When I started out with proposal writing, the books by Edward Tufte were the gold standard for developing compelling and honest representations of your data. The classic 1981 “The Visual Display of Quantitative Information” should still be required reading for proposal writers. I mention them because the purpose of any proposal, and graphics are one of the most important elements in proposals, is to persuade while staying away from manipulating or misrepresenting the underlying data. As Warren Buffet has been quoted: “It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you’ll do things differently.” No quick win is worth risking an entire professional career. Though there are plenty of cautionary tales out there. Just think of Theranos. 

Scientists and engineers are typically well trained in representing data accurately. But I have met many who struggled with the persuasiveness part: “I am showing you all the data and they should stand on their own.” Any additions to “the data” seem to fall somewhere between pandering to the audience and misrepresenting the truth. What many of my colleagues miss is that the data were persuasive to them because they already have the context in their heads. They understand the various extrapolations from theory and get excited about any deviation. If you do not appreciate all of this cold, you are clearly not worthy of their time. Which brings me back to the truism that proposals are written for the non-specialist. Yes, I know that it hurts, but the people who make decisions about your funding always know less about your field than you do. 

Though recently I noticed an intriguing trend as more and more of my, usually younger, colleagues embrace visual communication. Some brilliant examples are the illustrations by James Tuttle Keane. But he is not alone in leaning into his artistic talents. Perhaps it is the increasingly visual world in which this new generation of scientists has come of age, or the access to graphic tools, or other factors. Whatever the reasons, all of these scientists understand that the message is as important as their presentation. This certainly is not new and unique to this generation but it appears to be increasingly accepted within the scientific mainstream. I really appreciate this because it is now more important than ever that science and engineering leans into sharing what we have discovered about the world with the largest possible audience. 

Aside from the larger implications, working on illustrations with colleagues like James is a joy. I don’t need to advocate for the role of illustrations and I don’t need to facilitate the often time-consuming and painful process of translating scientific insight. They come into the room with an understanding of the importance of the work and are ready to put in the time and effort to generate them. And generating good graphics is hard, even if you are already aligned on the goals. But why is that? Shouldn’t you just be able to draw what you are thinking?

The underlying issue became much more clear to me when another one of my colleagues, Tibor Balint, introduced me to the concept of a boundary object. In my view, boundary objects are visual or physical representations of a concept that allows individual team members to discuss a complex system. Think of maps, physical model, wiring diagrams, process flow charts, cookie recipes, etc. Until you have a representation of the concept in front of you, you cannot be sure that the person next to you sees and thinks what you are talking about: Which of the 6 or 8 actuators are you talking about? How many are actually there? Which version are we using? Will it fit inside the enclosure? 

The least serious side effect of not having a boundary object is that some of your team members will be confused. If it is a well-functioning team, they will speak up and you will most likely end up creating one. The most serious side effect maybe that all team members believe they understand the system while everyone carries a slightly different model in their head without ever resolving the differences. Such teams usually crash in reviews when they make contact with reviewers who do not share their mental model and spot the disconnects from a mile away. 

Another reason why teams may be reluctant to start on illustrations is the initial reaction to drafts. The natural reaction to most early representation is: “That’s wrong!” Which, of course simply means that what you just drew does not align with the image in my head. Ten minutes into that discussion you probably have so many “corrections” that nobody can see the forest for the trees anymore. That is the point where it can be very productive to hang in there, or come back to it after a break. Just remember that everyone is just trying to get to the same page. That is hard work and the shared understanding will be well worth it, even if the illustration you aimed for never makes it into your document.