In Braiding Sweetgrass, Potawatomi botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer writes about her introduction to the objectivity of scientific thinking, which contrasted with her “natural inclination . . . to see relationships, to seek the threads that connect the world, to join instead of divide.” 

Studying science “trained [Kimmerer] to separate, to distinguish perception from physical reality, to atomize complexity into its smallest components, to honor the chain of evidence and logic, to discern one thing from another, to savor the pleasure of precision.” 

It was only as an adult that she learned to combine scientific and Indigenous epistemologies in a way that was additive. “It is this dance of cross-pollination that can produce a new species of knowledge, a new way of being in the world,” she writes.

Cross-pollination as a source of innovation is a subject of a new essay in Science by University of Chicago researchers James Evans, Casey Petroff, and Gary King, “Advancing science by designing for surprise.”

The authors argue for making choices up front to increase the likelihood that a finding will shift the thinking of the field, which the authors term “designing for surprise.” I loved it in part because many of the considerations (such as framing and choice of audience) overlap with communication, and for this line:

“The most impactful surprises come from ‘knowledge expeditions’ where scientists from one field travel to address problems in a distant other. These outsiders bring alien data patterns, frameworks, and theories that disrupt expectations.”

By transporting expertise from one field to another, we can maximize a finding’s transformative potential, spreading pollen from plant to plant.

Speaking of transformation, former Wired executive editor Kevin Kelly recently published some musings on how humans might interact with AI in the future. 

In one example, Kelly theorizes that LLMs could aid in discovery by translating a problem from one field into a sort of geometry that can then be overlaid on challenges from other fields. Humans could then use these overlaps to hunt for solutions we might not have thought of. 

We need highly specialized experts who can push our understanding of a single area as far as it can go. 

But perhaps equally important, we also need a means for transferring expertise from one field to another. That means infrastructure and training for people who can flit from field to field, like bees.

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I’m Alex, a science writer and editorial consultant based in Western Massachusetts. I’m fascinated by media theory, complexity science, and communication’s role in scientific progress. Learn more about my work at alexandraataylor.com.