The email that landed in my inbox on June 14 was bleak. “I killed it,” wrote Dan Koeppel. He was referring to a Rare Bird Alert hotline in Colorado. Koeppel was exaggerating, but only a little; by pointing out the mere existence of this relic, he had caused its demise. One of journalism’s prime directives, he noted, is not to get involved in the story—to report, rather than make, the news—and so he felt he owed an apology to Rocky Mountain birders (who perhaps didn’t realize that their Rare Bird Alert still existed). The story Koeppel was writing is a bittersweet one. He started out with a central question: How many Rare Bird Alert hotlines are left? The number dwindled as his reporting progressed, but he also discovered a happy surprise, a line thriving in an unexpected community. His first question also led to another. How much value do Rare Bird Alerts—and, by extension, birders’ focus on rarities—have today? Often, writers strive to answer a question when...