You walked into E101 Lab on the first day of class. You settled into your seat, curious and a little excited. None of your other classes were really geared toward engineering (not directly, at least). Sure, chemistry and calculus have their merit for most engineers, but you were ready to dig into some of the nitty-gritty engineering. You really didn’t know what to expect. It was the first day, after all. Perhaps the class would go through the engineering design cycle? Create a mini project?
Your professor walks into the room and greets the class. She pulls up the Moodle and goes through the syllabus. After a good thirty minutes of going through the absence policy and grade weighting, it’s time for the actual course to start. And what’s the first thing that comes out of her mouth?
What is engineering?
You’re a little taken aback. Sure, it’s the first day. But we’re going to start there?
Crickets. You look around the room and you’re surprised to see that no one’s hand is raised. It’s not like you raised your hand or anything. But still. Granted, part of it could have been the first-day awkwardness in the room. But how could we all be in the same room, claiming to be pursuing engineering degrees and not have a precise definition practically rolling right off our tongues?
First, engineering is difficult to describe, given its diverse range of applications and fields. Second, it shouldn’t be a surprise so few people could quickly pinpoint a definition for engineering simply because a layman (which is what we’ve been for the first seventeen or so years of our lives) has so little exposure to engineering in popular culture.
Our class discussion about the underwhelming success of Apollo: The Race to the Moon helped me connect to a slow hunch that had been brewing idly in the back of my mind for a few years. In my junior year, I was required to read Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair that Changed America for English class. The book told the simultaneous stories of the building of the Chicago World’s Fair and the murders of the sinister H. H. Holmes in alternating chapters. I remember talking to a friend who had taken the class a year before me. He told me that he only read the H. H. Holmes chapters because the fair-building chapters were absolutely insufferable to him.
At the time, I merely judged him for his overestimation of his guessing abilities on reading quiz questions pertaining to the engineering related chapters. But the hunches connected this afternoon as I was walking from my calculus recitation to the Atrium to get some chicken nuggets. It appears themes of engineering must be snuck in with action, romance, or in the case of Devil in the White City, horror to get the attention of the public.
And even that really isn’t effective. My friend completely ignored half of the book to avoid learning about historical feats of engineering and design. What’s the problem, then? Is engineering just an inherently boring subject? Clearly we don’t think so, or we wouldn’t be sitting in classes like E101.
Perhaps the problem lies in how storytellers present engineering. The Devil in the White City offers a thrilling narrative about the horrendous actions of H. H. Holmes to attract readers to the work, but this is actually detrimental to the other half of the story. It takes the reader’s attention away from the engineering side. Instead, I propose we promote engineering as the center of such stories. But a question still remains: will engineering alone be interesting enough for laymen? Chances are, no. We can see this with the public’s lackluster response to Apollo. A cut and dry account of the engineering process is not enticing enough for readers/viewers who are looking to be entertained. So if pairing engineering with action takes attention away from the important stuff, yet simply laying out the facts proves boring, what can we do?
Relate it to human experience. Change third person point of view into first. Create a character future generations can look up to while simultaneously circumventing stereotypes of stuffy engineers. People want a story, not history. It doesn’t have to be fiction for people to want to see it. A story can be historical and truthful, yet still be told in a way that enchants the listener. A wonderful example of this technique is Hidden Figures. Unfortunately, I must admit that I have not read the book, but I can speak for the movie. I am sure that details were changed a bit for the movie adaptation, but what I want to focus on is the work’s effect. The story included themes other than engineering such as civil rights and empowerment, but these worked well with the STEM themes because they presented three-dimensional, likable, and impressive characters who worked on engineering problems.
Breaking the stereotype is important. People would be more inspired to learn about engineering if they were presented with an engineer they could relate to. Narrative-style storytelling is key. This style is suited best for our purpose because it allows the most depth and characterization. Three-dimensional characters are crucial to breaking the stereotype of emotionless and rigid engineers.
Play into emotion. People who watch Grey’s Anatomy weren’t necessarily attracted to the show solely because of the surgical themes. I’m sure there is a subcategory of viewers who are interested in biomedical science, but the appeal of the show comes from the emotion that is attached to the characters and their jobs. This kind of narrative style might stir something in a kid in front of the television or flipping through the pages of a novel. Maybe it will inspire millions. Creating a piece of literature that like that might cause a ripple. A revolution. A better future for the Earth, curated by a new generation of eager engineers.