Storytelling can be defined broadly when it comes to talking about the challenges and successes of research. We recognize that there isn’t always a full narrative arc that can be told about a specific study or research topic, so examples, anecdotes and even just using “visual language”—that is, words that paint a picture in the mind’s eye—work just as well. Research has shown that people remember stories more than data, and if you think about it, you’ll find examples in your own life. Many of us learned that slow and steady wins the race from the story of the tortoise and the hare. Aesop’s fables have stuck around because stories provide a context to remember a key takeaway or lesson.

A new commentary in JAMA spells out specific ways that stories can be incorporated into the promotion of evidence-based medicine by looking at issues like the claim of a connection between autism and vaccines and recommendations on mammograms and prostate cancer screenings and why the research message was so roundly overwhelmed by stories and non-expert opinions.

The JAMA commentary (you have to be a subscriber to see the full article) discusses two types of stories. The first is the counternarrative, which they demonstrate with the story of the autism-vaccine debate:

“When scientists encounter stories that promote unscientific approaches to health and health care, they should deploy an evidence-based counternarrative. The story of a mother in San Diego whose infant, too young for the MMR vaccine, became sick after exposure to an unvaccinated child with measles would add persuasive weight in a debate…”

The second is a story that is both effective in supporting your work, but also challenging. We often argue that the public doesn’t care about process, and that is true. Virtually no one other than your peers cares to know each step and measurement. However, demonstrating the work that went into a research finding can bolster your argument and demonstrate the fact that recommendations are not made lightly. From the JAMA piece:

Another role for scientific narrative is found within the process of evidence discovery and translation. Typically, experts present a “clean” version of their findings without any narrative about how they made sense of the data. This fulfills the scientific virtues of objectivity, coherence, and synthesis. When the USPSTF released its report on screening mammography to much controversy, it included no narrative about the process. Only later was the story of the task force deliberations revealed. This narrative, with multiple characters operating within the context of historical precedents, timing mandates, and a messy political milieu, created a substantially more compelling perspective. But the account came too late to engage a confused and angry public with the task force’s conclusions. Guideline developers could include as part of their reports the narrative of their internal workings: We started with what we knew, we looked at the evidence, we revisited our hypotheses, we argued about the findings, and ultimately we acted here and now because it was prudent, but there are more data to come, and here is what we plan to do as we learn more. Such stories could increase trust and therefore improve the translation of evidence for individual use and public policies.

The challenge is to use the “process” story only when it is truly interesting and relevant, and when you do, be sure to keep it short and concise while also giving a sense of the amount of work that goes into research and recommendations.

The bottom line is one that you’ll read here with some frequency: stories need to be told to make your work memorable. Those advocating without science or evidence behind their positions won’t be afraid to use stories, and this commentary demonstrates that you can use stories to deliver research in ways that aren’t misleading or dishonest.