Science stops being the exclusive property of specialists
Em dois bares de Juiz de Fora, nos dias 19 e 20 de maio, pesquisadores e cidadãos comuns se sentarão à mesma mesa para discutir chuvas urbanas, redes sociais, narrativas de dados e futebol como fenômeno social. O Pint of Science — maior festival de comunicação científica do mundo — chega à cidade pelo oitavo ano consecutivo com entrada gratuita, movido pela convicção de que o conhecimento não pertence apenas às universidades. É um gesto antigo e necessário: o de devolver ao espaço público aquilo que foi produzido, em última instância, para ele.
- A ciência ainda carrega, para muitos, a imagem de algo distante e hermético — e essa distância tem consequências reais para como as pessoas compreendem o mundo em que vivem.
- O Pint of Science responde a essa distância com uma provocação simples: levar pesquisadores para dentro dos bares, onde as conversas já acontecem de qualquer forma.
- Nos dois dias do festival, quatro mesas temáticas vão conectar questões acadêmicas a experiências cotidianas — das enchentes urbanas ao peso psicológico das redes sociais, da desinformação ao futebol como espelho da sociedade.
- A entrada gratuita e a escolha dos espaços não são detalhes logísticos, mas declarações: de que o público é capaz de lidar com complexidade, e de que a ciência ganha quando sai do auditório.
- Oito anos de presença em Juiz de Fora sugerem que o modelo funciona — que a distância entre universidade e comunidade é menor do que parece, quando alguém se dá ao trabalho de atravessá-la.
Na noite de 19 de maio, o Experimental Container e o Bar do Luiz, em Juiz de Fora, vão se transformar temporariamente em algo diferente do que costumam ser. Pesquisadores vão se sentar em mesas de bar para falar sobre chuva e cidades, sobre adolescentes e algoritmos, sobre o peso das telas na vida de quem está crescendo. É o Pint of Science — o maior festival de comunicação científica do mundo — chegando à cidade pelo oitavo ano seguido, desta vez com entrada gratuita.
A ideia central do festival é direta: a ciência não pertence apenas às salas de aula. Fernanda Bombonato, professora de química da Universidade Federal de Juiz de Fora e uma das organizadoras, descreve o problema que o evento tenta resolver — a percepção, ainda comum, de que a universidade e o conhecimento científico são coisas que acontecem longe, para outras pessoas. Quando a ciência entra num bar, ela deixa de ser propriedade exclusiva dos especialistas.
A programação dos dois dias reflete essa ambição. Na terça-feira, uma conversa vai examinar o que os padrões de chuva revelam sobre como as cidades são construídas; outra vai discutir as mecânicas das redes sociais e o que significa crescer num ambiente projetado para ser viciante. Na quarta, o foco se divide entre a weaponização de dados e narrativas — quem tem o poder de definir o que soa como verdade — e o futebol tratado não como esporte, mas como janela para a sociedade.
O que distingue o festival é sua recusa em separar ciência de vida. Enchentes urbanas determinam onde as pessoas moram. Redes sociais moldam como os jovens se enxergam. As histórias que acreditamos influenciam como votamos e em quem confiamos. Ao trazer essas conversas para os bares, de graça, o Pint of Science faz um argumento silencioso: você já se importa com essas coisas. A ciência é só uma forma de pensar sobre elas com mais clareza.
On the evening of May 19th, the Experimental Container and Bar do Luiz in Juiz de Fora will become something other than what they usually are. Researchers will pull up chairs at tables meant for drinking beer. The conversation will turn to rain and cities, to teenagers scrolling through their phones, to the stories we tell ourselves about what is true. This is Pint of Science, the world's largest science communication festival, arriving in the city for its eighth consecutive year—and this time, it's free to walk in.
The festival operates on a simple idea: science does not belong only in lecture halls. It belongs in the spaces where people actually gather. Fernanda Bombonato, a chemistry professor at the Federal University of Juiz de Fora and one of the festival's organizers, describes the mission plainly. Many people still see the university and scientific knowledge as something distant, something that happens elsewhere, to other people. Pint of Science exists to collapse that distance. When science moves into a bar, it stops being the exclusive property of specialists. It becomes part of the conversation, part of the evening, part of how we understand the world we live in.
The programming reflects this ambition. On Tuesday evening, two separate venues will host two separate conversations. At the Experimental Container, researchers from the university will discuss what rainfall patterns reveal about how cities are built and how they function—the relationship between urbanization, climate, and the concrete consequences of both. Across town at Bar do Luiz, the focus shifts to adolescents and social media: the mechanics of likes and algorithmic feeds, the psychological weight of constant visibility, what it means to grow up in a space designed to be addictive.
Wednesday brings a different pair of questions. One room will examine how data gets weaponized, how information shapes the narratives we believe, who holds the power to define what sounds like truth in an age of competing claims and competing platforms. The other will treat football not as sport but as a window into society itself—a space where performance, power, and passion intersect, where culture and politics and human desire all converge on a field.
What makes this festival distinctive is its refusal to separate science from life. These are not abstract academic exercises. Urban flooding affects where people live and whether they can afford to stay. Social media shapes how young people see themselves. The stories we believe determine how we vote, what we buy, who we trust. Football is not separate from economics or gender or national identity. By hosting these conversations in bars, by making them free, by treating the audience as adults capable of engaging with complexity, Pint of Science makes a quiet argument: you already care about these things. You already live inside these questions. Science is just a way of thinking about them more clearly.
The festival has been running in Juiz de Fora since 2018, a sign that the model works, that people will show up, that the gap between the university and the community is not as wide as it sometimes feels. On May 19th and 20th, it will happen again. The doors will be open. The beer will be cold. The conversation will be free.
Notable Quotes
Science leaves behind its image as knowledge restricted to experts and enters spaces of social gathering— Fernanda Bombonato, chemistry professor and festival organizer at UFJF
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a science festival need to happen in a bar instead of, say, a university auditorium?
Because most people don't go to university auditoriums. They go to bars. If you want to reach people where they actually are, you have to meet them there—not as a special event, but as part of their regular evening.
But doesn't that risk making science seem trivial? Like it's just entertainment?
The opposite, actually. It says science is important enough to be part of ordinary conversation. It's not something you have to dress up for or prepare for. It's something you can think about over a drink with friends.
What kind of person shows up to something like this?
People who are curious but maybe intimidated by formal settings. People who care about their cities, their kids, what they see online. People who don't think of themselves as "science people" but who live inside scientific questions every day.
The topics seem deliberately chosen—rain, social media, data, football. Is there a pattern?
They're all things that touch people's lives directly. You experience rain. Your teenager is on social media. You encounter misinformation. You watch football or know someone who does. The science isn't abstract; it's about understanding the world you're already living in.
Why has this festival lasted eight years in Juiz de Fora specifically?
Because it works. Because there's hunger for this kind of conversation. Because the university and the city realized they don't have to be separate worlds.