During a recent media audit on sickle cell disease, an intriguing pattern emerged that the name ‘Christopher’ was the third most mentioned term. This unexpected finding resonated with me, as I share the name with two other family members. Initially, we couldn’t understand this prevalence. However, upon investigating, we discovered that ‘Christopher’ is a common name among black men in Europe, which is the demographic most affected by sickle cell disease. This revelation underscored a shared experience among black men, linked not by their condition, but by their name.
This experience highlights a broader issue in how data is communicated. Too often, communicators rely heavily on numbers, charts and percentages to convey their messages, believing that these elements alone are sufficient to engage journalists and the public. However, when I speak to journalists, they often talk about the growing disconnect between what communicators offer and what publications seek. The truth is, they keep missing half of the story because the human element is so much harder to capture than the data, and this can often be unachievable due to a lack of resources or a fear of breaking compliance requirements.
What journalists have to say
Danny Buckland, a seasoned health journalist, said: “Surveys are clearly the biggest culprits, but I do get pitched stories based on patient data and trial results that, although important in their own world, will not generate coverage because the idea is too narrow or the story crumbles with the slightest prod at the numbers.” Journalists are inundated with pitches brimming with statistics, leading to what Buckland aptly calls “figures fatigue”. To capture their attention, communicators must go beyond the numbers and uncover deeper, more human narratives.
Another journalist from a top-tier global publication, who can’t be named thanks to tight editorial guidelines, shared another crucial insight: “Data is basically meaningless without the background context of who it affects in the real world. I’m also not keen on data that breaks down when analysed in any depth, so headline-grabbing stats that are flimsy or based on weird research are particularly frustrating.” This sentiment reflects a common pitfall: ending storytelling with data that is often unreliable, rather than using it as the starting point.
Consider this scenario: your data reveals a correlation between a disease and a hobby. Instead of presenting this as a mere statistic, delve into the lives of those affected. Visit communities where the hobby is pursued, talk to individuals battling the disease and uncover how it shapes their everyday experiences (I know budgets are tight, but this really does pay off). This approach transforms a dry statistic into a compelling human interest story. For instance, ‘the disease that makes you garden at night’ is far more engaging than ‘50% of over 50s experience sun sensitivity’.
We don’t always have the time, budget or support from compliance to get to know the people behind the data, but there is another option.
Turn the data into characters within the story. If you’re discussing a disease that claims lives yearly, identify the protagonists and antagonists. Which stat is the villain, which is the hero and which is the fairy godmother? By framing your data within a narrative structure, you provide journalists with a story worth telling, not just numbers to report.
When reporting a statistic such as ‘a new drug reduces symptoms by 30%’, the statistic alone might not capture the media’s attention or convey the full impact of the medicine. However, if we delve deeper and tell the story of how this is the difference between being able to drive or not, we can illustrate how that 30% is a great enabler (fairy godmother) of the story that allows the patient (Cinderella) to attend a family occasion (the ball). Using this method, that 30% reduction that means little to most people then becomes the key to a happier life. It sounds simple but most of our scientific storytelling doesn’t fit these easy to assimilate structures.
The disconnect between communicators and journalists often stems from a misunderstanding of what makes a story newsworthy.
Our industry needs to get really brave and invest more time and resources into proper journalistic work before pitching stories. By doing so, journalists – who are constantly struggling to meet deadlines – can immediately see the value in the data presented.
The power of the stories we tell directly influences how journalists share these narratives with their readers as, all too often, fear prevents our industry from moving the needle and converting our pitches to journalists into improved healthcare.
