Douglas Fox has spent much of the past 11 years writing about ice: how microscopic dust grains spawn high-altitude ice crystals that lead to rain, how the ice crystals that compose the rings of Saturn led scientists to discover a potential habitat for life deep inside one of Saturn’s moons, and the surprising role that ice may have played as a cradle for the origin of life on Earth 4 billion years ago.
But it was pure serendipity that piqued Doug’s interest in ice’s elemental opposite. While researching a story on climate change in 2015, he happened to speak with a wildfire scientist who told him how little we actually know about the inner workings of a flame.
Whether a single burning match or a roaring forest inferno, a fire’s essence is its rising column of hot, buoyant gases. The smoke plume that billows thousands of feet above a wildfire drives its intake of fresh oxygen and, ultimately, its dangerous behavior on the ground. Doug loved the idea of writing about the ephemeral and unexplored heart of a wildfire, in a story about nothing more than hot air. The topic may seem small and mundane from the outside yet turns out to be vast and expansive on the inside. Doug spent over a year working on his feature story “Firestorm” (High Country News, 3 April 2017), which won the Walter Sullivan Award.
His story traces the unlikely roots of our knowledge on extreme fire behavior, from the incendiary bombing raids of World War II to studies that were performed during the Cold War to predict the impact of nuclear explosions on American suburban neighborhoods. The story reveals the surprisingly destructive power of seemingly trivial forces: the condensation of water vapor exhaled from combustion, a physiologic trait shared by both humans and wildfires. Most important, his story illuminates an archetypal theme in science: how an invisible force, be it magnetism, radiation, or pathogenic microbes, finally became visible to humans for the first time. This story, in other words, helps us see the world in a brand-new light: the light of a burning flame.
—Brian Calvert, High Country News, Paonia, Colo.
Douglas Fox spent the first 8 years of his journalism career writing about biology before turning to Earth science in 2007, during a 7–week reporting trip to West Antarctica. He hadn’t been formally exposed to the Earth sciences, but that trip reawakened his old interests, nurtured as a youngster roaming the naked landscapes of Arizona, Colorado, and the Baja California Peninsula in Mexico.
Doug strives to spend time immersed with researchers in the field—whether on a ship at sea, in a tent on a polar ice sheet, or traversing the Basin and Range in the American West—gathering hundreds of pages of notes on the tiny, telling details that can bring a story to life: the cream cheese texture of deep–sea mud, the rotten–egg stench of petroleum in stone, or the way that a rock hammer serves as the sensory proboscis of a geologist. Doug often writes about things that seem mundane—dust or ice or precariously balanced rocks—but hidden in these minutiae, he somehow finds expansive stories that change how we see the world around us.
The feature for which Doug won the Walter Sullivan Award, “The Dust Detectives” (High Country News, 22 December 2014), grew out of an interest that germinated over a period of years. Doug first spent time with dust researchers in 2011, exploring the unseen biosphere of airborne microbes and their possible role in rainfall. He published a pair of stories with Discover and Science News for Students in 2012 but felt that there remained something larger to be explored: the connection between the microcosm of a single dust speck and the great, global commerce of these invisible particles that shapes our world.
With his painstakingly precise and thorough reporting and artist’s eye for detail, Doug performed a sort of journalistic alchemy. In his hands, dust is no longer the idle bits drifting in beams of light, but a powerful, almost magic–seeming force that shapes ecosystems in ways that scientists are just beginning to understand. Conveying the importance of microscopic and macroscopic worlds beyond our senses is no easy task, and yet Doug manages to bring it all into solid, intricate focus, enticing readers with a story that ranges from Kurt Vonnegut to the Silk Road and with vivid portraits of the far–off places that shape our own, including mountain ranges that themselves seem almost alive in their animation through geologic time.
—Jodi Peterson, High Country News, Paonia, Colo.