Finding his place
Halpern first got a taste of these unsavory changes early in his career at UCSB, after following a circuitous path toward his discipline. “Growing up in Oregon, the last place I ever thought I would be was Southern California, let alone Santa Barbara, which from Oregon looked like Southern California to me,” he says. He attended the small, liberal arts Carleton College in the Midwest, and followed that up with a stint in Boston — a job at MIT that had nothing to do with oceans, but gave him Friday afternoons “to go do something different.” He spent that extra time at the New England Aquarium, where he fell in love with the institution’s mission of education and conservation.
“They have this center tank that’s three stories tall and something like 50 feet wide, and it’s all a coral reef system. It’s this really amazing, inspired place,” he recalls. “I thought, ‘This is what I want to do. I want to be involved in places and in work that helps save the oceans.’”
With this plan in mind, a 24-year-old Halpern set out to apply to graduate schools, and UCSB’s marine biology graduate program popped up on his radar. It was one of the best in the country, and he was fortunate enough to get accepted to work at UCSB’s Department of Ecology, Evolution, and Marine Biology with coral reef ecologist Professor Robert Warner.
That was obviously the main motivation, he says, but what cinched the deal was that oh-so-California thing that gets everyone who visits Santa Barbara: the weather.
He went on to complete his doctoral work in 2003, then joined NCEAS as a research scientist. It was then a young institute, tasked with the brand-new mission of synthesizing a growing body of disparate, scattered ecological data in search of global patterns and big-picture insights.
“Some oceanographers and atmospheric scientists were trying to build global models of how processes work,” Halpern says. “But from an ecological and a human impacts line of inquiry, this idea of being able to ask things at a global scale was pretty new.” While ecologists around the world had mastered the techniques behind studying local and regional processes and relationships, they were still limited in their ability to examine the entire Earth as a complex series of interlocking ecologies. In bringing scientists and data from all over the world together and leveraging the power of the internet and data science, it was now possible to ask and answer the burning big-picture questions.
“Once you start being able to look at things at a global scale, all of a sudden your results become relevant to anyone on the planet,” he says. “The idea that you can pull back and see things on our whole planet at once is really both humbling and inspiring at the same time.”
The ocean’s voice
It was with this new perspective that Halpern and collaborators first tackled the question of human impacts on the ocean, taking everything into account, from greenhouse gases in the air to pollution runoff from the land to habitat degradation and overfishing in the waters. The results of the landmark study, published in 2008, were a shock to everyone: Almost half of the world’s oceans were heavily affected by human impacts, and very little, if any of it, was untouched by human activity.
Halpern and team were unprepared for the level of attention their paper would receive. Even before the Feb. 14, 2008, press conference at the annual American Association for the Advancement of Science meeting in Boston to announce their findings, they were bombarded with media requests from all over the world. During the meeting and for days after, they did interview after interview after interview for stories that filled the global news cycle.
“Friends in Africa were hearing the news story during a taxi ride,” Halpern recalled. “Friends in London saw it on the front page of a newspaper. It was just everywhere.”
The paper itself made a huge splash in scientific circles, garnering citation after citation — illustrating the hunger the ecological community had for this global perspective and providing a foundation for a slew of research papers to build upon. Hundreds of papers have cited that study each year since it was published, for a total of 8,177 citations and growing. The work helped put NCEAS on the map, and cemented Halpern’s reputation as a leader in the field.
Fast forward to today, and Halpern, who became the executive director of NCEAS in 2016, continues his work following the effects of global human activity. His projects have unlocked the often difficult-to-discern impacts of and relationships within the global food system; assessed the health of the world’s oceans; mapped areas of biodiversity; and studied the effectiveness of marine protected areas. His research has painted a picture of how we humans, collectively, impact the Earth’s ecological systems.
To fulfill NCEAS’s mission and extract insights and tease out large-scale patterns that can’t be seen from individual, local or regional studies, Halpern leans on the power of inclusion, creating an environment of collaboration, away from the siloed science that is often conducted at research institutions. “I’ve put a lot of effort into building a community that embraces all types of people and all types of thinking, and supports an open mindset approach to do this really powerful research,” he says.
NCEAS is a destination for ecologists and environmental scientists who want to get together, master the data and gain deep understanding of the big issues (and also visit Santa Barbara). In turn, working with NCEAS, the global community of environmental scientists has become more open, collaborative, interdisciplinary and synthetic, changing the culture and practice of environmental science. To bring the momentum of big data team science into the next generation, Halpern has launched AI for the Planet, an initiative that teaches scientists how to harness the power of artificial intelligence to drive insight, while learning how to use it responsibly.