Red Hands and Climate Change

In past years, the time school lets out has usually been about the time cows are calving and fence needs fixing. This year, I completely missed the former and managed to avoid the latter (I don't like fixing fence). It's usually during one of those long fence fixing days that I first forget to put on sunscreen and end the day with a wicked sunburn that lasts a week or so: the proverbial "farmer's tan." After the burn, I usually just forget sunscreen after that; it never burns bad enough to hurt after the first time.

This year was different, and not only because I arrived late. It has been a cool and rainy spring, so much so that both branding and fencing were accomplished mostly in long-sleeved shirts and even coats. When I first arrived and moved cows, conditions were similar; the end of the day caught me red handed and in significant pain. The backs of my hands peeled and itched, but ended up way tanner than the rest of me until yesterday when we moved cows again while it was actually sunny and warm.

These sorts of conditions perpetuate certain features of local rhetoric surrounding climate change. Every day temperatures are below normal, people are either thinking or saying, "So much for global warming!" Many scientists and other people now substitute "global climate change" in lieu of "global warming," but part of the reason the old term doesn't die away is because global warming is easier to understand and easier to critique. Nuanced positions, once internalized, are harder to critique; simplistic summaries are quite different.

The other feature of rhetoric around climate change is its relationship to structures of faith and belief. Culturally, the discussion about climate change here has been framed as one of 'belief'; people who accept it do so as an act of faith, and people who do not often do so as what they believe to be an intrinsic aspect of their Christian faith (usually related to God's sovereignty or somesuch). Now, I have a lot more to say on the relationship between faith and science, but for now the following will suffice. In our scientific world where most fields have advanced beyond the ability of most laypeople to interpret and keep informed, there is a sense in which people must 'have faith' in those who know the data best. Linguistically, at least, that is a form of belief, taking someone at their word.

But framing the discussion as a matter of faith is not entirely acceptable. After all, the other side at least claims to be something much more than mere fancy. Is it ideological? Sure. But that doesn't make it any less objective. Cultural discussions of climate change must engage with those who are deepest in the field; without concrete reference to actual climate scientists, neither side can make legitimate claims. I'm not asking such scientists to present their data on primetime television, but neither do I expect a simple answer, necessarily.

At the broadest level, the debate is really about what is meant by a scientific
'consensus.' I just heard Rush Limbaugh say the other day that there is no significant scientific consensus that points to a worldwide, human-caused temperature increase. That's already a pretty nuanced denial, but the heart of it is the idea of consensus. How many scientists, or what percentage, constitute a consensus? Who counts as a scientist? What sorts of opinions constitute a "camp" that can be lumped together? I have never heard any of these questions addressed (at least by the (politically) 'conservative' side), though I admit my own exposure is pretty light.

Whatever happens, South Dakota is fine, I'm afraid. It will take many years before changing rain patterns would be able to cause long-term soil changes that could in turn affect the use of this sort of terrain. If the coasts flood, not all that many people will move to fly-over country. Agriculture, at least as practiced here, isn't really that significant a cause of the phenomenon (by anyone's accounting, I believe), so whether these people "believe" in it or not may not really matter.

Both sides have ideological commitments, but that should not prevent us from talking about real scientific data. We're grown ups; we can do our best, just give us a chance. I know that sounds like a contradiction of what I said at the outset. But I think we deserve the chance, at least. As the debate is framed right now, the data is to the scientists as the Bible was to the medieval clergy. Perhaps a reformation is needed to make the data accessible to a larger clientele...but we also know how successful the first Reformation was at clarifying debates about Scriptural data.

No conclusions tonight, I guess, except this: the debate about climate change is really one about broad cultural disagreements concerning scientific authority and the role of faith. Both have legitimate concerns that must be acknowledged for any cogent discussion of the matter. But that's not likely any time soon.