That was the thinking in the early 1990s when Carl Sagan – astronomer, author, TV personality and perhaps the most famous scientific figurehead of his time – was nominated for the National Academy of Sciences. Despite his impressive publication record, he was rejected. Not because his work was inadequate. But because he appeared on television too often. He was too popular. Received too much applause from the public. It was given a name: the Sagan Effect. The idea that anyone who focuses on science communication is by definition an inferior academic.

I confess, I am sometimes confronted with it too. When an article by Paul Kirschner and I became the subject of an editorial in Nature, I repeatedly got the reaction ‘Ah, so you are a real scientist?’ I recently discussed it with Ionica Smeets, professor of science communication. She gave me the tip to look up the Sagan Effect again. And so I did. I found a particularly sharp article from The Journal of Neuroscience (Martinez-Conde, 2016), in which precisely that question is central: is the Sagan Effect still alive?

The answer is – unfortunately – a nuanced yes.

Martinez-Conde shows that scientists who actively communicate with the public publish on average slightly more and are cited more often than their colleagues who do not. Yet the perception persists that popular scientists ‘sell themselves’ or ‘are not in the lab enough’. Young researchers are often advised to wait with a book or blog until after their appointment. Those who are visible are sometimes subtly obstructed in grant applications, assessment committees, and internal promotions.

Even the author of the article—a recognised neuroscientist—was told by her supervisor that her annual output was “out of balance”: She had published more popular science articles than scientific ones, while her lab was the most productive of the entire faculty that year. The message: keep it neat and, above all, separate.

The pain is not in the explicit ban but in the implicit signal: that visibility is only legitimate if you have already achieved everything. That you are not allowed to be a scientist and a communicator unless you are Nobel Prize-worthy. And that is more than a missed opportunity. It undermines young voices, new perspectives, and precisely those groups that we do want to involve more in science.

Because, as Martinez-Conde rightly notes, it may be that the Sagan Effect is less pronounced than it used to be. But the ambivalence lives on. In the looks. In the slights. In the fear of being “too mediagenic.” In the warning: “Don’t blog too much, or they’ll think you’re not serious.”

That is precisely why we must continue to mention it, not to complain but to make room for those who dare to share scientific insights and do not make a point of public listening. Ultimately, science only counts when it is shared.

Thanks to Ionica for the tip and to Sagan for the groundwork. Maybe it’s time we finally reverse his effect.