The response to dissent from scientists heavily invested in climate change orthodoxy was both predictable and disappointing. They mostly belittled and berated the heretics who put forth the contrarian views, along with the publishers who would allow such ideas to circulate. Professor Michael Mann, one of the leading voices sounding the climate change alarm, referred to the authors—equally distinguished academics for the most part—as “clowns.” A like-minded scientist, NASA’s Gavin Schmidt, was equally dismissive.
In contrast, remarks made by the authors themselves and prominent supporters in the scientific community were significantly more professional and, if not exactly friendly, far less insulting and dismissive. Sadly, that’s pretty much the way it is these days. If you aren’t completely on board the climate catastrophe bus, you’re an enemy and therefore deserving of insult and dismissal. But the opposite rarely happens. Skeptics such as Willie Soon, Roy Spence, and Judith Curry are genuinely nice people who spend the vast majority of their time in the arena of ideas talking about science and policy, not spewing ad hominem insults. Did you ever wonder why the difference?
We’re talking about the different approaches among the professionals, and all of the examples listed above certainly are professionals. We aren’t talking about the infinity of scrums that dominate digital media, where a lack of respect for contrary ideas and those who espouse them is required if one is to play the game. It’s entirely normal for professionals in the sciences to support differing theories. It isn’t normal for one professional to hurl gratuitous insults at another professional over legitimate points of discussion. So why do some scientists behave so boorishly so often?
One possible reason is that they don’t have a choice—not really. Like a lot of scientists, they appear to suffer from the myopia that often accompanies immersion in a particular field. The old saying that to a carpenter equipped only with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail applies here. If you’re a climate scientist who has spent a large part of your career and staked your reputation on the proposition that greenhouse gases have a disproportionate and calamitous effect on our planet’s climate trends, you may not tend to soberly consider an alternative hypothesis. Your knee-jerk reaction may be to discredit it as quickly and fiercely as possible.
Scientists, particularly very smart scientists, have monumental egos. As Frank Lloyd Wright famously observed, it’s hard to be humble when you know you’re great. So yes, I could see that ideal of decorum and respect we’re taught when pursuing a degree in the sciences flying out the window in this situation. One can practically hear the voice in our theoretical climatologist’s head: “I’ve been doing this research since forever, and a day and I know what I’m doing. No little snot of a [fill in your favorite non-climatology kind of scientist here] is going to tell me I’m wrong!”
If the combination of professional pride and intellectual snobbery provides the temptation to abandon professional courtesy, the influence of politicians and public relations (PR) experts often tip the balance. The petulant climatologist cries: “I’m right! And they’re wrong! I hate them!” Then the politicos and PR types wrap a soothing arm around the aggrieved, cooing: “Of course, you’re right, dear. You’re the expert. Pay no attention to them. They’re just jealous. And don’t engage them in discussion. That’s what they want, but you can’t do it. That would legitimize their silly arguments. Better to just make a clever remark and move on.”
Thus we live in this odd time during which some people have identified the ever-approaching (but never arriving) climate catastrophe as the most important issue of our time, but it’s an issue we aren’t supposed to discuss. We aren’t even supposed to try to understand it, at least not beyond the narrowly defined limits of knowledge set forth by the high priests of the theory.
And so, while many climatologists who preach climate catastrophe may be able to engage in a discussion with dissenting peers, they can’t. They can’t because they’re naturally disinclined to do so and because their handlers won’t let them. The relentless narrative is all that matters. There can be no discussion. And so they’re reduced to childish insults, meant not to engage in a dialogue but to avoid having to do so.
