Most of the foreign correspondents I have met along life's trail have been hooked on their jobs. They know why they should give it up, but they keep going back.

Paul Salopek is no exception. Last weekend at Colby College in Maine, he received the Elijah Parish Lovejoy Award for courage in journalism. He won two Pulitzer Prizes as a reporter for the Chicago Tribune, but what drew him to the attention of the Lovejoy selection committee, on which I serve, was his capture in 2006 by pro-government militia in Darfur.

"The government in Khartoum charged us with espionage, spreading 'false news' and entering Africa's latest killing field without a visa," Salopek wrote shortly after his release. "It was hard not to feel, however, that our real crime was unspoken: reporting on a humanitarian catastrophe that is largely invisible to the outside world."

Salopek's work is an inspiring example of the dedication it takes to report from the world's trouble spots. But his presence at Colby was also a sobering reminder of

the declining number of foreign correspondents who roam the world on the payroll of America's metropolitan newspapers.

The numbers are hard to pin down, but many metros have closed all their foreign bureaus. As newspaper revenue sinks, the decision is an easy one. The top priority is news close to home. Foreign coverage is expensive, and readers who want it can find it elsewhere - or at least that is the rationalization.

As logical as this is from a business standpoint, the country is the poorer for it.

American newspaper correspondents bring tools to covering the world that no one else has. Their mission is to dig for the truth, wherever that digging leads. Unlike journalists inside many countries, they have no personal interest in the outcome. If they are as good and experienced as Paul Salopek, they can turn difficult issues into stirring human narratives. They show their readers what is really happening and why it is important.

The timing of the loss in original foreign reporting in newspapers couldn't be worse. The United States is growing more and more diverse, with many of its newest citizens retaining ties to remote parts of the world. The world has shrunk while the U.S. role in it has become more complex. The nation's economy has grown increasingly dependent on the rest of the world.

No one is suggesting that there is no foreign news available. When a tsunami hits or a foreign government topples, you'll find the breaking news in newspapers, on television and on the internet. What the public is losing as correspondent jobs disappear is the ability to understand and anticipate world-changing events.

"Whether we're paying attention or not, the developing world is where our future is being scripted," Salopek said during his acceptance speech at Colby.

Salopek grew up in Mexico. He has focused his reporting on los del abajo - literally "those from down below." This includes about 4 billion people, almost all of whom live in the subtropics just above and below the equator, he said. Most of them earn less than $10 a day; more than 2 billion get by on $2 a day.

Salopek described their world as one of "countless villages and exploding mega-cities," of "callous governments and weak public institutions, but also of strong, seemingly indestructible families." While injustice, social upheaval and war are common, so are "fantastic dancing" and other joys.

"What I never remind my readers enough is just that: how places like Africa, where I usually live these days, are the happiest places I know," he said.

In Sudan, Salopek was held for five weeks, some of it in a ghost house, a clandestine prison so named because people disappear from them. He was questioned, beaten and threatened, but he continued to stand up for the driver and the interpreter who were captured with him. In the end, negotiations and the intervention of New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson secured a pardon for all three of them.

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