More journals of opinion have come in over the electronic transom, and three of them feature cover stories on climate change — a sign, I suppose, that this issue is not going away, health care, unemployment and recession notwithstanding. For what it may be worth, both National Review and the Weekly Standard feature caricatures of Al Gore on their covers.
The Nation, for its part, features a cover story by Johann Hari of the London Independent on corporate funding and influence upon big environmental organizations, most notably the Sierra Club, Conservation International and The Nature Conservancy. “The green groups defend their behavior by saying they are improving the behavior of the corporations. But … the pressure often flows the other way: the addiction to corporate cash has changed the green groups at their core.” Of the three groups upon which he concentrates, Hari finds the Sierra Club to be the least corrupt. But even they are, in his judgment, too constrained by their estimate of what legislation can be passed through a compromised U.S. Senate.
As an alternative, Hari favors British-style “direct action,” which he argues has helped to block airport expansion and the construction of new coal-fired power plants in that country. Maybe so, but I wonder if any such campaign is capable of a transformation of the fossil-fuel-based economy at the “macro” level. The problem is that this issue invites skepticism — and the more stridency and direct action you engage in, the more skepticism you provoke.
The reason for this is reflected in this week’s “Beat the Devil” column in the Nation by Alexander Cockburn, who has become notorious as perhaps the most prominent climate-change skeptic on the left. Cockburn’s taking-off point was not climate change, but instead a February 28 column by Frank Rich on the tea-party movement and the crashing of a private plane into an Austin, Texas office building by an individual who harbored antigovernment sentiments. Cockburn found that the Rich column to reeked of an upper-middle-class stench, a class prejudice against the “petite bourgeoisie” represented by Joe Stack, perpetrator of the Austin incident. “The lower middle class is what we’re focusing on here, the people who own auto repair shops, bakeries, bicycle shops, plant stores, dry cleaners, fish stores and all the other small businesses across America…. Today’s left no longer believes in revolutionary change but despises the petite bourgeoisie out of inherited political disposition and class outlook. Ninety-five percent of all the firms in America hire fewer than ten people. There’s your petite bourgeoisie for you: not frightening, not terrifying and in fact quite indispensable.”
That sort of thinking apparently is what drives Cockburn’s reaction to the climate issue. “And the petit bourgeois are legitimately pissed off…. They’re three or four payrolls away from the edge of the cliff, and when they read about trillions in handouts for bankers, trillions in impending deficits, blueprints for green energy regs that will put them out of business, what they hear is the ocean surge pounding away at the bottom of that same cliff.” Cockburn objects to the atmospherics of a left movement dominated by “eggheads,” and, up to a point, I suppose his point is well taken. Such people are sure to dominate any “direct action” movement on climate change, and their foibles have been well-documented, along with their propensity to drive away individuals of lesser income and educational attainment. I just wonder whether this obviates further discussion of the climate issue on the merits. I suppose Cockburn’s larger point is that people like Johann Hari and James Hansen will not be able to get everything they want on climate — because a progressive movement dominated by upper-middle-class professionals is overextended on that issue and umpteen others. Its base is far short of the broad middle-class support needed for political success in a competitive system, especially one with the characteristics of the United States.
Looking at the right-of-center journals, it looks like there is some good reporting in the National Review cover story by staff reporter Stephen Spruiell, on Al Gore’s conflicts of interest. As far as I know, an environmental activist like Johann Hari would be happy to concede the point, as far as it goes. Gore is involved with venture-capital fund Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, which has investments in such “green-tech” firms as ethanol manufacturers Mascoma Corporation and Amyris Biotechnologies. There may be some place for biofuels, but it has been reported widely that Brazilian sugarcane and switchgrass would be a more economical source of ethanol than American corn. Ethanol is subsidized to the extent that it is, largely because the quadrennial American presidential campaigns begin in Iowa.
Less impressive in my judgment is the cover story by Steven Hayward in the latest issue of the Weekly Standard, which doesn’t appear to contain much new — just a summary of the points made in the public-relations campaign ongoing in right-of-center media for the past 90 to 120 days, ever since the “Climategate” revelations. There is, however, one sentence in the Hayward article to which I would like to call attention: “Harvard’s Jeffrey Sachs wrote in the Guardian that climate skeptics are akin to tobacco scientists—some of the same people, in fact, though he gave no names and offered no facts to establish such a claim.”
No names? I wonder whether he saw the piece in the December Foreign Policy by Annie Lowery, to which I have linked frequently. Lowery discussed briefly the case of the late physicist Frederick Seitz, who just before his death wrote an op-ed for the Wall Street Journal impugning climate researchers associated with the IPCC. Lowery: “Other scientists discredited Seitz by revealing he was on the payroll of tobacco companies while arguing against the carcinogenic effects of second-hand smoke.”
Climate-skeptical polemicists want to belittle the parallel between tobacco and climate, although I don’t know how it could be much clearer: In both cases, a PR campaign was waged with corporate funding, by individuals who by all appearances were at best indifferent to the facts at hand. Hayward calls it an “ad hominem argument” and a “sign of desperation” — which at least affords an opportunity for a brief discussion of the concept of ad hominem or “argument against the man.” You can learn in an undergraduate course in logic that an ad hominem argument is not necessarily invalid. It can, of course, amount to nothing but the swinging of a rhetorical brickbat — but it can also represent a legitimate appeal to a consideration of the character, temperament and motivations of the opponent. The most revealing thing about argument can be the character of the individuals to which it appeals….