ECSITE is the European network of science centres and museums (www.ecsite.net). The ECSITE Annual Conference, attended every year by several hundreds of professionals in science museums and science centres (870 at the last edition), and the ECSITE director forum, where full members of the association discuss on focused topics, are excellent observation points. Looking at what goes on in these meetings allows to track what is high on the agenda of the science-centre community, how the focus of interest moves, what are the main concerns of museum professionals.

What is the role of science museums nowadays? If we want to answer this question, we need to understand the historical period we are living and what role(s) museums can play. We are undoubtedly at the beginning of a new age based on a new relation between science and society, a concept which has been explained and repeated by sociologists and economists over and over again and is confirmed by statistics.

In the Rafael Nieto Auditorium of the National Autonomous University of San Luis Potosi Mexico, few chairs are empty. The room is full of Astrophysics professors, Solid State of Matter, Elementary Particles, Fluid Mechanics, etc. It is the 49th National Congress of Physic. Today ­extraordinarily- it has slip into the program an analysis round table about the new outlines in science museums in Mexico.

For the purpose of this article, Science & Society (S&S) is referred to as that current of thoughts and those cultural initiatives aimed at fostering dialogue between research, scientific and technical output on the one hand and society on the other, so as to allow people to make conscious decisions about science and the sustainability of its developments. This concept underlies the elaboration of the MUSE cultural concept, the new Science Museum in Trent, Northern Italy.

The obvious thing to say about popular science publishing in the last twenty years is that there has been a lot of it! That is important in itself. But it also means it is hazardous to offer general comment. The British journalist and commentator Bryan Appleyard recently wrote in the Sunday Times that the “hard stuff” in science was no longer attracting so many readers. Books answering many small questions about the world, or evoking a sense of wonder, do better - he reckons - than those which offer large certainties based on a scientific, or scientistic view of the world. That type, Appleyard claims, dominated the field for years after Steven Hawking’s A Brief History of Time, with its promise of a theory of everything.

Scientific publishing, here to be considered in a broader sense, as publishing of both specialised scientific journals and science popularisation works addressed to a wider audience, has been sailing for some years on troubled waters. To gather some possible food for thought is the purpose of this brief article.

Why should we care about science books? After all, we live in a "new media" world where students, researchers, and the public use the World Wide Web for all their information needs. Cutting edge research appears on "preprint archives" or "open access" online journals, text"books" appear as online sites with interactive presentations and links to presentation, for creating public discussion and dialogue, and even for archiving current research. In that kind of world, what’s the purpose of looking at "old fashioned" books?

In their contributions to this special issue, the British science writer Jon Turney and the American scholar Bruce Lewenstein discuss the validity of the book as a means for science communication in the era of the Internet, whereas the article by Vittorio Bo deals with scientific publishing in a broader sense.

What pushed His Excellency Enrico Fermi, acclaimed Academician of Italy entitled to a state car and driver, to leave Italy all of a sudden in December 1938 in order to reach New York, after a short stop in Stockholm for the ceremony that celebrated him as a Nobel laureate for physics, and to accept a job as a simple physics lecturer at the Columbia University?

A physicist. That is what John Ziman was in the beginning. As he tells us in “On being a physicist,” this implies a kind of nationality, that is, a laboriously learned identity that, at the end of the day, becomes natural. Physics was for him a way of seeing and a way of thinking, inextricably embedded in his own being: “a deeply rooted mode of personal existence.”