For frogs and family

My motivation for nature conservation was shaped by my grandfather, Anthony King, my namesake. He was my biggest supporter and best friend growing up — someone who not only encouraged my passion but became a co-conspirator in my exploration of the natural world.

He was a photographer in the early days of Las Vegas, transitioning from capturing iconic events like Elvis Presley’s wedding to nature landscapes after retirement. He saw my unique passion for animals and took me on his photography adventures in the Mojave Desert. There, I was free to run and interact with nature while he patiently set up his perfect shot.

I’ve been reflecting on my grandfather a lot, and I believe I can pinpoint a moment that shifted everything — not a dramatic “aha” moment, but one I almost took for granted. While exploring the desert, he snapped a photo of me wading in a lake, looking at tadpoles framed between leafless cottonwood trees. In that moment, we were completely at peace, connected with each other and nature. These moments with him laid the foundation of my character and now serve as my anchor to my family’s past and present.

I remember telling my grandfather about the tadpoles on the way home — what I saw as a paradox, because I thought they could not survive in the desert since there wasn’t much water around. Frogs, however, taught me that we often misunderstand what is “normal” or “natural.” For example, Darwin’s frogs: they not only get pregnant, but it’s the male’s role to hold the young in his throat (vocal sac) until they are ready to hop away on their own. I would have never guessed that frogs of any sex could get pregnant; I was taught that frogs spawned, left their embryos, and that was the end of their parental care. As I learned more about amphibians, I realized that there were no rules or exceptions – just diversity. 

I came to believe that looking into nature can humble us and challenge our arrogance about our place in the world. Nature reveals that what we consider “standard” is often just a perspective. Learning about wildlife can facilitate stewardship of nature and stimulate empathy and understanding within our own species.

As a kid, I continued learning through documentaries on public broadcasting (PBS) and, eventually, my formal education. Sometimes I miss the bliss of ignorance — that innocence that made me see the world simply. But I now know the plight of global biodiversity and see how little progress we’ve made in slowing the extinction crisis.

One of the biggest challenges in modern conservation is invasive species, and none have been more devastating than the amphibian chytrid fungus. Spread from the Korean Peninsula via the amphibian trade, chytrid now exists on every continent except Antarctica, causing a wildlife pandemic that has driven 90 species to extinction. Because it cannot be easily eradicated, chytrid’s ongoing impacts make suitable habitats uninhabitable for vulnerable species.

Many in the field have given up, viewing the problem as hopeless, but I see it differently. I believe we can solve this, but only if we focus on managing chytrid in the wild. This challenge has become my career’s focus, leading me to develop tangible, science-based approaches to conserve impacted species. Every conservation biologist dreams of seeing species recover, and I believe I am on the verge of making that dream a reality.

As I work, I think of my grandfather and my childhood. I hope I make him proud of the person I’ve become and what I strive for: a better world for future generations — one where they can connect with each other and nature.

• Institute of Environment and Sustainability
• Pritzker Award