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Mercury,
March/April 1997 Table of Contents
(c) 1997 Astronomical
Society of the Pacific
As
an undergraduate in 1986, I visited the San Francisco Exploratorium
for the first time. It had been a tough semester, and I was beginning
to question whether science was for me. I spent two days playing
with the lasers and lenses and levers, and they reminded me there
was meaning to the equations and exams.
The
Exploratorium's techniques have been adopted by museums and schools
around the world. The hands-on activities surely encourage many
young people to become, or remain, scientists. But what about everybody
else? Do they go home knowing how scientific reasoning can inform
their lives? Do they realize how all that playful experimentation
relates to the science they see on the evening news?
Even
on my initial romp through the Exploratorium, I remember doing each
exhibit, saying "Wow, that's cool," and then moving on to the next
exhibit on a wholly unrelated subject. When I returned to the friends
I was staying with, I could hardly recall individual exhibits. All
I could say is that they were fun. Is that enough?
The
limitations of the Exploratorium become apparent to me this past
January when I visited its sister institution, the Ontario Science
Center in Toronto. You don't hear much about the Ontario center
south of the border. Unlike the Exploratorium, it hardly ever gets
cited in magazine articles. Yet science-museum experts give the
two centers, which both opened in 1969, equal credit for ushering
in the era of hands-on exhibits. Over the past decade, the Ontario
center has been pioneering a new era of interactive science.
Both
institutions put the visitor to work. At each exhibit, you sit down,
do an experiment, see a scientific principle in action, and, hopefully,
ask your own questions and reach your own answers. Plenty of phenomena
can be illustrated in a single exhibit: color mixing, electromagnetic
induction, double-pendulum chaos. But what about more involved topics?
No single exhibit could let visitors explore, say, the mind. It
takes a series of exhibits that build on one another. And this is
where the Exploratorium fails.
It
is a noisy, disheveled laboratory with exhibits in only the vaguest
of patterns. An exhibit on the human perception of hot and cold
is next to a build-it-yourself archway. After a couple of hours
I find myself glazed-over by the visual and aural chaos.
On
a visit this year, I stumbled across an exhibit that seemed to have
something to do with tornadoes. Condensate rose from a grille in
the floor and a fan at top was trying to spin it into a vortex
or at least that's what visitors gathered around the exhibit were
insisting, in the absence of any printed explanation. Kids, seeing
a large platform, climbed up and played amid the mist, further clouding
(or, rather, un-clouding) the effect. The visitors drifted away
to the bubble-makers and cafeteria, between which this failed tornado
was inexplicably placed.
Science
itself is chaotic, and the Exploratorium certainly captures that,
as was the intention of its much-cited founder, Frank Oppenheimer.
If connections among the phenomena are there, Oppenheimer reasoned,
visitors can find them. Yet they are expected to do so without benefit
of the motivations and mechanisms that scientists have: the review
papers, the invited talks, the discussions over coffee and doughnuts,
the time to sit and think. Most visitors probably don't even realize
that connections are there to be made. The main goal of most kids
is simply to turn as many cranks as they can in the time their parents
have given them.
A
new series of exhibitions at the Exploratorium, designed to parallel
California schools' New Science, does draw analogies among disciplines:
for example, cycles in biology, cycles in geology, cycles in physics.
But even these don't have much to say about the deeper connections
among the sciences or with the rest of society.
These
are issues that clearly have preoccupied the Ontario center. It
has been producing innovative, controversial, self-reflective exhibitions
on such subjects as cognition, racism, and world hunger exhibitions
that go beyond gee-whiz.
An
exhibit on the cultural bias of IQ tests asks whether you know the
vocabulary of rap music; one on the reliability of memory shows
you a brief video of a crime and then asks you to identify the culprit;
another tells you to step only on the black squares of a checkerboard
pattern, and afterwards asks you why you followed the instructions
a segue into the Stanford prisoner experiment. You could,
and I did, spend hours discussing and debating those exhibits with
fellow museum-goers. If that isn't participatory science education,
what is?
Each
of these exhibitions is a sustained exploration of its topic; the
little pieces, together, become more than the sum of their parts.
Their layout ensured that, despite the crowds, the center never
seemed crowded. I could actually concentrate.
The
Ontario center is not the only one that challenges visitors to manipulate
ideas as well as dials. But many museums are heading the other way,
away from any whiff of controversy. We need the Exploratorium to
rejoin the revolution it helped to start.
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