Twenty-five years ago in Northern California, where I grew up, climate change was unabashedly clear. Massive brush fires had become even more massive. I witnessed devastation first-hand. During my sophomore year of college, while home for the weekend, I watched my childhood burn to the ground. The entire neighborhood became ash and rubble. Because I saw, smelled, and touched the impact that climate change had on my family, my friends, and my town, I became fixated on the problem, and knew that my life would revolve around, and be dedicated to decoding, the weather.
While getting my doctorate in climate studies at Caltech I presented my first major paper at the United Nations. A postdoc at Duke was followed by a position at Stanford where I spent much of my time conducting climate research across the globe, primarily in Norway, Bangladesh, and Antarctica. After a steady flow of academic papers, I published a book that turned climate change theories upside down. I imagined a few people might read it, so I was shocked when it landed on the New York Times bestseller list, only to be further shocked, a year later, to wake up to a call from the MacArthur Foundation. I consider myself to be a very hard worker and very lucky.
While I was teaching at Stanford, the University of California offered me the directorship of an all-UC climate change institute. It was an incredible offer but I chose to come to UA Fairbanks instead because of its world-class research resources, top-notch research community, proximity to the front lines of climate change, and the opportunity to grow UA’s program in light of that proximity.
At UA, I oversee a joint venture among UA, government agencies, several Alaska Native corporations and tribal organizations, and industry. It took a bit to convince my partner, Rebecca, to make the move, since she would rather swallow hot coals than be cold, but once we arrived she fell in love with the abounding outdoor adventures, and stunning beauty, that comprise our weekends.
What’s been fascinating here is the way Alaskans don’t think of natural resource development and environmental stewardship as antagonistic. Here, environmental regeneration goes alongside economic development, because it must. My colleagues and I are working to export this “both/and” framework to other countries navigating a similar tension.
Currently my team is building the infrastructure for a large data center network across Northern Alaska, to collect, validate, and synthesize all climate change research that’s happening around the world—and in a way that will be open and accessible. While I haven’t been in Alaska long, I already enjoy bragging about the state’s unique qualities; my favorite academic event is UA’s renowned yearly climate change conference that, last year, brought people from over 120 countries.
At UA, collaboration is not just lip service. It’s the lifeblood of the academic enterprise. I’ve never encountered such institutional support for experts to work together while integrating students as well: in the lab, field, and classroom. UA is, without doubt, the go-to university for cross-disciplinary education. Students from the lower 48, particularly those interested in climate, are flocking here to study. Professors are looking to make the move as well, in no small part because UA has secured long-term and stable funding for all climate projects.
Clearly I’m excited to be here. It’s the best choice—professionally and personally—I could have made.