John Thompson (LN 1968-72) tells us about his life as a geologist.

As I went into my final term in 1972 living in Linacre House at King’s, my horizon began to expand from the next rugby match to university applications and a vague appreciation of the future. I enjoyed science and assumed that I would become a civil engineer, a concept that my supportive housemaster helped me understand. But when it came to pick my subject, I simply couldn’t select civil engineering. My eyes wandered down the long list of subjects and I ticked geology. This was not as random as it sounds. My father was an archaeologist and had some understanding of geology. I spent time with him on digs and the concept of the rocks beneath his sites, and their importance probably rubbed off on me. The idea of working outside, as my father did in the summer, appealed as did the possibility of going to remote places.

Much to my surprise, I was accepted to Oxford. As my first lecture started in the autumn of 1973, I knew I was in the right subject. The nature and history of the Earth, the character of rocks, and the stories they tell instantly fascinated me. I couldn’t believe my luck.

On graduation, my class dispersed to oil and gas – the North Sea, as well as to a wide variety of careers unrelated to geology. Neither of these options appealed, and I moved to Canada where I did an MSc and PhD in Earth science related to the concentration of economic minerals in the Earth – the world of mineral exploration, mining and the supply of critical minerals. When my formal education finally finished, I joined the mining industry carrying out exploration for nickel, copper, zinc, and gold in Australia. Over the next ten years, I lived in Australia, UK, USA and Canada and worked in over twenty other countries. I met amazing people, was exposed to indigenous and other diverse communities, and learnt more about the mysteries of the Earth.

In the 1990s, I left the industry to run a research group at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada, but returned to a Canadian mining company towards the end of the decade. Although still focused on understanding rocks and attempting to predict where metals of interest might be concentrated, I also embraced new technologies, sustainability related to extractive industries, and engagement with people and communities. Fourteen years ago, I shifted again, starting a new phase of my career working with exploration and technology start ups, venture capital and non-profits while still maintaining research interests in Earth science through positions at Cornell University and, most recently, the University of Bristol.  

A career that involved industry and academia, science and elements of social science, and technology and environmental management is unusual, far from anything I imagined during my final months at King’s. I became a generalist with wide interests related to the metals that we need for infrastructure, the energy transition, transportation and defence, and a profound belief that we must deliver these metals in the cleanest and most effective way possible with benefits for local communities and society. As I tell people, I am dangerously broad.

In spite of deviations, my passion for rocks and geology – Earth science – that hit me in my first undergraduate lecture remains intact. Our planet is remarkable in many ways, not least because it sustains life but also because it provides the food, materials, water and energy that humans need.

Rocks tell the story of the planet, and as an Earth scientist, I get to examine rocks from nano to planetary scales. I attempt to understand the rock-forming processes that have operated over billions of years, and I try to use this knowledge to discover concentrations of metals. I worry about current phenomena such as volcanic hazards, earthquakes and climate change, but also how we can exploit the Earth to meet human needs without damaging the environment.

I have lived the second half of my life on the west coast of Canada, a stunningly beautiful part of the world supported economically by natural resource industries, a juxtaposition that is difficult. For me, challenges between humans and the Earth are endlessly demanding and fascinating. Our future depends on what we do at this interface.

My life has been a wonderful and exciting ride that is anchored in the education I received as a young person, my family, and the extraordinary people that I have met on the way.

This article was published in the OKS Magazine (Spring 2026).