Thinking scientifically: an Interview with Eli Levenson-Falk

When USC professor Eli Levenson-Falk talks about quantum mechanics, he focuses on understanding before equations. Known for his work in superconducting circuits and quantum measurement, Levenson-Falk has also emerged as a thoughtful voice on how scientists communicate their discoveries. In an interview with “The Lab Report,” he reflected on writing about this year’s Nobel Prize in Physics and the art of explaining science to an audience that’s both fascinated and often confused by quantum technology.

The Nobel as a Teaching Moment

Levenson-Falk appreciates that the Nobel Prize draws attention to physics in ways few other events can. “They raise the profile of a field,” he says. “People get excited about the research.” 

When Levenson-Falk received an invitation to write an article on the 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics, he accepted without hesitation. The subject of the award, superconducting circuits and quantum computing, is the subject of his own research here at USC — not to mention that the senior laureate, John Clarke, served on Levenson-Falk’s Ph.D. committee. The other honorees were also longtime colleagues of his. 

Writing the article, he says, gave him a reason to step outside his lab and reflect on how discoveries reach the general public.

The quick turnaround time for the article forced him to organize ideas fast, a skill he now considers essential for clear communication.“It’s good training for me,” he says. “When I have to write a grant, I can’t stare at a blank page.” 

For Levenson-Falk, the Nobel Prize has deep repercussions on the public. Each award offers a story that can renew curiosity and remind people that science, at its best, is a shared conversation between experts and everyone eager to learn.

That excitement, however, can drift into confusion. Quantum computing, he explains, attracts “a lot of overhype [and] misunderstandings.” The challenge is to keep people inspired while keeping expectations realistic.

Institutional Barriers to Outreach

One of the main limits to science advocacy is scheduling according to Levenson-Falk. “There’s only so many things you can do, and you want to prioritize the ones that keep you in your job,” he says.

“My number one job is training PhD students. My number 1B job is teaching students in the classroom.”

According to Levenson-Falk, advocacy is often only “a thing you do because you love to do it, “ because the structure of academia pressures concession. He acknowledges that some professors may choose to emphasize outreach, but it often results in sacrificing their research programs, teaching efforts or sleep schedules.

“There’s really no incentive to do this stuff,” he says. “At least in the sciences, it’s really not rewarded much professionally.” 

In cases of tenure, junior faculty are judged primarily by research output. Instead of spending time spreading one’s scientific findings, “They’d much rather you just did more research,” he says.

He adds that outreach brings little financial support. “There’s not a lot of money in there…It’s not going to help with paying your students or your summer salary. “Training and skill development present another obstacle: few scientists are taught how to write or present for public audiences. 

Levenson-Falk attests that public speaking is a “ difficult skill.” 

“You have to train for it. You have to practice. You have to do it a lot to get really good at it.” That kind of practice is “not something you can often do in just little bits of spare time.”

Since written and oral communication are vital in making research more widely accessible, he encourages students to engage in dialogue with someone who reads like a more typical audience member, practicing their written communication skills with more than just scientific jargon in mind. 

Specifically, he describes a low-stakes drill: explain your work to an interested relative over email, wait for the reply, then revise. Fixing misunderstandings in that exchange reveal which ideas need a clearer frame and which terms create confusion. Clear writing helps in the lab, in the classroom and in public pieces that invite new readers into physics.

Engaging in formal training by trying classes outside of one’s science-focused major is another recommendation of his. He believes that undergraduates should study in places filled with experts across diverse fields, and utilize that range to become stronger, broader writers. 

In sharing his efforts to uplift scientific writers, Levenson-Falk shared a story of a student writing project where graduate students wrote “lay scientist” summaries of journal articles. The goal was to explain current research for a general science audience rather than for specialists. 

However, Levenson-Falk was unfortunately driven to sunset the effort after repeated AI-generated submissions, which undermined the practice he wanted students to build. The lesson he drew was simple: growth comes from doing the work, not outsourcing it.

The Role of AI

In his opinion, artificial intelligence has reached an awkward stage. “Right now, it’s exactly the worst level of functionality, where it’s really good, but not quite accurate enough,” he says. The tools impress users with fluent answers, yet that polish hides mistakes. “It will very confidently tell you incorrect things,” he explains. 

The problem, he says, lies in the source material itself: “What it’s telling you is some amalgamation of what’s on the internet.” The statistical blending of what people put on the internet can turn even accurate ideas into uncertain summaries.

Levenson-Falk doubts that the current systems even help people learn. “If you only care about 90%-95% accuracy, great. If you actually want to learn something, they don’t do a very good job…If I tell [AI], ‘I think you’re wrong,’ it will agree with me no matter what I say.” For him, genuine learning requires the opposite — someone willing to say that a claim is mistaken and to explain why.

Levenson-Falk uses AI sparingly — mostly to locate references slightly outside his expertise — and always verifies the content as a safety.

AI, he concludes, may speed up the accessibility of information, but it cannot replace judgment or challenge. To him, problem solving remains the essential work of both science and education.

The Art of Explanation

To Levenson-Falk,  explaining physics begins with knowing what not to say.  Once deduced, one can choose comparisons that connect with what people already know about the physical world. 

To describe quantum tunneling, for example, he uses the image of a ball rolling over a hill. 

“Quantum mechanics says I can roll it not far enough, and it’ll just sort of appear on the other side sometimes.” The analogy does not explain why, but it gives a visual starting point. “At that point, people can kind of understand,” he said. “You’re not telling them why, but you’re just saying, ‘That’s what quantum mechanics says.’”

Editing, he adds, is essential to refining those explanations. “You forget that some concepts aren’t intuitive,” he says. “This is where it really helps to have an editor who can tell you, Hey, that didn’t make sense.’” For popular science writing, he recommends editors who approach the text as readers, not specialists. “Your editor shouldn’t know that much about your field,” he says. 

For Levenson-Falk, clarity depends on conversation. Science communication improves when writers allow others to challenge their words and when teachers let students test their understanding against real confusion. Each exchange, he says, brings physics a little closer to common sense.

Thinking Like a Scientist

Eli Levenson-Falk believes the most valuable part of science education is seeking “more than knowing [the] results. It means understanding the process of science.”

This is straightforward: A person forms a hypothesis, designs a test, and adjusts their approach based on what the results show. 

“Thinking scientifically about the world is a skill everyone should have,” he says. “The world would be a better place if more people did that.” He connects this way of thinking to civic life. For him, scientific thinking is not limited to the lab. It is a framework for curiosity, judgment and humility — qualities that serve research and citizenship alike.

“You’re not unable to function if you don’t understand science,” he says. This connects back to his principal point that spreading scientific knowledge is important.

In his view, outreach is not a separate duty. It is a form of practice that refines the science itself. The same habits that build strong experiments — precision, patience and revision — also build understanding.  Advocacy becomes a civic act that connects research to the reasoning it depends on. “Thinking scientifically about the world,” Levenson-Falk says, “is a skill everyone should have.”