A very brief primer on the power and pitfalls of visual communication in science

Humans are highly visual creatures. From traffic lights to weather maps, we are surrounded by messages that tap into our ability to quickly absorb and interpret visual signals. Science is no exception. Data visualizations, such as graphs, help scientists view multiple pieces of data simultaneously to decipher patterns and trends. For example, below is a visualization that reflects the number of respiratory illness cases reported in different US states; beside it is an excerpt from a data table that contains some of the same information. You likely find that the map is easier to make sense of than the table, with your eye naturally distinguishing which parts of the country reported elevated levels of illness due to their darker, redder hues. Additionally, the map takes up much less space than the full table, which is 56 rows long. 

A map showing the levels of respiratory illness reported in each US state. In this visualization, color is used to reflect the number of cases reported in each state over the course of a week. Below it is an excerpt of a table (the full table is 56 rows long) that contains the same information.  (source)

Visual communication is also a key tool when scientists share knowledge with a general audience, such as guidance on how to prevent spread of a disease. Communicating visually, rather than relying solely on text, can often make a message accessible to a larger audience by circumventing language barriers. In addition to making information more understandable, visual communication can also draw on a rich lexicon of cues to achieve specific effects, e.g. directing a viewer’s attention to a notable datapoint or evoking a particular emotion through deliberate use of color. 

Illustrated guidelines for how to wear a mask effectively to reduce spread of SARS-CoV-2. In addition to showing the correct way to wear a mask, the image uses colors and iconography (green checkmark vs. red “no” symbol) to distinguish correct vs. incorrect usage, and the blue vs. gray backgrounds further reinforce the distinction. This image communicates its message without reliance on text. (source)

There are several different visual approaches that can be found in science communication. Data visualizations, mentioned above, summarize data in a visual form (e.g., through graphs) to make it easier to analyze and understand. Photos and videos provide a real-world view of a subject or situation. Illustrations depict structures, concepts, and processes — often in a way that is impossible to capture in a photograph — and highlight relevant details. Infographics can combine several of the visual approaches mentioned above along with narrative text, often with the goal of giving a simplified overview of a broad subject.

Examples of different visual communication approaches used in science and public health. This data visualization allows the audience to quickly determine that tuberculosis cases are decreasing over time, while the photograph provides a real-world example of the severity of the disease. The illustration intuitively depicts how the disease is spread, while the infographic provides several pieces of information in an easy-to-digest format. (source)

It is increasingly common for visual communication to also include interactive elements, which enable a user to choose which pieces of information they wish to view, and how. An example of an interactive visualization is the Johns Hopkins COVID-19 Dashboard, active from 2020 to 2023, which allowed web users to zoom in on specific areas of a world map to view the number of COVID-19 cases in individual cities. 

With the multitude of visual approaches available, we should keep in mind that differences in vision mean that not everyone is able to see a visual message the same way. Accessibility is a necessary consideration and can be supported through a variety of approaches, which include colorblind-friendly color palettes and informative captions that can be processed by screenreaders.

The wealth of resources and capabilities that make visual communication a useful tool also make it a double-edged sword. It can be easy to selectively display data to advance a particular agenda, or to make a dishonest message appear legitimate by embellishing it with sleek imagery. The growing power of AI image generation means that even photos and videos can be convincingly falsified. As a result, we need to carefully examine the information presented in a visual, especially during an outbreak or during other challenging events when accurate information is crucial.

Here is an example of a visualization that contains important information — the magnitude of infectious disease outbreaks over the course of human history — but can give an inaccurate impression of the data. The scale shrinks as the timeline goes further back (imitating the perspective that one might see in a photograph or drawing) to evoke a sense of distance. However, this element makes it difficult to compare the magnitudes of outbreaks at different points in time because outbreaks in the distant past appear smaller than those in recent times. For example, the sizes of circles suggest that the Bubonic Plague caused fewer deaths than the Spanish Flu, but the numbers reveal that this is not the case. Even visualizations made by respected sources with good intentions need to be examined critically before drawing conclusions from them.

A history of infectious disease outbreaks.

The size of circles is related to the number of deaths in each outbreak, but the use of perspective makes outbreaks further in the past appear smaller (source). Notably, the original version of this image included an additional panel below that compares different outbreaks with the correct scale.

So, what exactly can we look for when examining a visual to ensure that we’re not being misled? Some questions that you can ask yourself include: 

  • Is the visualization presenting actual data, or a schematic of what data might look like?

  • What is represented by the space occupied by the visualization, e.g. where do the axes start and end, what do they represent, and what is their scale?

  • How is uncertainty represented, if at all? 

  • What do other parameters in the visualization (colors, sizes of data points) represent? Are they redundant with other elements? Do they tell a different story?

this year's reading recap

The amount of reading I did in 2020 was one of the few things that exceeded my expectations that year. Looking back on the 41 books I’ve read, I see there’s more nonfiction than I’ve read in previous years (13), more re-read books (4), and more books read with a book club (6). I also read more internationally than in the past, with authors from the US, UK, Canada, India, Israel, Germany, Japan, Poland, Brazil, Oman, and Norway!

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Favorites:
The Mill on the Floss
Here
The Namesake

Least favorite:
My Absolute Darling

Most weirdly 2020ish:
The Memory Police

Books that made me better:
All About Love: New Visions
The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can't Stand Positive Thinking
Tales from the Perilous Realm
Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Heracles (one of the last books I read before March, which makes it feel like I read it a lifetime ago)

Metal 🤘

Despite being a fan of fantasy and sci-fi stories for most of my life - and drawing characters from those stories for several years - there’s one visual staple of those worlds that I’ve avoided like the plague: armor. Something about that combination of shininess, intricacy, and weight always made me balk. So when it came to drawing armor in my own art, I tended to gloss over it and let it disappear into some conveniently-located fog. 

I realized I needed to change my ways when I sat down to draw a character whose face was hidden by a gold-colored armor mask. I did the best that I could, but the result looked less like gold, more like cheddar cheese. I ended up discarding the drawing, but in the back of my mind I wanted to try one more time - this time, slightly better prepared.

So I grabbed some images of armor from my favorite movies and games, and looked at them - carefully, this time - and tried to replicate what I saw. The notions that used to intimidate me started to become concrete and understandable: shininess comes from light bouncing off the surface, creating bright highlights and reflecting the surrounding environment; intricacy comes from combining different pieces so that the wearer can move; and heaviness comes through in shadows that convey the thickness of the material. Even little details, like filigreeing and wear-and-tear, became logical and even captivating.

I’ve still got a lot to learn but I’m glad I took a step towards de-mystifying this topic for myself. You can see some of my process in these videos.

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A song of mice and fire

In what feels like a long-lost era, I used to love going to conventions and other events where you could experience works of art - whether music, videogames, or paintings - and learn about the people who made them. The last and biggest one I attended in 2020 was PAX East, a game festival held in Boston. Among the many thoughtful talks and dazzling demos, the part that I found most memorable was the panel discussion with the music team from Supergiant Games, who talked about the studio’s history and creative process.

What excited me most was the style of collaboration between the music composer and the game developers: both sides were able to contribute ideas and influence each other’s directions, while still respecting each other’s creative independence. This idea caught my attention because it sounded like the type of collaboration that I would love to be part of: music has always been a huge part of my life, including how I get ideas for art. While I don’t write music myself (much), being able to somehow contribute to a piece of music would be a dream. And although creating art on my own is fun, bringing other people’s visions into my universe can create even more possibilities for imagination and learning.

So I was excited to try my own experiment in iterative art-music collaboration, with a composer friend! It started with a simple sketch that I had made: an ancient, veiled statue surrounded by falling leaves - one of which carries a duo of mouse adventurers.

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As it turned out, this odd combo of austerity and whimsy was sufficient inspiration for a musical composition, whose melancholic harmonies and mysterious vocals guided my choices of color and atmosphere as I fleshed out the drawing.

It also spurred a lot of thought about possible stories behind the image. Who is the statue of? When was the last time a human set foot here? Are the mice hoping to find something in this dark place, or are they fleeing from somewhere worse?

I don’t have answers to these questions, at least not yet. Maybe telling more of the story - or finding someone to tell more of the story! - will be the next step in the process. In any case, you can see the finished picture below, and also listen to the (IMO, very beautiful) song that goes with it.

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