Congratulations on the documentary. What was it like having a TV crew follow you around – did you ever get used to it?

It was surprising in many ways, and I never quite got used to it.

I always had sleepless nights beforehand and, on filming days, completely lost my ability to articulate in front of the camera. I couldn’t believe how much footage the camera crew filmed. They film everything so they can find an angle, a thread, that will eventually run through the story. They also record a lot of filler material: walking along corridors, staring into space, driving the car.

The process of obtaining the driving shots was quite an experience and the “walking down corridor” scenes needed a lot of reruns. Hospitals are noisy places, particularly metal trolleys that appear just when you’ve nearly finished the perfect nonchalant/thoughtful walking shot.

The documentary included your family’s own personal cancer story. Did the experience change the way you think about communicating your research to the public?

Yes definitely. I think, as researchers, we have a habit of thinking that the public might find our work boring, but that’s not the case. It turns out that the public have a real appetite for learning about what scientists do. At first, I was worried about including my mum, but I realise that people need to understand what motivates you before they will really trust your message.

Talking of my mother, she’s a natural! There is a scene where she opens the front door to welcome me in and sounds completely relaxed, even though we’d practiced the shot a few times and actually filmed it at the end of my visit. Has she always been such a good actress? I’m rethinking my childhood now!

The film highlights the potential impact of your research — including an incredible result for one patient – but how do you define impact in cancer science?

I’m a clinician-scientist so I’m biased. I will always think that the true measure of impact is in the improvements we make to peoples’ lives.

But what we actually mean by improvement is subjective, as I discovered with Trevor’s story. In my 20-plus years of phase I trials, only a handful of patients have started an experimental drug with end-stage cancer and left in complete remission. He was one. The results of his PET scan came as a surprise both of us. When I told Trevor his report showed complete remission, we were both so stunned that we were oblivious to the cameraman circling around us.

The documentary featured Trevor’s family and his backstory – watching it made me re-evaluate the impact of what we do. We talk about a person’s “quality of life” as quite an abstract concept but there are so many parts of life that contribute to its quality:  relationships, holiday plans, hobbies, everything. The texture of life is at least as important as its duration.

Why do you think storytelling and media exposure is important for accelerating cancer research?

When anyone starts talking to me about financial planning, I switch off. I know it’s really important, but I can’t help myself. We can easily forget that other people feel like that about science. Their eyes glaze over, we’ve lost them. Story-telling and metaphors are powerful tools, if only just to embed a tiny bit more information. Otherwise, we offer nothing but white noise.

The documentary was cleverly edited so each chunk of information was buffered with illustrations and patient narratives. Although I’m a fan of metaphors, some concepts elude simplification, like trying to explain mRNA in a bite-sized way. Is it a coincidence that the most “hard to explain” bits of biology are the ones that end up attracting the greatest public suspicion?

My intention behind getting involved in the documentary was to make the general public aware of the concept of precancer and the untapped opportunity of preventing cancer. Currently, there are very few pharma companies on board so we need governmental and public backing to maintain our momentum.

Public advocacy can be powerful. You only need to look at the history of smoking cessation policy in the UK to see that. There were moments along the 70-year tussle with tobacco companies where public campaigners – emboldened by CRUK – saved it from oblivion.

For other researchers who might be hesitant to engage with the media, what advice would you give?

Go in with a message and make sure you are giving it to the right audience. Expect to be surprised by the people you hear from afterwards. I got messages of support from old school friends, colleagues and even patients. My favourite was an anonymous postcard of encouragement from Cornwall addressed to “The Cancer Detective, Oxford”.

We should take any opportunities to de-mystify our work and provide a counterweight to all the science-scepticism out there. But not everyone will love you for it, and this too is surprising, even though Theodore Roosevelt once said “it is not the critic who counts”.

If I was given the decision to take part again, I would agree in a heartbeat.