The power of a good story (and that all-important ‘However…’ clause)

“There’s nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. Nothing can stop it.”

So said a chap named Tyrion Lannister who, my internet tells me, is a character from a TV programme called Game of Thrones. And he’s right, I reckon, at least when it comes to grant applications. Sure, many funders state that the overriding factor they use when they make funding decisions is the excellence of the science, and indeed the science in your proposal (assuming it’s in a scientific area of research) will definitely need to be first-rate. But to grab the reviewers’ attention and sell them your science over and above the other competing proposals, you’ll need to embed your description of it within a very clear and compelling story. A story that explains very clearly what the point of doing that science is – why it really matters, and how we stand to benefit from it.

 

When I was in primary school, I was taught that stories are like fish. They have a beginning (the head), a middle (the body) and an ending (the tail). I’m not sure whether the extent of my English teacher’s knowledge of piscine anatomy would stand up to close scrutiny, but I like the idea of identifiable key components without which a story is incomplete.

In the case of a research proposal – certainly the types of life-science proposal with which I’m most familiar – I’d suggest that the story will often break down into the following components:

The ‘problem’ statement

An identifiable problem, which could be a gap in current scientific knowledge and/or a ‘real-world’ challenge relating to society, public health, wellbeing or whatever.

An explanation of why the problem is important – its size, nature, severity and impact on the people whom it affects.

The ‘current state of the art’ overview

A description of where we are now in this area of science and its application – what we already know and can do, and how that has had benefits to date for the scientific field and for the domain of real-world impact on which the proposal is focused (for example, using blood biomarkers for cancer diagnosis). Wherever possible and appropriate, it's very valuable to be able to point to some promising preliminary data that sits at the cutting edge of the science. 

The ‘however’ clause

This is critical – it’s fundamental to justifying why the proposed research needs to be done. Great and highly promising though the current science may be, this is the big ‘but’. A description of what we don’t yet know, what we can’t yet do, that prevents us from achieving so much more in this particular scientific area. If only we could move the field on…

The ‘leap forward’ description

Having prepared the ground by setting out the above points in clear terms, this component of the story is a vital part of the jigsaw – a description of a novel and compelling idea for moving forward, overcoming the current obstacles, plugging the knowledge gap and advancing the field. The aforementioned preliminary data often plays a critical role in giving credence to this novel idea. 

The ‘impact’ promise

Just outlining the problem is not enough – here we state specifically how and to what extent we will address the problem. Scientific leaps forward are great, and in an ideal world we’d fund them all just for the sake of curiosity and the notion that producing new knowledge is a worthwhile end in itself. But funding and resources are limited, so without wishing to sound too grand we need to select those proposals that promise most benefit for mankind. Specificity is the watchword here – what, exactly, do you intend will change as a result of the research?

In an applied proposal, you will be describing things like new practices, new processes, new guidelines, changed policies, perhaps new products (for example drugs or medical devices). They don’t have to change or come into being directly on conclusion of your project, but you’ll need to describe how the project will advance the status quo towards those changes ultimately being realised.

In a fundamental-science proposal, much or all of the immediate impact is likely to be academic. So in the life sciences at least, you’ll probably be describing how the new knowledge you deliver will support and advance the work of other scientists who are undertaking impactful research in specific areas.

And did I mention specificity?

The ‘timeliness’ reinforcement

Why do this research now? If it’s such a good and promising idea then why has no one done it before? And even if it couldn’t have been done until now, is it really so urgent? This component of the story explains why your idea’s time has come (perhaps the technology just didn’t exist a few years ago) and describes, without hyperbole, why the work must now be done without delay (perhaps the important problem you have identified is escalating rapidly).

The remit reminder

This is a focused explanation of why, specifically, the funder should care about all this. Every funder has a remit area and strategy for supporting research, and as much as something may be of general concern to the world as a whole, if it’s not within a funder’s remit then their interest in it will be limited. It may well seem abundantly obvious by this stage that the proposed research and its intended impact will fall within the funder’s remit, but spell it out clearly for the reviewers. This part of the story should refer to specific elements of the funder’s mission, remit and strategic focus, and explain explicitly and convincingly why and how the proposed research will support these.

Building the story

You won’t necessarily assemble these key components in the same order as above and they won’t all necessarily be self-contained chunks of narrative – some may serve as a thread that permeates the proposal as a whole. But in the life sciences at least, the majority of strong proposals are likely to be underpinned by all or at least most of these basic components.

There are of course other components to the story. You’ll note, for example, that I’ve barely touched above on the scientific detail and methodology, and of course without these you don’t have a research proposal. But, for our purposes here, this aspect of the proposal is all actually – believe it or not – largely secondary. It sits adjacent to the ‘why bother?’ story, and its purpose is to establish the credibility of your big idea. Anyone can say they’ll change the world, but if they propose to do so by witchcraft and magic alone then they may not be taken very seriously by those who hold the purse strings.

It’s no coincidence that the storyline building blocks I’ve outlined above would underpin a strong lay summary. I maintain that in the life sciences at least, it should probably be possible to boil down almost every research proposal to a handful of clear, strong statements from which my daughter (who is in Year 7) would grasp the essence of what the proposal is trying to achieve and understand why that matters in the real world.

This story-based narrative provides a central framework upon which to hang many of the essential parts of a research proposal. An overarching aim, for example, will be framed with clear reference to the problem you have identified and how you seek to address it. The main hypothesis and research questions will address the particular gaps in knowledge that you have identified, and the research objectives will outline the specific steps you will take to achieve the project’s aim. Drilling down further to the methodological detail, the description of this should be organised in such a way as to explain in practical terms how you will achieve each of your research objectives.

So: Get the work-plan done and you’ll achieve your objectives. Achieve the objectives and you should deliver against your aim. Accomplish the aim and you’ll have made an impact against the problem. Which we already know is important, matters to the funder, and needs to be tackled now.

There are usually other parts to the story that need telling, some of which may be peripheral but all of which are nevertheless important in their own right. How, for example, will you archive and share your data? What concrete steps will you take to maximise impact? If you’re applying for a fellowship then there’s a second story to tell that’s as important as the story behind the project – one about you and your motivation, your long-term career plans, and why fellowship funding is essential for realising your full potential as a researcher.

A real example – a great story in action

Below is an example of a grant that was funded a few years ago by the Medical Research Council (MRC). The project’s title, The ‘Medical Bypass’: a new treatment for obesity and diabetes’, gives a strong hint as to what the story is about. You can read a bit more about the research on UKRI’s Gateway to Research (GtR) website, but in a nutshell:

Obesity is an important problem (it affects one in four people in the UK, and it’s getting worse). It’s a major cause of diabetes and other serious diseases. (The ‘problem’ statement, with a ‘timeliness’ reinforcement.)

We have just one anti-obesity drug, which is not very effective. We do though have gastric bypass surgery, which works well for treating obesity and diabetes. (The ‘current state of the art’ overview.)

But gastric bypass is expensive, irreversible and not without risk, having a 1 in 300 mortality rate. (The ‘however’ clause.)

This research will set out to prove the concept of administering satiety hormones (part of our body’s signalling mechanism that tells us when we’re full) to achieve similar results to a surgical bypass. (The ‘leap forward’ description.)

Ultimately, the goal of the research is to develop an effective treatment for obesity and diabetes that is safe and cost-effective. Without such treatments, obesity levels in the UK are projected to reach 50% plus by 2050. (The ‘impact’ promise, plus more timeliness.)

The short information provided on the GtR website doesn’t explicitly include a remit reminder. It does though describe how the research, which was to be done using rats, was designed to justify a trial of the proposed ‘medical bypass’ approach in overweight patients. This, together with the focus area of the project (treatments for obesity and diabetes), leaves us in no doubt that the research is squarely within MRC’s remit. If the research had been of a more fundamental-science nature then a strong and explicit remit statement would probably have been essential.

The research itself involved measuring levels of gut hormones – peptide YY(PYY), glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) and oxyntomodulin (OXM), and a good description of the project's science would have been absolutely essential for enabling the reviewers to evaluate the credibility of the idea and assess the quality and feasibility of the project. But while the science might well have been the part of the proposal that interested the applicant most, it’s worth noting that it barely features within the central ‘good story’ that makes a compelling case for funding the project and getting the science done.

The views and opinions expressed in this blog are mine alone and are in no way endorsed by my employer. Factual information and guidance are provided on a 'best-endeavour' basis and may become out of date over time. No responsibility can be taken for any action or inaction taken or not in respect of the content of this blog.