World

Qatar's got talent

Can a reality TV show change Middle Eastern attitudes about science?

December 18, 2012
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Reality TV has not always had it easy in the Middle East. Al-Ra’is (“The Boss” in Arabic), a Bahrain-based version of Big Brother, was suddenly pulled off air in 2004 because of Islamic protestors. By contrast, Stars of Science (SOS), an education and entertainment hybrid that celebrates scientific innovation, has been a huge success. It is embarking on its fifth season on the Pan Arab MBC network, which broadcasts on 17 Middle Eastern channels, with a potential viewership of 300m. The programme’s emphasis on innovation—not lifestyle—has secured its future.

Last year, 5,000 people registered on the SOS website in the hope that their inventions could compete for the show’s combined $600,000 (£370,000) in prize money. After casting calls in eight countries in the region, 16 shortlisted contestants endured a gruelling filming schedule that captured every triumph and frustration of their working hours for nine primetime episodes and daily website reports, blogs and tweets. The contestants and the development of their inventions, from “proof of concept” to the engineering and business plans, underwent intense scrutiny by a jury of scientific experts. These ranged from Harvard researchers and deans of engineering to cyber-architects and product designers. By the grand finale, only four contestants remained, each of them guaranteed prize money of between $50,000 and $300,000. It was a scientifically rigorous and mentally tough process. “In the beginning, we have an orientation week, with psychological training, which really helps,” says the programme’s executive producer Viviane Zaccour, a seasoned Lebanese-born television professional.

Zaccour’s sense of pizzazz helps makes science appeal to a younger, visually obsessed generation. The show’s live finale was a Las Vegas in the Arabian desert extravaganza featuring a laser performance by Theo Dari, eye-popping television graphics, flying dancers and animated projections which told the story of Doha, from a simple house in the desert to a teeming metropolis. Each segment entertainingly illustrated one of the four competing inventions.

In the selection of a final winner, the voting of the jury and the public are equally weighted. Predictably, the experts chose the two inventions with clear educational and commercial applications: 30-year-old Lebanese Mohamed Watfa’s Shared software, which uses one computer to generate virtual desktops on wooden desks in the classroom; and 28-year-old Kuwaiti Khaled Eid’s Holific, a portable 3D hologram system operated from a single laptop and projectors. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of viewers overwhelmingly texted their support for the 27-year-old, former Qatari national team swimmer Khalid Aboujassoum—enough for him to come first overall. Aboujassoum's Tahi (“Chef”) all-in-one automated cooking pot creates complex dishes by adding ingredients at different times. This not only frees Arab women from kitchen drudgery, but also keeps a statistical record of the prepared food’s nutritional value.

The show is filmed in the Qatar Science and Technology Park (QSTP), where contestants draw on state of the art R&D facilities at multinational companies like Siemens, GE and Microsoft, which are working on everything from nanotechnology to aerospace and robotics. Both SOS and QSTP are initiatives of the Qatar Foundation, which is behind the country’s educational and technological strategies to replace its carbon-based economy with one that generates revenue from knowledge and ideas by 2030. In a country of only 1,000 scientists, this presents a challenge.

SOS jury expert Dr Farouk El-Baz, an Egyptian-American and former NASA scientist, believes that the Middle East is suffering its current crisis—a dearth of professional scientists and knowledge-based entrepreneurialism—“because [it] did not empower individuals. Failing institutions suffocated the individual and prevented innovation of thought to develop.” Others blame fundamentalist Islam, with its emphasis on religious tradition.

Yet there is a different, age-old tradition, as celebrated in “1001 Inventions” and “Arabick Roots,” two lavish interactive exhibitions that recently arrived in Doha. They look back to the scientific gains of medieval Islam from the seventh century onwards. Visitors to the exhibitions feel that this history has been largely forgotten. Its impact is not lost on schoolchildren—as they told BBC journalist Anna Lacey, the exhibitions will change perceptions about the Arabs. Even eleven-year-olds understand the need to rebrand their people.

SOS and Qatar Foundation have also been reaching out to this age group. “For the longest time, there has been a certain supremacy associated with what is imported from the outside—it is the ‘white man’s complex,’” observes Dr Joe Khalil, a Lebanese academic who writes about media and Arab youth.  “A television show won’t get people to math class, but it can build confidence. One of the constantly repeated messages of SOS is ‘if I can dream I can make it,’ and this must be connected to a wide range of social transformations taking place in the region.”

Even among the contestants who didn’t make SOS’s finale, there is a sense of optimism. Bahraini Amina Alhawaj will seek FDA approval for her physiotherapy machines. Syrian Dr Hekmat Alrouh, now earning an MA in public heath, is about to embark on a technical innovation internship in medical entrepreneurialism. Even Aisha Saleh, an engineer from Sharjah who designed a suitcase that follows its owner around airports, is embarking on a new career, with the backing of her observant Muslim family.

A culture of science takes generations to build—a talent contest alone cannot prepare the Gulf states for when the oil runs out. But initiatives like SOS may be the first bold footstep.