Dealing with tricky communities
How I made inroads ahead of a reporting trip to a complicated Alaska town
If you’ve followed this newsletter for a while, you know I’ve been reporting a story for many months now about deep-seated landslides in Alaska. It’s this huge, looming climate change impact that’s starting to get very real for people living in the Arctic, which is warming up to four times faster than the rest of the world. A combination of increased rain and snow (both intensity and frequency), thawing permafrost (which, when frozen, “glues” weak rock together) and retreating glaciers mean Alaska’s mountains are beginning to fall apart—with dire implications for the people who live below them.
As a science reporter, the characters I follow in my stories tend to be… scientists. Chemists, glaciologists, geologists, paleontologists. I like to get out into the field with them, follow them around. They can be funny, quirky, serious, (and almost always) deeply passionate about their niche areas of research. Covering them has its challenges, sure—getting them to talk about the big-picture/broad implications of their work, explaining the nuances in ways general audiences can understand, etc. But at least with Earth scientists, they nor their work tend to be very controversial/political (or at least, not until recently).
But for this landslides story to work, I needed to go beyond the researchers studying the hazard and the open scientific questions/mysteries they’re chipping away at. The science is a fascinating, key element, but the story needed to also get at the stakes—at the people actually affected by the hazard (and by the science) on the ground. And it turns out that can be a lot more controversial—and outside my wheelhouse.
I intended to visit Glacier View, a community of roughly 300 Alaskans scattered along the Matanuska river valley an hour or so outside of Anchorage. It’s an absolutely beautiful place—many residents have backyard views of the Matanuska Glacier (hence the name). But it’s also a pretty complicated, diverse place, especially politically. When scientists had first rolled into town and announced Glacier View’s mountains were full of creeping permafrost landslides that could collapse catastrophically, a pretty big debate broke out over whether the community should pursue more scientific research to accurately assess the hazard at all. There were (and still are) plenty of people who said no—worried about potential implications to property values and insurance rates.
I tend to think of research and data as inherently good. I was a little taken aback by these people who didn’t want to know what exactly they faced—how big the risk was. But I get it. If your house hasn’t been taken out by a landslide in a century, that sudden possibility seems a little crazy. And if a scientist says there’s now a 1 in 30 chance it happens in a given year and your insurance company decides to pull your coverage, that’s not great. And by going to Glacier View, I was involving myself in all this—what if my story, a feature in a major outlet, somehow tipped off the insurance industry to take a closer look at the town? I expected plenty of people wouldn’t see the benefit in talking with me. So, with several months ahead before my trip, I tried to put serious legwork into connecting with potential sources ahead of time and announcing my arrival.

After a couple of calls, one resident on the pro-science side offered to interview me on the local radio station, Big Cabbage Radio. I have no idea who/how many people heard the broadcast, but I really appreciated the chance to explain who I was, what my story was about, why I was coming to Glacier View and how people could get in touch and meet with me when I arrived. I’d never done something quite like this before—the radio interview let me make my case to residents as to why they should consider talking to me, all in conversation with the host, a trusted voice in the community. He suggested I get in touch with the local paper, The Glacier View Gazette, to put out an informational ad to viewers, which was helpful.
Most impactful, though, was having a local guide. The scientist at the heart of this story, a geologist named Hig, is also an Alaskan and has spent years traveling to communities like Glacier View. Early on in our conversations he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to accompany him into the community, since he’s still trying to build trust there. Eventually he came around to the idea, in part I think because I’d secured interviews on my own with a few key sources, like the head of the Bible camp in Glacier View and a few residents. Tagging along with Hig really opened doors—in a couple of cases, he explicitly vouched for me to residents who were unsure about going on the record, telling them he trusted me as a reporter (with a few nuanced stories about Alaska under my belt) and thought it could help the community to get the story out there. That’s usually the journalist’s job, but I think it was a lot more effective coming from Hig.
Looking back, I’m pretty happy with my trip to Glacier View. Following Hig in the field, we covered a lot of ground—visiting communities and research sites spread out of over hundreds of miles. We only had two days to spend in Glacier View proper. I had to make some hard decisions about where to go there. So I do have some regrets. By following Hig, I really only had the chance to interview pro-science residents and ones who’d come around to the science. I really wish I’d have been able to make it to the local lodge/coffee shop where locals gather on Wednesday mornings—I got the tip from several residents that would be the place to go to meet some folks more skeptical of the science. Several people I specifically reached out to for that perspective via email/phone didn’t respond to my requests. But skipping the coffee shop let me get to the Bible camp, where I landed a really fantastic interview I hadn’t expected to get. Before making that decision, I got on the phone with my editor, who affirmed my choice.

So, my biggest takeaways for dealing with tricky communities:
Start thinking of ways to make connections/build rapport well ahead of your trip (Phone calls, Zoom meetings).
Try to find unconventional ways of reaching your sources ahead of time by meeting them where they are—like via a radio interview or newspaper ad.
Get yourself a trusted local guide who can help introduce you to people who might be reluctant to be interviewed (and vouch for you).
It helps a lot to have a proven record of writing balanced stories about the place you’re going before you try for a more challenging community.
Before you travel, talk with your editor about communications—see if they’d be willing to jump on a phone call while you’re out in the field to help make difficult, time-sensitive decisions.
Do you have insights to add (they are welcome—I’m new to this!). Send a message or leave a comment on Substack:
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!
Reading list
What I’ve been reading and listening to recently (and you might be interested in too). As usual, a mix of meta stuff about science journalism and some just plain good long reads and features.
A Teen, a Reporter, and a Grand Jury Leak (Over BBQ) (Brian Reed, Question Everything)
I highly recommend Brian Reed’s (host of S-Town and The Trojan Horse Affair) newest podcast, Question Everything, a show about the moral complexities of journalism. Speaking of not always getting everything you want on a reporting trip, in this episode Reed travels to Alabama where two local journalists were arrested for reporting on secret documents they acquired legally. Absolutely no one is willing to talk to him—until on his last day reporting, he meets a teen in a BBQ joint who wants to be interviewed. That becomes the entire story.
Roundtable: How to Cover Science During Sociopolitical Disruption (Rachel Crowell, The Open Notebook)
TON has been putting out a lot of great pieces with guidance for journalists covering the science under the second Trump administration—who suddenly find their beat involving a lot more policy and politics than ever before.
How We Came To Know Earth (Quanta Magazine)
I absolutely love this ambitious package of stories from Quanta about how we’ve come to understand our home planet—through a series of pieces on climate science. A couple of highlights for me are Zack Savitsky’s piece on how far the goal of modeling our climate with computers has come and a story by Robin George Andrews comparing the greenhouse effect on Venus and Earth.
This is the best evidence yet for ancient life on Mars (Liz Landau, National Geographic)
Big planetary science news this week—after a year of trying, the world’s scientists have been unable to prove that rocks the Perseverance rover collected on Mars are not a potential biosignature. It’s the best evidence yet of ancient life there. And this piece is the first for Nat Geo for my former NASA colleague Liz Landau as a new editor for the magazine!
The Secret Lives of Dead Trees (Stephen Ornes, Scientific American)
I’m a sucker for tree stories and this is a lovely feature about a scientist who’s dedicated his career to studying how logs decay. The photography is really moody and great and I also love the companion video Sci Am produced for this piece.


