Why I stopped having discussions on social media

The time and energy wasted on social media can be invested better.

During my PhD studies, I would regularly engage in online debates with creationists. These heated debates started in the comments section of the popular science website Scientias, but shifted to Facebook and Twitter later on. Occasionally, I would receive e-mails from creationists, convinced that they had debunked evolution (not withstanding the fact that thousands of evolutionary biologists were still doing research).

I remember one particular exchange by e-mail. At some point, I brought up the recurrent laryngeal nerve which connects the brain and the larynx. In our fish-like ancestors, this connection was quite direct, but in vertebrates the nerve loops down from the head, around the aorta, and back up to the larynx. In humans, this unnecessary detour takes about 10 cm. In a giraffe, however, the nerve extends throughout the neck and reaches 5 meters in length. Why would an intelligent designer come up with such an unintelligent design? The reply from the creationist: “Yes, but the nerve itself is very complex. It could not have evolved by chance.” At that point, I gave up and ended the discussion.

This example nicely illustrates how most of my online discussions with creationists ended. They would come up with new arguments as a distraction (a debate tactic known as moving the goalposts) or they would bombard me with numerous misconceptions about evolution that would take me hours to debunk (a so-called Gish gallop). Eventually, we would agree to disagree. Neither of us convinced by the arguments of the other. These experiences gave me the impression that online discussions are useless. But is that really the case? Let’s have a quick look at the pros and cons of debates on social media.

The recurrent laryngeal nerve takes a detour around the aorta. A very unintelligent solution. © Cambridge University Press

The Benefits of Online Discussions

Debating creationists certainly improved my knowledge about evolution. I read countless papers to fact-check several suspicious claims. And I wrote a few short pieces (in Dutch) to explain evolutionary concepts, such as how to build evolutionary trees, or to debunk common misconceptions about evolution. Moreover, the online discussions sometimes forced me to reevaluate my own arguments and biases. As physicist Richard Feynman once said: “The first principle is not to fool yourself – and you are the easiest person to fool.”

Apart from developing my evolutionary knowledge, I also learned about different debating techniques and how to quickly spot logical fallacies, such as false dichotomies or cherry-picking. And online debates forced me to write clearly and avoid these fallacies. Perhaps it even prepared me for writing and defending my PhD thesis later on?

Wasting Time and Energy

Although online discussions were beneficial in terms of acquiring knowledge and developing my debating skills, I am convinced that these benefits do not weigh up to the downsides. First, online debates take a lot of time and energy. This is perfectly captured in Brandolini’s law which states that “The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than that needed to produce it.” Hence, this law is also known as the bullshit asymmetry principle. Indeed, I have spend way too much time debunking a particular misconception, only to be confronted with a new argument as a reply (such as the example above). Engaging in online debates also took a lot of mental energy. I would find it difficult to focus on an important task, because my mind kept wandering to the latest argument in a Twitter-discussion. Instead of doing meaningful work, I would be searching the internet for a good reply.

Second, you will probably not convince your online opponent. Several studies have shown that “science skepticism cannot simply be remedied by increasing people’s knowledge about science […] Some people are reluctant to accept particular scientific findings, for various reasons.” Unfortunately, facts will not change someone’s mind. And when debating creationists, I would mainly rely on well-established facts about evolution. And these facts would often be ignored. It was especially frustrating to see the same misconception pop up again even though I had just debunked it with solid facts.

Finally, having online discussions with creationists gave the impression that professional scientists take them seriously (which I obviously don’t). An article in the Scientific American put it perfectly: “Once you put established facts about the world up for argument, you’ve already lost.”

Finding the Balance

Putting it all together, I would argue that online discussions are a waste of time. The potential benefits don’t weigh up to the costs. Sure, I learned a lot about evolution by debating creationists (which might sound counterintuitive), but I could also have acquired this knowledge by reading books and watching documentaries. Indeed, there are much better ways to spend your time. Since I stopped having online discussions, I have become more productive and focused in my work. I can highly recommend it.

But wait a minute. Some readers might bring up an additional argument in favor of online discussions. Don’t we need critical voices to balance the enormous amount of misinformation on the internet? Yes, we do. But I am not sure if we can accomplish this through discussions on social media. There are numerous other ways to combat fake news and misinformation. And more importantly, we need to develop our critical thinking skills. Anyone can access information, but not everyone can properly evaluate it.

What does a university lecturer actually do?

An overview of the academic year through the eyes of a lecturer.

Since February 2020, I work as a lecturer at Wageningen University (the Netherlands). On the university website, you can find me in two chair groups: the Wildlife Ecology and Conservation (WEC) group and the Forest Ecology and Forest Management (FEM) group. On social media, I regularly share my publications and my experiences as a teacher. But you might be wondering: what does a university lecturer actually do? To answer that question, I will guide you through an academic year at Wageningen University.

But before we start our journey, I need to provide some context. Wageningen University has recently introduced three career paths: the classic tenure track (roughly 50% teaching and 50% research), the teacher track (ca. 70% teaching) and the researcher track (ca. 70% research). This framework allows employees to follow their own academic paths. I am currently in the teacher track. My duties are thus mainly focused on teaching activities, but the general overview in this blog post can applied to other positions as well.

Teaching Periods

The academic year at Wageningen University is divided into six periods of varying lengths. I am actively teaching in most periods., but my activities vary between courses. And I want to emphasize that these courses are run by fantastic teaching teams. I don’t give these courses by myself. Many colleagues work together to produce high-quality education.

During period 1, I am involved in two courses. In the morning, I assist in the practical sessions of the statistical course Ecological Methods 1. After a lecture by one of my colleagues, the students are divided across numerous classrooms where they try to solve statistical questions. I walk around these rooms and help students when they are stuck or need more explanation. Oh, and I make daily memes about the course content.

One of the many memes that I make for Ecological Methods 1.

In the afternoon, I switch to the course Habitat Analysis for Ecologists. Here, the students learn how to collect ecological data in the field and process it afterwards (either in the lab or by doing calculations). The course is divided into different modules that focus on a particular ecological discipline, such as forest productivity, soil biology and nutrient availability. I coordinate the module on forest productivity in which the students estimate the amount of biomass in a forest plot and analyze tree rings, among other things. At the end of the course, the students combine information from the different modules to answer an ecological question.

The students extract tree cores from different tree species to analyze their tree rings.

During the second period, I help out in the course Resource Dynamics and Sustainable Utilization. A series of lectures introduces the students to the status of natural resources and how to extract them in a sustainable way. The theory is put into practice with discussions of scientific papers and several practical sessions (including modelling population dynamics). I provide the wildlife perspective with lectures on the current status of wild animal populations and methods to estimate population sizes (e.g., using camera traps). All skills are eventually combined in a case study where students can evaluate the sustainable use of a particular plant or animal resource.

In period three, it is time for some mathematical modelling. During the course Models for Ecological Systems, the students refresh their knowledge on differential equations and learn how to model population dynamics (using the programming language R). This intensive course ends with a thorough analysis of a complex mathematical model that helps to answer an ecological or societal issue.

An example of a mathematical model in the course Models for Ecological Systems.

Period four is my education-free time where I can focus on other tasks (more on that below) and prepare for the course Climate Change Ecology in period five. This course applies the flipped classroom approach in which students give lectures to each other. Given the urgency of human-induced climate change, it is important that the younger generation learns to communicate clearly about this topic. They practice this crucial skill by giving lectures, writing a research proposal and making a knowledge clip. This course is always a lot of fun, because the students have the freedom to use all their creativity.

And finally, there is period six. Similar to the first period, I am involved in two courses. First, I help out in the course Animal Ecology where the students build a savannah model (with grasses, trees and herbivores) using the software Insight Maker. Once they get the model working, they can add new components to answer an interesting research question. The other parts of the course involve lectures on numerous topics related to animal ecology and a field practical to test ecological theories.

After the savannah modelling in Animal Ecology, I return to the Dutch forests for the course Forest and Nature Conservation II. In this course, the students prepare a general management plan for a nature area on the Veluwe. My task is to guide the groups that focus on the management of wildlife populations (mainly wild boar, roe deer and red deer). The students conduct a small field study and analyze the collected data. Based on their findings, they write a report with recommendations for management.

The forest where student conduct their field work during the course Forest and Nature Conservation II.

Supervising thesis and internship students

All these courses require time for preparation, interaction with students, and grading of exams and assignments. I won’t go into all the specific tasks, but there is a lot happening behind the scenes. Apart from teaching these courses, I also supervise thesis and internship students (on the BSc and MSc level).

A typical MSc thesis takes about six months. During the first month, the student writes a research proposal with the guidance of the supervisor. After three months of field work and/or data collection, the student spends around two months analyzing the data and writing the report. In the end, the student gives a final presentation and is tested during a defense with an examiner. A BSc thesis follows a similar trajectory but in a much shorter time period. Throughout the thesis process, I have regular meeting with the students and I provide feedback on analyses and draft versions of the thesis.

The topics for a MSc or BSc thesis vary widely. Generally, I offer a few main projects (such as habitat selection of woodpeckers) but students are welcome to propose their own ideas. Over the years, I have supervised thesis projects on the activity patterns of captive giant anteaters, the movement ecology of northern goshawks in the Netherlands, and the effect of cattle ranching on mammal diversity in Bolivia. These projects are regularly supervised with other colleagues. You can find an overview of past BSc thesis and MSc thesis students on this website.

In addition to BSc and MSc theses, I occasionally supervise internships. Students work for an organization and need a supervisor from the university to monitor the progress. The supervision is less intense compared to a thesis project, mainly involving checking a research proposal, having a midterm meeting to evaluate the internship, and grading a final report. The topics of these internships are quite broad from tree-related microhabitats in Poland to sound recordings of partridges in Belgium (see here for an overview).

Finally, I am also involved in the supervision of PhD candidates. At the moment, I am part of the supervision team of one PhD candidate but more might follow in the near future.

My Own Research

Between all the teaching duties and administrative tasks, I try to find some time to work on my own research. It is not easy, but I do manage write some papers and continue my blogging (for the Avian Hybrids Project and the British Ornithologists Union). Writing gives me energy, so I schedule regular blocks to focus on preparing manuscripts and producing blog posts (see this post for some general tips).

When I switched from research (during my postdoc in Sweden) to education (at Wageningen University), I worried about my scientific impact. By focusing on teaching, I would surely publish less papers. But does that really matter? Many researchers dream of “science for impact”, but if you really want to make a difference you need to get out of the ivory tower and engage with policymakers. Moreover, you can also make a significant – although less visible – impact with teaching (see this blog post). In the end, I learned not to focus too much on scientific output and societal impact. My main goal is being happy and having fun (see this blog post). And by working as a university lecturer I am clearly achieving that goal.