It is an all-too familiar scene. I am at a party and meet a couple. “What do you do?” they ask. “I’m a scientist.” I can already see the first sign of panic and disengagement. “What kind?” they ask politely. “I’m a molecular biologist. I study how information in our genes is used to make proteins.” “Oh, that sounds fascinating and terribly clever. I’m afraid I was never very good at science or maths. I know nothing at all about it.”

The conversation quickly moves on to the latest novel they’ve read or concert they’ve attended. Now imagine the reverse. Suppose I had said: “Oh I really know nothing about literature or arts or music.” The same people who proudly proclaim their ignorance about science and maths would consider me an uncivilised boor.

A striking example of this double standard is that when David Bowie died, his face was emblazoned across the front page of every newspaper with a national outpouring of grief. But when Fred Sanger, who ushered in a new age of biology and was one of the few people to win two Nobel prizes, died a couple of years ago, it was largely relegated to smaller pieces on the inside pages.

In fact, all of us should enjoy science and mathematics, which are a triumph of human achievement and are as much a part of our culture as history, literature, art and music. To see this, just imagine if you were able to travel just 200 years back and explain to the smartest people of the time that we knew how hereditary information was coded in molecules, how species evolved, how antibiotics could cure long-standing diseases, details of how the universe began and how things at the atomic level are incredibly counter-intuitive but that as a result we are able not only to talk to people on a different continent, but actually see them while doing so. They would be in awe of us and think we were magicians.

There are also important practical reasons for being more interested in science. We live in a world in which science and technology are ubiquitous. Decisions are constantly made by governments, corporations, educators and others that affect us in profound ways. Can we keep the lights on and our houses warm without risking destroying the environment? Can we feed a growing global population? Should we change a person’s genetic make-up to prevent or cure disease? How do we keep our privacy and security in an increasingly digital world?

There is currently a debate about meningitis B vaccination and its cost-effectiveness in older children. A sensible decision requires us to understand the basic science behind vaccines in general and this one in particular.

We also need to recognise when people use scientific language to propagate nonsense that is not backed up by proper evidence. When faced with these issues, we as citizens should be able to ask, how good is the evidence and how valid is the underlying science? How are we to judge the reliability of science itself? Finally, much science is funded by us taxpayers and we have a right to know how our money is being used and be able to judge whether it is worthwhile. So having a scientifically literate population is essential in a democracy.

The cultural divide is persistent but fortunately not universal. I have met taxi drivers and operators of B&Bs in remote parts of England who have engaged me in animated conversation and asked me penetrating questions about my work and science in general. Indeed, most surveys show that we are a very pro-science country and trust scientists more than most professions. But perhaps we see it as something done by other people – geeks in lab coats – who are different from the rest of us.

Actually, science is simply the systematic accumulation of knowledge based on evidence. In fact, we are all born scientists, and are intensely curious about the world around us, constantly making deductions based on data. Even learning language, while innate, involves slowly recognising patterns from a jumble of noise, and generalising meanings and rules from them. But somewhere along the way, many of us are turned off, so we may not even be as enthralled with science as we were in the Victorian age. Many of us are to blame for this.

In schools, instead of encouraging active participation by students in exploration and experimentation, science is often taught as a dry collection of facts and rules to be memorised for exams. Moreover, we force students to chose between sciences and humanities far too early. That perpetuates a divide in which most journalists – who are often trained in the humanities – tend to avoid writing about science and editors are more inclined to push science to the margins.

Scientists, on the other hand, usually do not study enough literature and writing, and often cannot communicate clearly. Many of us also secretly pride ourselves on being above the ignorant masses. I remember enjoying a line from the movie Ghostbusters, “Back off, we’re scientists!” But ultimately, we scientists also have a responsibility to engage with the public.

Still, I am hopeful that things are improving. The number of young people going into science is steadily increasing. The internet means that it is now possible for people to have access to a virtual banquet of offerings, ranging from lectures by brilliant scientists and communicators to movies and interactive programmes, so there is something for everyone to enjoy. Indeed, the BBC and the UK’s leading science institutions are launching a project called The New Age of Wonder, which will combine traditional and interactive media to engage people of all ages with science.

All of us need to make sure that we all share in the wonders of science and mathematics. This is not just an abstract goal – if we are to succeed in the 21st century, we need to be an innovative and knowledge-based society. To do that we have little choice other than to embrace science as central to our lives and culture, just as we do all those other things we love.

Venki Ramakrishnan is president of the Royal Society and deputy director of the MRC Laboratory of Molecular Biology in Cambridge