I’ve been working for The Economist as a science correspondent for nearly two decades and contributed over half a million words to the newspaper during that time. Fascinated by the weird and often less well respected members of the animal kingdom, I’ve made a habit of writing about how these species make life better for humanity

In How Illuminating, I explored how the humble jellyfish made it possible for glowing proteins to track the behaviours of cancer cells. In Glue Bones, I described how the saliva of the sandcastle worm (which builds the structures that its name implies) made it possible for researchers to develop a glue that can hold bits of bone together in salty environments (like those found on bloody operating room tables). In Buzzing Without Being Buzzed, I explained why Oriental hornets are utterly immune to the toxic effects of alcohol and can guzzle the stuff all day long. Over the years, I have also written extensively for National Geographic, The New York Times, Scientific American, Nature and New Scientist.*  

Shortly after writing Time To See The Blight, a widely read lead story published in The Economist in 2019 that explored the interaction between plant diseases and climate change, I started collaborating with the United Nations Environmental Program to help the organisation better craft the executive summaries and speeches that it delivers at international meetings. Aware of the threat that climate change and biodiversity loss present to human health, I have continued that collaboration to the present day.   

Long intrigued by the ways in which ancient people tried to explain mysterious aspects of the natural world with mythology, I am the author of two books on the subject: Science of the Magical and Science of Monsters. I was awarded a Knight Fellowship in 2014 and used the opportunity to study immunology at MIT and folklore at Harvard.**

Myth and magic aside, while covering the very real chaos of the Covid-19 pandemic I found himself repeatedly baffled by scientists who had brilliant ideas for fighting the disease but who did not want their theories mentioned our of fear of upsetting colleagues or triggering debate. I respected these wishes, but the whole thing struck me as wildly counterproductive, what with people actually dying and all.

Curious if things in science have always been this way, I delved into history and discovered that, while the research realm was hardly operating as a well-oiled machine two hundred years ago, it was desperately in need of a tune up when Covid came along and is now on the verge of total breakdown after being given a few swift kicks by the US government. The result? My latest book, I Told You So! Scientists Who Were Ridiculed, Exiled and Imprisoned… For Being Right, a tale that jumps (often humorously) between the lives of scientists in both the Victorian and Covid eras and asks the question, “How can we do better?”

Outside of my writing and consulting work, I've collaborated extensively with TED to create educational animations about the boundary between myth and science. Together The Science Behind Homer’s Odyssey and The Scientific Origins of the Minotaur have been viewed over seven million times.  

When not at my desk, I make a good effort at meeting the grim reaper for an early tea on expeditions in far flung regions of the world. I've hacked my way through the Alaskan bush, fended off tiger snakes in the bogs of Tasmania, nearly fallen into a crevasse in Switzerland and got my scuba respirator hose snagged on the sunken wreck of a British minesweeper. I annually donate several weeks of my time each year to Scouting UK to teach young people how to survive in the wild.

*My personal favourite is How to Eat a Triceratops published in Nature.

**That’s right, I spent one year figuring out both how white blood cells work and whether a Minotaur could survive on a Mediterranean diet. Balance.