UPDATE: Science has a piece fully explaining this latest expulsion of academic science from the EPA. And Ars Technica discusses this with a bit of different context.
Some time ago, GG suggested that what many were taking as a “war on science” was more a war on particular parts of science, that the offenders were in fact exploiting science where it was financially remunerative and opposing it where it wasn’t. But actions at the Environmental Protection Agency really look like outright war on science, period.
Consider these actions:
- Reconstituting science panels to only have “committee members [who] will be financially independent from the agency.” Um, so experts who are interested in pollution and are supported by…who is left? maybe industry? If this isn’t the fox watching the henhouse, GG doesn’t know what is. Why would the EPA not use the science that it has paid for, or trust the scientists that it funded? EPA grants are to determine if something is a problem, or to find remedies for known problems; I don’t think there has ever been an RFP saying “We seek to pay somebody to justify a major government intervention in the private sector.” This is so brazenly obvious that it is hard to find a justification–except for those who feared something like this would happen when typical reappointments to advisory boards were not made.
- Preventing agency scientists from speaking at a conference [this is more old-school; banning various federal scientists from speaking has happened before–which doesn’t make it any less anti-science]
- Putting a political appointee in charge of RFPs and grant awards. Nothing says “science” like a stamp of approval from a politician who has advised staff that certain words beginning with the letter “c” are no longer allowed.
- Preventing grant money from going to areas that had representation in Congress oppose other administration legislation.
It is hard to look at these actions and see them as anything other than ostrich-like in trying to avoid hearing things some don’t want to hear. These kind of blanket rules seem designed to stifle scientific participation in any aspect of the EPA’s work.
This month marks the 30th anniversary of the Montreal protocol that started to phase out chemicals destroying the stratospheric ozone layer. This is widely and justifiably hailed as a major international success, as concentrations of these chemicals in the atmosphere have declined and ozone levels have stopped decreasing. A side benefit is that the CFCs and related compounds that have been discontinued are strong greenhouse gases, so Montreal is in a sense the first treaty to combat climate change. Of course, what everybody would like to see is a rebound in the ozone layer.
That such a rebound isn’t obvious is the subject of a review in Nature from about a week ago. While measuring the concentration of the destructive chemicals is straightforward as is the total amount of ozone in the atmosphere, what is less clear is what else is going on and how that is affecting the changes we’re seeing. Recovery of the ozone layer is expected to be slow in any case, and natural variability both spatially and temporally complicates any signal, especially in whole atmosphere ozone measurements. There are indications that stratospheric ozone is starting to increase, but the signal is still noisy. The review’s authors explore possibilities using constraints from observations and different modeling approaches to try to untangle things. While this shows a clear and strong success from Montreal’s restrictions, other elements are creeping into the equation. Basically, the changing climate is also impacting ozone, with its role gradually increasing relative to that of the destructive chlorine compounds. Warming of the troposphere and increased carbon dioxide and methane emissions leads to cooling of the stratosphere, which is good for ozone. But increased N2O emissions work the other way. And then the changes in the strength of atmospheric circulation mean that the recovery won’t be uniform–in fact, the authors suggest that the tropics could see a decrease in overall ozone even as global ozone levels rise, which would increase UV levels over a significant part of the inhabited globe.
What all this means is that something as heavily studied as the ozone layer is a product of complex interactions between relatively unfamiliar chemistry, appearances and disappearances of chemical species both from human and natural events, and the evolution of the atmospheric circulation. Montreal wasn’t the solution; it was a finger in the dike holding back a flood of consequences from using the atmosphere as a dumping ground. Dramatic ozone loss from CFCs was unanticipated because the peculiar chemistry in stratospheric clouds was unexpected. Fortunately that oversight was caught. What we need to recognize is that this part of earth’s atmosphere needs to be monitored closely as a changing level of greenhouse gases could introduce yet another unexpected surprise. Unfortunately, such ongoing research seems to be a target of the current U.S. administration. We might not be done plugging holes in this dike…it might be good to know where to next stick our finger in.
A couple of recent pieces, one an editorial in the New York Times and another at Vox, argue there is a “war on science” (to use the Times’s hackneyed phrase). First, let’s drop the “war” stuff. Ever since Fox News went on the “War on Christmas” path, that terminology is meaningless short of armed soldiers killing scientists.
But what we are seeing is incredible. From the disbanding of scientific review panels to the placement of political appointees in the grants cycle to the gagging of scientists employed by the government to the cessation of collections of scientific data to the elevation of a contrarian rear-guard to equal or greater levels of influence with overwhelming scientific consensus in making regulatory decisions, it is abundantly clear that the Trump administration, rather than simply ignoring science, intends to silence science. This is not bulldozing partisan opposition; this is overlooking reality. Given their outlook, we might expect DDT to return to store shelves next to leaded paint.
This is ignorant bullshit. But before all the conservatives get hot under the collar and the liberals give each other high-fives, keep in mind that this game is not being played solely by the right.
Here in Boulder there is a vast expanse of cropland under the control of the county. The purpose was to retain open space and maintain a rural barrier between Boulder and neighboring towns. Because the land is owned by the county, it can make rules about what happens when it leases the land to farmers. And one of those rules they’ve decided to implement–over the objections of the farmers working those lands–is to remove GMOs from county farmlands. As a five-part series of op-eds in the Daily Camera points out, this decision flies in the face of established science. One can spend hours reading the various letters to the editor, the position papers submitted to the Board of Supervisors, the various blog posts, etc. And it is almost as enlightening as the corners of the internet dedicated to showing that climate change isn’t real; GG earlier termed many of these kinds of arguments policy proxies: you use them as cudgels against actions you dislike (for instance, some GMO opponents seem to hate Monsanto as a corporate monstrosity; some GMO supporters point out that Whole Foods is a far bigger concern directly invested in the “organic = good” mindset; neither argument bears on the safety or efficacy of GMOs in agriculture). About the closest non-crop scientists can get to the science without going nuts might be the National Academy’s report from 2016. Which really doesn’t support wholesale dismissal of GMOs.
Now the county can do whatever it wants in this regard; there is no law saying that land management has to be scientifically defensible. It is less clear that such an argument can defend the EPA’s removal of scientific review panels, but the mindset that science is a tool to be employed as a partisan weapon seems to be growing more common. Instead of using scientific inquiry to resolve disputes that are grounded in reality, science is being selectively harvested to support one’s preexisting views.
Science is ideally a tool we use to avoid fooling ourselves. We have to be open to discovering we are wrong, which is one of the hardest things for many of us to admit. But those who would overturn scientific consensus have to recognize that you don’t overturn such consensus on the basis of a small amount of information. For instance, evolution is observationally confirmed by thousands up thousands of studies of faunal successions in rock strata. Finding a T-Rex tooth in a 10,000 year old human campfire isn’t going to overturn evolution. Anthropogenic climate change at this point is supported by so many observations in so many ways that the possibility that it is an artifact of some other misunderstanding is vanishingly small. GMO safety is well supported (but not to the degree climate change is; note this is not considering the economics of GMOs). There are many things we can act on now with a pretty solid assurance we won’t be mistaken; on other aspects, we should fund the science.
When making policy these days, it is incumbent on government to at least hear the scientific consensus and know where the edge of that consensus lies. For instance, global warming is caused by burning fossil fuels. Ice sheets will retreat, oceans are much warmer and more acidic, storms can be far wetter, droughts can be much drier, heat waves will be hotter are all so directly supported by simple physics, observation, and numerical simulation that all these can be acted upon without further inquiry. More difficult and unclear are things like the net precipitation budget over years-long time frames in regions of the U.S., the intensity of winter storms, or changes in the frequency of tornados; many such topics deserve continued inquiry.
But what we cannot do is simply pooh-pooh the science we don’t like. Or pretend it doesn’t exist.
View number one: The combatant. This is An Inconvenient Sequel. Increasingly angry man argues and cajoles and negotiates to reduce the magnitude of global warming.
View number two: The angry survivor. This is a narrator in Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140. The oceans have risen in two massive bursts caused by rapid ungrounding of major Antarctic glaciers, leaving New York a bizarre mesh of Venice and, well, New York. There is anger in how the elites survive as capital flies from the drowned coasts. Thomas Piketty and Al Gore meet together in a century to decry this future world.
View number three: The ostrich. “Now is not the time to discuss climate change” says our current EPA administrator. There is disaster on the move; let’s not discuss the cause or any means we have of reducing future disasters. Then there is disaster to survive, disaster to recover from, all preventing discussion of disasters to avoid. Somehow one doubts that the EPA is entirely focused on hurricane preparation; there is room for discussion. There is need for discussion. There is no need for dismissal and obfuscation, particularly from the head of the agency most directly charged with considering this problem.
And yet, look at what we have.
UPDATE 9/11. That view number three has caught the attention of a lot of commentators, for instance here at the New York Times, with the apropos statement “For scientists, drawing links between warming global temperatures and the ferocity of hurricanes is about as controversial as talking about geology after an earthquake.” And political cartoonists:
William Tweed’s Uncertain Path is essential reading for anybody interested in the national parks, wilderness areas, or the challenges of ecological change. Tweed, in framing his story around a backpack in 2006 along the John Muir and High Sierra trails, finds ample motivation for uncovering the many different facets of the twin jewels of parks and wilderness.
The book is a curious combination of travelogue, mea culpa, history and ecology. Tweed’s background working in the parks for decades, including a stint as chief planner for Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks, means he has skin in this game. In addition to the insights such familiarity provides, this also provides a driving motivation.
The mea culpa aspect is most interesting. Tweed left the park service in part because he felt key challenges were papered over by the promise of the organic act for the park service, a promise he had vocalized on many occasions: that the parks would be preserved unimpaired for future generations. No longer finding that promise possible, he left the parks to help steer them from the outside. It is clear that recognition haunts him still.
His hike leads yields observation after observation, some of small note (the presence of hot showers and a passing military jet) and others that build up (forest fires along the route lead to the revelation that climate change has increased fires even in remote wildernesses). As he passes features named for Muir and Pinchot, he reminds us of the rift between extractive and preservational uses of the land. Seeing horse parties and trail runners, he wonders about the changing mix and number of users. Seeing shrinking glaciers and ghost forests leads to worries about ongoing climate changes. Crossing from parks to forest wilderness and back leads to consideration of the difference between preserving for future generations and providing a “wild” experience.
At bottom, he argues that twenty-first century problems require a renegotiation with the American public. Parks solved the 19th century problem of resource development, and they could address internal problems in the 20th century like overuse. But climate change, fragmented habitats, pollution and invasive species demand a thoughtful change in management on how to accommodate change. The biologist would argue for a kind of interventionist approach, actively transplanting species to newly favorable climates, for instance. Were the author a biologist, this might end the book.
But Tweed was a ranger and planner; all those observations about human visitors and their desires comes into play. He is no Wilderness purist: Tweed argues that parks and wilderness will only survive as long as people will defend them and demanding purity can decrease the circle of defenders. Thus he worries about those using these lands as an outdoor gym, noting that the special protections for parks and wilderness are not necessary for such activities. But traditional users are declining. And so he argues that the parks also have to build support for any changes-and so he suspects the ideal ecological response is politically unwise.
His hike in 2006 preceded publication in 2010. Some of his worries have materialized: his notes on the poor health of the mixed conifer forest anticipated the massive die-offs the last few years from insects. Others have not: after a few years of flat attendance, numbers at Yosemite have skyrocketed-and backcountry use has grown rapidly as well. Does this mean nature has reacquired favor? Or is the glut of throughhikers really marking the victory of the outdoor gym rat? The answer is critical for plotting a path forward; we can hope for an updated edition someday.
The book is an easy read, flowing nicely despite the frequent diversions. For those of us familiar with these trails, his descriptions, while not memorably poetic, evoke these places clearly (hard for GG to say if non-visitors would be similarly charmed). An experienced backcountry traveller, Tweed doesn’t have the stories of grotesque overpacking, blisters, neophyte behaviors and calamity that fill many other backcountry accounts. Although Tweed does tend toward a solution of sorts to his worries, it is his struggle with history and science that makes the book far more than a policy polemic. Many backpackers will recognize moments and thoughts Tweed shares, though he then integrates them and shows a broader theme at work than most would discern. In a way, this is the complement to Wild-an intellectual reflection on wilderness instead of the emotional journey of the hiker. Highly recommended.
For those of us concerned about increasing CO2 values in the atmosphere (yes, we are about to crash 410 ppm), the recent decision of the Trump administration to back out of the Paris accord is disheartening. But it is worth looking at what has been going on for awhile to see that there is progress, much of which owes less to government action than to the power of the marketplace.
Let’s start with a recent milestone: 10% of electricity produced in the US in March was from wind + solar energy. That’s produced, not capacity. Now wind in particular is seasonal, so we’ll drop back down from that high, but compare that to the high from 2007, ten years ago, when it was only 1%.
This is excluding other non-CO2 sources of electrical power, such as nuclear energy, hydropower, and geothermal. Of the 97.4 quadrillion BTUs (or peta-BTUS, or PBTUs; equal to 2850 GWh) of primary energy consumed in 2016 (so not just electricity), 18.5 (or just a hair under 20%) came from all carbon-neutral sources of energy.
Going a decade back on primary energy consumed reveals some interesting changes–and lack of change. Total energy consumption was actually higher at 99.4 PBTUs, but carbon neutral was only 14.9 PBTUs (nearly all nuclear, biomass and hydroelectric, in decreasing order). One of the great accomplishments that goes unnoticed is that GDP in the US in constant 2009 dollars went from $14.5 trillion in Q1 2006 to $16.9 trillion in Q1 2017: a 17% increase while energy consumption overall dropped by 2%. That is huge, because if energy tracked GDP, the increase in renewables would have not even filled in the hole in increased consumption of energy. U.S. energy consumption has been flat or gently declining since 2000.
Of course you might say that the low-hanging fruit is picked, and there is reason to think that. Hydropower isn’t going anywhere forward in a big way, and decreased flow in important hydropower rivers like the Colorado bodes ill for the future. Nuclear remains stalled, and the impending retirement of a number of plants suggests the share of power from this source will decline. But there are optimistic trends, too.
P.S. 5/8/17: From a New York Times article on this (five members of the scientific review board have now been let go): “A spokesman for the E.P.A. administrator, Scott Pruitt, said he would consider replacing the academic scientists with representatives from industries whose pollution the agency is supposed to regulate, as part of the wide net it plans to cast.” While that might make sense for a policy-determining arm of the agency (a very debatable assertion), this is a scientific review board. The assertion that industry scientists are necessary to provide balance indicates ignorance on the part of the new administrator about how science should work.
When campaigning for the Presidency, Donald Trump responded to the question from the Science Debate 2016 site about scientific integrity, he (or his campaign) responded:
Science is science and facts are facts. My administration will ensure that there will be total transparency and accountability without political bias. The American people deserve this and I will make sure this is the culture of my administration.
When asked about regulation, he (or his campaign) said “Science will inform our decisions on what regulations to keep, rescind or add.”
Recent actions from the administration suggests this might not be the way science is used in determining policy. Right now the action is in the Environmental Protection Agency, where first, the budgets for the science advisory panels were nearly eliminated. Then, just before the March for Climate, the EPA’s webpages on climate science were taken down with a notice that the pages were down to be updated to for the new administration’s policy. Most of these webpages are in fact science pages, so their removal seems to reflect a political bias more than a policy update. Then, in the past couple of days, the science advisory boards that review the internal science within the EPA have seen many members fired despite an earlier communication that they were to continue.
When considered along with the HONEST act, this seems to go well beyond a policy change and suggests a desire to silence any external scientific input at the same time as internal scientific experts are replaced with more industry-compliant views. Maybe yo like that, maybe you don’t. Feel free to let your senator or representative know how you feel.