So many of us, myself included, need to keep our sense of personal outrage in check. Each human beings position on the planet is one of intense humility.
We apply fight-or-flight reflexes not only to predators, but to data itself.
Although not initially of his own choosing, Michael Mann has been the most important, resilient, and outspoken warrior in the climate battle--responding to threats and persecution with courage and resolve every step of the way. Anyone who cares about the climate issue must read his fascinating--and enraging--story.
Even if individual researchers are prone to falling in love with their own theories, the broader process of peer review and institutionalized skepticism are designed to ensure that, eventually, the best ideas prevail.
Statements about climate trends must be based on, er, trends. Not individual events or occurrences. Weather is not climate, and anecdotes are not statistics.
I think that the world will continue trying to grapple with the climate problem, no matter who is U. S. president. But I think that, depending on who that president is, it can have a significant influence on the trajectory.
The obvious reductio ad absurdum is Holocaust deniers: Should their perspective be provided, for "balance," any time someone writes about the Holocaust?
So, what do you do when you know you have two days to live? Eat an entire Bitter Chocolate Death cake all by myself. Reread my favorite novel. Buy eight dozen roses from the best florist in town--the super expensive ones, the ones that smell like roses rather than merely looking like them--and put them all over my apartment. Take a good long look at everyone I love.
Once, in a dry season, I wrote in large letters across two pages of a notebook that innocence ends when one is stripped of the delusion that one likes oneself. Although now, some years later, I marvel that a mind on the outs with itself should have nonetheless made painstaking record of its every tremor, I recall with embarrassing clarity the flavor of those particular ashes. It was a matter of misplaced self-respect.
I seen her with the milkman, riding down the street. When you're through with my baby, milkman, send her home to me.
Washing one's hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral.