Are you wondering how science will fare in the Trump administration? We reporters at Nature have got your backs — at least as far as covering the changes that are sure to come. My colleagues Sara Reardon (in DC) and Jeff Tollefson (in New York) are leading the Trump coverage, but I’ve thrown in an assist for a couple of stories. Jeff and I reported this month from the American Geophysical Union meeting, the world’s biggest gathering of earth scientists. Many are deeply concerned about the climate-change deniers Trump has nominated to key positions to oversee environmental policy. “It feels like a war on science, and on climate science in particular,” Alan Robock of Rutgers University told me. But who might President Trump eventually listen to for science advice? In this piece I dive into the history of the presidential science adviser — and find that the role has meant many different things to many different leaders over the years.
In addition to my usual work of reporting and writing magazine pieces, I also review science books for outlets such as the Dallas Morning News and Nature. This is a great gig because I get to read pre-publication copies of some of the smartest books out there.
Recently, a discussion group that I’m part of brought up Boyce Rensberger’s classic list of books every science writer should read. As Boyce notes, the list is far from comprehensive — and it started me thinking about some of the more intriguing modern science books I’ve come across recently. So, if you’re looking for a classic yet fresh science read (and you’ve already exhausted my own book, co-authored with my husband Jeff Kanipe), try one or more of these:
Anything by Deborah Blum (we all love The Poisoner’s Handbook, but her first, The Monkey Wars, remains a personal favorite)
By now you’ve probably heard of Planet Nine, the hypothesized super-Earth lurking in our solar system well past Pluto. But what you may not have heard is where the idea came from in the first place, and which teams are out there actively searching for such a world. For my latest Nature feature I tagged along on an observing run in Hawaii with Scott Sheppard and Chad Trujillo, who use some of the world’s largest telescopes to hunt for distant solar system objects. It was their 2012 discovery of a faraway world in the Kuiper belt — the part of the solar system that includes Pluto — that set off the current race for Planet Nine. Sheppard and Trujillo’s work shows that some Kuiper belt objects travel in extreme orbits that might — just might — have been shaped by the gravitational influence of an unseen super-Earth. Will we ever see a Planet Nine? Odds are against it. But we are sure to uncover weird and wonderful smaller worlds out there.
Sometimes, when you wait long enough, a story that you never thought would happen actually does materialize. I’ve written before about the decades-long search to find gravitational waves. So I was thrilled a few weeks ago to be able to cover the story of the first direct detection of these ripples in spacetime. Ahead of time we’d gotten notice of a big media announcement from the LIGO team, to be held at the National Press Club in Washington DC. I flew in from Colorado, my colleague Davide Castelvecchi flew in from London, and together we wrote a package of stories explaining what was discovered, how it was discovered, why it’s important, and how the next generation of astrophysicists will take things from here.
The Open Notebook is a terrific site that explains the the story behind the best science stories. You should check it out for their journalistic work (full disclosure: I’m on their board of advisors), but they have also featured me in their ongoing series A Day In The Life, which gives a behind-the-scenes peek at the daily work of science journalists.
You can check out the tale — including my favorite thing I ever stole from a hotel room in Iceland — here. (Pictured: on the north side of Eyjafjallajökull volcano, June 2012. Photo by Jeff Kanipe.)
Plans to build one of the world’s largest telescopes — the Thirty Meter Telescope slated for Maunakea, Hawaii — are mired in conflict. I traveled to Hilo, Waimea and Honolulu this summer to talk to a few of the many people who are deeply involved in the future of Maunakea. You can read the resulting Nature feature here. It profiles two Native Hawaiians and two astronomers, all of whom have unique perspectives on what should be done atop one of the world’s most significant mountains when culture and science collide. (Pictured is Alexis Acohido, who works at Gemini Observatory also on Maunakea; she is standing in front of the ‘Imiloa Astronomy Center in Hilo, whose mission is to honor both Hawaiian culture and science. Photo by Kent Nishimura.)
On July 14, 2015, NASA’s New Horizons spacecraft flew past Pluto. It was our first-ever encounter with the dwarf (and famously ex-ninth) planet. I’m not going to get into fights over planetary nomenclature, but wanted to flag a little of Nature‘s coverage of this historic event. It’s collected at our Flipboard site here.
I want to note a couple of personal favorites. First, a lot of people don’t appreciate how hard it is to fly to Pluto in the first place; I tackle the navigational challenges here. Then, 10 days before encounter, New Horizons temporarily and agonizingly lost contact with Earth; I wrote this story late on the Fourth of July, having read about the communications glitch on Twitter and left a fireworks display to write it up.
For those in need of a cheat sheet on what New Horizons actually did on July 14, see a graphics primer from Nature‘s ace art team here. Encounter day itself was a blur of coffee and adrenaline, reported from mission control at the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory in Laurel, Maryland. Helped by my incredibly competent editor Lauren Morello, and our ace staff photographer Chris Maddaloni, we put together a live-blog of the morning’s events as they unfolded. Images from New Horizons got bigger and more exciting as the hours went on, culminating in the famous ‘heart’ image of Pluto.
On 16 July I drove to the Baltimore airport to fly home. As I was walking down the aisle on the Southwest plane, looking to grab the next available seat, there sat Annette Tombaugh. Daughter of Clyde Tombaugh, the discoverer of Pluto. Yes, I grabbed the seat next to her. And yes, we talked for the whole flight.