Scientists are overwhelmingly male, especially in the top echelons — although there are plenty of women in biology. Surprisingly, although there are relatively few women in other “hard” sciences, quite a number of prominent astronomers are female. I suspect tradition may play a part here — when a few women make significant discoveries in a field, suddenly lots of girls want to follow their lead. Caroline Herschel (1750-1848) helped her brother to discover Uranus, named a comet, and was possibly the first professional female scientist in Europe. Among the present-day female stars in astronomy are the Ulsterwoman Jocelyn Bell, the discoverer of the Pulsar (an extremely dense, hot, dead star, which emits blasts of energetic radiation), and Jill Tarter, who as head of the SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) is Earth’s alien-finder general.

As for one old canard, the socially inept boffin — it’s no longer true. The field of physics, in particular, is reputedly full of wild-haired geniuses who cannot tie their own shoelaces. In fact, physicists, and especially cosmologists, are the rock gods of science. They move with effortless social ease compared with their colleagues in other disciplines. Old Einstein himself was no social dunce; he loved women and song, as did the famously extrovert Richard Feynman.

Moreover, astronomy boasts one actual rock god, Queen guitarist Brian May, who was awarded his doctorate last year for work on the zodiacal light.

With notable exceptions, however, scientists remain terrible communicators. Britain’s scientific community, for instance, includes the only significant population in the country still unable to operate a mobile telephone. What’s more, as a science journalist, I have lost count of the times that, when a hugely newsworthy discovery has been announced, the genius responsible has decided to go climbing in the Andes and will not be taking calls. Someone should perhaps do some experiments to find out why.