Quanta’s Thomas Lin Trusts Public Can Handle Complex Ideas

Depending on who you are, Thomas Lin is either a name you don’t yet know or the editor who proved that serious science writing could have the narrative craft of a New Yorker feature. He was the founding editor of Quanta magazine, which offers accessible, rigorous stories in fundamental math, physics, biology and computer science, often accompanied by stunning visuals. In 2012, the nonprofit, editorially independent magazine funded by the Simons Foundation was a start-up; by 2022, the staff, notably senior editor Natalie Wolchover, won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. See, for example, Wolchover’s definitive article, “The Webb Space Telescope Will Rewrite Cosmic History. If It Works.”

Lin first edited my pieces in 2019, and his edits elevated my prose in ways that were good for the reader—and for me. As a mathematician, I wanted to grow as a writer, and he pushed me to think more deeply about what the reader needed. When I interviewed Vinton Cerf, the “father of the internet,” about his efforts to bring the internet into outer space, for example, I focused—for good reason—on getting the technical details right. But Lin reminded me that cultural context matters, too, which is why my story also mentioned that Cerf was the inspiration for the godlike Architect in the Matrix movies—a fact I had not uncovered.

He also encouraged me to invite readers in to the math community and to experiment with graphics. For “Math of the Penguins,” a piece on the geometry of emperor penguins huddling for warmth, he had me draw the visuals myself, with his team’s support. Because the magazine is read by high schoolers and Nobel medalists alike, its name opens doors. I’ve reached out to the likes of Christine Darden (a NASA mathematician profiled in the book Hidden Figures) and Don Knuth (the computer pioneer who gave up email in the 1990s) and found myself in conversation with them in short order. Nearly everyone I know who loves math and science also loves Quanta.

In 2024, Lin left the magazine to launch Quanta Books, in partnership with Farrar, Straus and Giroux, to illuminate humanity’s quest to understand the universe. I sat down with Lin to discuss how scholarship transforms into accessible stories, a writing mistake he sees often and how some underestimate the public’s hunger for complexity. This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Q: In just over a decade, Quanta raised the bar on serious math and science storytelling. What were you thinking in those first days, back when it was just an idea?

A: I wanted to bring out what’s truly interesting and exciting about the science and math itself. Human elements can make the story better, but the discovery, the ideas behind it and how they came to be—that’s the core.

We put a lot of work into the research to really understand it ourselves before we try to explain it. We’re not chasing sensational aspects. There’s a deeper, beautiful story embedded within the ideas themselves. We give people access to these esoteric but important areas on the frontiers of science and math. We want the people who know these disciplines best to feel, “Yes, this is what mattered about the discovery.” Also, we want to let everyone in to enjoy the beauty of that work.

Q: Many scholars assume that public writing means simplifying, yet Quanta shows there’s an audience hungry for complexity. Do some public scholars underestimate their audience?

A: I think so. That’s one of the things I wanted to prove. I’ve been in mainstream newsrooms where some editors assume that the audience is going to be afraid or turned off because there’s some math.

We don’t shy away from hard concepts; we want them to come through. Some publications simplify to the point where you no longer have much of the science or math left. We don’t do that. We tackle the gnarly ideas. The most complicated, abstract, technical ideas are often big, important ideas—and are covered in some of our most popular pieces.

Complexity is never a reason not to do a story. If anything, when something is important and really hard to understand, our services are needed.

Q: How do you make a story accessible to a high schooler, while also engaging for an expert?

A: The simplification we do is to try to avoid as much jargon as possible. You don’t need all of that to understand that there was a problem, that this was the sticking point, that people tried all these things and then something let someone see, “Oh, wow, this is how we connect the dots.”

So, we ask, “What’s the critical information, and how do we say it in regular words, introducing only a few necessary terms, while also respecting people’s intelligence?” Most people aren’t going to spend five years learning all that technical language to read the papers themselves. We try to form the bridge. People want to understand the world better.

Q: You’ve edited many smart people into better writers. What’s a mistake you’ve fixed over and over that experts don’t always see?

A: It’s not just experts. It can be journalists.

Q: Fair enough.

A: Steven Pinker, [a Harvard psychology professor], wrote about the “curse of knowledge.” At some point, you learn so much that you forget what it’s like not to know those things. That’s where it really helps to have editors serving as a proxy for readers. They can tell you, “You know this, but the reader doesn’t, so unpack it more, and pare back unnecessary technicality.”

Structure is a puzzle you have to figure out—that’s the fun of it. A writer or expert will often describe things point to point, the way they naturally think of them. But if every idea is presented with the same level of importance, it’s very hard for the reader to connect the dots.

Ultimately it’s about empathy for the reader. Put yourself in readers’ shoes. Think about what it’s like to not know any of the things you know.

Q: How can an academic know if a story they have in mind is better suited to an article or a book?

A: Sometimes an idea starts as an article, and some articles have legs—there’s more to the story. Unfortunately, some books could have been an article.

Q: I read some of those!

A: I ask, what really needs a book-length treatment? What will keep people engaged for a few hundred pages, with enough ideas that they’re learning throughout? Ideally, a book isn’t one simple idea you grasp from the introduction, with the rest only supporting it.

It’s not just complexity, either. Not everything complex requires a book. You can write a very long technical paper for people who need that. One big question is “What’s the idea’s importance?”

For me, it’s not “How do we get the most eyeballs?” It’s not “Is this trending?” or “Does someone have a big social media following?” It’s more, “What is essential reading?”

From Quanta magazine to Quanta Books, my philosophy is “What’s actually important right now?” We talk to experts about essential stories that people may not even know they want. Ultimately, it’s tapping into curiosity. You don’t have to call it “science” or “math.” It’s just wanting to know more.

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