Ever since I was a kid captivated by the thrill of discovery, the prospect of contributing to the great expanse of scientific knowledge has always strongly appealed to me. I used to dream of discovering something transformative: a wormhole to another dimension or universe, a new source of renewable energy, or a key physical equation…I know, quite the unusual and unlikely dream. But the truth is, even within a modern structure where scientific research is encouraged by society and funded by industries and governments, the likelihood of being part of a monumental discovery is rather small, even for career scientists. As an unaffiliated scientist without institutional support or grant funding, I am objectively further away from the usual point of discovery. I frequently feel frustrated when my continuous scientific efforts can’t seem to move the needle.
To regain some inspiration in the power of ‘citizen science,’ I picked up the eponymous book from my local library and ended up reading it cover to cover. Written by wildlife ecologist and professor Caren Cooper, Citizen Science highlights a number of large-scale, coordinated research projects driven by citizen involvement, glowing with optimism about the past accomplishments and ongoing potential of citizen scientists. In ecology, there have been numerous collective studies to monitor animal populations and migratory behavior, including a multi-institutional endeavor to track monarch butterfly migration that my mom participates in biannually with the OKC Zoo. Citizen meteorologists can set up a weather station at their home and contribute the data to CoCoRAHS, a crowd-sourced almanac that also provides meaningful data to improve precipitation forecast models, or even become storm spotters. Those interested in space can find and classify unknown stars and galaxies with the Galaxy Zoo, part of a greater initiative called Zooniverse that connects interested people with citizen science projects spanning all disciplines. A similar program called SciStarter was launched by Arizona State professor Darlene Cavalier after her research successfully mapped typical human microbiomes from the collection of thousands of navel swabs from microbiology enthusiasts. More equipment-intensive research thrusts, such as the physics of protein folding or computational genomics, can be assisted by lending your computer’s downtime to an @home distributed computing network. There’s a project out there for everyone, and citizen scientists will continue to play a vital role in these larger scientific operations.
These successful projects were all spearheaded by well-connected, adequately-resourced professionals…what about projects led by citizen scientists? When I introduce my tornado model to meteorologists, I am often met with immediate skepticism. Independent scientists have to contend with the assumption that they are “probably a hack,” and rightly so. There’s a lot of pseudoscience and fabricated nonsense being circulated online, and an inexperienced/untrained scientist may not filter information with the proper acuity. I spent over two years reading journal articles and watching seminars to learn the background of the field, an undertaking that would be impossible if I didn’t know where to look for these resources. While I generally have no trouble convincing meteorologists that I’m not a hack, the perception is still damaging. I have applied for two small grants, both unsuccessful…at the back of my mind, I know that one’s reputation within the field can be a determining factor. There are several inherent disadvantages to being an independent scientist, so my frustration is not unfounded.
The other independent scientists I know have faced similar obstacles. Last week, I reconnected with my friend George, who spent the last seven years working in a makeshift chemistry lab for a startup company. While his company made bold statements about the potential of their proprietary chemical in several applications, George’s lab was so underfunded that he could not scientifically prove any of these claims. Instead, he was a glorified mixologist for hand creams. His theoretical work, which would not require extensive resources to carry out, has not gained much traction either, in part because it was always relegated to a side project. Another colleague, Larry, would come in to my undergraduate lab to test his tritium batteries. Despite twenty years of in-home R&D with hobbyist supplies, his battery startup was still in the initial prototyping phase – alas, five years later, I’ve still heard no buzz about tritium batteries. Once greatly inspired by their ideas, I now feel sorry for these guys (and, to a lesser extent, for the world) that their projects haven’t had the resources or coordinated support to get off the ground.
On the bright side, there is precedent for a ‘regular guy’ to succeed in leading research on severe storms. Tim Samaras never earned a college degree, but he parlayed a passion for storm-chasing into some of the most significant scientific findings about tornadoes to date. A chaser “not for the thrill but for the science,” Tim took a leading role in developing a probe that could measure physical conditions inside a tornado without blowing away, which culminated in 2003 with the lowest pressure measurement ever recorded at Earth’s surface during an F4 tornado in South Dakota. He also pioneered photogrammetric techniques for estimating storm motion and tracking lightning, providing a comprehensive insight into the storms that he chased. He was successful in obtaining grant funding for TWISTEX, earning 18 grants from National Geographic and some support from the Discovery Channel TV series Storm Chasers. I wrote to Tim in May 2013 hoping to look into TWISTEX’s extensive datasets on pressure and temperature drops in tornadoes, but that same week he was tragically killed while conducting research on the El Reno tornado in Oklahoma. As the man who knew the most about tornadoes out of anyone, his untimely death was a devastating loss for the severe weather research community, which has a consensus appreciation for the unique dedication and perspective that Tim brought to the field.
The template for success is in place. Short of giving my life in the quest for data, I need to emulate Tim Samaras’ dedication to the unbiased observation of tornadoes, his attentiveness to nuances that distinguish outlier storms, and his drive to collaborate so his results would be distributed in a useful manner. And once my tornado prediction model incorporates all of these observations, I need to take a leaf from Citizen Science and compare model predictions to crowd-sourced observations. After all, the dream is for my tornado prediction algorithms to one day be incorporated into the software behind the forecasts that we see…what better way to test-drive these algorithms than a citizen science project?! My main goal for the year is a soft web-launch of this software, and more updates will surely come as the science continues to progress.
Worldly Observations 