Seeking a Way to Communicate: Journalist David Philipps Makes an Impact On Many

By Paloma Rudnicki '27

David Philipps, a 2-time Pulitzer Prize-winning military reporter for the New York Times, has spent his career discovering untold stories that help bring issues to light that make a change in the lives of people serving our country. In this interview, he explains what drives him to write, how he experimented to find his path, and how passions can become careers.

Q: How did you come into journalism as a career, and into writing about the military?

A: I didn't know that I wanted to be a journalist; I just knew I loved writing. When I was in high school, I would write for the newspaper, I would write for our little quarterly literary magazine, I would write for anyone who would take me. I just liked that I could learn about things, carefully frame them, and tell a story through writing in a way that I couldn't in casual conversation. I knew I wanted to write cool nonfiction that read like fiction, so I was like, ‘Oh, I could become a journalist and just start writing for a living tomorrow.’

You know, at your local newspaper, you don't have to be Ernest Hemingway to write something and have it published. It could be like B-minus writing! I started working for my hometown paper, which is the Colorado Springs Gazette. It was like being in a batting cage for writing. Every day, I'd write one story, maybe two, and the next day, it would be in the paper, and you'd get people calling you up who loved it or hated it or were pointing out what you got wrong, and it was just like a really great way to learn. 

What happened that changed me and put me on the direction of writing about the military was the Iraq War. In Colorado Springs, we have five different military bases, and one of them is a huge Army base called Fort Carson. And Fort Carson was sending probably 30,000 troops a year over to Iraq, and they'd be there for a year, and then they'd come back, and they'd probably then go back in a year, and they'd then come back home, and then go back—and it was really hard on those people. And I was looking at all the coverage of the war in Iraq, and it was one of two things: people sitting in Washington talking to leaders, or people in Iraq talking about what was getting blown up. But there was no one I could really see who was writing about any of the folks that did the work, going back and forth, and how they were being affected. I was like, ‘Geez, I know some of these people personally, and this just seems really important, and we don't understand it at all.’ I just started writing about it in ways that really showed how the war experience that these folks were having was really ruining their lives. I thought I liked writing, but what I really like is trying to understand something well enough and express it clearly enough that you can make things better.

Living in Colorado Springs, when I go to the grocery store, there might be a young infantry sergeant there buying his groceries. Or if I go to drop off my kids at school, there might be a young fighter pilot who's dropping off her kids at school. And it keeps me grounded and lets me mix with the people that I write about and understand them. I still feel like nobody's writing about the stuff I'm writing about, and I can find places where I can make a real, immediate impact and make people's lives better. If you don't have something deeper down that's going to keep you doing it, you'll just go do something else. I think the people who keep doing it have got some deeper motivation. 

Q: A lot of the stories that you write are very secretive, covert, and classified. What are some of the biggest challenges in getting that basic information?

A: I think I do that stuff because it's hard. If something's easy, I'm just like, ‘Well, geez, what's the point? Someone else will just do it. Someone's going to write about what the president said today, I don't have to do that.’ But I like challenge.

Along the path of trying to find a full and accurate picture, most of the doors that I knock on are gonna slam in my face, especially when you're gonna try to find out about something that's classified. I always joke with people that, when you're writing about the military, maybe three out of four people don't want to talk to you. When you go into writing about special operations, it's more like nine out of 10, and when you go into the really secret parts of special operations, it's like 19 out of 20.

You have to sort of start thinking about things from their perspective. Like, what's in it for them? Why would they help you? For example, fighter pilots in the Navy don't want to talk to me or any reporter. But, if in one year's time, three of their friends die of suicide, and I called them up and said, ‘Hey, I learned about these deaths, and there's something going on with the safety of flying these planes. If we can lay this out really clearly and show that people are getting hurt, we can prevent other people from being hurt.’ They volunteer to do something for the greater good. So if I then come in and say, ‘Will you help me do something for the greater good?’ a lot of them will say yes. 

There are probably more pilots who said to me, ‘No, I don't want to talk to you,’ than did. But if you keep knocking on doors and you have a message that will resonate with certain people, it'll work. 

Q: Would you say that forming relationships with people is important when writing articles?

A: To use a Santa Barbara type of analogy: when you go down to the beach and you see the surfers out there, 90% of the time they're out there, they're not actually surfing, they're just sitting on their board waiting for the right wave. But, they know what time to be there and what spot to be in and how far off the coast it is, and then it's just a matter of waiting until the right opportunity comes for the right wave. And it's sort of the same in writing, you know? You learn the places, you learn the language, you learn the things that are important, and you learn relationships. 

I think there's like a Hollywood idea that being an investigative reporter is someone calls you and they're like, "Hey, meet me in this parking garage at midnight." And then you meet them there, and they give you all the goods, and then you go back to the newsroom and type it up, and it's a story. And that almost never happens. It's someone who comes to you and they're like, ‘Well, I have something that's one-fifth of the goods. And I think it means this.’ But you, as the reporter, you’re like, ‘Okay, I think it means something totally different, but if I can get the other four-fifths and put this together, we really got something.’ You sort of learn how to do it, so when a tip does come in, you really make sure you're in the right spot to surf it. 

Q: Do you have any general advice for high schoolers who are interested in the path of journalism or writing? 

A: First of all, writing and journalism doesn't have to fit into your preconceived notions of what it is. What people are doing when they're really inquisitive and effective with social media can be journalism. If you're documenting, if you're learning, if you're explaining, that's great. If it's what you want to do, don't wait until somebody gives you permission or some title or something to do it. Just go do it. Look for opportunities to write about whatever you can, tell those stories in the way that's meaningful and impactful to you, and then really connect with the stories that you think are meaningful.

Journalism is not art, it's a craft. If you think that the way somebody did an article is really great, and you want to do something on your own, sort of emulate some of their approaches. I've been writing every day for 25 years, and I still am like, ‘Oh, that was a good story. What about the story was so good? Could I use this in my story? Oh, I love that graphic that person used. I'm going to try something like that.’ I do that constantly, and there are people I work with where I’m just in awe of how cool their stuff is, and I still feel like I can really learn from them. The fun part is figuring stuff out and trying new stuff. I could even write the same story I won the Pulitzer Prize for, but if you made me do it again, I'd be like, ‘Yeah, but what's the point? I already did it. Let's find something else and try in a new way.’ And that makes things fun and interesting. Trust me, there's a lot of pounding your head against the wall, too. But I wouldn't trade it. I love what I do, and I hope that it's made the world a better place.