Click. You find a way to (illegally) download one of Karl’s publications, moving your hands slowly across the keyboard. A shallow sigh. The title is Barking foxes, Alopex lagopus: field experiments in individual recognition in a territorial mammal. In a territorial mammal? Is that even grammatically correct? It starts with an introduction, a hypothesis. Can Arctic foxes recognize the barks of their friends? After that comes the methodology; meticulously detailed descriptions about the procedure of recording, equipment, software, location. The result: graphs and diagrams with lines and waveforms. The foxes barked. Exactly how did they bark? Frequency, frequently. An interval of 30s. And at last: the Discussion, the conclusion.

• Three identical barks
• characterized
• as the wow-wow-wow call
• was played back
• through a portable two-channel amplifier

What strikes you first is a complete disregard of narrative tension. The conclusion at the end is so predictable, that it makes you believe that the whole story was written to prove a point that was already nailed. Yes, the foxes can recognize their friends!

“Is this fiction?” you ask, but nobody responds to your question, not even when you repeat it in German.