The Art of Storytelling in Science: A Personal Journey

Abstract

Storytelling is a crucial yet often overlooked skill for scientists, essential in seminars, manuscripts, grant applications, and professional interactions. Drawing from my experiences across Brazil, the United States of America, India, and South Africa, I explore how crafting compelling narratives enhances scientific communication, increasing the likelihood of publishing, securing funding, and building collaborations. Reflecting on formative “hot seat” sessions at the National Institutes of Health, in the United States, I emphasize the importance of structuring ideas clearly, regardless of language fluency. Storytelling brings clarity, engagement, and logic to science, making research more relatable and impactful. Mastering this skill is essential for advancing scientific careers and effectively conveying complex ideas.

One of the most overlooked yet fundamental skills in a scientist's toolkit is storytelling. We often think of science as a realm of cold, hard facts, data points, and peer-reviewed methods. But the reality is that storytelling is central to everything we do—whether writing a grant proposal, delivering a lecture, or networking at a dinner. It is how we translate complex data into meaningful narratives that resonate with the human experience, convincing others of our ideas, our vision, and our discoveries (Figure 1).

Figure 1.

The art of storytelling in science. This illustration encapsulates the core themes of storytelling in scientific communication. The glowing thread connecting abstract figures represents storytelling as a bridge that enhances understanding between scientists and diverse audiences. The flowing lines illustrate the narrative structure, emphasizing the transformation of complex data into engaging stories. Mentorship and collaboration are symbolized by the guiding relationship between figures, highlighting the importance of knowledge transfer and continuous learning. The overall composition conveys the essence of empathy in science, fostering connections beyond linguistic and cultural barriers. Source: The author (designed in Adobe Illustrator 2025).

My own journey as a scientist has been deeply intertwined with the art of storytelling. I trained in Brazil and the United States, working across several countries, including India and South Africa. In each of these environments, the ability to tell a compelling story that considers the unique regional and personal characteristics has proven to be a decisive factor in my career. Science is not a solitary endeavor. It is collaborative, it is competitive, and it requires that we be understood by our peers and also by those who may not speak our scientific language fluently. Through these experiences, I learned that without a well-crafted narrative, even the most groundbreaking ideas risk fading into obscurity.

I remember vividly my time at the National Institutes of Health, in Bethesda, the United States of America, under the guidance of Dr Alan Sher, an exceptional scientist known for his sharp critique and attention to detail. He had an exercise we called the “hot seat,” where junior faculty and postdocs were put under intense scrutiny, presenting their work one sentence at a time. Alan would pick apart each word, asking us to justify every claim, every transition, and every implication. These sessions, though nerve-wracking, were transformational. I learned to anticipate what my data said and how it should be conveyed—how to lead my audience from a single question to a solution, maintaining a sense of curiosity along the way.

It was there, in those infamous encounters, that I understood how crucial storytelling is to scientific writing. It was not enough to have good data or a novel hypothesis; the way you framed your argument, the logic that unfolded step by step, and how you anticipated the reader's thoughts were all integral to crafting a compelling paper or project proposal. This was a discipline in itself—one I have carried forward in every lecture I give, every manuscript I write, and every grant application I submit.

This method is incredibly impactful and essential. I use it with my mentees and have witnessed remarkable results. By digging into the meaning behind each sentence, we gain insights into different perspectives and how diverse minds operate within the same context. Together, we collaborate to refine the text, sentence by sentence, aiming to craft a unique, compelling, and informative piece of writing that feels like it was woven together like a work of art. As a result, by the end of each session, the mentees become so familiar with the process that they can anticipate how the next revision will unfold, consistently enhancing the quality of their articles and projects. In the conclusion of the process, in addition to a better-written text and a good story to tell, we leave the room as individuals who better communicate and make ourselves understood, both in science and beyond.

The “hot seat” sessions are not just for my mentees—they are for me too. As a mentor, these intense, critical discussions allow me to dive into the intricate details of the work being done in the lab, ensuring that I stay fully engaged with each project. But beyond that, they offer a continuous learning opportunity for me to expand my knowledge in areas where I am not formally trained, such as economics and qualitative research. These sessions are reciprocal; while guiding others, I am also exposed to fresh ideas, methods, and perspectives, which deepen my understanding and enrich my own work.

Storytelling transcends the act of speaking or writing; it requires shaping ideas into a coherent whole that captivates and engages your audience. Through my experience mentoring students from diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds, I have come to appreciate that storytelling is not solely tied to language fluency. While fluency can offer certain advantages in constructing a story, it does not guarantee effective storytelling. I have seen students with strong language skills struggle to create sharp transitions, establish logical connections, and maintain narrative flow. At the same time, I have worked with students who initially faced language barriers but, with thoughtful guidance, crafted stories rich with clarity and insight. These experiences have reinforced that storytelling is a skill rooted in narrative construction, not linguistic mastery. It is related to building an arc that holds attention, builds suspense, and delivers insight—a process that transcends language and flourishes in the hands of those willing to engage with its structure and logic.

Writing a paper or a grant application is akin to translating a story into a language your audience can understand. You must guide them through the world you are creating, building anticipation, and addressing their unspoken questions as you go. If your ideas are scattered, your conclusions arrive out of nowhere, or if your tone and level of detail are not suited to your audience, you lose them. But if you manage to construct a narrative that leads them to the inevitable answer, leaving little room for doubt or confusion, you have succeeded. This is how you convince a journal with high standards to publish your paper or persuade a grant review board to fund your project. The scientific rigor and quality must be there, of course, but so must the story.

Another crucial context where storytelling shines is during seminars. The best seminars, I have come to realize, are those structured as stories. One of my mentors once shared a valuable insight: a seminar should not just be a collection of data points but rather a narrative that guides the audience through the research process. He meant something quite specific by this—that your lecture should explain how you became involved in the project and outline each step along the timeline of your investigation, leading up to the final take-home message. This approach transforms a seminar into a journey that the audience can follow, and in my experience, it makes the presentation more understandable and far more engaging. You bring your listeners into the process of discovery, sharing both your successes and your stumbles. In fact, I find that inserting a bit of humility—joking about the mistakes made and the hurdles you had to overcome—does wonders for making the research feel human, relatable, and even more credible. This storytelling framework allows the audience to experience the evolution of the work and better grasp the significance of your findings.

This narrative clarity has been pivotal in shaping my collaborations, especially in international contexts. When working in India or South Africa, where cultures and scientific approaches can differ markedly, storytelling has served as the common ground. It has allowed me to communicate my goals, share my vision, and rally support for complex research initiatives. This goes beyond simply explaining your work to others—it centers on fostering their understanding of you and inspiring them to care about your ideas.

Storytelling, ultimately, is a form of empathy. To excel at it, you must put yourself in the shoes of your audience, whether they are journal editors, grant reviewers, or students in a lecture hall. It requires understanding their perspectives, anticipating their questions, and recognizing the knowledge gaps that might prevent them from fully grasping the significance of your work. It involves crafting your message to bridge the gap between their knowledge and your expertise, guiding them toward new ideas while keeping them engaged.

In my current role as a mentor and educator, I emphasize the importance of this skill with my students and junior faculty. I regularly recreate those “hot seat” moments I had with Dr Sher, challenging my mentees to consider how their data fits into a larger narrative, how they can make their ideas resonate with someone who might not have their level of expertise, and how to build anticipation in their writing. These moments are critical in their development as scientists, because, as I have learned, the ability to tell a compelling story can make the difference between success and stagnation in our field.

Storytelling is not a luxury in science—it is a necessity. It is what turns data into discovery and ideas into action. And for the aspiring scientist, mastering this skill is as important as mastering any technique at the bench. To be successful as a scientist—and in life—it is essential to effectively communicate your ideas. It is vital to share your work with others effectively, both within and outside of the university, as science thrives on collaboration and good communication. Whether it is crafting a research paper, writing a grant proposal, or simply explaining your work over dinner, how you tell your story will shape your career. It has certainly shaped mine.