Science is an infamously dry endeavour. The noble practice seeks to answer humanity’s most inscrutable questions. How did life begin? What is consciousness? Why does naming cows increase their milk yield? Within this austere framework, there is little room for levity. I think most scientists would agree there is nothing funny about bottom quarks, nor the five-membered organoarsenic compound known as arsole.

So I wasn’t surprised by the findings of a recent peer-reviewed paper, published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B, that surveyed the use of humour across 531 scientific talks at 14 academic conferences. Stefano Mammola, from the Italian National Research Council, and colleagues found that on average scientists delivered only 1.6 jokes per presentation, of which 66% generated “only polite chuckles”. Science and comedy, it seems, don’t mix.

The findings confirm research that I conducted more than 20 years ago. Under the guise of the Comedy Research Project, Timandra Harkness and I performed a randomised clinical trial to assess whether or not science can be funny.

In identical rooms in front of audiences, two researchers were given a microphone. One of them, the “experimental” scientist, gave a talk........

© The Guardian