This is a rant, but stick with me and this rant might have a silver lining toward the end, or at least a voice of reason within the roiling cloud of bitter blog-scowling. And there are pictures of cats.
Like probably almost anyone in the 21st century that does research in a field of biology, I grew up watching nature documentaries on TV, and that influenced me to become a scientist. Doubtless it remains a powerful influence on other people, despite the massive de-science-ification of certain cable channels ostensibly, or at least potentially, dedicated to communicating science and nature (Animal Planet and History Channel, we’re looking at you).
But now I’ve seen behind the curtain. There’s still magic to behold there (e.g. working with early episodes of Inside Nature’s Giants), to be sure. However, some of my experiences have led me to become increasingly discontented with the relationship between TV documentaries and scientists.
Here’s a common flow of events, and how they sometimes veer into frustration or worse:
Once a month or so, especially concentrated around this time (May-June-ish), I get a call or email from a documentary producer or researcher who is fishing for expert advice as they build a proposal for a documentary. I’m always very happy to talk with them and direct them to the best researchers to speak to, or papers to read, or to aspects of my own work that fit in with their idea for a documentary. Sometimes their idea is a bad one and I’m not afraid to tell them that and try to steer them toward a better idea; on occasion that seems to work, but more often they have their plan already and are reluctant to deviate from it.
About 3/4 of the time, I either never again hear from these nascent documentaries or else hear back maybe one more time (even to meet for coffee or give them a tour of our campus)– presumably, the proposal fails at that stage as it doesn’t excite executives. I’ve easily grown to accept this status quo after some initial disappointments. Much like in science, some ideas just don’t pass the muster of “peer review”, and documentary makers are operating under more of a market economy than science tends to be. Sifting is inevitable, and the time I spend helping people at this stage is quite minimal, plus it’s fun to see the sausage being made in its earliest stages. All fair so far…?
The frustration naturally ramps up the more one invests in helping documentaries through their gestation period. I’m sure it’s very frustrating and stressful for TV makers, too, to spend days or months on a project and then have the rug pulled out from under them by those on high. Hopefully they are getting paid for their time; all I can speak to is my experience. My experience is that all this early input I regularly provide is pro bono.
I used to mention that my time is not cheap, and I had a policy (after a few disappointments and lost time) that I should get paid around £100/hour for my time, even at the early consulting stage. That fee went straight into my research funds to help send grad students to conferences or buy small consumables; it was definitely worth my effort and felt very fair. Since the 2008 economic downturn, I’ve rapidly abandoned that policy, because it seems clear to me that documentary makers of late tend to be working on more austere budgets. I’m sympathetic to that, and the payoff for a documentary that gets made with my input is often quite substantial in terms of personal satisfaction, PR/science communication, happy university/grant funders, etc. On rare occasions, I still do get paid for my time (albeit essentially never by the BBC); Inside Nature’s Giants was generous in that regard, for example.
But at some point a line needs to be drawn, where the helpful relationship between scientists and documentary makers veers from mutualism into parasitism, or just careless disregard. I’ve been featured in roughly eight different TV documentaries since 2004, but there were almost as many (six or so) other documentary spots that went beyond the proposal stage into actual filming (easily 8+ hours of time) and never aired; either being cancelled entirely or having my scenes cut. All too frequently, I don’t hear about this cutting/cancellation until very late and after my inquiries like “Any news about the air date for your programme?”
Several times I’ve heard nothing at all from a documentary after filming, only to watch the programme and reach the end credits to find no sign of me or my team’s research (in one embarrassing case that really soured my attitude, the RVC had broadcast to the college to watch the show to see me in action, and upon watching we found out I was cut. Ouch!). At that point I really do wonder, is it all worth it? Hours or days invested in calls, emails, paperwork, travel, arranging and replicating an experiment, repeating filmed scenes and lines, working to TV producers’ scripts and demanding timetables. All that is totally worth it if the show gets made. But if the odds are ~60/40 or so that I get cut, I think I have cause to do more than shrug. The people I’ve worked with on documentaries can be wonderfully kind and full of thanks and other approbations, and they often impress me with their enthusiasm for the programme and their very hard, tenacious work making it all happen. It is jarring, then, to find out “Oh, you’ve been cut from the show, I’m so very sorry, the executives made that decision and it was a bitter pill for us to swallow, believe me– take care and I hope we can work together again.”
Above: Performance art illustrating what it’s like to have your science filmed for a documentary, then cut; graciously acted out by a cat (R.I.P.).
My aggravation has resurfaced after filming with BBC Horizon’s new documentary on “The Secret Life of the Cat,” airing right now. Alan Wilson’s team, from our lab, is featured prominently there, so that is fantastic for the Structure & Motion Lab (also check out his purrfectly timed Nature paper on cheetah agility vs speed, also from this week!). It’s hopefully going to be a nifty show; I’ve seen some of the behind-the-scenes stuff develop. (EDIT: I’ve seen it now and it was pretty good in terms of imagery and showing off Alan’s team’s technology, but the science was pretty weakly portrayed– even laypeople I’ve spoken to said “Cats avoid each other… duh!” and the evolutionary storytelling didn’t convince me as much as I’d like; it came across as arm-waving, which is a shame if the two featured cat researchers actually have built a scientifically reasonable case for it. One could not tell if the “changes” in 1 village’s cats evidenced by 1 week’s observation were happening within a cat’s lifetime or were truly evolutionary and recent. I don’t think I’ll watch the 2nd segment.)
I was filmed for a segment which probably would have been in the 2nd part of the show airing on Friday night, but I found out last week that it got cut with a week left before airing. I will be watching the show anyway, of course. I’m not that bitter. The segment featuring my team’s research was about how cats of different sizes do not do what other land mammals do, which is to straighten their legs as size increases across evolutionary spans. This helps support their body weight more effectively, but I explained in the filming segment that in cats, the lack of a change of posture in size may have other benefits despite the cost in weight support: it can make them more stealthy, more agile/maneuverable (segue to the cheetah paper cited above!), or even better able to negotiate rough terrain. Hence a domestic cat is in a biomechanical sense in many ways much more like a tiger than it should be for a “typical mammal”– an athlete, specialized for the hunt. And smaller cats are relatively much more athletic than bigger ones because they don’t suffer from the reduced ability to support body weight that bigger cats do. This may be, for example, why cheetahs are not very large compared with tigers or lions; they are at a “happy medium” size for agility and speed. But this all got cut, I am told.
For my would-be-part in the show, we recreated experiments that I did with then-postdoc Alexis Wiktorowicz Conroy and others (a paper yet to be published, but hopefully coming very soon) that showed how cats large and small use such similar mechanisms in terms of postures as well as forces and moments (rotational forces). In these recreations, I got an RVC clinician to bring her cat Rocket (?IIRC) Ricochet over to be filmed walking over forceplates with high-speed video recording it. The cat didn’t do much for us; it probably found our huge lab a bit overwhelming; but it did give us at least one good video and force trace for the programme. Next we did the same thing with two tigers at Colchester Zoo, and got some excellent footage, including a tiger launching itself out of its indoor enclosure to come outside, while rapidly making a turn past the camera. The latter tiger “ate” (well, ripped to shreds, literally) the rubber mat that covered my pressure pad, too, which was mostly funny — and the film crew has reimbursed me for that as well as for the drive to/from the zoo. The filming experience was good; the people were nice; but the end result was a bummer.

Advantage of visiting Colchester Zoo for research: going behind the scenes and meeting a baby aardvark (that’s not a cat).
My segment, as far as I could tell, had cool footage and added a nice extra (if intellectual) context to the “secret life of cats” theme, so it’s a shame that it got cut. I heard that famed Toxoplasma-and-cat-behaviour researcher Prof. Joanne Webster‘s segment also got cut, so at least I’m in good company. I don’t have those cool videos of slo-mo cats and tigers with me now but will put them up early next week on my Youtube channel; stay tuned. They won’t ever show up on a documentary anyway; typically when footage gets cut it just vanishes into TV-land’s bowels.
So I’m not happy. Not at all. Bitter? Yeah, a bit. Spoiled brat scientist? I’d say that would be an overly cynical perspective on it. I do recognize that I am lucky that the research I do has a strong public appeal sometimes; many scientists will never be in a documentary or get much PR of any kind. But I think anyone has a right to examine their situation in life and ask, applying basic logic, whether it is fair treatment under the circumstances. Hence I have become disillusioned and angry about the relationship of documentary makers and scientists. Not just me, but us scientists in general. We’re unpaid actors playing sizeable roles and with major expertise. We give documentaries some sci-cred, too, simply by appearing onscreen with “Professor Snugglebunny from Smoochbridge University” in the caption. Supposedly, and often truly, we get good PR for it, when our segments don’t get cut or are not edited to obliterate the context or due credit. But it’s those latter instances that raise the question of fairness. If the segment gets cut, we simply have wasted our time. And to a busy scientist, that is like jabbing me with a hot poker.
[Aside: I’m waiting to hear what has happened to another documentary I was filmed for, and again spent ~2 days on, Channel 5’s “Nature Shock: Giraffe Feast” which should be airing soon… no word yet if I’ve made the final cut but the show’s airing has been delayed; hopefully not a bad sign. I am crossing my fingers… it seemed like a great show with a cool idea, and my segment raised some fun anatomical and biomechanical issues about giraffes.]
I know I’m not alone. I’m going to end my rant and see what feedback it draws.
But don’t get me wrong— it’s not all sour grapes, not by any means. I’ve still had eight-ish pretty good TV documentary experiences (cough, Dino Gangs, cough!). I’ve had great experiences working with documentaries; indeed, Inside Nature’s Giants was one of the best experiences of my career to date. And I’m sure many other scientists have had positive experiences. In answer to my provocative “Why bother?” in the headline, there are plenty of good reasons to bother working with documentaries if you are a scientist whose research they want to feature… but only if you have some assurance that it will be worth your while, perhaps? How much of a gamble should we be bothering with? That brings me to my main point, a general query–
But what about the bad? And is it all worth it, in your views, given the risks of wasting time? Do we deserve some scientists’ bill-of-media-rights or something; a documentary-actor-scientists’ guild (90% joking here)? What should our rights be and should we push harder for them? Or do we just sit back and take the good with the bad, biting our lips? (I’m obviously not the type…)
I’d like to hear from not only the seasoned veterans who’ve experienced various ups and downs, but also from anyone that has views, anecdotes; whatever. I’m not aware of anyone collecting horror stories of documentary mishaps and mistreatments experienced by scientists, but that could start here. Please do share; even if you just got a call wondering if you’d want to help a documentary and then never heard back. Who knows where it would lead, but I think it’s helpful to bring these issues to the fore and discuss them openly.
The economy has recovered, so I think you might consider going back to the 100-quid-an-hour system and I would encourage others in your (sometimes our, I get occasional queries) position to do the same. If the marginal cost of our time were a bit higher, the filmmakers and producers might consider not taking large blocks of time and footage, then leaving huge swaths of it on the cutting room floor (maybe not, but even if they did, it would pay better). Actors get paid scale regardless of whether their footage makes the final cut, after all.
none should work again, much less for free, with those who don’t appreciate their work, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hPCXOan0E8
Personally, I’ve never had a bad experience, but part or all of that is because my limited appearances have all been via Dan Riskin’s show, and he’s one of us.
I also treat that time as a “sunk cost” – I only spend the time if I could afford to spend it with zero results.
I absolutely agree with the frustration with being cut, which does indeed wind up being a waste of our time. I’m still a bit sore from what would have been my first documentary appearance (Ultimate Guide to T. rex), where I had a chance to talk about old and (then) new hypotheses of the origins of tyrannosaurs right in front of the Carnegie specimens of Allosaurus and Tyrannosaurus. What’s more, this was very early in my career, so one of my first real chances to get my name out to the general public on a subject which–at the time–I had probably studied more than anyone else had. Then I heard a week or so before airing that my segment was cut, and in fact they had a narrator speak my lines instead. To add insult, they misspelled my name in the credits…
I realize that the craft of making a TV show requires editing to keep the flow going well, but it still can be personally annoying.
A more recent case had to do with Dinosaur Revolution (or rather, Reign of the Dinosaurs as it was still called at the time. This was in the summer prior to its airing, when they had already decided to cut the separate “Science of Reign of the Dinosaurs” but were still planning on talking heads in labs and in the field. After a full day’s (actually, well into the evening) work, all that got used was my fingers pointing out features on the pathological “Labrosaurus” specimen of Allosaurus mandible. (That said, at least they did a sit-down interview later on, which did get used.)
With regards to the production side of things, they have to follow the basic engineering principle of “Fast, Good, Cheap: Pick Two”. And as I’ve learned, if they don’t get a project done quickly, they run the risk of one or more shifts of the people at the head of the studio, or the network, which tends to result in radically transformation of the tone, style, or even subject of a show.
Last item for the moment: one important issue, though, is that is if actual subject experts don’t help out, it isn’t as if they won’t stop making the show. So I still think it is worth it, but I’ve become a little less shy about letting them know when things are going wrong. (Of course, once our part is done, it is hard to keep things going in the proper direction.)
Might it be possible to have an agreement in which you do not charge them if they actually use you in the aired documentary (as you note, you do get something out of it if they air your segment), but are paid a fee if they opt not to use you to compensate you for your lost time?
Yes, I was just thinking that this morning. Have some specified minimal time of used footage (e.g. at least 5 minutes total airtime) so you don’t get cut down to a tiny snippet. This would motivate them to keep scientists in the show and not abuse their time. I’ll look into having a contract like that drawn up, and if I do I’ll try to share it here!
Nice rant!
Here are my thoughts:
1. I guess in a way that is the price of success. Many scientists can only dream of being contacted by such programs.
2. The annoying thing should not be “being cut” but rather being cut by non-interesting, non-informative “cat-chat”. The program this evening started off well, showed lots of techniques, some data but lacked interesting results (apart from the fact that some cats know how to avoid rivals). It was great to see the lab and all those involved showing off their skills and gathering the only interesting and significant data set of the show, however, I was expecting to see more science, surely this was the perfect opportunity to communicate science: the cat scenario was ideal to captured the audience attention, and then more complex and interesting things explained. TV needs to dumb-up and not dumb-down the audience.
3.Here is a proposition (maybe some leading scientists like you could put forward): With the advent of internet based TV (BBC iplayer, a great example), every show (like the cat show we saw tonight) should have a second “uncut” version where other aspects are discussed. At least it would be available for some audiences. A caption at the end of the show could be: If you would like to learn more about how cats are able to maintain these secret lives, see the second part of the program on iplayer.
Surely, this would only add a couple of days of editing to a person and could be available to a wide and (I am sure) interested audience.
Dixit.
Thanks Luis, I think it’s very annoying being cut for any reason, but yes being cut means that something else is taking your place — and that something is rarely high-brow, meaty substance!
You idea of a “director’s cut”, or a sort of Doctor Who Confidential accompanying documentaries is right on target. With universal free distribution so easily available, there is really no excuse for even the most time-squeezed documentaries to throw away good scientific footage.
We’re not veterans of being on the receiving end of video documentaries, but we have had a few experiences where one company or another is figuratively chomping at the bit to get all of the background information on the project, book time with us during the summer to visit the excavations, etc. Then, we hear the crickets chirping in the silence. That is fine: as you pointed out, several documentary projects can proceed quite a distance before dying on the vine. It is more frustrating when they actually start filming and don’t use any of the footage. A lot of filming I’ve witnessed at an excavation is staged, so rather than spending the time actually getting work done, the excavators are play-digging in a non-productive area because the lighting is good there, or the colour of the rock films nicely there, or the excavator doesn’t have to sit in a yoga-pose to dig…whatever the reasons for why something is visually appealing.
We had one crew horribly offended at us for not being able to get to the site because the site was inaccessible due to flooding. We told them every time they spoke with us that the area was experiencing steady rain, and that they should wait for later in the season to film because the site was likely going to be cut off for the week they scheduled. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we had a great experience with Canadian Geographic who did a combination write-up and video of one of our prospecting trips, and have been having a productive time with a different company for this year’s excavation. You take the good, you take the bad…
Even if productivity slows to a crawl for filming, I still feel it is worth the time because of the impact that nature and science documentaries have on kids: it’s good PR work for getting and keeping people interested in science. I remember watching science docs when I was a kid and being inspired. If the footage is cut for whatever reasons, I do find it hard not to feel like the effort was a waste of my time and my crew’s time. If that happens I can hope that, through all the pre-interviews, phone consults, and supporting information, we’ve contributed at least some factual information that gets aired.
I used to get quite a few fishing expeditions from junior researchers at TV companies whose aim was quite clearly to mine my address book for nothing. Much fewer nowadays though, perhaps because I soon bring them up sharp by asking them if they want me in my capacity as an editor of Nature, or as a private citizen? If the former, I suggest they contact Nature‘s press office; if the latter, my agent. That soon puts them off.
Thanks for all the interesting comments and stories so far, folks– please keep em coming!
I got some interesting comments on my Facebook page so I am adding them here anonymously; first one:
“Your rant was very interesting for me to read. I only had a couple of experiences with TV documentaries. The first time someone from the BBC saw our GFP videos and wanted more info/some clips. So we put it all together on a CD and sent it over. We heard it had gone for a pitch and then we never heard anything again.
The second time someone asked me on advice/background on the effects of auxin, and if she had understood XYZ right. It came at a very busy time for me, but I took a few hours out to do internet research (as it isn’t my direct area), put together an email in an accessible format – and I didn’t even get a thank you back. That annoyed me quite a bit.
I would do it again, for the reasons you were detailing above, but it also made me think about the value of our time etc. I would feel a bit bitter too if I participated in filming and it was never aired.”
2nd one:
” I read your blog with great interest, John. Not only have I frequently consulted on such documentaries but I also have experience vetting TV programming at a production level. Although filmmakers always complain about the “boffins” (to use that wonderful term from your adopted country) they cannot make good documentaries without us. Their “research assistants” usually do a poor job on the background research, and thus we have to help them out what is actually real important/interesting in the story. Regarding charging for your time: Just do it. All major production companies charge a lot for their work and never balk at paying well-known TV personalities at often amazing rates. I have seen cases where science writers got nice fat honoraria but the producers balked at paying actual scientists because they think that we should do everything pro bono. Like you, I use any monies for expendables and for supporting interns/students and the odd needy visiting colleague. Indeed, I think that filmmakers do not appreciate our input and efforts unless we charge them for it.”
–My reply here, and to other comments that we must charge for our time, is that unilaterally charging for one’s time will result in three things, almost inevitably, that give me pause: (1) fewer scientists will be filmed (but maybe then they’ll just be more careful about [ab]using us), (2) fewer documentaries will use scientists– BBC documentaries routinely tell me they have ZERO budget for paying scientists, (3) other scientists that do not charge will get used in favour of us; the net affect is that we’ll just not appear in documentaries, and perhaps this might harm the quality of the documentaries. But even considering that, I am not sure it is a net bad thing to insist on being paid. Perhaps the solution is to have a contract that stipulates you get paid if you get cut, as per above. I’d be happy with that outcome.
Thanks for raising this. My interactions with media are limited, but I’ve had some bad experiences because I work with developmental disorders, and this means we involve not only ourselves but also members of the public in the time-wasting. It’s particularly hard when you have to first get some children to shoot and reshoot a clip, only to find that it is cut from the final version, and nobody tells you about it. We are then left having to console some very disappointed kids and their families.
I like Luis’s idea of having a longer version available. Also wondered about making it standard that the scientist is given any unused clips that feature them. These could be posted online or used in talks etc, which would go some way to compensating for the waste of time and energy.
Good points! Although a problem w/a director’s cut is that it takes money to produce a version of that, and budgets being tight, it is unlikely to happen in many cases. But it would be nice! Copyright is a problem with scientists using unused footage, but sometimes with credit given, it is allowed– the footage does at least partly belong to the documentary company/TV channel, so they do have a case there, but I agree it could be shared more especially if it is a public/semi-public entity like the BBC/PBS…
To add to the doom and gloom, there’s also the problem of having your contribution retained, but either dumbed down to the point of futility, or edited to be a actively misleading. [Aside: I am gratified to find that link on the first page of Google results for clash of the dinosaurs.]
On charging: it may be a fair quid pro quo to do filming work at no charge, if it amounts to decent publicity for your work, your lab and your subject. What burns me more is the situation mentioned in one of your Facebook comments: “I took a few hours out to do internet research (as it isn’t my direct area), put together an email in an accessible format – and I didn’t even get a thank you back”. I just hate that. I think that’s one kind of request-for-help where I will start charging a consultancy fee. When it’s stuff that I don’t already know, but know how to find out, then I am doing actual research for the production company, and that’s not reasonable.
A problem, although it is an incomplete excuse, is that infant documentaries in the proposal stage have basically no budget; they are trying to get funding by developing their idea and seeking expert input. So in most cases they simply cannot pay, it seems. But I agree there is no excuse for not telling people thanks or something. That’s just bad Hollywood-esque unprofessional dismissiveness, and leads to bad blood between “boffins” and TV makers. Sure, they are busy, but a “thank you” is always possible, and scientists can be just as busy.
I’m not sure how I feel about this. Clearly production companies are investing resources when they start to feel out the possibility of making a new show. They have to pay their own staff for the time they put in; is there a compelling reason why they shouldn’t also pay external consultants for the time they put in?
To be clear, I have never charged for this; but your post has made me think maybe I ought to.
One more thought: I wonder if naming and shaming would be useful here? There are so many production companies out there, it’s hard to know which ones are going to make a serious effort (which we all understand might not always come off) and which have a history of fishing trips. You mentioned a couple of times that the BBC are notoriously stingy; arguably that’s a fair trade-off for their prestige and their tendency to do things more or less right when they get them to happen at all. But if I’m approached by a lesser company wanting me to contribute my time free it would be useful for me to know something about their track-record.
Tricky… the risk is getting a reputation of being a troublemaker, but then naughty TV companies/researchers etc It’s not my style; I think there are more positive ways to enact change, but I agree that a culture shift among TV peoples’ attitudes toward and treatment of scientists is needed.
“The risk is getting a reputation of being a troublemaker.”
Yes, well, that risk applies to all sorts of things that we do, or ought to. I’m sure the early union leaders got reputations as troublemakers. I certainly have that reputation, at least among some people, for with respect to my open-access agitation. I do realise that different people have different amounts to lose, and that my position is in some ways an unusual and privileged one. But still and all, sometimes if you want to change things, you do have to make trouble.
Tricky… the risk is getting a reputation of being a troublemaker
Indeed. Since I blew the whistle on Dangerous Ltd and the Discovery Channel over Clash of the Dinosaurs, my documentary work has declined almost to zero. Between mid-2008 and December 2009 I was filmed for 13 episodes of various documentaries. Since December 2009, only 2 episodes, and in both cases my involvement was solicited by folks outside the US. Now, maybe this is just a statistical fluke, but it is striking how different the signal is on either side of my CotD-related blogging.
(I’m not complaining, mind, and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, except to ask for some kind of protection up front.)
Hi John, interesting post and one that resonates with quite a few of us I suspect! I’ve done scores of these shows over the last 20 years including some of the ones you’ve mentioned, and I keep working on them for many of the reasons you mentioned: they’re a great way of getting educational material out there, it’s exposure, and they can be fun and rewarding. Yet they can also be frustrating and occasionally infuriating and embarrassing, and these scenarios play out repeatedly. I think a lot of what you’re talking about boils down to the same problem: scientists are undervalued as contributors.
Yet we shouldn’t be. Many of these shows could not be made without us, whether it’s getting cutting-edge work on screen, having expert opinion and input, or ideas and show concepts. And yet we’re expected to get paid nothing or peanuts? You know where that old saying leads, right? Yes, many companies will cry poor at every opportunity, but that’s because they’ve already allocated their budget for contributors. Do you think they try this with their camera operators, their sound guys, their directors, the rental companies they use to hire vehicles, the airlines they buy tickets from, the hotels they stay at etc? Sorry British Airways, we’re really working on a tight budget, could you fly all of us and our gear to Kenya for free?
Why do contributors and scientists fall for this line? If they expect to allocate $peanuts for us, we only have ourselves to blame right? What do we gain anyway from appearing on “Deadly Killer Monsters” and being edited to within an inch of our reputations to support what the script writer wants to say to sound dramatic? Well, as you say, if we’re charging a reasonable fee for our time, this can go into research and education projects. Of course we can use a bit of flexibility when the need arises. There are certain production companies that I’m more likely to reduce my fee for, although having said that those production companies normally value my input appropriately and seek a decent recompense at the budgeting stage. Like you, this always goes straight back into our research to buy materials or fund logistics and students – this is how it should work, they get to make a great show that could win awards and make money for the broadcaster, we get educational content out there and the means to continue to do the work they want to film. At a time when factual documentaries are at an all-time nadir particularly on US broadcast networks, we should try and do what we can to swing things back towards factual programming that respects the audience. But we certainly shouldn’t feel enslaved or beholden to the commercial demands of the system either.
Nature documentaries are a business like any other. Your time and expertise is an asset that has value. What does it say about how they value that time and expertise if they’re not willing to pay for it? What does it say about how you value it? If you do stuff for free, you’re probably the only one doing so… apart from perhaps the other contributors featured or who have spent hours on the phone giving away all their secrets for free. It would be great, if specious, to think that all scientists could band together and demand a bit more respect from this industry. Appearing on TV doesn’t have quite the same glamour as it once did now that Honey Boo Boo has her own series.
This seems more ranty and less eloquent than I’d have liked. Still, I say it out of love, because I do love nature documentaries and all they are capable of. I probably owe my career to their inspiration (thanks Life on Earth), and I know that I’ve inspired others similarly, but the more we’re treated with contempt by an increasingly predatory model, the less sustainable this is all likely to be.
Wow thanks Adam! I am really appreciating all the comments here- I knew I might strike a nerve. It is an issue that isn’t discussed enough. I will be contacting the Society of Biology and Royal Society to see if we can get some heft behind a movement to have more discussion, debate and and fairness for scientists and documentaries. I think this is the kind of dialogue that really needs to happen and we need professional support and advice from someone with clout in order to enact it.
I’ve had some pretty awful experiences with several TV documentaries. The most common complaint involves providing detailed (but accessible) notes and critiques of pterosaur models and animation which are ignored completely by the programme makers.
The worst experience I’ve had by far concerned a high-profile pterosaur documentary featuring the World’s favourite Natural Historian. Looking back on it, I wish I’d never gotten involved. They ate up _days_ of time through visits to the University of Portsmouth, filming giant pterosaur models being built and then on display, interviewing myself and colleagues, and then used less than a minute of the footage in their ‘making of’ show. It wasn’t just a waste of time but enormously disruptive, particularly as they visited at the 11th hour of our exhibition development (i.e. panic stations). As alluded to in the post above, TV crews frequently require remodelling of environments to get their shots, and it’s enormously frustrating to jump through their many hoops for virtually no return.
But that wasn’t all this show had to take from us. I spent hours – probably several working days in total, actually – on phone calls and video conference calls discussing the program and the CG models being used in it. These conversations were seriously long – many of them ended because my mobile battery was drained by them – and ended up, again, being largely pointless. I remember one occasion where hours were spent discussing the problems with CG pterosaur skull models that the company had made/bought at the last minute, none of which looked anything like the fossils they were meant to represent. I mean, I’m always wary of being ultra-critical of this sort of thing, but they were _bad_. Pteranodon had a flat, duck-like bill. The back end of the Pterodaustro skull tapered to a posteriorly-facing point rather than a flat occipital face. It was clear that whoever had sculpted them had not bothered to chase a single reference or, for that matter, knew what animal skulls look like. On another occasion, I flatly refused to comment on a 3D skeletal reconstruction because it was so piss-poor. Seriously, it looked like a set of pipe-cleaners put together. I told them to use books that I knew they had in their possession for reference to improve it, and it came back looking a lot better, albeit using bones models that were completely inappropriate for the animal in question. Think what a turkey skeleton may look like if someone used frigate bird bones to make one.
The most insulting part to the whole experience, though, was the lack of return for our (and especially) my time. In addition to using only a snippet of the footage they shot at our labs and exhibition, they ignored many of my comments (particularly as their deadline approached) and, when I finally started asking for money (oh, I was naive) they said they were running low on their budget and couldn’t afford to pay me! So it’s OK to pay the program makers themselves, but the guy who’s trained in the science of your documentary deserves nothing? I effectively went on strike until they decided to reimburse me, which eventually wangled a little money out of them (I guess they got desperate), but it was nothing like what I should have been paid. The £100 an hour discussed here is in a different league to my fee for this multi-million pound, flagship programme.
In sum, then, we invested loads of time, endured lots of hassle, and got basically nothing from it. The documentary wasn’t even any good despite all that work. Because I’ve said so elsewhere online, the filmmakers took me off the credits for the DVD release. (Eagle eyed viewers of this film will note that they forgot to take the ‘s’ off ‘Additional Scientific Consultants’, which now only has one entry. Honestly, if you’re going to be unethical, at least do it properly).
Silver lining time: my work on Planet Dinosaur and the upcoming Walking with Dinosaurs 3D movie was lovely. PD took little but gave back a lot – they were clearly actually researching their subjects before phoning/emailing me – and I’m proud to have my name on that show. It’s yet to be seen how WWD3D turns out as a film, but the production was slick and efficient. The animation and models are certainly top notch, and I even learnt a few things from talking with the animators. Was also the only time I’ve had a film company say “maybe you should be asking for more money”.
Wow, fascinating story, Mark– thanks a ton for sharing this. Some very good and some very bad experiences.
I don’t have anything to add that hasn’t been said above (great comments from all, and great work, John). As someone who predominantly relies on freelance, in which time is – very literally – money (more so than for salaried academic positions), I will only do TV stuff if the people who approach me promise cash before I spend any time in front of the camera. So, a few hours filming = a few £100. The only ones who don’t pay are the BBC, so I always used to turn them down (this has meant missing out on things like The One Show). As I’m currently promoting a new research group, I’ve revised that view (I said yes to Blue Peter the other day, only — how unpredictable — to be dropped at the last minute at great personal cost [as in, the effort I went to juggle domestic arrangements]).
Having said all this, I have spent great amounts of time – unpaid – on things at the set-up phase, always with the hope that these things will pan out down the line; most do not. I help because I’m a nice person, or maybe because I’m dumb, but also because I love talking about the stuff that interests me. The latter may be a weakness that’s being exploited. Finally, there’s a widespread belief among salaried academics that doing TV work helps promote their research or their research group and I know some who don’t even think to ask for payment; this might help create the view among TV people that academics don’t need or want cash for their time.
My takehome here is that people need to lay their cards on the table right from the offing. When you talk to TV people about finances and the general fortunes and misfortunes of life, they understand very well the problems many of us face, and they understand that time and expertise are far from free. Asking for appropriate payment is not only right and fair, it’s standard practise among the non-scientists that media companies approach on a daily basis.
Thanks Darren– a valuable perspective! Yes, I think we do more broadly need to ask for ££ as scientists, and get media to recognize that we deserve it as much as the CGI artists or charismatic presenters. Budgets can begin to account for this, then. That’s my idealistic ultimate goal, but there’s a long way to go for that kind of cultural shift.
Update: I emailed the director of the Horizon segment I worked with and he sent a kind reply that was sympathetic to the views expressed– this is good, but the people we really need to reach are the execs. My email may make its way to them so stay tuned for any more developments; meanwhile I will be pushing some professional societies to lend their weight to this issue.
Off the cuff musing, but I wonder if professional societies, by having greater means to access legal opinions, would be able to develop a media contract that would be accessible to members-in-good-standing of the society?
Great piece, John! I got to read it when I just came back from a TV interview which had left me with the same question – given that they sell these sequences to make money, should I not get some of that? In this case, I decided against asking for money because I also saw it as a promotion of my work and part of my job educating the public.
Anyway, since you mentioned Horizon, I wanted to share a positive story about the colaboration with documentaries:
In 2001, we were lucky whe we found the specimen that was to become Brachytrachelopan, and by chance, there was a journalist of the biggest daily newspaper in Argentina, La Nacion, around. Thus, he wrote a short article on the discovery, and by another lucky chance (bad time for news, it seems), this ended up on the front page of La Nacion. Thus, this got picked up by Reuters and soon appeared all around the world. A little later I got a call from a research assistant of Horizon, who had read about the find and wanted to know something more about the background. Thus, I spent some two hours or so talking with her about Jurassic dinosaur evolution and why this is so exciting to work on.
Apparently, after talking with her boss, they found this worth to follow up, and some five talks (or some 6-7 hours more on the phone) later she asked me if we already had somebody interested in the story, and if not if we might consider Horizon to do a documentary about our work. I was first surprised, then told her (truthfully) that other companies had called me in the meantime (though none had asked a similar question), but that we were open to offers. A few calls later I was told that they were interested in making a documentary about and support our work and we should give them a budget of what we need. Thus, I put together ideas for a three year fieldwork project as if for a grant application and sent it to them. As in many grant applications, I put in some extra funds, expecting tough negotiations during which the budget would be cut anyway. Thus, imagine my surprise when Horizon simply approved $ 160.000 (US$, not Argentinean pesos, which also use $)!
Bottom line was that Horizon came and made their documentary (The mystery of the Jurassic – see http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/horizon/2001/jurassicmystery.shtml) and we were able to buy a new fieldwork vehicle, excavate Brachytrachelopan, and do a lot more additional work, as well as pay for trips to conferences and visiting collections etc.
I guess my take away message from this is that there often is a lot of money involved in these documentaries. Talking with other people at that time, somebody told me that they often calculate in exceed of 1 million $ for a 45 minute documentory, and I don’t really see why not some of this money should go to the scientists that have a considerable contribution to it.
I agree, however, that we always have to look at the trade off between getting our subject popularized and not being exploited, and I guess it is a decision from case to case. Thus, I also took part in several other documentaries without pay after this, and had one occasion when a TV producer asked for going on fieldwork with us for footage for a documentary, but drew back when I told them that this would cost them something.
Difficult subject, and I agree that this needs much more discussion – some kind of consent within the scientfifc community (maybe in the form of recommendations from important funding agencies) would be benefitial for everybody, including the producers, because then they would have some idea what to expect and could plan the budget accordingly.
Oliver man, that is an amazing story! $160k!?!?! That’s rather astonishing. Well played, sir! I doff my hat to you. 🙂
Thanks, though I am still not entirely sure how that worked. I never made any demands, actually, they asked me to make an offer what we wanted for the filming rights. It shows, though, that it is not impossible to get money for our work and nevertheless come to an agreement that both are obviously happy with.
In time as a motion graphics artist, 3D modeller and animator I have spent a great deal of time working on the production of films similar to these. Not TV documentaries themselves, but working for the production houses that create elements for them and other broadcast and corporate videos. Although I do not contribute academically to these programmes there are parallels to how I work as I am a commissioned freelancer, hired for a very specific purpose.
The commercial world of video production is a cut-throat, fast-moving and highly pressured environment in which cost and time are the major factors producers are concerned with. Although the producers I know are all professionals who take pride in their work they are rarely interested in the field they are making programmes about, and their researchers (often quite young) will be likewise; they produce many films on many subjects. The documentary they ask you to contribute towards is a product on a production line and for them represents an investment in time and money; if they fail to sell the final programme they will take a heavy hit. So working in this environment can be trying and challenging for the producers, the researchers and those of us they bring in to generate and deliver the content. As for emails of thanks, periods of silence and any sort of recognition then that simply is not on many industry people’s radar; it’s not personal and whilst I don’t operate that way, I too find it dispiriting and often rude. However, these people are working to viciously tight deadlines and budgets and niceties are often forgotten in the melee. It’s worth remembering that whilst as an academic your aim is get the science communicated to the target audience, the producer will probably want a programme that entertains as wide an audience as possible.
In truth, any contribution as an academic is monetised, whether you are offered a fee or not. Every item of content generated (film clip, consultation, access to specimens) is an asset that has some value to the producer.
Bearing this in mind, I would charge for your time and make this clear from the outset. This means if your contribution is used then all’s fine and dandy, and if it isn’t then you’ve got a return on the time and effort you’ve invested in the programme. As an expert your help is valuable and this is a commercial, not academic environment and you deserve to be paid.
The writers they hire to script these programmes are very capable people but they might not be fully versed in the subject they are writing about, and if you are involved early on in the production process guiding a writer who is not an expert then you are actively shaping the narrative of the programme and again this is an asset, and you should charge.
As for contributions being cut, whilst this stings the personal feelings of contributors will not be given get much thought in the edit suite. Like graphics, b-roll footage and voiceover, film assets will be juggled and re-configured to fit. Unless you manage to get seat in the suite when the edit is being cut your contribution is being assessed on a completely different set of criteria to how it was made.
This is all obviously highly unsatisfactory from the point of view of a researcher. For starters, we all love science deeply and are passionate about our research and wish to communicate it clearly and effectively. Academics feel undervalued and marginalised from the production process, and the final product can lack scientific vigour despite your best efforts and conscientious approach when making your contribution. So is there an alternative?
I am eager to include outreach and accessibility solutions when doing my research for my PhD (in fact, I’ve built it into my proposal) and I have been considering new ways to get high-quality science programming and research out to as wide an audience as possible. There may be several ways to do this but I’m still working through the options. There are crowd-funding initiatives that might work, and certainly a model based on a more co-operative approach centred on the science first seems possible. There are a number of content delivery routes worth thinking about too, and some of these are quite exciting.
Thanks Stu! After all these comments I am growing more and more in favour of the idea of just doing “citizen documentaries” where we have full control and can just disseminate via internet etc. The crowd-funding idea is a good one; I am generally uneasy about crowd-funding science but in this case it would be laudable.
This reminds me of a story told about an architect sitting next to a lawyer at a dinner party, and asked him what he should to with people who call on him for advice but never offer to pay.
“Bill them” answered the lawyer.
The next day the architect got a bill of £10 for a consultancy fee.
I have been involved in the making of a number of TV programmes, which given my field of research have largely been about the Loch Ness ****** Monster. The one which made me most angry was where they cut my comments in a very misleading way to make it look as if I was saying that there might be a monster in the Loch, and then cut to some USAian nutcase whose only argument seemed to be that because he was convinced that there is a monster in the Loch, there must be one there. Quite frankly, the product in most cases is so awful that I can’t bear to watch the programmes all the way through.
I have been asked by the BBC to give up several days of my time to help one of their researchers, but when I asked to be paid for my time was quickly dropped, and have not been asked to contribute to any programme since then. I know that they then went to one of my colleagues and got a fair amount of input from him, but again dropped him when he asked for some recompense for his time.
I think that none of us should offer more than a relatively brief comment on some current issue for nothing, and that any time we are asked to put in to contribute to the making of a programme should be charged at a reasonable rate. I ask for £30/hour, because that is what I charge for my services implementing web sites. I think that rates of £100/hour are perfectly reasonable for someone at the top of their profession. Can you imagine a top-class lawyer getting out of bed for as little as that?
The problem is that we are involved with the field of palaeontology not because it offers lucrative career opportunities, but because we are enthralled and fascinated by the science. That makes us eager to communicate our passion, and willing to take any opportunity to do so regardless of whether or not we are being paid.
Nobody else who is asked to contribute to the making of a TV programme is expected to do so for nothing, so why should we?
The more of these comments we read, the more convinced I become that Richard is right, “none of us should offer more than a relatively brief comment on some current issue for nothing, and that any time we are asked to put in to contribute to the making of a programme should be charged at a reasonable rate”.
I my defence, it is a very old story – heard when I was studying Architecture more years ago than I care to think of!
I would tend to agree and probably will go back to more robustly enforcing my time-is-money policy— thanks Richard!
Mind you, Richard’s story is obviously not a true one.
No lawyer would ever charge as little as £10.
My experiences with documentaries has been uniformly negative — my experiences are similar to the (negative) ones of Mark Witton.
I think this is always going to be a problem as long as we on the science side passively wait for documentary film makers to approach us. That means they set the agenda, before even making contact. And their agenda is usually infotainment, not science communication. Given how easy it is to make mini-documentaries for Youtube, podcasts, and similar things, there is an opportunity for those on the science side to set the agenda more.
Mass media was never a good outlet for complex and nuanced topics, and given that TV viewership is in decline, its value to scientists is marginal at best. I say make them pay in all cases, and if you want to get a point across, find an outlet yourself.
two ideas from an animator:
1) If you’ve prepped some how-to’s or reviews of reconstructions, post them on the internet! These are fantastic resources above and beyond the more stringent research papers. Those from svpow have been great resources.
2) The tv stations are destroying any credibility they have with apparent joy, so that I anticipate that the museums will soon be the ‘street-cred’ location for scientific authority… assuming that a) they accumulate the blogging scientists via outreach efforts of their own and b) develop methods to respond to the smart-ass kids and other visitors who are reading up on the latest before visiting the hallowed halls of the museum itself.
I tried to initiate a documentary and multimedia format focusing on museum work (both exhibits, education and research) and was thrilled with the possibilities… initial reaction from the stations was interested, but then quickly deferral. “We would only do something like that if it came from the BBC.”
It will come, I’m sure, but soon we won’t need the stations.
Fascinating to read this.
As a one-time biologist, now filmmaker/writer, I’m disturbed by the anti-filmmaker sentiments expressed here, not because I don’t believe that filmmakers sometimes treat scientists (and other interviewees) badly, but because it’s another symptom of the direction that the TV biz is going, viz. overall de-professionalisation = lower pay for everyone concerned (yes, that includes the producers, who often have to invest vast amounts of time and money before a broadcaster is willing to fund a show) and massive pressure from broadcasters to make everything as sensational/stupid as possible while increasingly disregarding facts.
I may well blog about this issue soon (watch this space http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/nature-up) but in the meantime, I’d encourage scientists to continue to participate in shows, but to make sure that they only give their time and expertise to dedicated filmmakers who are clearly committed to quality. Remember that young/low budget filmmakers are often trying to do the best job they can in an extraordinarily tough business which is increasingly overseen by people who care only about ratings and making stuff cheaply — factual accuracy and social responsibility are values that have almost vanished from large sectors of the industry (if you don’t believe me, read this: http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/nature-up/2013/may/17/bloodthirtsty-wildlife-documentaries-reality-ethics)
There’s a growing trend of good scientists turning down inquiries from filmmakers and journos because they feel like they’re wasting their time. This means that bullshitters come in to take their place & put loads of bad info out on the airwaves (just watch, er, almost any wildlife show in the US). This means more bad TV, and more good scientists running away from filmmakers, a vicious cycle that needs to be broken.
Not all filmmakers are equal. Pick committed, smart filmmakers to work with, understand that they’re operating in truly insane, rapidly-changing industry, and support them against their commissioning producers when those producers pressure them into making bad TV. Realise that filmmakers can’t always give interviewees daily updates on the production process of a show because they’re often simply overwhelmed by email. Weed out the bad guys by demanding to see a broadcaster’s ethics policy or editorial guidelines before going on camera for them. Understand that you might get cut for reasons that have nothing to do with how good a scientist you are, and that taking it personally is just going to make you unhappy for no reason. You also cannot expect filmmakers to be your personal PR agents, just as they should not expect you to do all their research legwork for them.
I look forward to your responses. If any of you would like to comm privately on this issue, I can be reached on natureupblog at gmail dot com (no spaces).
Cheers!
Adam Welz
Thanks Adam! Great to hear from a sane person on the other side of the issue. I think a lot of scientists reading your comment would be nodding their heads about the state of many nature documentaries today.
I don’t think anyone wants daily updates from producers; just a common-sense-level of professional communication. We’re all busy and overwhelmed.
The reaction to getting cut isn’t nearly as much a matter of being personally offended at being cut as it is a matter of being angry at *wasted time*– think about how those busy producers would feel if a scientist took them into their lab for two days of filming and then said “sorry, you can’t use the footage, I’m pulling out”– and amplify that by the fact that in that case, the producers etc would (hopefully) still be getting paid a living wage despite the naughty scientist, and they might well have plenty of footage (given how much is cut in many documentaries) left over to make their programme anyway.
Likewise no one expects filmmakers to be personal PR agents; that would be monumentally naive; but professionalism and fair treatment should be expected by all involved. If we’re not paid, we need something else in return that is fair recompense, or we shouldn’t bother.
Thanks, Adam. Lots of good and interesting stuff here. Just one thing I have to quibble with:
“Realise that filmmakers can’t always give interviewees daily updates on the production process of a show because they’re often simply overwhelmed by email.”
Sorry, that’s BS. If they have a couple of hours to spend on the phone with us pumping us for free consultancy, then they have a couple of minutes to spend on elementary professional courtesy. A filmmaker who doesn’t bother to do this — who doesn’t prioritise this — is treating his sources with contempt, and should not expect to be seen as a professional.
More anonymized comments from Facebookers coming in: “About a month ago, I got a phone call from a production house wanting to come and shoot some film during our experiments in the zoo. I explained the project and he was very interested but then he asked me whether we would be doing anything with the zebra foal that is going to be born around the time of our experiments. When I said that wasn’t part of the project, he said that the head of the team would not come and shoot unless “something” was done with the foal. When I said I was totally fine with not being in the program, [he] was really surprised. I just think we live in different worlds.”
The “surprise” aspect is amusing, and it reminded me of a similar strong-arm tactic used by the team that was flooded out of the excavation one year. After insinuating that we flooded them out on purpose (I can control the rain? Awesome!) they gave the ultimatum that we either get them to the quarry or we were cut from the program. We laughed (what else could we do) and told them to go ahead and cut us. They, too, were dumbfounded that we didn’t move heaven and earth (and gallons of water) to get on TV. I think these companies assume that researchers (perhaps specifically young researchers) will bend over backwards to get publicity. As was pointed out before, it doesn’t cost a production company anything to at least be civil and generous with thanks or praise (or to at least not act like weeds.)
wow! what great comments! I can’t add to that but only to say that it seem to be more and more common practice to ask, especially people with in dept knowledge or skills to do things for free and the knowledge and skills are taken for granted. On the other hand: I see more and more professionals not accepting it anymore.
I do think you should ask £100/h again or even more. Not because you need it, but the cliche “when you pay peanuts, you get monkeys” is true the other way around also: people tend to take free work for granted. As a freelance science illustrator, I don’t work for free only because a person says it is “so great for my exposure”, you shouldn’t either. With you and your team they get access to an enormous amount of expertise and that should be appreciated accordingly. They shouldn’t dismiss your contribution so easily without a very good reason. But I think they will not understand that most of the time. they do understand money though.
P.S. perfect example that latest phone call: indeed different worlds!
Excellent comment here, from Sarah Werning on SVP’s Facebook page– ” I’m pretty much done with documentaries for now, for two reasons: the last time I participated in one, I was told I would be paid for my time and image use, but the check didn’t come. Repeated calls/emails were ignored. Second, I’m tired of being tokenized. “We need a WOMAN SCIENTIST!” the end-Permian extinction, when I work on bone and growth evolution). When I ask about this, the producers’ assistants are usually pretty straightforwardcandid: we would like a woman paleontologist to show how”
That’s an interesting perspective. I like to think of myself as an advocate for women and minorities in science, even though there’s not always a lot I can do. For that reason, I view being asked to be the ‘token lady palaeontologist’ as somewhat of a double-edged sword: I really, really like being able to show people that there are female palaeontologists, and I like being able to mentor others, but I also get frustrated that it is 2013 and I am always, *always* asked why, as a girl, I like dinosaurs. I certainly have not been asked to consult or participate in documentaries nearly as often as most of the people commenting here probably have, but I worry that if I were to refuse to consult unless I was paid, that there simply wouldn’t be any female voices or faces contributing to the documentary.
Another perspective: I’ve been funded by government scholarships for most of my time in grad school, and so I consider public outreach, and specifically outreach related to my research, to be part of what I ‘owe’ Canada for helping me to do research. Documentaries and/or press releases are one way to do this, but I also try to blog about my research and do public talks or lab tours. I think it would be super cool if more universities and museums could produce their own YouTube videos, like the Brain Scoop for example. Maybe that’s one direction we’ll head in over time.
Yes, definitely! It doesn’t take a lot of equipment to make a very professional segment so long as you have one or two people with the relevant skills.
When our paper on Brontomerus came out, I spent maybe an hour filming in the Grant Museum with a video guy from UCL, and from that he put together this professional and scientifically sound video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3nxOr5GvFYQ Admittedly I sound like a dork, and if we’d taken a bit more time we could have re-done some parts with less jargon, but it does show what can be done quickly and easily.
“…but I worry that if I were to refuse to consult unless I was paid, that there simply wouldn’t be any female voices or faces contributing to the documentary.”
On the flip side of this, I worry about setting the precedent of undervaluing your time and expertise.
Filming is incredibly disruptive – whenever a film crew is in the lab, the entire place is effectively on closedown, with specimens brought in from collections areas and workbenches set up as props. Everyone (that’s 6 of us) is on tiptoes, so little productive work gets done and you have to be eagle eyed as the interviewer and director always want to move the fossils into/out of shot. If these sessions were costed on a commercial basis and charged, it would be pretty serious money.
Anonymous comment via email: “”The same goes for development work, where you spend ages giving them the ideas and stuff and then nothing happens AND THEY NEVER EVEN LET YOU KNOW. If I treated students the way some media people have treated me, I’d be sacked. They can be so bloody rude – expecting you to give them ideas, sort things out, then dropping you without a word.
On a more positive note, I have been paid for consultancy work on programmes, even when I wasn’t particularly expecting to be (this involved reading scripts, advising on orientation, fact-checking etc). I have also been pleasantly surprised when I have been watching TV, suddenly realised that what I am watching was something I spent an hour or so talking to some researcher about months earlier and had completely forgotten about. Didn’t get paid for it, but there was a credit, and the end product was terrific, so I didn’t mind too much. But an email saying “BTW that thing you told us about is on this week” would have been considerate. Ah, but I forget – they are all so busy, unlike us.
Finally, yes – ask them for money. Your time is at least as precious as theirs. And their budgets are larger, whatever they say.”
I think this comes from the pervasive notion that everyone is always desperate to be on TV. That idea is nurtured by all the interviews on X-Factor and similar programs — all the “I really, really, really want this” and “this is my one big chance”. It leaves people who have the power of decision with an unhealthy feeling of invulnerability, as though they are far above the ordinary people, the supplicants, that they deal with, So I think that just not caring whether we’re on TV or not is one of the most powerful things we can do (as in some of the stories above).
Quite. The “I’m so busy” excuse never washes. What it always actually means is “You’re not important to me and I can’t be bothered”.
I have done several such shoots over the years, and early on I learned from a film crew the most useful bit of advice: “You know how you can tell when a producer/director/whatever is lying to you? His/her lips move.”
So I learned early on NOT to expect to like whatever happened to the footage I shot. And I figured if the production company is paying for the camera and sound guy and the director, they might as well pay the talent (that would be me) something.
I’m a cheap date. In the past I have only charged $500 US per day for my time. I may up that in the future, if anybody should ever ask again. But no production company ever batted an eye at my request.
I will say that I have worked for no compensation during shoots for the BBC and Nova (US Public TV), but in those instances I was being taken at their expense to field localities or museums where I was able to do some research, and stay in a nice hotel and eat well at no cost to myself.
In such cases I always arrange to arrive on location before the shoot, or stay after the shoot, to do my work, and so far the production company has always agreed. So I get some nice data without having to write a grant proposal.
That’s the kind of thing I weigh in my mind if I am contacted by production companies. If it gets me someplace I want to go for free, I’m all for it, even if I don’t get paid for my time. If they come to my lab to do talking head or other staged things, I charge them, or it’s no go.
And I never assume that they will actually use the footage they shoot. If they do use it, and I don’t die of embarrassment (I’ve come close to this) I just figure that’s gravy.
Good advice, thanks Jim!
Absolutely agree with Jim here. I would consider being provided with travel (which sometimes also works out to “paid-for museum research time”) as very reasonable compensation.
[…] On the perils and frustrations of scientists working with TV documentaries […]
Suppose you were to refuse to work for free, set a nice high rate, and offer a discount if they actually use your footage? It sounds like it’s almost as annoying to have your footage cut as for you not to get paid. Pick a rate that compensates you for the disappointment and loss of exposure.
But if you give away your time, you ought not to be too surprised that they don’t insist on paying you!
Just to follow up on the situation described earlier by Mark Witton- I’m sorry to hear that he regrets being involved, and I may have had a lucky escape there. The company in question initially came to me. I put in literally days of work, gave them several collection visits, corrected all their erroneous understandings of pterosaurs, etc. Then the museum press office started to crack down and said I’d done more than enough for free, which was true, and that XYZ Media would have to start paying the going rate for museum staff time. By this point the researcher was phoning me on my mobile at all hours of the day and night. Although I wanted to help, the press office said a big NO, and then it went all quiet. Sorry Mark! You need to get a tougher press office.
This issue certainly is tricky. TV & Press is potentially a good outlet for science, when done properly. My partner is self-employed, scratching a living as a writer, artist and occasional builder, and is constantly approached by TV companies who want his time and energy. In most instances, he has to push hard to even get expenses out of them, let alone anything towards his time. In fact he was left very bitter after a certain large British organisation led him to believe that they were making a film about his work, but instead used him as a local driver / fixer while they filmed something else. It’s not so bad for me, I get my salary whatever I’m doing, but why should a self-employed person to give up their time for free?
However, a few years ago, we did benefit from flights and hotel bookings made by Discovery Channel, who pulled out of filming the day before departure, and could not get refunds on the tickets. That meant two weeks fieldwork, paid for by Discovery, but I doubt this happens often!
And believe me, TV budgets are not tight. Discovery fly their film crew in business class and put them in fine hotels.
Great examples and points, Lorna- thanks for this! I agree that more fair payment and treatment all around would be a good thing. Seems like a select minority get the red carpet treatment and the rest of us get the raw end of the deal.
Did they fly you in business class with their crew? Or were you back with the plebs?
Interesting story in which the NHM press office come out as the good guys. This sort of experience goes some way to explaining why they are so difficult to deal with when trying to do something of obvious relevance to the museum — for example, the incredible hoops the UoP publicity people had to go through before they could get permission to film a couple of segments at the museum when Xenoposeidon came out. I’ve grown used to referring to them as the Department for the Prevention of Publicity, but I guess I can see things a little more from their side now.
Oh no, business class for the crew, cattle class for the scientists, where they belong! Generally the NHM puts off all but the most serious film makers, and your title for them is fully justified! But they do ensure that we don’t spend days working for the media for nothing.
Business-class for crew, cattle for talent is iniquitous. That said, it got you where you were going, and I’ve always thought cattle->business upgrades are about the worst value money can buy, certainly for short flights.
As a science writer for print, and a consultant rather than an employee, I see similar things. There are pressures on all sides.
One of the ugly little secrets about writing or telling any kind of story is that writers need to gather more information than we can use in order to understand the story well enough to tell it to our audience. We have to simplify for the audience, so details are going to get cut in favor of talking about the neat stuff. Then there are editors, who ask for outside comments, then cut them when they squeeze your carefully told 600 word story into a 400-word slot. And sadly there sometimes are editors who don’t find paleontology as fascinating as those of us who write about it or do the science.
Mostly, I talk with scientists on the phone and at conferences, and most of you are wonderfully helpful and generous with your time.
I did find myself on the other end of the documentary business a couple of times. Once the foundation that funded me to write a book on the history of fiber optics funded a documentary based on the book. I did receive a consulting fee, and got screen time, but it wound up taking a lot of time. On the other hand, I already had been paid well by the foundation for writing the book, and it probably helped sell more copies of the book.
The other time was more typical of what you’re complaining about. I have also written about laser weapons, so a crew filming “The Science of Men in Black” asked me to go on camera to talk about lasers and ray guns. I thought it would be fun and might impress my nephews, so I spent an afternoon in a laser lab talking and showing off lasers. Never heard another word from them, and have never heard a word about the final product, so I assume it evaporated somewhere along the line.
There are no easy answers, but it’s definitely worth asking some serious questions before you make any commitments to documentary developers beyond your time on the phone.
Thanks for your examples, Jeff– wholly agreed, there are sometimes no easy answers on this issue!
I don’t understand why you say there are no easy answers. What’s difficult about saying “no” when someone asks you to work for free? I’m not getting what the pressure is to say “yes.”
Sometimes the show seems good enough that you’d want to take the risk of getting no payment. BBC currently does not pay (normally) so one has to choose if one accepts that current situation. The journey ahead should be to make paying scientists for their time a normal occurrence, but that journey will take time and some flexibility might help more than inflexibility would. Cultural change is slow; like numerous people have said, given the poor quality of programming now, less scientists getting involved (or just worse, less principled ones) could cause a further downturn in quality. One has to weigh “selfish” (fairness) concerns vs. science education/outreach potential; we do care about the latter.
I think the main pressure for most of us is the desire to contribute to something good and (maybe even more important) do our bit to prevent something bad. For women (see Victoria’s comment) there may be an additional motivation to do something toward addressing gender imbalance.
We can legitimate disagree about how strong those pressures are; but they do exist.
If there are intangible benefits, I can see why someone might decide to do the work for free. What’s confusing me is being unwilling to do the work for free, and yet agreeing to do the work for free anyway. Isn’t it a little like volunteering at the local soup kitchen, and then being upset that no paycheck is involved? Each of us has to decide if and when to donate services; once the decision is made, what’s there to complain about?
People don’t pay us because we intrinsically deserve it. They pay us because they want something from us that they can’t get without paying for it. If they can go next door and find a guy who’s willing to do the work for free, because it’s fun, or socially meaningful, or good publicity, they’ll go to him instead of paying us. There won’t be a paying market for it as long as people enjoy doing it for its own sake. It’s the same reason you can’t get someone to pay you to read a good book that you enjoy.
I think the general point here, Texan99, is that scientists are coming around to the idea that they’ve been treated unfairly (sometimes it is easy to overlook this in life, or live in denial of it) and are debating courses of action they might take (individually or en masse). Pay vs. no pay is only part of the issue; overall fairness of treatment is what I think most of us really want, which might be achieved in several ways. One might be flexible in which ways one achieves that “fair outcome” with a given documentary on an individual basis, or just have a general policy (“no pay, no play”).
There often is little clear agreement in advance between scientists and documentary producers; of course that is a bad thing (we tend not to be businesspeople/accountants/lawyers in mindset and hence such outwardly seeming mistakes happen). This needs to change, as it is leading to some of the discontent, and seems to lead to documentary makers doing whatever they please with no risk for themselves.
I think there’s a culture clash here that gives rise to the problem.
Most fundamentally, the way science works best is when people help each other out without necessarily expecting any immediate recompense, trusting that what goes around comes around. As a result, it tends to be the case (with obvious exceptions) that the most successful scientists are often genuinely helpful people. I might add that John himself is great example of this tendency.
And of course the most successful scientists are the ones that documentary makers mostly want to use. If my assertion is correct, then they are the very ones who find it most natural to help people out freely. That’s the culture of science.
Whereas the culture of TV is much more based around deal-making, and trying to get the best bargain you can right now. (That may be in part because TV works on much shorter timescales than science.) I would guess that it comes naturally to most people in TV to “open the bidding at zero”, inviting consultants to work for free and happily accepting that outcome if it’s available. It doesn’t necessarily follow that they are Bad Guys: they’re just playing by the rules they’re used to.
(An analogy: when non-Londoners drive a car in London, they tend to find it scary and feel that Londoners are aggressive drivers. Bu they’re just driving the way that you drive in London. They’re not out to get you. They just assume without even thinking about it that you’ll be playing by the same rules as them.
So I am starting to warm up the hypothesis that TV people who invite us to work for free are mostly expecting us to push back and negotiate (and are pleasantly surprised at how rarely that happens). I think that hypothesis is supported by some experiences recounted above in which TV people did come up with money when asked.
So may it’s this simple: we just need to ask. No need to be bolshie, or start a revolution. Just state an hourly rate, like a business would, and let them take it or leave it, or negotiate.
Yes I think this is part of it; definitely 2 cultures at play; and not just helpfulness but also an expectation of trustworthiness and open communication. I do ask for pay, pretty much always, but the BBC does not pay (along with many others), so whether one wants to call it revolution or polite negotiation, big change needs to take place in both how scientists push for fairness and how documentary makers build more fairness into the system.
In this, as in everything else, the BBC is surely a special case. It’s not clear why they shouldn’t pay, but so long as they’re consistent you can make your choice on the basis of how you feel about what they do. For whatever it’s worth, I’d pretty much always be happy to work with them.
John, there’s a school of thought in which a good way to ensure fairness is for people to bargain freely, so that neither goes forward unless both are satisfied. I understand that it can be jarring to enter the world of bargaining when you’re used to a more informal, non-commercial give-and-take with trusted friends and colleagues. The trick is to think of the documentarists in about the same way you think of the guy you buy your lab supplies from. If you work with the same documentarist for a while, you may develop enough of a personal relationship that you can both dispense with bargaining and agreements and operate instead on the basis of trust, flexibility, patience, and generosity, but that takes time and work.
Mike hit the nail right on the head. There’s nothing hostile about politely explaining that your time is available at a particular price. No one but you can set that price so that it takes into account how eager you are to be involved without regard for cash pay, given the other benefits you see from participation (amusement, public education, publicity, the pleasure of engagement). For that reason, I think Mike’s approach holds more promise than the notion of a general policy or a mandated payscale. The only place you really need a policy on this subject is in your own head.
IANAS, and nobody wants to interview me for a documentary, but it seems clear what the solution is: It needs to become standard practice for scientists to get paid for their time. Maybe not in the initial phone call/out for coffee stage, but once they are having you set up experiments and filming, you should get paid for that.
It does not seem broken to me that there is a 60/40 chance of getting cut. That actually makes a lot of sense — as you say, it is market-driven, if they want to produce a quality documentary they are going to have to gather significantly MORE material than they need, and then just keep the best. That is all fine. The problem is if your only compensation is a 40% chance of appearing in a documentary. That might be fair compensation for somebody auditioning to be on American Idol, but it’s no way to treat a professional.
If it makes you feel any better, it is not just “hard scientists” who get pro-bono’ed. All of my media (except my column) is free, and takes a lot of time. I do it to educate people and destigmatize mental illness (not quite your goal, but you have your own). And there are plenty of 20 minute (and more) phone calls with lawyers who never hire me but definitely use my knowledge. They certainly bill for that time, but I do not see it. But once in a while a lawyer will come through, and I will get involved in an interesting case and I know that my input can add a new perspective.
Hi John – good read. I’ve been pretty lucky so far in my documentary experiences. While I’ve had footage significantly cut back, I haven’t been dropped out yet. By and large though I’ve also come at this from a different (not entirely transferable) perspective.
When I was at the WDC this sort of thing was part of my job description, so I was in fact getting paid to do it. As a result I was able to make my time available with less remorse over the possibility of wasting it, and I often felt like the extra time was valuable in shaping where the content headed, even if my own appearance on video was minimal (obviously the success of this varied from project to project).
Since then I’ve been lucky enough to act as a consultant and even a designer, so I got to have a more direct impact on the aspects of the end result (and I got paid). Obviously the sausage never comes out exactly as it would if I had personal control, but it’s been very satisfying to see what impact there was.
That said, I have seen several specials where little or no credit was given to the scientists that provided advice (often free of charge), which seems ludicrous in an industry that is otherwise so preoccupied with crediting every last person that carries coffee on a set.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if professional societies created sample agreements that could be used (or modified) for these sorts of events. If scientists routinely ask for similar things (e.g. credit) it would eventually set expectations for the production companies I would think.
Anyhow, I hope you hang in there, for as frustrating as the bad experiences can be, I think the overall quality of programming would dip further if scientists started simply ignoring requests for assistance.
Thanks Scott- your 4th paragraph nails it. I’ve found it hard even getting acknowledged in the credits of documentaries (although they can be very brief overall). I was thinking along the same lines about the “sample agreements”- if these got disseminated, more scientists would be working to the same standards which could enact broader change of practice like you say.
There is power in saying “no” to documentaries that won’t pay, and scientists should flex that power more often; that is definitely a recurrent theme here. But saying “no” to bad but generous documentaries has its power, too.
Example: I was offered a free trip to New Zealand, some pay, and other perks to be in a documentary ~10 years ago. The idea was to build a “biomechanical” elephant and have it fight a “biomechanical” (these things in documentaries often just mean “lame robotic machine”, not a Newtonian, rigorous analysis like it would mean to a scientist) rhinoceros. It was kind of tempting to a young scientist like me back then, but I quickly said no, because I was busy even then, thought it was a risky distraction from my real research, and it sounded like a terrible idea. The show was aired as “Animal Faceoff”, and I saw some of it… I was relieved to have said no. A few years later I was filmed (for free, and not cut) for a BBC special and had a chat with the director while driving to a filming location. He was talking about a terrible documentary that had aired a while ago and we came to realize that it was this same Animal Faceoff, so we had a good laugh and bonded over how bad some of those documentaries were even back then.
And yet, and yet …
… I find myself really wanting to watch the robot elephant fight the robot rhino.
Do they have lasers?
I know, I know… it was quite a popular show, I think, so you’re not alone. I tried to find videos of the robots but failed. No lasers. Not sure if that’s a bad or good thing in this case.
I’ve yet to see a situation where lack of lasers was a good thing.
As the author of Understanding Lasers, Beam Weapons, the Laser Guidebook, and Beam: The Race to Make the Laser, that has to be my quote of the day. (G)
Some very candid comments here from my old PhD thesis advisor, Kevin Padian (posted with permission):
Suggestions for dealing with documentary-makers
1. Before starting, the film crew will usually want you to sign a form that says they have permission to use the film they make of you. DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING until all filming is done. You may hear that “we need this for the front office,” “It’s really important that you sign right away,” “We can’t proceed until you sign this.” Lies. Your signature gives away all of your rights, so make sure you’re happy with what they’ve done. And all you need to say is, “Well, let’s see how the filming goes, and then we’ll discuss signing.” And before you sign, read the contract and scratch out any passages you don’t like. These are written by their lawyers in an attempt to excuse them from any possible misuses of and offenses to your work, and to deny you all recourse. They won’t object to alterations because they know these forms are nonsense, but they have to have them in order to broadcast you. Remember, they’ve spent the money to come to you. If you scratch the whole day of filming, they’re back to square one. This is your only leverage unless you get money in advance. Which brings us to …
2. Require compensation for what you do, given the context of the duties of your job. Spending days helping people make documentaries is usually not part of your job as a professor, curator, or staff member (it may be if you are a media or education staff member). Yes, “public service” encompasses helping people explain science to the public, but you can do this in other ways: answering queries from reporters, getting involved with state science teacher organizations, writing popular science articles. These are done on your terms. In contrast, how much does your advancement depend on working with documentary-makers? How much does your institution value this, and what will it do to show appreciation? Do you have evidence of this? So we’re getting to “cui bono?” Film-makers take lots of your time and effort, and you may well get nothing out of it, either in media exposure or compensation, unless you demand it. And if your institution cares little for this kind of effort, then you’re wasting your time.
How much to charge? $500-1000 per day or more, depending on the job, the demands on you, and your level of expertise, as well as for-profit vs. non-profit considerations, plus your assessment of whether they’ve got their act together or they’re just stumbling around (this kind is more difficult to work with). Most companies will not balk at this. They may not have budgeted it, foolishly, but they’ll find it. Bottom line is this: in business, people don’t respect what they don’t have to pay for. You have no control over the eventual product. So it shouldn’t be a total loss. And get the agreement in writing. If scientists and museums don’t charge, film-makers will never learn to pay for what they value.
3. Require compensation for institutional costs, if appropriate. To work in a lab or museum, move around specimens, open exhibits, get out specimens and arrange them, takes a lot of time from you and the staff, and possibly students. It exposes the specimens to potential damage. Your museum or department unit should establish policies and cost structures and stick to them. And if the filmmaker is surprised and says they haven’t budgeted for this, commiserate with his inexperience and ask if he asked his film and sound crew to work for nothing. Of course, you can negotiate if you want to. Your museum or research unit may have a separate form that needs attention; it may even convey campus regulations about campus landmarks that may or may not be photographed without permission or compensation (important because filmmakers often want those “scene-setting” shots).
Don’t be deceived if the director says, but wait, we’re making this for PBS or NGS or BBC, and that’s a non-profit. The director’s filming company is not a non-profit. They’re paying everyone else union wages. Bet on it.
4. Myth: scientists are dying to be on TV. Filmmakers and TV people assume this. One production assistant wanted me to drive to a distant studio at 4 in the morning on a Sunday so that a news personality could interview me remotely about a dinosaur that we didn’t even collect. No thanks, I said. “But it’s Soledad O’Brien!” she exclaimed. Thanks lady, I’ll take the extra sleep.
The same film-makers will tell you how great exposure in films like this will be for your research, although it’s not clear how this greatness is measured. Over more than three decades in this field I know of very, very few examples where media exposure brought in research support for the scientist. Yes, there are exceptions, usually with exceptional people or stories, but these events are usually random. You can’t expect a return on this investment. And the sad fact is that some colleagues resent those who appear on documentaries (and yes, this can turn up in grant reviews). The bottom line is to work with the most responsible outfits possible. If you take a strong hand in representing the science, you’ll come off well.
5. Choose wisely. By all means, encourage documentary-makers, but keep your antennae constantly attuned for bunk and incompetence. As these factors rise, back off. If you find you are having to explain the most basic, basic concepts of things to them, suggest they get a better writer and come back another time. Or offer to write the script for them as a work for hire, payable half in advance and half when you finish. That’s apart from your other charges. They won’t want to do either of those things but at least they’ll see what shape they’re in.
Ask a lot of questions when you are first contacted, and don’t be afraid to make it clear if they are asking the wrong questions in their script or have unrealistic expectations. Better they know it earlier. Remember that their writers are normally not scholars in the field, so they are likely to miss many of the important finds, ideas, questions, and people.
6. Not all “documentary-makers” are the same. There was the German guy who wrote to ask if we could do a bit on animal flight. He seemed knowledgable, so I said sure. He came in by himself, filmed a bit in the lab, we drove out and watched some birds that he filmed, and that was that. I got a nice check and a DVD of his program, which was good. Then there was the other nice and seemingly well-informed guy who wanted to do a program about evolution and fossils. He spoke to me, others in our museum, Dr. Eugenie Scott at NCSE, and just about anyone who was anyone at the time in SVP, all over the US. Many years later he released the film and he turned out to be a creationist (by no means the first time that’s happened). Fine: no one said anything outrageous. Then there was the famous NOVA producer of several decades ago who wanted to dramatize the field findings, “recreate” their discoveries including with the original fossils (now types), and re-enact bogus “dialogue” to capture the Eureka moment.
On the other hand, TV programs need eyeballs, and if necessary their producers (and the network brass) have no problem distorting and sensationalizing what you say and going for the lowest common denominator. The people working most closely with you are usually the most sympathetic to the science; the suits at the Mother Ship, not so much. And there’s a constant struggle. The on-scene director is arguing about money with the producer, often because he wants to film new things that they hadn’t anticipated because their writer hadn’t done his research properly. So couldn’t they please have another two days’ funding to go see this guy who’s written the book on this cool new approach to the field?? …
The crew will appreciate it if you can think of efficient and economical ways to do things that will cut their costs and time. Sometimes, over lunch, it turns out that they plan to go visit a place that won’t help them at all, while missing a great researcher not far from there. All we can do is to try to help them get the science right.
7. Avoid potentially embarrassing and time-wasting scenes. When you are first introduced in the film, some explanation of you and your work is necessary. This will be done with a voice-over narrator while you do something relatively inconsequential, like walk into the building, carry specimens around, or stare into a microscope (even if you seldom use one). This is called “B-roll” film – just stuff to fill time. My policy is: “no walking into the building shots.” If I’m doing something I’d usually do, fine to film; otherwise this is a waste of time.
When you’re asked a question, pause and think before you answer; you’ll be less likely to stumble and have to stop in the middle. If you think there is a better way to ask the question, or that it should be divided into two or more questions, say so. Remember that normally they won’t give you much airtime to speak in a particular excerpt – a few seconds at most – except if you’re telling a really good story (see Neil Shubin on how they found Tiktaalik). So, be brief and to the point. If you go on too long, they will want to take an excerpt, but if they can’t find one or two sentences that form a pithy comment, they’ll just drop it entirely.
Avoid getting either too excited or too agitated. We’re all excited about our research. You may be filmed having a long dialogue with the director (the entirety of which you know they will NEVER show), and you’re getting more and more into your work, and finally he asks a question and you say, “Yeah! That was awesome!” Be assured that the last line is most likely the only one that will make it into the piece, and that it will likely be attached to a completely different subject.
Avoid being baited. A producer once suddenly asked me on-camera, in the midst of a long and substantial discussion, “So-and-so thinks your work is crap. What do you think about that?” The only answer to make is: “I think this interview is over,” and walk out. You won’t have a better indication of the kind of film they want to make.
8. Bottom line: is it worth it? We all agree that it’s important to get good science in front of the public. And most of us don’t have a problem with pitching in time, usually gratis, to do this. But there is an equation of diminishing returns. The main factors are how well the producers and writers have conceived the idea and done their homework. Next is how realistic their expectations are for using certain specimens, getting access to field sites, and so on. After that is how they deal with you and your science.
And finally: you can spend two days with a crew and wind up on the cutting room floor, or with maybe a five-second random comment in the film. That’s just the business. No harm, no foul. So make sure it’s worth it to you.
Lots of great stuff here. In particular this:
How much to charge? $500-1000 per day or more, depending on the job, the demands on you, and your level of expertise, as well as for-profit vs. non-profit considerations, plus your assessment of whether they’ve got their act together or they’re just stumbling around (this kind is more difficult to work with). Most companies will not balk at this.
Agreed! For one of my first projects I got something like $750-800 per day of shooting, and I always asked for that much on subsequent projects. They couldn’t always find it–I have gone down to half that much if it meant a free plane ticket to a museum I wanted to visit anyway–but I’ve found that asking for that much up front is a useful shot across the bows to let them know that your time is valuable.
[…] « TV Nature Documentaries: Why Bother? […]
Yup, Padian is right there. I’m happy to say that the good old NHM Press Office take care of all that stuff. Well, most of it. This discussion has made me appreciate them more! To everyone else- maybe hire an agent? 😉
Useful flow chart, via Andy Farke: http://shouldiworkforfree.com/#no5
I’m pitching in to this discussion again from the filmmakers’ side of things because some of what I’m reading doesn’t add up to my experience in the industry.
1) The idea that filmmakers are loaded, have huge expense accounts and fly everywhere in business class is a joke. Doc budgets have been shrinking fast in recent years & don’t know anyone who operates like this. Some hard-working doc filmmakers may occasionally use frequent flyer miles to upgrade, but I have not heard of a doc filmmaker getting business class tix on a job since, well, the 1990s.
2) I see a lot of people generalising about filmmakers, as if they’re all the same. This is nonsense. There *is* massive pressure from the broadcasters to bring shows in as cheaply and sensationally as possible, especially in the US, and many producers thus hire cheap, young, clueless research assistants and bullshitter directors. This is a problem for me as a serious filmmaker as well as for you as a scientist that wants to communicate their work to the world. Instead of railing against all doc filmmakers, find out a bit about who you’ll be working with. If a filmmaker is a jerk and doesn’t have a clue about the subject matter, don’t work with them — but if you adopt a dismissive attitude towards a filmmaker who *does* have a clue & takes their profession seriously, *we all lose out*. Scientists don’t get their work communicated and good filmmakers get forced into bankruptcy.
3) There is a lot of junk TV out there, but there are also filmmakers who take their craft extremely seriously, who agonise over every cut and every second of footage. The idea that scientists can just set themselves up with a cheap camera and do a great show is patronising to those of us who know that there’s a lot more to it, just as there is a lot more to paleontology than grubbing around in muddy holes.
4) I can’t emphasise this more strongly: If someone approaches you, find out what the broadcaster’s/producer’s ethics policy is, and how committed they are to the factual integrity of what they do. This single step will weed out a lot of bullshitters.
5) Adopting a rigid ‘no pay, no play’ rule is not, IMHO, productive. If a filmmaker wants to make you do anything out of the ordinary, i.e. turn you into an actor, by all means ask them to pay you. If you need to go somewhere out of the ordinary for an interview, by all means ask for travel expenses. If you need to set up a fancy set, or you are asked to write a script — by all means charge for that.
But if you start charging to do straightforward interviews or just to appear on camera, *many serious filmmakers will go away*. Why? *For the same reason that serious journalists do not pay for interviews*, because it distorts the process and brings both filmmaker and interviewer’s cred into question. I don’t want to be seen to be paying someone to say something, and I don’t think it’s good for your reputation to be seen to be being paid to say something.
I will always be careful to inconvenience the people I’m filming as little as possible. I like to shoot people doing what they normally do, without intrusively directing them. There are filmmakers who demand that you rearrange your life to meet them and then treat you like an unpaid actor — by all means ice them out. But don’t assume we’re all like that!
6) I like the idea of scientists joining up with talented filmmakers to make films about their work, to be released through non-traditional channels. I would love to make films like this. It’s a great way to do an end-run around the sensationalist broadcasters. But recognise that quality filmmaking is still, despite new digital tech, expensive, and you’ll have to find a way of making it financially worthwhile for all concerned.
Cheers!
If you need to go somewhere out of the ordinary for an interview, by all means ask for travel expenses.
What!? I have never been on a shoot anywhere, from 30 miles away to across the country, where the production company didn’t offer to cover all of my travel, lodging, and food up front. You shouldn’t have to ask for travel expenses–if they’re not offered up front, that’s your first red flag.
But if you start charging to do straightforward interviews or just to appear on camera, *many serious filmmakers will go away*.
That’s fine. Reread Kevin Padian’s comment: they’re not offering us anything that valuable to begin with.
I am a degreed professional with a demanding job. A whole workday is an immense chunk of my time. If I’m going to go to South Dakota or whatever to shoot a documentary, I damn well am going to get reimbursed for my time. If the company can’t scare up a few hundred bucks to make that happen, it’s another red flag, that they didn’t budget enough to make a decent program.
In short: scientists, keep pushing for fair treatment and adequate compensation. If you don’t get it, walk.
Dear Matt
I, too, am a (multi-)degreed professional. I think pretty much everyone in this discussion is. A whole workday is also an immense chunk of my time.
I moved from science to a career in the media because a) I enjoy communicating and b) I was disturbed at how little of the great stuff that goes on in scientific institutions makes it into the public discourse. I gave up the chance of a salaried job with healthcare benefits for a very insecure, freelance existence to do so.
Next time research funding is cut at your local university, or a stupid politician talks about what garbage climate change is, or someone wants to close the research wing of a major museum (hello Chicago!) or wonders to themselves behind your back about why taxpayer dollars should support something as irrelevant to solving the major problems of the world as the pneumaticity of old bones, I’d like you to think back at the time that you told the world (and this writer/filmmaker) that what filmmakers have to offer you (and, by extension, the scientific professions) is not that valuable to begin with.
Newsflash: Most members of the public, who via taxpayer dollars or museum entrance fees or donations fund the sort of work you do, *don’t give a rat’s ass about what most scientists do*. Scientists, who are often so consumed by their own academic debates deep in the bowels of their ossified institutions, have an almost unbelievable inability to understand how irrelevant much of the world thinks they are.
If you’d like to carry on figuring out how well old bones float and speculating as to how dinosaurs breathed, I’d like to respectfully suggest that you rethink your attitude towards the media professionals who could assist you in keeping your job by telling the world how interesting and relevant you are.
Feel free to walk if you don’t get the dollars and the groveling that you require from filmmakers. Feel free to encourage your fellow scientists to dismiss what we do. It’s a free world, and it’s a very short walk from most research institutions to the restaurants that employ more and more waiters with science PhDs.
Cheers!
Adam
(And there I was, trying to build understanding…)
Scientists, who are often so consumed by their own academic debates deep in the bowels of their ossified institutions, have an almost unbelievable inability to understand how irrelevant much of the world thinks they are.
Ah, thanks for that insulting, broad-brush dismissal with no qualifiers. Now that we know what you think of us….
If you’d like to carry on figuring out how well old bones float and speculating as to how dinosaurs breathed, I’d like to respectfully suggest that you rethink your attitude towards the media professionals who could assist you in keeping your job by telling the world how interesting and relevant you are.
Of course, of course, because going on TV and having my words mangled by morons is the only way to reach the public. I suppose publishing in open-source journals, blogging, giving public lectures, and so on counts for nothing.
Feel free to walk if you don’t get the dollars and the groveling that you require from filmmakers.
Groveling? I never asked for groveling. You’re just nakedly making stuff up now. All I ever asked for–and all I’ve encouraged others here to seek–is fair compensation for my time and theirs. I’ve never turned down a documentary appearance because the production company couldn’t pay–but then, I’ve never dealt with a production company that didn’t offer to reimburse me for my time. And even in that limited set, I’ve already been burned once when the program made it to air.
(And there I was, trying to build understanding…)
Yeah, by being the latest in a long line of media people telling us how important it is for us to kowtow, and could we go ahead and move our hair to the side so the axe can get a good, clean bite. We’ve had plenty of that kind of “understanding” already. We’re trying to figure out how to avoid it in the future.
Thank you Adam for another helpful comment. I am not intending to try out a very rigid no-pay-no-play policy but I will be pushier earlier on in the future, and if that loses me some PR, that’s too bad. I think I will have my own contracts drawn up in the future, though, with some legal advice, so I get treated more fairly, and I’ll be saying “no” more often.
But I still recognize the value of a talented, professional, honest filmmaker (I agree with you that they exist! In my past experience, personally, the Windfall Films guys were one of them) so it’s always going to be a case-by-case basis, weighing all the pros and cons, and your point about doing your homework on the ethics/other qualities of a filmmaker is a very good one.
I hope that more scientists blog about their personal experiences with documentaries so that word can get out who is good/bad to work with; scientist “peer review” of documentaries/science-ish programmes is quickly becoming common (cough, Mermaids, cough!).
However, also a lot of the final decisions/policies come from executives, so we have to be careful not only about the filmmakers but the behaviour of those who hire them and decide what makes the final cut, which is where I feel I’ve been burned too much, and it sounds like you have similar experiences from your perspective. So I hope to see more of the “indie” style documentaries teaming up top filmmakers and scientists with less of the sensationalist broadcasters mucking it up for them. Of course the standard format of TV documentaries isn’t going away, so we all have to learn to work together and find a fair outcome where we can.
Later this summer when I have more time, I am hoping to get some scientific professional societies or government funding bodies involved in this issue, because I think scientists are still in a weak position on the bargaining table, with little clout in negotiations (except to say no), with few guidelines or rules protecting them — and many scientists are not educated on how to best deal with a documentary (I’ve had to learn as I go, and my discussions with other scientists this week have proven to me we could have all been saved some grief by some expert input). So there could be more dissemination of sound advice than there is now.
It would help to have more open dialogues between all parties involved— so thanks for making an honest effort to keep dialogue going. You’re the only filmmaker I see here (although some others have relevant experience from various perspectives), so that shows you care. BBC Horizon producers/execs were sent this blog’s link and they have been quite silent. It seems to me that the BBC has to confront its general(ish) policy of not paying scientists for their time and come to some sort of more equitable solution; I can think of numerous options.
Dear Matt
Anyone who knows me and knows my work also knows full well that I respect the scientific enterprise. Google me and see for yourself.
I also don’t need someone who doesn’t work in the media telling me about how certain media people mangle scientists’ words and screw ‘factual’ stories up. I’ve worked in various branches of the media biz on three continents over a 20-year span & wrote a big piece for a major news site about it just a few weeks ago: http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/nature-up/2013/may/17/bloodthirtsty-wildlife-documentaries-reality-ethics. (It got over 3,000 facebook shares.) I’ve also often been at the receiving end of it as a writer; I had a headline and a subhead mangled by an overworked editor just today, and another story totally rearranged last week.
My advice in this thread was intended to help scientists avoid these pitfalls as far as possible — I’m not sure if you actually read it, because you still seem bone-headedly hell-bent on proving how badly you need to be paid and how much you know about media people and how durn wronged you’ve been. As we say in South Africa, ‘ag shame’.
Newsflash 2: The banksters have seriously damaged the integrity of the financial systems that run much of the world economy. Oil is now about four times the price that it was just five years ago. Jobs like yours — and those of pro ballerinas, conceptual artists, etc. — are only possible in extremely rich societies at certain times in history. That weird squealing sound of tenured professorships being replaced by TAs at your local university is the tsunami of economic chaos that’s already ripped through journalism just now starting to intrude on your world.
As times get harder and public funding disappears, your hifalutin’ bone-throwing runs the risk of getting crunched unless enough people think it’s worthwhile. That’s when the mass media can really help you.
Like many scientists who think that they’re so smart that this storytelling thing is a trivial exercise that anyone can do, you seem to think that your blog and a few lectures will get the word out and keep society’s support rolling in. I’m sorry, but reams of inside baseball on open access journals ain’t gonna cut it.
I spend an evening damn near every week learning about everything from digital imaging codecs to narrative structure from my peers in the Brooklyn Filmmakers Collective, an astonishingly talented bunch of filmmakers that have Emmys, Oscar noms, and hundreds of other awards between them. I work on my writing damn near every day. I learn from my mistakes and my arguments with extremely smart editors.
Someone like you, who spends most of their time on other things, has very little chance of reaching the sort of audience that I’m increasingly capable of reaching. You have very little chance of figuring out how to craft a story to reach the public as well as people like me can. (That 10,000 hours thing? I think it might be true.) That, dear Matt, is why it might be a bloody good idea to pay a little attention to what I have to say instead of defensively nitpicking your way into societal irrelevance and unemployment. Although I’m not particularly interested in the bone structure of dinosaurs, I think that the world’s a little richer because people like you are, and I’d like work like yours to continue.
Cheers!
Adam
Jobs like yours — and those of pro ballerinas, conceptual artists, etc. — are only possible in extremely rich societies at certain times in history.
Um, I teach human anatomy at a medical school, an enterprise that has been going on for longer than modern science or mass media have existed, and will probably continue as long as people care about not dying. And I’m really damned good at it, and in no danger of losing my job (especially with the looming physican shortage). My research is supported by my teaching, which isn’t going away. So you can stop with the tacit threats about how I’m going to fade into obscurity and burger-flipping if I don’t bow down to your superior wisdom.
Here’s the deal: I’m doing my part. I’ve been on documentaries. I’ve never turned one down. I enjoy it, and I do think it’s important. I’ve just been getting fewer offers since I turned whistleblower. But I have more nuanced perspective than the TV uber alles line you’re pushing.
Documentaries have given me the opportunity to get a few sound bites about my work out, but in ways that are largely outside of my control. Blogging allows me to tell a lot more of the story, and to link out to all kinds of resources (open access papers, museum websites, other blogs) so that people who want to know more have the access they need. Nothing has to be dumbed down or cut because it doesn’t fit someone else’s style guidelines or time constraints. Admittedly, blogging reaches a much smaller audience, and my papers reach a smaller audience still. But they’re all valuable. I have no doubt that my documentary appearances have served as a funnel to guide people to my blogging, and that my blogging works as another funnel to guide people to my papers–thanks to blogging, the preprint of one of papers was downloaded from the publisher’s website hundreds of times before it was even formally published.
Of all these activities–documentaries, blogging, writing papers–documentaries give me the biggest audience, but the least time to say anything, and the least control over how my words are used. So, to finally get back to what John was saying the post, and what I was reinforcing in my comment, if I’m going to sacrifice one or more work days for documentary work, I will happily accept the fair compensation that the production companies offer. And since every production company I’ve ever worked with (even the one that quote-mined me) has offered that compensation without me asking, I’m encouraging other scientists to ask if such offers aren’t forthcoming. I fail to see how scientists asking for fair compensation implies a disrespect or dismissal of media people, or a demand for groveling, or any of the other ridiculous crap you’ve accused me of.
+1
[…] No scientists were harmed in the making of that film. But there was no science in my post, either… […]
[…] etc. I’ll discuss one other venue which has featured prominently here on this blog, too: documentaries. Oh I’m not done with that hobby horse, no sirree, not by a long […]
A new comment I received via email and got agreement to share as anonymous:
Since perhaps 2009 I’ve been in connection with the media. It all started with local press following my ‘journeys’ in palaeontology. I’ve always found it very interesting and important in assisting local papers, radio and tv when it comes to palaeo related projects. In fact with my route in palaeontology (the non traditional approach) it would be great to be more actively involved with the media, and have expressed an interest in appearing in front of the camera. I’ve even pitched a few idea (discussed briefly later). But only managed to appear on a few TV programmes including local news and a dino programme based in the US. Nonetheless I’ve been in direct contact with TV companies, specifically through the BBC since perhaps 2011. I was picked up on the radio (BBC Radio 4). Anyway, to get to my points…
For a long time I’ve had ideas which I feel would work fantastic as palaeo TV documentaries. Since 2011-12 I began contacting many people in the BBC who tended to pass me up the chain, sideways and so forth. Eventually I tracked down a few people who were very interested in my ideas. All of which were well received, though like most companies it was always me having to do the chasing to find things out, any progress etc. Anyway my ideas were put forward and were well liked. Sadly the programme(s) were ‘shot down’ and ‘put on file’. More recently I had been in contact with a department at the BBC (they had been in correspondence with me briefly for sometime) who explained a few new ideas which their team had for palaeo programmes and asked for background info. In return for assisting I would be considered a palaeontological consultant for the BBC (albeit unpaid). I agreed, ”should look good right”. Anyway, after spending over two days stressing and thinking of some ideas I compiled a 3000 word document and sent it through. For at least a month I heard nothing back. I emailed and received a response saying something like ”thanks for the document its wonderful, the entire team here think you have done a splendid job”. Nice, but would have been great to hear from them sooner. Later that month I heard from the same chap who told me they had incorporated my ideas into another new idea they had, this was later ‘shot down’ too. However a few weeks later I received another email regarding yet another ‘new’ idea. The ‘new’ idea was very similar to the project I had put forward a year or so ago.. Not saying that they had ‘stolen’ anything, but you never know. Getting to my key point with all of this crazy long email is that after all of my hard work, time etc put into assisting somebody (essentially doing there work) to ensure things are scientifically correct as well as open to the public, I received very little contact/recognition from anybody. Above all it took two whole days from my extremely busy schedule. For this I ask myself is it really worth the effort? Sure it is if something prevails. But its so hard when the points of contact rarely keep in touch and keep you posted. Plus you never quite know whether the info you submit is actually used as you hoped it would be, perhaps misinterpreted.
Here’s hoping that some of my ideas may be picked up in the future. I’d certainly love to push palaeontology on TV, attempt trying to do what Brian Cox has, but for palaeo. It would be great without having to mess around with the ‘go-to-people’.
[…] What did this post have to do with freezers? Nothing, although I was once filmed for a planned Discovery Channel film about scientists who find a frozen tyrannosaur in polar regions and have to decide what to do with it before it slips into a chasm and is lost forever. Probably better that this never aired; it was cancelled. Segue to this post. […]
If you’re following this discussion of documentaries, science, and appropriateness, be sure to check out this scandalous Southern Fried Science post on the inaccuracy of Animal Planet “documentaries” and reality shows– http://www.southernfriedscience.com/?p=15173
I was forwarded this blog by my Press Officer wife. Thank you John (and everyone) for putting your thoughts out there. I would like to add my two cents worth as a filmmaker. I have spent a number of years making science and history docs (including for Windfall Films, which John has rightly praised as a fantastic production company). I will firstly apologise on behalf of TV producers everywhere. I appreciate how frustrating it is to (literally) donate your time only to find out later that you have ended up on the cutting room floor, and it is quite rude of the producers not to even give you the courtesy of an email to explain the situation.
Unfortunately, the truth is that filmmaking – like science – is an incredibly inefficient business. I’m sure every good scientist on this blog has “wasted their time” on research that basically went nowhere, despite all signs to the contrary. Some of you may have not even known you were on the wrong track for months, and only after carefully reviewing your data you realised that you had to go back to the drawing board. But I assume that if something doesn’t work out as expected, you regroup, rethink and hopefully move on in the right direction…sometimes after spending a considerable amount of money.
The same is true with us – as a project progresses we learn our subject and develop ever clearer ideas about the story we’re telling. But we always shoot more than we need because we never truly know what is exactly right for the final film until we get to the editing suite. Regrettably, some things get cut, despite the fact everyone – including the production company – spent lots of time and money doing it. Most good filmmakers will try very hard not to drop entire sequences (like the one with John and the cats) but with the best will in the world it happens.
I once flew a crew and a contributor all the way to Easter Island…and never used a frame of it. Obviously, it took a huge effort to organise a shoot halfway around the world and it cost a small fortune but we decided to spend the time and money because we all assumed it was going to be the crowning glory to the film. On location, everything went more or less as planned. But after I got back to the edit I struggled for a long time with the footage. Eventually, the editor, the executive producer and I all realised that it simply didn’t give us the emotional punch we needed for our grand finale. Plus, there were numerous other great scenes that had to be cut back to accommodate it. So we dropped it.
None of you would publish a piece of bad research simply because you spent a lot of time and money working on it. “Nature”, “Science”, “The Lancet”, etc. are not filled with papers about failed experiments and false hypotheses. The same is true with us, so next time you find yourself agreeing to be on camera, please understand that there is a small possibility you won’t get used.
““Nature”, “Science”, “The Lancet”, etc. are not filled with papers about failed experiments and false hypotheses.”
No. But real journals are.
Thanks Phil, it is great to see some filmmakers pitching in to the discussion- if they’re part of the problem they are also part of the solution! My concern remains that we’re still treated as the free labour, more often than not. If the film gets cut the cameraman and others involved still get paid, but we get nothing unless we push for it. I am engrossed in negotiations right now with a major production company who claims not to have £200-£500 for a modest fee to cover a day of filming with us, and they have major funding. I think whatever impression is out there among filmmakers that we are the free labour and can be cut when they want to without any benefit for us needs to change, and funding for scientists’ time needs to become a more regular part of budgets; even modest funding like this. I’m >£100/hr for actual time, so £200-500/day is a steal, and companies (even ones with small budgets) do still pay that fee.
It is true, in our regular work we take risks and sometimes end up with nothing from our research (but these days, scientists are supposed to publish even negative results! We don’t just aim for Nature/Science papers; we have more humdrum work too). But that’s all under our control and part of our normal work. Filming with documentaries is not a part of our normal work; it is icing on the cake, or a rare occurrence (for most), and often deviates from our normal work in substantial ways (longer hours, many demands, cutting corners in experiment to save time, or repeating experiments to get the right shot, etc). I don’t think the analogy really works here. We are being asked to do something for a company in return for them to receive a benefit; we are providing a service. If we get public engagement/PR from it being shown, that might override the costs and make it worthwhile; that’s more arguable. But try that argument with an actor, cameraman, CGI artist or other worker, that the risk of getting cut is worth their time for no benefit. I don’t see much of a difference; all of them benefit in some ways from good PR too, and they get paid.
All we’re asking for (or me, at least, although many of the commenters above agree) is a token payment as a contribution to our research (not even our pocketbooks!). I really don’t think that’s asking too much. I think filmmakers that expect free labour are asking too much, except under certain circumstances (e.g. charities, non-profits? Or surefire you-won’t-be-cut situations, like the star/main presenter?). In the UK system these days, everything has a price in research. If you put in X hours on funded research you are expected to budget X hrs times your hourly salary for that costing. Filmmakers need to become a part of that fair economic process. If it means they have to cut a few frames of CGI out to balance the budget, I think the audience can live with that.
Of course, you are right – I wouldn’t turn up on a shoot unless I was being paid. But it’s not so much that we think you are free labour, it’s that we assume you are already being paid by someone else. After all, unless you take an unpaid leave of absence to do the filming (or do it at the weekend when you should be on your own time) you are still drawing your salary from the RVC. So the comparison to the cameraman or actor, who expects to be paid whether or not his/her work is used doesn’t quite hold up. You didn’t suffer a personal financial loss when you were working with the BBC. What you did loose is lots of your valuable time and you have nothing to show for it. That would be frustrating for anyone.
Generally I have no qualms about paying facility fees, honorariums, etc. Many institutions do in effect “hire out” their academics to make up for lost productive time, which is fine. However, as you say that money isn’t going into your own pocket, it’s going into the institution’s coffers. For that reason, I think that it is more the institution’s job to ask us for money, rather than individual scientist. After all, part of the reason they have a PR budget is to cover the cost of paying you while you are out dancing with tigers for Horizon. Perhaps the press office should reimburse your department’s budget for the X hours you lost on your current project.
A couple of years ago I spent several days filming at the National Institutes of Health near Washington DC with a leading researcher in his field. I am sure that the NIH actually spent quite a lot of money to facilitate our shoot- the salary of the researcher (who obviously did no research while we were there), the labs and conference rooms they dedicated to our use, not to mention the press officer who was with us every moment we were on the property. They didn’t charge us anything because they accept that hosting film crews is just a cost of doing business, as it were. If they approve of the general scope of the documentary then they are happy to participate at their own expense. And if the sequence gets cut (this one was used in the US version of the film but not the British version, as it happens) they basically write it off.
Thanks again for your comments, Phil; they are very rational. At least in the UK, the trend is to charge “full economic costing” for any activities- research on grants, teaching, etc. These days everything has a cost in universities/research; the business model is taking over. If I were asked to spend a full day teaching at another university, I wouldn’t expect them to pay nothing for it (even though I’d have benefits for it), and the same goes for filming for external companies’ main benefit (with some benefit to me, hence the discount).
It might be nice for universities to take up the issue on our behalf, but I don’t see it happening. And maybe it’s better if scientists have control of the issue and lead the discussion. We do the work. We fuel it with our passion, etc. The way it works for me, at least, the fees go straight to my research, not disappearing into institutional coffers. So my own work directly benefits for the time I directly spent outside of it. If universities took over this, I bet the money would disappear into their bowels, and the charges would escalate. Maybe they don’t want to get involved for other reasons; I am not sure, but I am content with that aspect of the situation, but it is worth getting scientific societies involved in this issue, as they could play a positive role.
Normally PR offices don’t have a budget to pay scientists internally; I’ve never heard of that. We tend to have to seek outside funding if we want money to instigate public engagement work. Our PR office is an external company anyway. I don’t know where that budget would come from, but the view would almost certainly be that if an outside institution (especially a for-profit one) is commissioning us to do work on filming, they should contribute rather than the university/PR firm contribute extra ££.
I know a lot of scientists still don’t ask to be paid for media work, but my discussions stemming from this blog post in particular have shown me that they often haven’t thought to ask. Some of this is shyness, some is the view that money taints things (but with discipline, scientists can avoid that), some is the view that it’s worth it regardless, and some is just sheer unawareness that they could. But in the strain we’re under lately, pushed to do ever-heaped-up mountains of paperwork and other activities aside from our main research, it is increasingly hard to justify not paying scientists for their time, especially even just a token donation. I’m still not sure where the reluctance I get from some media comes from. I hardly think it’s asking much, and would help scientists and the media get along better.
Followup: I am on a Channel 5 TV documentary tonight, for the long-delayed documentary “Giraffe Feast” mentioned above! Why and how are lions killing giraffes in Tanzania? 7pm http://bit.ly/15FM5Qp It seems the programme was initially the victim of new executives at Channel 5, who kept putting off releasing it for ~6 months, again and again. Hopefully that is not a bad sign (is possibly a sign of indecision and/or intra-channel politics)- we shall see tonight!
[…] a year ago, the Royal Veterinary College biomechanist John Hutchinson wrote a blog post, titled “TV Nature Documentaries: Why Bother?” John was fed up with, among other things, documentary-making TV crews coming to shoot in his […]
Another followup, 1 year later:
Oddly, there has been a big upswing in the number of TV shows wanting to work with me and my team (and our lab, more broadly), this year. And I’ve said “no” to some because they weren’t good timing or a good fit to our research activities/expertise. I’ve also said “yes” to a couple of projects that were outside my expertise, to try to push my boundaries — that comes more from confidence and experience than anything else. I feel like I can sometimes now relax into the broader role of “biologist with knowledge of anatomy, mechanics and evolution” rather than “dinosaur biomechanics expert” or something similarly narrow. I do my homework in advance to learn something new about a topic I am not super familiar, and I think it can go well when I do that.
Anyway, the main experience I’ve had with all the various shows I’ve been involved with over the past year has been very good. Documentary producers have been willing to negotiate with me and have almost all paid me a reasonable donation to my research funds after that negotiation, although sometimes I had to push hard. I’m often told “We don’t pay other people” to which I say “That’s too bad; they didn’t negotiate. I am sure you have flexibility.” So I urge others to try that.
A happy ending, I think, is that earlier this week we filmed with the BBC again for a followup series to the “Secret Life of Cats” that I lamented in this blog post and the next one:
https://whatsinjohnsfreezer.com/2013/06/17/slo-mo-cats/
Not only did they pay me a reasonable, small consulting/service fee for my research funds, they also are using some old footage from the filming we did last year. My initial response when asked about doing new filming with the same programme leaned toward no, but when I heard that they might use some of that old filming, that won me over; it makes the prior effort worthwhile. So I’m hoping it all makes it in, and the new footage seemed excellent. Again, negotiating played a big role here; I was far from a push-over and the kind documentary crew even made an extra effort to save me time and effort preparing for the shoot.
Then yesterday I brought my Microraptor cast to Royal Holloway for a long day of filming, and waiting around, and chatting with fun documentary folks from Colossus Productions. And then I (with Dr. Ashley Heers from my team) got to meet Sir David Attenborough, which was of course wonderful. We had a couple of ~10 minute chats about science and travel and how Wann Langston (Quetzalcoatlus expert) loved to drink Dr Pepper. And I got to watch Sir David get filmed with fancy 3D cameras for a big new show– the master at work was very impressive with his relaxed, professional style and energy. I didn’t get filmed, or paid (except a tiny travel expense) but that’s OK. I just wanted to meet the great documentary maker and see him in action. That was my negotiated “price” for bringing the fossil over (I said no to shipping it to them; too fragile and valuable). It was worth it!!! Ten times over.
Reading some of the discussion above, and based on numerous recent experiences, I’m amazed at the disconnect that seems to exist between the content provider (ie. scientists) and the client (ie. film production companies) when it comes to recompense for time. I think a lot of us find it galling that production companies won’t blink an eye to pay industry rates for camera operators, sound recordists, freelance producers, presenters, equipment hire companies, travel companies, vehicle hire companies, restaurants (good ones at that!), hotels and all the other essential elements required to make a successful documentary, and yet the actual people who provide the content that the show is based on (and often its ideas and concepts based on telephone discussions that probing researchers make), and who frequently appear in and hence become characters within the show, are expected to do it for jack because it’s the only way that the public will take their work seriously (the public is not always our intended audience), or because they’re already being paid by an institution (not everyone works for an institution with a salary), or because they should just be glad to be selected to appear on TV (not everyone is so vain, or wants to take the risk to be make to look foolish in front of their peers), or whatever (come on, seriously?).
I’m firmly in the camp that believes anyone who contributes to a TV show, and hence contributes towards the profits being made by the client, should be recompensed for their time. I would find it rude not to. Logistical expenses are a no brainer, but also their time spent in front of the camera and making significant contributions towards the script or storyline. It doesn’t always have to be a fortune, but any point blank refusal always elicits the same response from me: next time, incorporate talent / contributors into your initial budget proposal. In my case, I’m often asked to do dangerous things on camera (operate vehicles, catch animals) and for that I’m paying a significant amount of money to an insurance company to protect me in case something goes wrong, a factor which increases exponentially every time we work with a film crew. My fee goes towards offsetting that cost, not to mention the cost of being an independent researcher producing cool stuff that TV crews want to feature. This money always goes straight back into our research, and in fact we’ve often gotten around the intransigence of some companies by persuading them to buy equipment such as satellite transmitters on which they can hang their show (they get a cool sequence, we get some useful data).
Don’t get me wrong, I love working with film crews, especially the good ones who care about getting a good story out with accurate science which is accessible to a wider audience. I bend over backwards for these people because we share a love of the outcome, and typically end up contributing thousands of dollars worth of time for free because I want to see a positive result. I have many dozens of excellent experiences over the last 20 years doing so, although I have my fair share of bad ones too, but it’s a simple professional courtesy at the beginning to assume your contributor’s time is worth at least some money (or some other rewards, and getting to work with Sir David would certainly be one of them!). You’ll probably get a better, more enthusiastic and more honest response from your contributors if you do.
Incidentally, the idea that “if you won’t do it for free, someone else will” is sadly true, but it also feels very much like blackmail when used against us. But if a production company is happy to pay nothing for poor quality content, it doesn’t say much about their goals for the end product, and probably wasn’t something you wanted to be associated with anyway.
In the end, follow the advice given above: treat all film crews as a great opportunity to teach people about science / your work, but you can safely ignore the ones that refuse to show you any respect and/or believe your contribution has no value. Yes, film crews are real people with their own issues and challenges, but that doesn’t excuse poor management.
Hello – me again.
John – great news to hear that your previously “wasted” sequence has made it on TV.
I feel I should weigh in again to defend my fellow TV Producers (although, clearly, many of them do things which are totally indefensible) on the issue of pay.
Firstly, I am totally behind Adam when it comes to covering the expenses of people who give their time for me. I have no problem paying someone to prepare an expensive (and in Adam’s case, apparently dangerous) demonstration specifically for my benefit, that they would not otherwise be doing. In my mind that would obviously include things like insurance.
However, I do still feel that paying researchers just for their time is not always necessary or even appropriate. There are three reasons:
1.) Every penny I spend on paying contributors is money I have to cut from another part of the budget. Several people have often mentioned that “Since you’re paying the camera crew full market rates, etc..” Except sometimes we don’t. Part of my work is making hard choices about where to spend my often paltry budget. Sometimes I prefer to shoot an interview myself, or use a less-experienced Assistant in order to be able to fund an extra CGI shot that makes a difficult-to-grasp concept come alive for the viewer. Sometimes the editor and I work late into the evening (and we are not on an hourly rates) to avoid a budget over-run because I decided to spend the money on…yes…covering the expenses of a demo that illustrates a point.
There seems to be an impression abroad that we are all living it large in Telly Land and heading straight down to Soho House for lavish drinks parties the minute we wrap with the hard-working scientists. That might be true for those working on “X-Factor” but a good number of serious documentary production companies are living hand-to-mouth so it’s not about raking in the profits. It’s about surviving to make the next film. Likewise, many (though of course not all) of our clients: PBS, Channel 4, BBC, and others are not profit-making entities. However big their budgets may seem, they are not unlimited.
2.) As I have mentioned above, most of the scientists I shoot with are already paid by their institutions and we film with them during office hours. I’ll no doubt be shouted down about this, but I’ll say it anyway: I do believe that contributing to the Public Understanding of Science is part of a researcher’s job, not an extra curricular activity or a favour to the media. What it is, is a quid pro quo. You get to publicise something you believe in, and fulfil your public science obligation, we get content for our film.
I wouldn’t demean someone by suggesting the mere chance of being on TV is some kind of reward in and of itself. However this is a world where there is fierce competition for funding and where there are people who still take the word of a slick politician over hard, evidence-based truths. There is a value in promoting your work, your institution/research group/lab and the good name of science in general. I’m sure as I type this, there is another forum where a researcher is moaning about loosing out on a grant to a publicity-hogging, always-on-tv colleague.
3.) One problem with being paid is the impression, at the very least, of bias. Yes, I get paid and no, I don’t turn up for work if I don’t. But the price of being paid is that, with exceptions, I do what I’m told. If my executive producer wants me to make a film about the possible existence of Extra-Terrestrials on Earth I can obviously say no, and walk away, it’s one of the joys of being a freelancer. But if I take the money I am obliged to do it and follow the brief I am given. It’s like that well-known apocryphal tale from a film set:
ACTOR: I have to say, I’m really struggling with my motivation for this scene.
DIRECTOR: I’m paying you aren’t I? That’s your F****** motivation! Now do it!
ACTOR: Yes, I think I’m ready to go for a take now.
I’m not for one minute suggesting anyone here can have their opinion bought, I know that is not the case. But there are plenty of “scientists” out there who can…by big pharma, big tobacco, big oil, etc. etc. This is one reason why the BBC, in particular, explicitly bans paying “fees” to contributors across the board. (FYI- it’s perfectly fine to pay “reasonable expenses” so don’t let anyone at the BBC try and pull the wool over your eyes). It’s not just about the reality, it’s about the *appearance* of both sides being honest and impartial.
No one is forcing you all to go on TV. If the arrangement doesn’t seem reasonable, don’t do it! But also don’t complain when you see TV shows spouting pseudo-science.