A brewery is not a classroom, and that is exactly the point.
Em Salvador, uma cervejaria no Rio Vermelho se transforma, por três noites consecutivas, em espaço de encontro entre ciência e cidadania. O festival internacional Pint of Science — nascido em Londres em 2013 com a convicção de que o conhecimento científico não pertence apenas às universidades — chega à capital baiana entre os dias 18 e 20 de maio com doze pesquisadores dispostos a conversar sobre prevenção de ISTs, democratização da tecnologia e ciência nas periferias. É um lembrete de que a curiosidade humana não precisa de credencial para se sentar à mesa.
- O acesso ao conhecimento científico ainda é tratado como privilégio — e o Pint of Science existe justamente para contestar essa lógica, levando pesquisadores a bares onde qualquer pessoa pode entrar sem ingresso e sem inscrição.
- A edição de Salvador reúne nomes como o 'Afrofísico' Alê Rodrigues e pesquisadores da UFBA e da Fiocruz, criando uma tensão produtiva entre o rigor acadêmico e a informalidade de uma cervejaria.
- O Nordeste registrou crescimento de 60% no número de cidades participantes — de 23 para 37 municípios —, sinalizando que a demanda por ciência acessível vai muito além dos grandes centros.
- A programação de três noites aborda temas urgentes e concretos: ciência nas comunidades periféricas, democratização tecnológica e prevenção de infecções sexualmente transmissíveis, com mediação feita por pesquisadoras.
- A cervejaria Art Malte ampliou sua estrutura para receber famílias, com espaço infantil, brindes para os primeiros cem presentes por noite e sorteios — sinais de que o evento quer ser acolhedor, não apenas instrutivo.
A partir desta segunda-feira, a Cervejaria Art Malte, no Rio Vermelho, deixa de ser apenas um lugar para tomar cerveja. Por três noites seguidas — 18, 19 e 20 de maio, das 19h às 22h —, ela recebe o Pint of Science, festival internacional que há treze anos transforma bares em espaços de diálogo científico. A entrada é gratuita, não há inscrição prévia, e o único custo é o do que cada um decidir consumir.
O festival nasceu em Londres em 2013, quando estudantes queriam compartilhar suas pesquisas em ambientes descontraídos, onde as perguntas pudessem surgir sem cerimônia. O modelo se espalhou: hoje o Pint of Science está presente em mais de quinhentas cidades no mundo, incluindo 213 municípios brasileiros. No Nordeste, o crescimento foi de 60% em relação ao ano passado — de 23 para 37 cidades participantes —, reflexo de uma expansão que o pesquisador Denis Soares, da UFBA, ajudou a iniciar na região em 2017.
Em Salvador, cada noite tem foco próprio. A primeira aborda a produção de ciência em bairros periféricos, com pesquisadores da UFBA e da Fiocruz. A segunda discute a democratização do conhecimento científico e tecnológico, com a presença do físico Alê Rodrigues, o 'Afrofísico'. A terceira trata diretamente da prevenção de infecções sexualmente transmissíveis, com especialistas em saúde pública. As três sessões são mediadas por pesquisadoras — Dalila Brito, Taneska Cal e Theolis Barbosa —, garantindo que as conversas permaneçam ancoradas no trabalho real.
A cervejaria adaptou seu espaço para o evento, incluindo uma área para crianças, para que famílias possam participar. Os primeiros cem presentes de cada noite ganham brindes, e há sorteios ao final de cada sessão. Desde 2024, a coordenação local é feita pela cientista Valéria Borges, da Fiocruz Bahia. O que o festival propõe é simples e radical ao mesmo tempo: que pesquisadores falem ao lado das pessoas, não acima delas — e que qualquer um que apareça já tenha feito a parte mais difícil.
Starting Monday night, Salvador's Art Malte Brewery in Rio Vermelho will become something other than a place to drink beer. For three consecutive evenings, it will host conversations between researchers and anyone who walks through the door—no registration required, no ticket price, just the cost of whatever you order. This is Pint of Science, an international festival that has spent the last thirteen years turning bars into classrooms, and this year it arrives in the Bahian capital with twelve researchers ready to talk about subjects that matter: how to prevent sexually transmitted infections, how science reaches the poorest neighborhoods, how technology gets shared fairly.
The festival began in London in 2013, born from the simple idea that scientific knowledge shouldn't live only in universities. A group of students wanted to share their research in relaxed settings, over drinks, where people could ask questions without feeling stupid. The model worked. By 2026, Pint of Science operates in more than five hundred cities worldwide, including two hundred and thirteen Brazilian municipalities. The Northeast has been part of this expansion since 2017, when researcher Denis Soares from the Federal University of Bahia first brought the festival to the region. Now, in 2026, the Northeast has grown by sixty percent—from twenty-three participating cities last year to thirty-seven this year.
In Salvador, the event runs from May 18th through the 20th, each night from seven in the evening until ten. A musical warm-up begins at half past six. The first night focuses on science within communities, with researchers from UFBA and Fiocruz discussing how knowledge production happens in peripheral neighborhoods. The second night centers on democratizing technology and scientific understanding, featuring Alê Rodrigues—known widely as the "Afrofísico"—alongside other scholars examining how science becomes accessible. The final evening addresses STI prevention directly, with medical and public health experts offering information and practical guidance.
The brewery itself has expanded its capacity for this event, adding a children's space so families can attend without leaving kids at home. The first hundred people each night receive small gifts, and there will be raffles at the end of each session. The researchers participating come from institutions like UFBA, Fiocruz Bahia, and the Collective Macabéa, bringing expertise in fields ranging from physics to public health to social science. The moderators—Dalila Brito, Taneska Cal, and Theolis Barbosa—are themselves researchers, ensuring the conversations stay grounded in actual work rather than simplified talking points.
What makes Pint of Science different from a lecture is the setting itself. A brewery is not a classroom. People are sitting at tables, drinking, talking to friends. A researcher stands up and explains their work, and then anyone can ask anything. There is no hierarchy of knowledge in the room, no sense that some questions are too basic or too challenging. The festival assumes that people want to understand the world they live in, and that researchers want to explain it—not down to people, but alongside them.
Since 2024, scientist Valéria Borges from Fiocruz Bahia has coordinated the festival in Salvador. The growth across the Northeast suggests the model is working: more cities, more researchers, more people showing up to hear about science in a place where they feel welcome. The event is free, the only cost is what you choose to drink, and you don't even have to decide in advance. You just show up.
Citas Notables
The festival began with students who wanted to share research in relaxed settings, where people could ask questions without feeling intimidated.— Pint of Science founding principle (2013)
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a brewery matter for this? Why not a university auditorium?
Because a brewery is where people already are. It's not intimidating. You can bring your partner, your friend, order a beer, and listen to someone talk about their research without feeling like you're entering a space that wasn't built for you.
And the researchers—do they actually want to be there, or is this an obligation?
Many of them do want to be there. The whole point of Pint of Science is that it started with researchers who were frustrated that their work never reached beyond other researchers. They wanted to talk about what they'd discovered, why it mattered, what it meant for people's lives.
The topics this year seem very specific—STI prevention, science in poor neighborhoods, technology access. Is that intentional?
Absolutely. Those aren't random. They're topics that affect people directly. If you live in a peripheral neighborhood, you want to know how science relates to your reality. If you're young and sexually active, you want real information about prevention. These aren't abstract questions.
The Northeast grew by sixty percent in participating cities. What does that tell you?
It tells you that people are hungry for this. That the model works. That researchers in smaller cities want to do this too, and communities want to listen. It's not just Salvador anymore—it's spreading.
What happens after the three nights end?
The conversations end, but the relationships don't necessarily. People meet researchers, ask questions, maybe follow their work. Some might even get interested in science as a career. The point isn't just the event itself—it's opening a door that usually stays closed.