It has become increasingly common for academics to use social media to communicate with wider audiences. Twitter, like many other social platforms, typically measures success in terms of numbers of followers, likes and retweets, but this only tells us something about the spreading of messages but not necessarily whether the content of the messages is understood or embraced. One way to ascertain this is through network and language analysis, which, used together, can tell us how effective the communication is. Economists tweet less, mention fewer people and have fewer conversations with strangers than a comparable group of experts in the sciences, and use less accessible language with words that are more complex, with more abbreviations and with a more distant tone. Their tweets are less personal and less inclusive than those used by scientists. This is what appeared in April 2017 when we gathered data on tens of thousands of tweets from the Twitter accounts of both the top 25 economists and 25 scientists as identified by IDEAS and Science, including the top three economists at the time, Paul Krugman, Joseph Stiglitz, and Erik Brynjolfsson and, on the other side, the top three scientists, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Brian Cox, and Richard Dawkins. At that time those accounts covered roughly two thirds of all the following. The timing is significant because 2016 has been declared the year of post-truth politics, the year in which appeals to emotions (pathos) superseded the significance of factual evidence-based information (logos), affecting people's constructions and interpretations of events. This has been accompanied by the growing prominence of political "alt" movements (e.g. UKIP, the Alt-right) and their aggressive, provocative, and populist narratives, and "fake news" leading to political shock events such as Brexit and the Trump election. The relatively low traction of economists in these public debates has been and continues to be an important issue. Does the public not trust economists? Don't they understand... The analysis lasted - couple hours - not enough information - few years - couple days
few years

"Looks good, Boys." Billy-Eye knew he had been taking a big chance leaving the final details for his sons to handle. He had not even visited the place all week. It was Friday, 5:30 PM--thirty minutes before the grand opening of Billy-Eye's Arcade and Dance Barn. The arcade room had been arranged nicely--although not the way Billy-Eye would have done it. But still, it was good. The two popcorn machines were ready to go. High school aged workers were ready to hand out bags of the stuff. The first group in the competition was warming up on the bandstand. A stand-alone blackboard to the right side of the drums had the name of the band written across it in white chalk: The Triangulators. Each band would be responsible for putting their name on that board. "Glad you like it, Daddy." Craig beamed. Finally, he had done something right. "So, what do you think? Will we have a full house tonight?" said Billy-Eye. "Sure," said Lenny with a naive smile. "Hopefully," said Craig. "They get in free, get to hear eleven bands, and get all the free popcorn and coke they want. I'm sure the kids have heard our radio ad." "Maybe we should have made the games free too," said Lenny. "Hey, we can't give everything away," said Billy-Eye. "We're only charging a quarter for the games as it is." He walked back out into the main hall. "Is the refrigerator all stocked up?" "Yes, Sir," said Craig. "It's loaded with frozen pizzas, hot dogs, and condiments. And we've got plenty of hot dogs buns and candy." "And the soda fountains?" "Ready to go." "And I see you got the ice machine set up." Billy-Eye smiled. "Great. I'm proud of you boys." Who took a big chance on leaving the final details for hi sons to handle. - Lenny - not enough information - Bill-Eye - Craig
Bill-Eye

With regular money now coming in from the Guardian column, my regular contributions to other publications and the modest subscription revenue from The Friday Thing, I had been living something of the high life since arriving in London. I had started hanging out with the great and the good of the dot com world: attending launch parties for new sites, going to parties to celebrate them staying in business for a whole year, eating their lunches, drinking their booze and learning their secrets while they tried to convince me to write about them in my column. Many of these online entrepreneurs had become my friends and I'd managed to find myself a new girlfriend - Maggie, a Welsh journalist who was a restaurant reviewer for a food and drink website. This was a brilliant blag: it meant we could eat at some of London's best restaurants and never pay a penny. Life was wonderful: The Friday Thing and the Guardian column meant that my plan to use the Internet to become hugely famous and successful was firmly on track, I'd made lots of new friends, and, on top of all that, I was getting laid and eating gourmet food for free. Even Sam Lewis was jealous, and he was rich. Meanwhile, the people I was writing about were not having such an easy time of it. 2003 was a really strange time to be covering the 'new media' industry - mainly because no one was really sure for how long there would be an industry left to cover. The dot com boom of 1999 seemed like a millennium ago: a period in history as crazy as the tulip craze or the South Sea Bubble look to us now. The first signs of trouble for the industry had come in 2000. As the century turned, so had the market and - to use the parlance of analysts - the boom had turned out to be a bubble. And then the bubble had burst. What probably happened to most of the main character's dot com friends? - They were promoted - They became rich - They lost their jobs - not enough information
They lost their jobs