I’m going to do a more refined post on ScienceOnline 2011 for the blog that pays the bills later this week, but I wanted to get some of my more personal reflections out while the fire was still smoldering. Short, short version: I loved it, and I hope to be back next year. It was inspirational, deliriously fun, and thought-provoking in so many ways. Here a handful of those thoughts.

1. A Digital Transfer?

Even though science writing is most of what I do these days, the majority of my writing experience is in the world of music writers. To contrast: #scio11 was full of camaraderie, collaboration, advice from old to young (and young to old), and mutual support. Music writer gatherings…not so much. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging out with my fellow music scribes (as I did during the conference with the well-bearded Grayson Currin at the surprise Archers of Loaf reunion show), but get any large gathering of critics together online or off and the vibe is far less positive. Certainly, at least, it’s far more competitive, especially as music-writing jobs have evaporated. And maybe because of the contentious nature of criticism, there’s a whole lot more backbiting and shit-talking that goes on, even within a circled-wagon staff like Pitchfork’s.

Disagreement is healthy, and the battles - over topics like old vs. new media, independent blogging vs. PR blogging, and ebooks vs. paper books - were worthwhile. But music writing tends to be all battles, and maybe the community would benefit from a positive experience like #scio11. Maybe this happens at SXSW or CMJ or EMP - I’ve never been - but I doubt it. The first two are more about seeing bands and discovering the Next Big Thing (the #scio11 equivalent would be, I guess, going to watch a bunch of scientists working in labs? Which is kind of what the Friday field trips were, but not really), the third one is more about critics play-acting as Academics. I don’t know of anything where music writers get into a few small rooms and talk about their craft, about the industry (constructively, not just bitchin’), or about how social media tools or video or forming networks could help them get work and improve their content.

So why not a #muso11 (OK, the hashtag needs work)? Like a lot of music writers I know, many of the science writers at #scio11 started writing as a hobby and found themselves suddenly, shockingly getting paid to be authorities on things. Surely some of the things that worked in the Triangle would work for a crew of music bloggers and journalists and writers. Only 700 people voted in Pazz & Jop this year; assuming about twice as many people wanted to go to #scio11 as actually were in attendance (300), that brings the total number of science writers into the same ballpark. We could gather somewhere (not Brooklyn, plz), WITHOUT BANDS PLAYING, and hash out our differences and try to create some kind of community, right? OK, probably not, but it’s worth a thought.

2. Glasses Half Full

I always tell people I got into “proper” journalism at exactly the wrong time, as I was hired by the Tribune just in time for 2 years of newsroom layoffs and unsatisfying redesigns. So every gathering of journalists, usually over beers, turned into an endless (not unjustified) festival of self-pity and anger. Journalists are experts at complaining, and their gripes are certainly legitimate, but having the same conversation does wear thin after by the 200th or 300th time. The smaller subset of science journalists usually brought even grayer clouds to their conversations, as newspapers and magazines increasingly took axes to their science desks to make kindling on the industry’s sinking ship.

So goddamn was it refreshing to hear minimal tales of journalistic woe at #scio11, even though many expatriates of traditional media were in attendance. Friday night, I swapped some stories about the newspaper science decline with Sabine Vollmer (formerly of the News & Observer, now of Science in the Triangle) and Carl Zimmer. Others, including Steve Silberman, talked about being summarily dumped by their employer in recent years, but rather than dwelling on the downside, they focused on the freelance-life silver lining of being able to write for different audiences and in different formats. I came back to Chicago more excited about writing, about science or otherwise, than I’ve been since my naive first steps into the world of journalism. Whatever secret formula produced that sensation should be bottled and sent to all other journalist conferences, post haste.

3. Broadcasting or Narrowcasting?

The science-writing-specific source of that optimism was realizing that, despite the decline in mass media science coverage, more science is being written about than ever, with more creativity and style than ever. But there was the nagging thought, retained from my newspaper brainwashing sessions, that a narrower slice of the population was being reached by all that great writing. The old argument from the Tribune was that you could catch the eye of someone who wouldn’t normally seek out science writing, and almost accidentally teach them something true about evolution or climate change or disease that they wouldn’t have encountered otherwise. Accordingly, the big post-#scio11 discussion has been over at Ed Yong’s blog regarding whether the science blog world is an echo chamber; Yong makes an excellent argument that it is not.

But I thought a lot at #scio11 about whether social media was forcing me into my own echo chamber, or more accurately, collection of echo chambers. I have 2 twitter accounts: one for personal use, one for the work blog. I use my personal account mostly for music discussion, and use the work account mostly for science - partly out of professionalism, partly because I’m concerned about alienating followers of each account by talking about something other than what they originally followed me for. I’ve even considered spinning off a new account from my personal account for my ramblings about the band Phish, who are not highly regarded by the people following me because of my supposed indie-rock cred.

The strategy of splitting my personality into separate social-media pieces seemed to be endorsed by the panelists at the #scio11 “Web 2.0wned” session, including Arikia Millikan’s admission that she has 12 separate twitter accounts for different projects and topics. I was also interested to hear about blogs with incredibly specific foci, who in some cases have resisted expanding to more general topics beyond their original mission (for example, discussing science alongside science-fiction). There’s certainly strength to be had in a single good idea and an unwavering focus, but I wonder if that also paints bloggers and tweeters into a corner, only attracting like-minded people without grabbing the “accidental” interest from outside of the direct audience. One reason I enjoy tweeting about Phish from my personal account is because it’s unexpected; all the music writers and indie-rock fans following me who wouldn’t normally encounter a serious discussion of Phish are forced to see it and (hopefully) consider the band in a different light (rather consider me to be a crazy person). At least until they hit the “unfollow” button, and I’m not sure how often I’m driving people away by veering from what people expect to hear from me. I’m still undecided on which is the best course to take - but watch out for a lot more science tweets on my personal twitter.

4. Work Ethic

I had a weird 2010, where I was finally spending my day job doing the exact thing I wanted to do: writing about science. But while I still had projects I wanted to work on in the evenings, like I used to have to do for all of my writing, I found that I lacked the energy to do so when I got home. Writing about music after a day of working in the lab used to be no problem for me. Writing about science after a day of covering breaking crime news for the newspaper was also doable (even if the daytime mental stress wore me down more than grad student days). But going home and doing more science writing after a day of science writing has been surprisingly difficult, and I find myself needing to unwind with much less productive activity (damn you, Xbox).

So by far the most inspirational thing for me about the science bloggers gathered for #scio11 is how damn prolific the really successful ones are, writing multiple posts a day, acting as twitter hubs for the community, and pitching/writing articles to a variety of publications. In some cases, all of that is being done while they hold down a day job that may have nothing to do with writing and blogging! So I’m making a late 2011 commitment: work ethic is my jam for this year. No more tiredness, no more excuses. Though if Ed Yong and Carl Zimmer and Bora Zivkovic want to tell me how they live without sleeping, that would be helpful…