalate, or when my precautions aren't enough?

This isn't to say science communication is an awful job. I honestly love it, and think our world would be a more interesting place if more people embraced the frustration and wonder of the scientific process. But if you're thinking about joining the field of people putting out explainers and debunkers and other oddities, know that this is a possibility. Take a hint from disaster research and think about how to mitigate your risk up front, instead of struggling to react if you're the unlucky target one day.

Get a PO Box, and use it for everything. Your physical address is a secret the online world doesn't need to know.

Get a PO Box, and use it for everything. Your physical address is a secret the online world doesn't need to know. Archive your threats, even the anonymous ones. Hope you never need to use it, but know you've got a complete history if you do. At the same time, make an archive of all the good things. Fill it with glowing fan mail, the positive feedback from your boss, and the compliments from your heroes. Document real-life fuzzy moments that aren't inherently archivable. Refer to this collection of happy things often.

Archive your threats, even the anonymous ones. Hope you never need to use it, but know you've got a complete history if you do. At the same time, make an archive of all the good things. Fill it with glowing fan mail, the positive feedback from your boss, and the compliments from your heroes. Document real-life fuzzy moments that aren't inherently archivable. Refer to this collection of happy things often. Pick your battles in what you cover. You don't need to make yourself a target on every issue, even the big stories you feel strongly about. You don't owe anyone (except maybe your editor!) an explanation for sitting one out. Conversely, speak up when you can. Use whatever scraps of power you have to make the world a better place.

Pick your battles in what you cover. You don't need to make yourself a target on every issue, even the big stories you feel strongly about. You don't owe anyone (except maybe your editor!) an explanation for sitting one out. Conversely, speak up when you can. Use whatever scraps of power you have to make the world a better place. Get support when you need it. Recruit a friend to archive emails or clean out a comments section, or approach a mentor for advice. Ask for help without shame; we all need it sometimes. Similarly, it's okay to take a break, or to stop entirely. A constant barrage of negativity takes its toll, and it's only human to react. You aren't any less picking another path.

Get support when you need it. Recruit a friend to archive emails or clean out a comments section, or approach a mentor for advice. Ask for help without shame; we all need it sometimes. Similarly, it's okay to take a break, or to stop entirely. A constant barrage of negativity takes its toll, and it's only human to react. You aren't any less picking another path. Mentor, even when you're new. Knowing we aren't alone makes the world much less horrible.



Getting threats is like a horrible form of Achievement Unlocked, a sign that your very existence sends a total stranger into a spittle-fuelled incoherent rant. Maybe you dared to enjoy science, or hold an unpopular opinion, or be a woman, or a minority, or any combination of things including continuing to breathe the air they hold precious.

We can't prevent the flawed, imperfect humans of this world from venting their impotent rage. But we can be gentle with each other, and keep doing the things we love.

For me, that's doing science in public. We've got a robotic geologist poking at a sand dune on Mars, a radioactive camera hurtling towards the far reaches of the solar system, and more mysteries here at home than I can list. That's more than enough to keep me happy.

Mika McKinnon is a field geophysicist, disaster researcher, science fiction consultant, freelance science writer, public speaker, irrepressible educator. You can follow her on Twitter at @mikamckinnon.