Katrina Miller was in her final year of a seven-year Ph.D. program in physics when she thought journalism might be written in the stars for her.
When she began her degree, she thought she might become a researcher or even a tenured professor one day, like many graduates of her program at the University of Chicago.
“Somewhere along the way, I think I realized that I really loved learning, talking about and engaging with physics more than I did being on the front lines of research,” she said in an interview. “In the grunt work of it all, I was finding it hard to stay excited.”
While pursuing her Ph.D., she contributed to Wired Magazine and the University of Chicago’s website, covering physics. She developed a passion for reporting, and in 2022 she looked into the New York Times fellowship program for early-career journalists. On a whim, she assembled clips of her articles, wrote a cover letter and submitted an application.
She was accepted into the program about a month later, much to her surprise. As a fellow on the Science desk, Dr. Miller covered various topics, including the total solar eclipse across North America in April, China’s journey to the far side of the moon and a plastic with shape-shifting abilities.
After completing the yearlong fellowship, she joined The Times in June as a full-time reporter. Her beat is expansive, literally — it includes physical sciences, like the cosmos, space exploration and physics.
In a phone conversation from her home in Chicago, Dr. Miller shared how an academic background informed her reporting and her goals for future coverage. These are edited excerpts.
What made you fall in love with science?
I grew up in Phoenix in a single-parent household. It was just me, my mom and my brother. We were always in survival mode. I went to a very low-income public school, so I didn’t really have opportunities to go to space camp, for example.
When I look back, in retrospect, I think the signs were there. I was always drawn to math. But I never made the connection that astronomy or physics was something that one can study and pursue as a career, because I had never met an astrophysicist. The only scientist who I even could conceptualize was Einstein. How do I relate to someone like that as a Black girl? The interest was there; I just didn’t have the resources to really cultivate it.
Then I went to high school and had the opportunity to take a physics class. When I got to college and discovered astronomy during my freshman year, and then took physics during my sophomore year, I felt behind in a lot of ways compared with my peers.
How did your scientific training prepare you for a career in journalism?
As a scientist, you’re trained to form a hypothesis. You collect data, analyze the data and draw a conclusion. You then have to follow what the data says, whether your hypothesis was right or wrong. That sort of scientific method, I think, is very similar to the journalistic method, where you have an angle, you talk to people, you collect data and then synthesize your reporting notes and follow where the data is leading you, even if that means that your angle was incorrect.
How do you explain dense topics, like physical sciences, to readers?
As a journalist, you’re nothing without your sources. I discovered very early on that when I’m talking to scientists about their work, it really helps if they don’t know I have a Ph.D.
The reason I don’t disclose that is because I’m serving as a bridge between the general public and academic research. I want sources to speak to me in the way that they would address the broader public, someone who doesn’t have any physics or space knowledge beyond high school or what they saw at a planetarium.
You’ve interviewed many interesting figures in science, including Walter Massey and Ytasha Womack. Is there someone you hope to interview one day?
Nia Imara. She’s an astronomer at the University of California, Santa Cruz. She’s an artist. She does these gorgeous paintings. I think that there’s this outlook that scientists aren’t creative. Scientists are “left-brained,” and creativity is for the artists, actors and singers. But there are so many people I’ve met in the scientific community who are just so creative, and it extends beyond hobbies. It informs their research.
I was really glad to be able to write a profile of Walter Massey. That was probably the hardest piece I’ve ever written. I’d never really written an in-depth profile like that. I remember submitting my first draft to my editor, and he was like, “This is great, but it’s not a profile. You’re summarizing his life.” I realized I needed to follow this person around for a few days. I needed to notice the way that he laughs, his hand gestures, the books that are on his shelf, what his home looks like and how he interacts with people.
What are your goals for the future of your coverage?
Now that I’m here at The Times indefinitely, I’m thinking more long term — bigger projects, longer pieces. One of my New York Times bucket-list items is to contribute to The Times Magazine.
And just more in-person reporting. I want to go in the field and talk to people. For a lot of science coverage, you can just pick up the phone or interview over Zoom. I would love to see a rocket launch in person.
If you weren’t a science reporter, what beat would you choose?
If I wasn’t writing about science, and if I had the expertise to do so, I would probably be a theater or art critic. I’m a big theater buff. Chicago has a great theater scene. In another, parallel universe, I’m a culture writer.
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