In a time when trust in institutions is fragile and misinformation spreads fast, citizen science offers something refreshingly powerful: the democratisation of science. As Bäckstrand (2003) argued, the boundary between science and politics should no longer be the exclusive domain of experts. If public policy is to reflect the realities of our daily lives, then public participation in the science behind it is essential.
Becoming a citizen scientist
In April, I joined a project called Clean Air Barnet, run in collaboration with Middlesex University, which gave me the chance to become a citizen scientist and learn more about the invisible threat of air pollution. I was one of 50 volunteers equipped with an Atmotube portable monitor that recorded particulate matter (PM1, 2.5, 10); and volatile organic compounds (VOCs). PM are tiny, toxic particles that that come from sources like vehicle exhaust, industrial emissions, and railways. The numbers (PM1, 2.5, 10) indicate their size in microns. Smaller ones can get deep into our lungs and bloodstream, causing respiratory and heart issues. VOCs are gases released from products like cleaning sprays, paints, air fresheners, and building materials. Many are synthetic, and indoor levels can be much higher than outdoors. VOCs can trigger asthma, irritate the eyes and throat, and pose long-term health risks.
The project was simple in structure but powerful in its implications: monitor your daily activities, reflect on the data, and start conversations about what it reveals. As a postgraduate student studying climate change, it was a natural fit.Particularly because, beyond health, PM and VOCs are also an environmental problem: PM contributes to haze, reducing air quality, and negatively affecting ecosystems, while VOCs can react with sunlight and other pollutants exacerbating smog and contributing to climate change.
But beyond the academic interest, it made something abstract feel very real, especially in light of recent events. Also in April, Mayor Sadiq Khan unveiled a statue to commemorate Ella Adoo-Kissi-Debrah, the nine-year-old girl who died in 2013 due to severe asthma exacerbated by air pollution. She became the first person in the UK to have air pollution officially listed as a cause of death. Her story is a stark reminder that poor air quality is not just an environmental issue, it’s a public health emergency, particularly for the most vulnerable.
Ella’s legacy has driven real political momentum, including the expansion of London’s Ultra Low Emission Zone (ULEZ), which has reduced nitrogen dioxide levels by 27%. But her story also reveals a critical blind spot: while outdoor pollution is increasingly monitored and regulated, indoor air quality remains largely ignored. This is where projects like Clean Air Barnet play a vital role, empowering residents to collect meaningful data, raise awareness, and advocate for cleaner, safer environments in the places we live, work, study, and ultimately breathe.
What the data taught me
Commuting on the Northern Line (see Graph 1), I noticed PM levels spiking dramatically, far worse than I had expected. Londoners spend hours each week on the Tube, often unaware of how much pollution we breathe underground, from metal dust to poor ventilation, and constant braking. For someone with a respiratory condition, these readings would be concerning. For the rest of us, it's a quiet but chronic toll on our long-term health (see Image 1 from my monitor).
My readings during a 30-minute commute routinely exceeded WHO air quality guidelines, particularly on the Northern Line, where poor air circulation and old infrastructure intensify exposure. But it wasn’t just the commute. At home, I watched PM levels rise when I cooked, used cleaning sprays, or even showered.
These numbers, once abstract, quickly became personal and actionable. They told a story of how our daily habits, such as lighting a candle, taking long showers, or having a barbecue, can multiply into (in)visible risks. The monitor didn’t just collect data; it evoked reflection. It made me reconsider how everyday activities affect not just my health, but how, when multiplied across a city, they contribute to a much larger problem.