Next time you’re planning out a complex MoA or drafting what the next medical illustration project you’re about to brief should show, pop on an episode of MasterChef for some help on how to make it more effective.
Just to reassure you, my frankly absurd advice about watching a cooking show to make better visuals for medical conditions, isn’t due to me suffering from one myself. And to be honest, it’s not really about the show itself – it’s more about one kind of dish that you tend to see on them: consommé.
(Not that I’ve ever tasted a proper consommé, but it must be really nice as judges go wild for them. But to me it always just looks like the chef’s just put an OXO cube into some boiling water. But what do I know? But that’s the point: it’s easy to be fooled by how simple the end result looks!)
Let me clear a few things up
Space shuttles!
Well, one particular, ill-fated space shuttle to be exact. Let me explain…
It’s a well-covered, and oft-commented-upon fact that data visualisation ‘gone wrong’ played a tragic role in the Challenger disaster (I even based my 3rd year uni dissertation on the subject, about 25 years ago. I probably got a Distinction for it … at least that’s the story I’m sticking with).
To recap simplistically: the night before the launch, engineers from the company that manufactured the booster that failed tried to stop NASA from launching. They were convinced that a key part, an O-ring, had a strong chance of failure (again) at the icy temperatures forecast for the next day. They showed NASA the raw data. But that’s all it looked like: data. The part that showed the actual danger was arranged around launch dates rather than temperature.
NASA literally couldn’t see what the issue was … at least not to a degree that would compel them to cancel an already late launch under immense commercial and logistical pressure. They greenlit the launch, and sadly tragedy ensued.
Ever since, people have argued that had the data been presented in a way that only focussed on the direct correlation between low temperatures and previous failures, then things likely would have been different.
But the underlying point stands: the engineers didn’t have the time, or possibly the perspective, to take their raw data, boil it down and make one thing crystal clear – make it the hero. Just like a great consommé.
A long, drawn-out affair
No, that sub-head isn’t a comment on that marvellous intro. I’m of course referring to the arduous process of distilling raw medical diagrams into a veritable feast for the eyes. A process that ends with something deceptively simple-looking, but hides a great deal of depth.
And I’m not talking purely academic, text-book style diagrams – someone looking at those are usually a captive audience … that’s a head-down studying type of situation.
I’m talking more about a key MoA/MoD infographic adorning a panel at a bustling trade show; visual instructions for drug administration for a busy HCP; or a disease explainer graphic on a poster in a bustling doctor’s waiting room. Those are just random examples, but they do share a commonality: those visualisations first need to demand attention amongst all other distractions floating about, be easily digested, and then hopefully successfully regurgitated to the person standing next to you.
But the thing is, it takes time and skill to make anything that starts off being extremely complex, into something with crystal clarity and a high level of effectiveness. There’s a certain finesse to it. Elements need balancing, everything not critical taken away, and each constituent part handled with care and attention. There may be fewer things on the page/slide/poster but that’s often not because less work was done to get the end result. Quite the opposite, in fact.
So, it’s the polar opposite of ‘throwing it all at a wall and hoping some of it sticks’.
And you know what else is crystal clear, refined, impactful, and doesn’t stick to walls when thrown at them? …
… Consommé! (I am really getting my money’s worth out of this metaphor today!)
That just leaves the tip
Now, with all that talk of space shuttles and fine dining, you may be wondering what the real point of this blog has been. And I don’t blame you to be honest. So here goes:
Here at LOVELIVE, we’re not like your local Subway: you don’t have to hold our hands and guide us through how you want your order built.
Instead, just place your raw ingredients with us, brief us on your clientele, and allow us to strategise what makes the cut on your behalf.
And that, my friends, is the real take-away.