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A climate scientist criticized his own study. Is he a hero or a villain?

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Tuesday, October 1, 2024

When a climate scientist’s inbox is flooded with requests to appear on Fox News, it’s a fairly clear sign they’ve done something controversial. For Patrick Brown, the moment arrived a year ago, mere hours after his essay titled “I Left Out the Full Truth to Get My Climate Change Paper Published” landed on the internet. “I’m reaching out to invite you to our show tomorrow to discuss how the media’s obsession with global warming manipulates the truth about wildfires,” a booking producer for the morning show Fox & Friends First wrote to Brown on September 5, 2023, proposing a five-minute video interview at 5:20 a.m. the next day. Brown was torn. Here was a chance, his wife urged him, to reach a new, national audience with his message: that “climate change is real and is important, but it’s not everything.” (It was an audience that would be, for a change, skeptical about the first half of that statement instead of the second.) Yet Brown was overwhelmed by the attention his piece was drawing and worried he wouldn’t be able to redirect the conversation away from anti-science talking points in such a short interview. “I felt like I would become too bullied into making this argument that climate change is all a hoax,” he said. The drama had been set in motion one week earlier, when Nature, arguably the most prestigious scientific journal in the world, published a study Brown co-authored showing that climate change had increased the risk of explosive wildfires in California by 25 percent. When the paper came out at the end of August, colleagues congratulated him, and the research was covered by NPR, The Los Angeles Times, and other media outlets. “You’re treated like this just very, very important person, with super interesting things to say,” Brown said. “‘Thank you so much, Dr. Brown’ — you know, that type of thing.” Then, a week later, Brown shocked many of his colleagues by criticizing his own study in his essay in The Free Press, an outlet that seeks to cover news stories “that are ignored or misconstrued in the service of an ideological narrative.” Brown wrote that he had tailored the wildfire study to fit what high-impact journals seemed to want, with a single-minded focus on communicating the disastrous consequences of climate change. “The editors of these journals have made it abundantly clear, both by what they publish and what they reject, that they want climate papers that support certain preapproved narratives,” he wrote. This instinct, he said, came at the expense of more complex, solutions-oriented studies about, say, managing forests to reduce the risk of extreme fires.  He stood by his study’s finding that global warming contributes to wildfires — “Make no mistake: That influence is very real,” he wrote — but argued that its narrow focus was part of a broader problem. “To put it bluntly,” he wrote, “climate science has become less about understanding the complexities of the world and more about serving as a kind of Cassandra, urgently warning the public about the dangers of climate change. However understandable this instinct may be, it distorts a great deal of climate science research, misinforms the public, and most importantly, makes practical solutions more difficult to achieve.” Brown declined the Fox News interviews, but that didn’t stop many right-wing news outlets from seizing on the idea that scientists were somehow messing with climate data. “Climate change expert overhyped his findings,” read one headline, on the front page of the U.K.’s Daily Telegraph. Meanwhile, left-of-center news sources quickly passed the mic to Brown’s detractors. “Fact check: Scientists pour cold water on claims of ‘journal bias’ by author of wildfires study,” read the headline on the website Carbon Brief. For several days, anyone who followed the conversation about climate change on X, formerly Twitter, couldn’t open the app without coming across attacks on Brown.  “The really sort of pitchfork reaction to Patrick’s essay took him by surprise,” said Alex Trembath, the deputy director of the think tank The Breakthrough Institute, where Brown co-directs the climate and energy team. Headlines show reactions from the press following the publication of Brown’s essay. Grist Although science clearly demonstrates that climate change is real and worsening, there’s still a muddiness around exactly how much it drives the floods, fires, and other impacts seen around the world today, compared to other factors. Covering cities in impermeable pavement, or stifling fires and letting forests overgrow, plays a role in how bad these disasters become. In blog posts, talks, and on social media, Brown examines these murky details, calling out oversimplification when he sees it, even if doing so might distract from what many colleagues see as the central task of stabilizing the Earth’s climate. Brown’s choice — to embrace the gray over the green, so to speak — doesn’t make him popular with those who see a moral imperative to ditch fossil fuels as fast as possible. From their perspective, you could make the case that Brown is a disgruntled academic who’s undermining the public will to reduce emissions by alleging there’s bias in climate science and challenging the focus on catastrophe. From another, you could argue that he’s on a mission to make science more honest, informing the public about how humans might adapt to a hotter planet. So is Brown a villain, a hero, or something more complicated?  The villain The way a person characterizes the commotion that followed Brown’s essay starts with what to call it. The climate scientist Zeke Hausfather, for example, suggested it could be called “a series of unfortunate events,” a nod to the children’s books by Lemony Snicket. Sitting next to Brown at dinner during a Breakthrough Institute conference in June, I fumbled for words to ask a question about “the Nature incident.”  “We call it ‘the hullabaloo,’” Brown replied with a half-cocked smile.  At some point, in my head, I dubbed it “the Brown affair,” a reference to an episode from 1996, in which the physicist Alan Sokal submitted “an article liberally salted with nonsense” to a cultural studies journal. Sokal’s paper suggested that physical reality was “a social and linguistic construct” and put forth a bizarre theory about quantum gravity, claiming that it provided “powerful intellectual support for the progressive political project.” Sokal bet correctly that the journal would publish his word salad if “a) it sounded good and b) it flattered the editors’ ideological preconceptions.”  An article about the Sokal affair appeared on the front page of the New York Times on May 18, 1996. The New York Times Archives Sokal revealed the hoax in an essay in the magazine Lingua Franca a few weeks after the article was published, explaining that his intention was to highlight “sloppy thinking” among the academic left, who he thought were drifting away from objective reality. Sokal’s hoax made the front page of The New York Times and traveled as far as Le Monde in France, and decades later, the ethics of his experiment are still being debated. “In retrospect, I now see that I underestimated the interest of the general public in intellectual questions,” Sokal reflected in the 2008 book Beyond the Hoax.  This is the version of Brown, the villain: a Sokal 2.0, a prankster with suspicious ethics who’s providing fuel for oil companies, the far right, and the rest of the climate disinformation machine.  It’s a comparison made by Max Boykoff, a professor of environmental studies at the University of Colorado Boulder, who teaches the Sokal affair in his classes. Brown “deliberately appeared to have used some of the systems that we use in good faith — of peer review, of publishing — and manipulated that system,” Boykoff said.  One of Brown’s coauthors said he was blindsided by the about-face. “Patrick’s critique of our paper came as a surprise to me, and I don’t share his cynicism regarding Nature’s editorial bias,” Steven J. Davis, a professor of Earth system science at Stanford University, wrote in an email. Unlike Sokal, Brown says he didn’t make a premeditated decision to try to undermine a journal’s credibility. He decided to write the essay in June last year, a month after Nature had already provisionally accepted the paper he’d been working on for years.  Still, Magdalena Skipper, Nature’s editor-in-chief, said in a statement that Brown’s essay revealed that his study published the week before reflected “poor research practices and are not in line with the standards we set for our journal.” To counter the argument that journal editors preferred alarming studies about climate change, Skipper pointed to recent papers that found marine heat waves don’t generally hurt bottom-dwelling fish, and that found the top factor in the decline of the Amazon’s carbon sink wasn’t climate change, but less law enforcement. Skipper said studies that countered the consensus were actually “of special interest to us.” She also suggested that the peer reviewers of Brown’s paper had told him to account for the other variables he said were important, such as vegetation and fire management. (Brown wrote a long FAQ-style piece arguing that his critics took the peer review comments out of context, misrepresenting what the reviewers meant.)  Some commentators made the case that Brown had made much ado for little reason. In an extensive interview for the climate news site Heatmap, the journalist Robinson Meyer badgered Brown about whether he actually molded his paper to focus on climate change because of Nature’s “preferred narrative,” or because it was simply the easiest approach to a knotty research problem.  “Brown seems to have talked himself into the view that he did something wrong, but it’s not clear to me that he actually did,” Meyer wrote. Brown is no climate denier, yet his critique of Nature mirrored the most common type of climate misinformation — attacks on scientists and the processes of science, said John Cook, a researcher at the Melbourne Centre for Behaviour Change in Australia. As a result, right-leaning sites easily used Brown’s essay to feed a narrative that climate research was being “censored” to fit the demands of “woke editors.” Fox News picked quotes from Brown’s piece and combined them with Republican talking points that Democrats are overplaying the role of climate change. “Patrick Brown is saying the quiet part out loud — liberals are cherry-picking data to fit an agenda and push radical policies that drive up the cost of living,” California Assembly Republican leader James Gallagher told Fox News Digital. “Climate change is Democrats’ excuse to avoid blame for turning our forests into tinderboxes.” The hero Brown’s writing might come across as confrontational, but in person, he’s nice — Midwest nice, with the kind of modest, polite, socially guarded demeanor I instantly recognize, being from the Midwest myself. Alex Trembath — another Midwest-raised member of the Breakthrough Institute — was effusive in his description of Brown’s pleasantness. “He has just been just an absolute joy to work with,” Trembath said. “He’s a kind, humble, sort of empathetic guy.” About a month after I first contacted Brown, I asked if he’d let me review his private correspondence related to the Nature incident. It’s safe to say most people don’t want to turn over the contents of their email inbox to a nosy journalist. But Brown not only complied with my requests (“Sure, I’d be happy to share emails/reactions,” he quickly responded), he also supplied me with a dozen screenshots of relevant messages that I hadn’t even asked for. These private messages show many scientists didn’t just think Brown was right — they saw him as a role model. “It takes a lot of guts to do what you did, and you’re advancing science,” read an email from a researcher at the University of Sussex. “I have not, in my lifetime in academia, seen anyone braver or stronger,” wrote a scientist at Swinburne University. “Well done for taking a courageous (and possibly career-damaging) stand to defend the standards of research integrity,” a physicist wrote. A former colleague from Stanford sent his support, saying, “You have always been one of the people that I want to be most.” Private emails sent to Patrick Brown show support from other researchers. Grist / Courtesy of Patrick Brown Any “hero” story starts with an origin story, and Brown’s begins in Minnetonka, Minnesota, on the outskirts of Minneapolis, where an average of 53 inches of snow falls per year, and tornado season typically lasts from May to September. As a weather-obsessed 10-year-old, Brown probably could have told you facts like those. By that point, in the mid-1990s, he had already written his first weather newsletter (recently unearthed at his mom’s house) explaining how warm and cold fronts cause unstable weather. After going to the University of Wisconsin to pursue his dream of becoming a meteorologist, Brown found that the actual work of making weather maps for newspapers wasn’t what he wanted. “It was this terrible assembly line job, actually, where you had to draw like 20 different maps in a day, just going as fast as you could on Adobe Illustrator, eating lunch at your desk,” he said. So Brown headed to San Jose State University for his master’s degree to do climate research instead. He says his background in meteorology gives him a different point of view: Whereas those who come from an environmental science background may view humans ruining nature as the problem, meteorologists tend to see the weather as a threat to people’s safety. When Brown started teaching classes as a master’s student, he was surprised to find the science on climate impacts in the textbooks was thinner than he’d expected. He was initially motivated to “beef that up,” to show his class how severe the weather changes were. But the more he looked into it, the more he found that what he had assumed were dramatic changes were “very small, very subtle, very uncertain.” He began seeing a disconnect between what the science showed and how it got communicated. After finishing a Ph.D. at Duke, Brown joined Ken Caldeira’s lab at Stanford for his postdoctoral research, to examine how the climate system interacts with the world we’ve built. Caldeira, now an emeritus scientist with Carnegie Science, said that Brown was “one of the best and most productive postdocs that have ever been in my group during my entire career.” He described Brown as a bit of a lone wolf, someone who “tends to sit in front of his laptop and grind away at his work.” Brown published his first paper in Nature with Caldeira in 2017, showing that the most alarming climate models tended to be the most accurate. Brown landed a tenure-track job as an assistant professor back at San Jose State in 2019, but he became uncomfortable with what he had come to see as the clearest path to success: mining data to show the negative effects of climate change. Wanting more freedom, Brown joined the Breakthrough Institute in 2022, a Bay Area think tank dubbed by the San Francisco Chronicle as “the most controversial climate nonprofit you’ve never heard of.” It’s a safe place for people with unpopular ideas, known for advocating for nuclear power. “You don’t come to work at the Breakthrough Institute without an understanding that we exist to challenge what we believe to be stuck debates in environmentalism, in energy and climate policy, and beyond,” Trembath said. Freed from the restrictions of academic publishing, Brown began writing opinionated pieces on the Breakthrough Institute’s site — critiques of how “science says” has been used as a “bludgeon” in policy debates on matters that science can’t really speak to, or how scientists tend to communicate climate change’s contribution to weather extremes like heat waves in the most dramatic way, even if it’s a little misleading.  Brown started pointing out what he saw as biases in the publication process, and it slowly dawned on him that he might be contributing to the problem. “I was criticizing these other papers,” he said. “And I felt like, in order to really make this point, what I need to do is stop being a hypocrite and just criticize my own paper.”  Brown didn’t particularly want to run the resulting piece in The Free Press, a media company founded by Bari Weiss, a journalist who resigned from The New York Times opinion desk in 2020 over the newspaper’s culture of alleged hostility toward staffers who held centrist or conservative views. It just happened to be the first place that took Brown’s essay, after The Atlantic turned it down.  “It wasn’t like we were targeting venues that would be more visible to the right,” Brown said. “I would prefer it to be in The New York Times. But yeah, I don’t think it was going to be published there.” He has some regrets about the headline of the piece. The “full truth” phrasing, he said, “really made it very salacious and a very, like, academic fraud or misconduct type of thing.” As for his co-authors, Brown says, he didn’t give them much advance notice of his plans to critique the paper because he wanted them to have “plausible deniability” in case they were questioned about it. “I wasn’t expecting them to be dragged into a firestorm,” he said. That said, at least one of Brown’s co-authors did approve of his essay, calling him a “real scientist” and a “badass” in a private email. Some climate scientists say there’s truth to Brown’s claim that journals are more likely to accept certain kinds of studies. “There’s a scientific equivalent of the ‘if it bleeds, it leads’ dynamic that affects a lot of the media,” said Zeke Hausfather, a climate scientist who previously worked at the Breakthrough Institute and first met Brown at Stanford. “Particularly in the top journals like Science and Nature, you are much, much more likely to have a shot at getting a paper in there — which, at least in the traditional academic sense, can be somewhat career-defining — if you have a dramatic finding, if you have a finding that ties into issues that are in the zeitgeist.”  Ken Caldeira said that a paper that supports the prior beliefs of a reviewer — such as one that shows bad things are going to happen because of climate change — is probably going to have an easier time getting through peer review than one that questions their beliefs.  In hindsight, Brown says he would have put less blame on journal editors specifically, and more emphasis on the overall culture of climate science, which affects what kind of papers get submitted in the first place. At the moment, he’s trying to publish another study about California’s wildfires, showing that a forest management technique called fuel reduction — removing the extra-flammable vegetation in forests — could completely offset the effects of climate change on wildfire danger in California.  California firefighters take on the Rabbit Fire in Moreno Valley, California, in July 2023. Jon Putman / SOPA Images / LightRocket / Getty Images Scientists have long been hesitant to focus on climate adaptation, worried that it would distract from the goal of keeping CO2 out of the atmosphere. Brown understands it’s necessary to reduce emissions in the long run, but he wants people to know that there are options for reducing the threats from fires, floods, and other climate-related disasters right now. “I think that there is an alternative world where all of these headlines in Science and Nature are about these successes and then studying why we’re good at that,” Brown said. “That would be an alternative world that I think could potentially make for much better outcomes for humans.” Brown submitted his second wildfire study to Nature earlier this year, acknowledging last year’s incident in his submission only to be turned down. Other prestigious journals, including Science, The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, and Science Advances, didn’t want it either, Brown said. Currently, the paper is in peer-review at Environmental Research Letters, which Brown describes as “not a high-impact journal but a decent outlet.”  He’s waiting to hear back.   The anti-hero While the world has mostly moved on from the Nature incident, Brown hasn’t backed away from the stance that scientists need to tell a more complicated story about the impacts of climate change. In front of a crowd of about 30 people at the conference I attended in June, Brown studied a pile of papers on his lap, rubbing his chin as he waited for his turn to talk. It was a panel on “climatism,” a term that Mike Hulme, a professor of human geography at the University of Cambridge, uses to refer to an ideology that tries to dump the world’s complex problems into the “climate change” bucket. Brown points out facts that fit rather awkwardly in that bucket. For example, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the world’s leading authority on climate science, has “low confidence” that floods are increasing on a global scale (even though some areas are flooding more). Hurricanes are not definitively getting more frequent or stronger (though they do tend to drop more rain than they used to). Sure, climate change has lowered crop yields, Brown notes, but technological advances have outweighed the impact of weird weather. Thanks to the advances in fertilization, irrigation, and pest control, crop yields have increased dramatically since the 1960s. According to Brown, when experts ignore this real-world evidence, they unintentionally mislead the public. “It’s effectively lying to people,” he told the crowd at the Breakthrough Institute panel. “And we shouldn’t do that as a scientific community.” The audience seemed receptive to Brown’s message, though it was admittedly a self-selected crowd that wanted to go to a panel about “climatism.” In the wider world, a member of the audience pointed out, taking an anti-doom stance makes you look like a bad person: There’s no popular story where the hero is the guy telling you not to worry about the approaching asteroid. “If this was a film,” he said, “everyone who’s spoken so far would be played by a B-list actor” who says, “Oh, it’s not that bad!” There is, however, a well-known archetype that easily fits the Brown affair: the anti-hero. And compared to villain or hero tales, it’s a bit more complicated. By one definition, an anti-hero has the following characteristics: They are doomed to fail before the action begins, they refuse to accept blame for the failure, and they serve as a vehicle for a critique of society.  By this point, Brown’s critique should be clear, but was he doomed to fail?  Ted Nordhaus, the Breakthrough Institute’s founder and executive director, said there’s been “a narrowing down of what’s acceptable to talk about” in climate discussions. On one side, you have the valiant defenders of science, and on the other, the deniers pushing the world toward catastrophe. In these polarized conditions, a critique of climate science isn’t given real consideration — it’s quickly attacked by climate advocates and exaggerated by those who want to delay action. “I think that is ultimately at the bottom of a lot of this reaction, and a lot of the upset, when someone like Patrick comes out and goes, ‘Hey, this sacred thing that we’re all involved in producing isn’t quite as sacred, or pure, as we often insist that it is,’” Nordhaus said.  Brown, in other words, may have been doomed to fail, because he wanted to complicate a conversation among people who see the stakes as clear as life or death.   Brown (right) and other panelists discuss “climatism” at a Breakthrough Institute conference in June 2024. The Breakthrough Institute For his part, Brown refuses to accept blame for the fact that many people are unwilling to listen to his message. Caldeira, Brown’s postdoc advisor, says that using softer language might have been better for actually persuading people. “I think the kinds of things that Patrick’s trying to communicate are important and valuable,” Caldeira said. “But I think if they’re not communicated with great care, that there’s a tendency for people just to discount the source of communication and not look carefully at what’s being said.” Brown takes the criticism but doesn’t plan to use more careful language, because he thinks readers should know he has a point of view. He knows his opinions aren’t popular; that’s part of why he left academia (though he still teaches some climate classes at Johns Hopkins University). “If you actually want to do research that’s kind of explicitly against the mainstream — like, if you want it to really highlight that crop yields are going up despite it being warmer — then you’re inviting a lot of potential trouble,” he said. “Socially, it’s kind of awkward. Like, you don’t really want to be in the faculty meeting, maybe, if that’s your reputation.” In fact, a recent study found that people who express nuanced views and take the middle road in polarized debates tend to be widely disliked. Despite the backlash, Brown says he would do it all over again. He thinks that if scientists do their best to explain the world as it is, putting politics aside and exploring a wider range of questions, they’ll earn more public trust. “What I hope is that it can make maybe a subconscious impact on people,” he said, “that even if they lashed out against it, or wrote something critical about me about it at the time, that it germinated an idea, potentially, in their heads that the issue I’m talking about is real.”  As time has worn on, Brown says he has seen the hostility toward his ideas start to die down. He was recently invited, for instance, to give a talk on his wildfire research and his critique of climate science at Columbia University’s climate school. After the “climatism” panel ended in June, I tracked down Brown for one last in-person conversation. As we sat side-by-side on Adirondack chairs looking over the foggy vista of the Golden Gate Bridge — it seemed easier that way, with neither of us having to make eye contact — I asked him some follow-up questions, and afterward, explained that my next step was to interview people who knew him. Then Brown said something I wasn’t expecting. Would I talk to his critics? He hoped I would, and helpfully name-dropped a couple of them. Then he assured me that he’d grown a thick skin, so it was just fine if I ended up writing an unflattering story.  It made sense in hindsight. Brown wanted the complicated truth, the full story in all its messiness — even in an article about him. This story was originally published by Grist with the headline A climate scientist criticized his own study. Is he a hero or a villain? on Oct 1, 2024.

Patrick Brown is trying to tell a complicated story about climate change. Many don't want to hear it.

When a climate scientist’s inbox is flooded with requests to appear on Fox News, it’s a fairly clear sign they’ve done something controversial. For Patrick Brown, the moment arrived a year ago, mere hours after his essay titled “I Left Out the Full Truth to Get My Climate Change Paper Published” landed on the internet.

“I’m reaching out to invite you to our show tomorrow to discuss how the media’s obsession with global warming manipulates the truth about wildfires,” a booking producer for the morning show Fox & Friends First wrote to Brown on September 5, 2023, proposing a five-minute video interview at 5:20 a.m. the next day.

Brown was torn. Here was a chance, his wife urged him, to reach a new, national audience with his message: that “climate change is real and is important, but it’s not everything.” (It was an audience that would be, for a change, skeptical about the first half of that statement instead of the second.) Yet Brown was overwhelmed by the attention his piece was drawing and worried he wouldn’t be able to redirect the conversation away from anti-science talking points in such a short interview. “I felt like I would become too bullied into making this argument that climate change is all a hoax,” he said.

The drama had been set in motion one week earlier, when Nature, arguably the most prestigious scientific journal in the world, published a study Brown co-authored showing that climate change had increased the risk of explosive wildfires in California by 25 percent. When the paper came out at the end of August, colleagues congratulated him, and the research was covered by NPR, The Los Angeles Times, and other media outlets. “You’re treated like this just very, very important person, with super interesting things to say,” Brown said. “‘Thank you so much, Dr. Brown’ — you know, that type of thing.”

Then, a week later, Brown shocked many of his colleagues by criticizing his own study in his essay in The Free Press, an outlet that seeks to cover news stories “that are ignored or misconstrued in the service of an ideological narrative.”

Brown wrote that he had tailored the wildfire study to fit what high-impact journals seemed to want, with a single-minded focus on communicating the disastrous consequences of climate change. “The editors of these journals have made it abundantly clear, both by what they publish and what they reject, that they want climate papers that support certain preapproved narratives,” he wrote. This instinct, he said, came at the expense of more complex, solutions-oriented studies about, say, managing forests to reduce the risk of extreme fires. 

He stood by his study’s finding that global warming contributes to wildfires — “Make no mistake: That influence is very real,” he wrote — but argued that its narrow focus was part of a broader problem. “To put it bluntly,” he wrote, “climate science has become less about understanding the complexities of the world and more about serving as a kind of Cassandra, urgently warning the public about the dangers of climate change. However understandable this instinct may be, it distorts a great deal of climate science research, misinforms the public, and most importantly, makes practical solutions more difficult to achieve.”

Brown declined the Fox News interviews, but that didn’t stop many right-wing news outlets from seizing on the idea that scientists were somehow messing with climate data. “Climate change expert overhyped his findings,” read one headline, on the front page of the U.K.’s Daily Telegraph. Meanwhile, left-of-center news sources quickly passed the mic to Brown’s detractors. “Fact check: Scientists pour cold water on claims of ‘journal bias’ by author of wildfires study,” read the headline on the website Carbon Brief.

For several days, anyone who followed the conversation about climate change on X, formerly Twitter, couldn’t open the app without coming across attacks on Brown. 

“The really sort of pitchfork reaction to Patrick’s essay took him by surprise,” said Alex Trembath, the deputy director of the think tank The Breakthrough Institute, where Brown co-directs the climate and energy team.

Headlines show reactions from the press following the publication of Brown’s essay. Grist

Although science clearly demonstrates that climate change is real and worsening, there’s still a muddiness around exactly how much it drives the floods, fires, and other impacts seen around the world today, compared to other factors. Covering cities in impermeable pavement, or stifling fires and letting forests overgrow, plays a role in how bad these disasters become. In blog posts, talks, and on social media, Brown examines these murky details, calling out oversimplification when he sees it, even if doing so might distract from what many colleagues see as the central task of stabilizing the Earth’s climate.

Brown’s choice — to embrace the gray over the green, so to speak — doesn’t make him popular with those who see a moral imperative to ditch fossil fuels as fast as possible. From their perspective, you could make the case that Brown is a disgruntled academic who’s undermining the public will to reduce emissions by alleging there’s bias in climate science and challenging the focus on catastrophe. From another, you could argue that he’s on a mission to make science more honest, informing the public about how humans might adapt to a hotter planet.

So is Brown a villain, a hero, or something more complicated? 


The villain

The way a person characterizes the commotion that followed Brown’s essay starts with what to call it. The climate scientist Zeke Hausfather, for example, suggested it could be called “a series of unfortunate events,” a nod to the children’s books by Lemony Snicket. Sitting next to Brown at dinner during a Breakthrough Institute conference in June, I fumbled for words to ask a question about “the Nature incident.” 

“We call it ‘the hullabaloo,’” Brown replied with a half-cocked smile. 

At some point, in my head, I dubbed it “the Brown affair,” a reference to an episode from 1996, in which the physicist Alan Sokal submitted “an article liberally salted with nonsense” to a cultural studies journal. Sokal’s paper suggested that physical reality was “a social and linguistic construct” and put forth a bizarre theory about quantum gravity, claiming that it provided “powerful intellectual support for the progressive political project.” Sokal bet correctly that the journal would publish his word salad if “a) it sounded good and b) it flattered the editors’ ideological preconceptions.” 

An article about the Sokal affair appeared on the front page of the New York Times on May 18, 1996. The New York Times Archives

Sokal revealed the hoax in an essay in the magazine Lingua Franca a few weeks after the article was published, explaining that his intention was to highlight “sloppy thinking” among the academic left, who he thought were drifting away from objective reality. Sokal’s hoax made the front page of The New York Times and traveled as far as Le Monde in France, and decades later, the ethics of his experiment are still being debated. “In retrospect, I now see that I underestimated the interest of the general public in intellectual questions,” Sokal reflected in the 2008 book Beyond the Hoax

This is the version of Brown, the villain: a Sokal 2.0, a prankster with suspicious ethics who’s providing fuel for oil companies, the far right, and the rest of the climate disinformation machine. 

It’s a comparison made by Max Boykoff, a professor of environmental studies at the University of Colorado Boulder, who teaches the Sokal affair in his classes. Brown “deliberately appeared to have used some of the systems that we use in good faith — of peer review, of publishing — and manipulated that system,” Boykoff said. 

One of Brown’s coauthors said he was blindsided by the about-face. “Patrick’s critique of our paper came as a surprise to me, and I don’t share his cynicism regarding Nature’s editorial bias,” Steven J. Davis, a professor of Earth system science at Stanford University, wrote in an email.

Unlike Sokal, Brown says he didn’t make a premeditated decision to try to undermine a journal’s credibility. He decided to write the essay in June last year, a month after Nature had already provisionally accepted the paper he’d been working on for years. 

Still, Magdalena Skipper, Nature’s editor-in-chief, said in a statement that Brown’s essay revealed that his study published the week before reflected “poor research practices and are not in line with the standards we set for our journal.” To counter the argument that journal editors preferred alarming studies about climate change, Skipper pointed to recent papers that found marine heat waves don’t generally hurt bottom-dwelling fish, and that found the top factor in the decline of the Amazon’s carbon sink wasn’t climate change, but less law enforcement.

Skipper said studies that countered the consensus were actually “of special interest to us.” She also suggested that the peer reviewers of Brown’s paper had told him to account for the other variables he said were important, such as vegetation and fire management. (Brown wrote a long FAQ-style piece arguing that his critics took the peer review comments out of context, misrepresenting what the reviewers meant.) 

Some commentators made the case that Brown had made much ado for little reason. In an extensive interview for the climate news site Heatmap, the journalist Robinson Meyer badgered Brown about whether he actually molded his paper to focus on climate change because of Nature’s “preferred narrative,” or because it was simply the easiest approach to a knotty research problem. 

“Brown seems to have talked himself into the view that he did something wrong, but it’s not clear to me that he actually did,” Meyer wrote.

Brown is no climate denier, yet his critique of Nature mirrored the most common type of climate misinformation — attacks on scientists and the processes of science, said John Cook, a researcher at the Melbourne Centre for Behaviour Change in Australia. As a result, right-leaning sites easily used Brown’s essay to feed a narrative that climate research was being “censored” to fit the demands of “woke editors.” Fox News picked quotes from Brown’s piece and combined them with Republican talking points that Democrats are overplaying the role of climate change.

“Patrick Brown is saying the quiet part out loud — liberals are cherry-picking data to fit an agenda and push radical policies that drive up the cost of living,” California Assembly Republican leader James Gallagher told Fox News Digital. “Climate change is Democrats’ excuse to avoid blame for turning our forests into tinderboxes.”


The hero

Brown’s writing might come across as confrontational, but in person, he’s nice — Midwest nice, with the kind of modest, polite, socially guarded demeanor I instantly recognize, being from the Midwest myself. Alex Trembath — another Midwest-raised member of the Breakthrough Institute — was effusive in his description of Brown’s pleasantness. “He has just been just an absolute joy to work with,” Trembath said. “He’s a kind, humble, sort of empathetic guy.”

About a month after I first contacted Brown, I asked if he’d let me review his private correspondence related to the Nature incident. It’s safe to say most people don’t want to turn over the contents of their email inbox to a nosy journalist. But Brown not only complied with my requests (“Sure, I’d be happy to share emails/reactions,” he quickly responded), he also supplied me with a dozen screenshots of relevant messages that I hadn’t even asked for.

These private messages show many scientists didn’t just think Brown was right — they saw him as a role model. “It takes a lot of guts to do what you did, and you’re advancing science,” read an email from a researcher at the University of Sussex. “I have not, in my lifetime in academia, seen anyone braver or stronger,” wrote a scientist at Swinburne University. “Well done for taking a courageous (and possibly career-damaging) stand to defend the standards of research integrity,” a physicist wrote. A former colleague from Stanford sent his support, saying, “You have always been one of the people that I want to be most.”

Private emails sent to Patrick Brown show support from other researchers. Grist / Courtesy of Patrick Brown

Any “hero” story starts with an origin story, and Brown’s begins in Minnetonka, Minnesota, on the outskirts of Minneapolis, where an average of 53 inches of snow falls per year, and tornado season typically lasts from May to September. As a weather-obsessed 10-year-old, Brown probably could have told you facts like those. By that point, in the mid-1990s, he had already written his first weather newsletter (recently unearthed at his mom’s house) explaining how warm and cold fronts cause unstable weather.

After going to the University of Wisconsin to pursue his dream of becoming a meteorologist, Brown found that the actual work of making weather maps for newspapers wasn’t what he wanted. “It was this terrible assembly line job, actually, where you had to draw like 20 different maps in a day, just going as fast as you could on Adobe Illustrator, eating lunch at your desk,” he said. So Brown headed to San Jose State University for his master’s degree to do climate research instead. He says his background in meteorology gives him a different point of view: Whereas those who come from an environmental science background may view humans ruining nature as the problem, meteorologists tend to see the weather as a threat to people’s safety.

When Brown started teaching classes as a master’s student, he was surprised to find the science on climate impacts in the textbooks was thinner than he’d expected. He was initially motivated to “beef that up,” to show his class how severe the weather changes were. But the more he looked into it, the more he found that what he had assumed were dramatic changes were “very small, very subtle, very uncertain.” He began seeing a disconnect between what the science showed and how it got communicated.

After finishing a Ph.D. at Duke, Brown joined Ken Caldeira’s lab at Stanford for his postdoctoral research, to examine how the climate system interacts with the world we’ve built. Caldeira, now an emeritus scientist with Carnegie Science, said that Brown was “one of the best and most productive postdocs that have ever been in my group during my entire career.” He described Brown as a bit of a lone wolf, someone who “tends to sit in front of his laptop and grind away at his work.” Brown published his first paper in Nature with Caldeira in 2017, showing that the most alarming climate models tended to be the most accurate.

Brown landed a tenure-track job as an assistant professor back at San Jose State in 2019, but he became uncomfortable with what he had come to see as the clearest path to success: mining data to show the negative effects of climate change. Wanting more freedom, Brown joined the Breakthrough Institute in 2022, a Bay Area think tank dubbed by the San Francisco Chronicle as “the most controversial climate nonprofit you’ve never heard of.”

It’s a safe place for people with unpopular ideas, known for advocating for nuclear power. “You don’t come to work at the Breakthrough Institute without an understanding that we exist to challenge what we believe to be stuck debates in environmentalism, in energy and climate policy, and beyond,” Trembath said.

Freed from the restrictions of academic publishing, Brown began writing opinionated pieces on the Breakthrough Institute’s site — critiques of how “science says” has been used as a “bludgeon” in policy debates on matters that science can’t really speak to, or how scientists tend to communicate climate change’s contribution to weather extremes like heat waves in the most dramatic way, even if it’s a little misleading

Brown started pointing out what he saw as biases in the publication process, and it slowly dawned on him that he might be contributing to the problem. “I was criticizing these other papers,” he said. “And I felt like, in order to really make this point, what I need to do is stop being a hypocrite and just criticize my own paper.” 

Brown didn’t particularly want to run the resulting piece in The Free Press, a media company founded by Bari Weiss, a journalist who resigned from The New York Times opinion desk in 2020 over the newspaper’s culture of alleged hostility toward staffers who held centrist or conservative views. It just happened to be the first place that took Brown’s essay, after The Atlantic turned it down. 

“It wasn’t like we were targeting venues that would be more visible to the right,” Brown said. “I would prefer it to be in The New York Times. But yeah, I don’t think it was going to be published there.” He has some regrets about the headline of the piece. The “full truth” phrasing, he said, “really made it very salacious and a very, like, academic fraud or misconduct type of thing.”

As for his co-authors, Brown says, he didn’t give them much advance notice of his plans to critique the paper because he wanted them to have “plausible deniability” in case they were questioned about it. “I wasn’t expecting them to be dragged into a firestorm,” he said. That said, at least one of Brown’s co-authors did approve of his essay, calling him a “real scientist” and a “badass” in a private email.

Some climate scientists say there’s truth to Brown’s claim that journals are more likely to accept certain kinds of studies. “There’s a scientific equivalent of the ‘if it bleeds, it leads’ dynamic that affects a lot of the media,” said Zeke Hausfather, a climate scientist who previously worked at the Breakthrough Institute and first met Brown at Stanford. “Particularly in the top journals like Science and Nature, you are much, much more likely to have a shot at getting a paper in there — which, at least in the traditional academic sense, can be somewhat career-defining — if you have a dramatic finding, if you have a finding that ties into issues that are in the zeitgeist.” 

Ken Caldeira said that a paper that supports the prior beliefs of a reviewer — such as one that shows bad things are going to happen because of climate change — is probably going to have an easier time getting through peer review than one that questions their beliefs. 

In hindsight, Brown says he would have put less blame on journal editors specifically, and more emphasis on the overall culture of climate science, which affects what kind of papers get submitted in the first place. At the moment, he’s trying to publish another study about California’s wildfires, showing that a forest management technique called fuel reduction — removing the extra-flammable vegetation in forests — could completely offset the effects of climate change on wildfire danger in California

Two firefighters standing in front of an active wildfire
California firefighters take on the Rabbit Fire in Moreno Valley, California, in July 2023. Jon Putman / SOPA Images / LightRocket / Getty Images

Scientists have long been hesitant to focus on climate adaptation, worried that it would distract from the goal of keeping CO2 out of the atmosphere. Brown understands it’s necessary to reduce emissions in the long run, but he wants people to know that there are options for reducing the threats from fires, floods, and other climate-related disasters right now. “I think that there is an alternative world where all of these headlines in Science and Nature are about these successes and then studying why we’re good at that,” Brown said. “That would be an alternative world that I think could potentially make for much better outcomes for humans.”

Brown submitted his second wildfire study to Nature earlier this year, acknowledging last year’s incident in his submission only to be turned down. Other prestigious journals, including Science, The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, and Science Advances, didn’t want it either, Brown said. Currently, the paper is in peer-review at Environmental Research Letters, which Brown describes as “not a high-impact journal but a decent outlet.” 

He’s waiting to hear back.  


The anti-hero

While the world has mostly moved on from the Nature incident, Brown hasn’t backed away from the stance that scientists need to tell a more complicated story about the impacts of climate change.

In front of a crowd of about 30 people at the conference I attended in June, Brown studied a pile of papers on his lap, rubbing his chin as he waited for his turn to talk. It was a panel on “climatism,” a term that Mike Hulme, a professor of human geography at the University of Cambridge, uses to refer to an ideology that tries to dump the world’s complex problems into the “climate change” bucket.

Brown points out facts that fit rather awkwardly in that bucket. For example, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the world’s leading authority on climate science, has “low confidence” that floods are increasing on a global scale (even though some areas are flooding more). Hurricanes are not definitively getting more frequent or stronger (though they do tend to drop more rain than they used to). Sure, climate change has lowered crop yields, Brown notes, but technological advances have outweighed the impact of weird weather. Thanks to the advances in fertilization, irrigation, and pest control, crop yields have increased dramatically since the 1960s.

According to Brown, when experts ignore this real-world evidence, they unintentionally mislead the public. “It’s effectively lying to people,” he told the crowd at the Breakthrough Institute panel. “And we shouldn’t do that as a scientific community.”

The audience seemed receptive to Brown’s message, though it was admittedly a self-selected crowd that wanted to go to a panel about “climatism.” In the wider world, a member of the audience pointed out, taking an anti-doom stance makes you look like a bad person: There’s no popular story where the hero is the guy telling you not to worry about the approaching asteroid. “If this was a film,” he said, “everyone who’s spoken so far would be played by a B-list actor” who says, “Oh, it’s not that bad!”

There is, however, a well-known archetype that easily fits the Brown affair: the anti-hero. And compared to villain or hero tales, it’s a bit more complicated. By one definition, an anti-hero has the following characteristics: They are doomed to fail before the action begins, they refuse to accept blame for the failure, and they serve as a vehicle for a critique of society. 

By this point, Brown’s critique should be clear, but was he doomed to fail? 

Ted Nordhaus, the Breakthrough Institute’s founder and executive director, said there’s been “a narrowing down of what’s acceptable to talk about” in climate discussions. On one side, you have the valiant defenders of science, and on the other, the deniers pushing the world toward catastrophe. In these polarized conditions, a critique of climate science isn’t given real consideration — it’s quickly attacked by climate advocates and exaggerated by those who want to delay action. “I think that is ultimately at the bottom of a lot of this reaction, and a lot of the upset, when someone like Patrick comes out and goes, ‘Hey, this sacred thing that we’re all involved in producing isn’t quite as sacred, or pure, as we often insist that it is,’” Nordhaus said. 

Brown, in other words, may have been doomed to fail, because he wanted to complicate a conversation among people who see the stakes as clear as life or death.  

Brown (right) and other panelists discuss “climatism” at a Breakthrough Institute conference in June 2024. The Breakthrough Institute

For his part, Brown refuses to accept blame for the fact that many people are unwilling to listen to his message. Caldeira, Brown’s postdoc advisor, says that using softer language might have been better for actually persuading people. “I think the kinds of things that Patrick’s trying to communicate are important and valuable,” Caldeira said. “But I think if they’re not communicated with great care, that there’s a tendency for people just to discount the source of communication and not look carefully at what’s being said.”

Brown takes the criticism but doesn’t plan to use more careful language, because he thinks readers should know he has a point of view. He knows his opinions aren’t popular; that’s part of why he left academia (though he still teaches some climate classes at Johns Hopkins University). “If you actually want to do research that’s kind of explicitly against the mainstream — like, if you want it to really highlight that crop yields are going up despite it being warmer — then you’re inviting a lot of potential trouble,” he said. “Socially, it’s kind of awkward. Like, you don’t really want to be in the faculty meeting, maybe, if that’s your reputation.” In fact, a recent study found that people who express nuanced views and take the middle road in polarized debates tend to be widely disliked.

Despite the backlash, Brown says he would do it all over again. He thinks that if scientists do their best to explain the world as it is, putting politics aside and exploring a wider range of questions, they’ll earn more public trust. “What I hope is that it can make maybe a subconscious impact on people,” he said, “that even if they lashed out against it, or wrote something critical about me about it at the time, that it germinated an idea, potentially, in their heads that the issue I’m talking about is real.” 

As time has worn on, Brown says he has seen the hostility toward his ideas start to die down. He was recently invited, for instance, to give a talk on his wildfire research and his critique of climate science at Columbia University’s climate school.

After the “climatism” panel ended in June, I tracked down Brown for one last in-person conversation. As we sat side-by-side on Adirondack chairs looking over the foggy vista of the Golden Gate Bridge — it seemed easier that way, with neither of us having to make eye contact — I asked him some follow-up questions, and afterward, explained that my next step was to interview people who knew him. Then Brown said something I wasn’t expecting. Would I talk to his critics? He hoped I would, and helpfully name-dropped a couple of them. Then he assured me that he’d grown a thick skin, so it was just fine if I ended up writing an unflattering story. 

It made sense in hindsight. Brown wanted the complicated truth, the full story in all its messiness — even in an article about him.

This story was originally published by Grist with the headline A climate scientist criticized his own study. Is he a hero or a villain? on Oct 1, 2024.

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

For plants, urban heat islands don’t mimic global warming

Scientists have found that trees in cities respond to higher temperatures differently than those in forests, potentially masking climate impacts.

It’s tricky to predict precisely what the impacts of climate change will be, given the many variables involved. To predict the impacts of a warmer world on plant life, some researchers look at urban “heat islands,” where, because of the effects of urban structures, temperatures consistently run a few degrees higher than those of the surrounding rural areas. This enables side-by-side comparisons of plant responses.But a new study by researchers at MIT and Harvard University has found that, at least for forests, urban heat islands are a poor proxy for global warming, and this may have led researchers to underestimate the impacts of warming in some cases. The discrepancy, they found, has a lot to do with the limited genetic diversity of urban tree species.The findings appear in the journal PNAS, in a paper by MIT postdoc Meghan Blumstein, professor of civil and environmental engineering David Des Marais, and four others.“The appeal of these urban temperature gradients is, well, it’s already there,” says Des Marais. “We can’t look into the future, so why don’t we look across space, comparing rural and urban areas?” Because such data is easily obtainable, methods comparing the growth of plants in cities with similar plants outside them have been widely used, he says, and have been quite useful. Researchers did recognize some shortcomings to this approach, including significant differences in availability of some nutrients such as nitrogen. Still, “a lot of ecologists recognized that they weren’t perfect, but it was what we had,” he says.Most of the research by Des Marais’ group is lab-based, under conditions tightly controlled for temperature, humidity, and carbon dioxide concentration. While there are a handful of experimental sites where conditions are modified out in the field, for example using heaters around one or a few trees, “those are super small-scale,” he says. “When you’re looking at these longer-term trends that are occurring over space that’s quite a bit larger than you could reasonably manipulate, an important question is, how do you control the variables?”Temperature gradients have offered one approach to this problem, but Des Marais and his students have also been focusing on the genetics of the tree species involved, comparing those sampled in cities to the same species sampled in a natural forest nearby. And it turned out there were differences, even between trees that appeared similar.“So, lo and behold, you think you’re only letting one variable change in your model, which is the temperature difference from an urban to a rural setting,” he says, “but in fact, it looks like there was also a genotypic diversity that was not being accounted for.”The genetic differences meant that the plants being studied were not representative of those in the natural environment, and the researchers found that the difference was actually masking the impact of warming. The urban trees, they found, were less affected than their natural counterparts in terms of when the plants’ leaves grew and unfurled, or “leafed out,” in the spring.The project began during the pandemic lockdown, when Blumstein was a graduate student. She had a grant to study red oak genotypes across New England, but was unable to travel because of lockdowns. So, she concentrated on trees that were within reach in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She then collaborated with people doing research at the Harvard Forest, a research forest in rural central Massachusetts. They collected three years of data from both locations, including the temperature profiles, the leafing-out timing, and the genetic profiles of the trees. Though the study was looking at red oaks specifically, the researchers say the findings are likely to apply to trees broadly.At the time, researchers had just sequenced the oak tree genome, and that allowed Blumstein and her colleagues to look for subtle differences among the red oaks in the two locations. The differences they found showed that the urban trees were more resistant to the effects of warmer temperatures than were those in the natural environment.“Initially, we saw these results and we were sort of like, oh, this is a bad thing,” Des Marais says. “Ecologists are getting this heat island effect wrong, which is true.” Fortunately, this can be easily corrected by factoring in genomic data. “It’s not that much more work, because sequencing genomes is so cheap and so straightforward. Now, if someone wants to look at an urban-rural gradient and make these kinds of predictions, well, that’s fine. You just have to add some information about the genomes.”It's not surprising that this genetic variation exists, he says, since growers have learned by trial and error over the decades which varieties of trees tend to thrive in the difficult urban environment, with typically poor soil, poor drainage, and pollution. “As a result, there’s just not much genetic diversity in our trees within cities.”The implications could be significant, Des Marais says. When the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) releases its regular reports on the status of the climate, “one of the tools the IPCC has to predict future responses to climate change with respect to temperature are these urban-to-rural gradients.” He hopes that these new findings will be incorporated into their next report, which is just being drafted. “If these results are generally true beyond red oaks, this suggests that the urban heat island approach to studying plant response to temperature is underpredicting how strong that response is.”The research team included Sophie Webster, Robin Hopkins, and David Basler from Harvard University and Jie Yun from MIT. The work was supported by the National Science Foundation, the Bullard Fellowship at the Harvard Forest, and MIT.

Brisbane 2032 is no longer legally bound to be ‘climate positive’. Will it still leave a green legacy?

Brisbane 2032 was supposed to be the first ‘climate-positive’ Olympic Games. But a quiet change to the host contract puts the commitment in doubt.

When Brisbane was awarded the 2032 Olympic and Paralympic Games, it came with a widely publicised landmark promise: the world’s first “climate-positive” games. The International Olympic Committee had already announced all games would be climate-positive from 2030. It said this meant the games would be required to “go beyond” the previous obligation of reducing carbon emissions directly related to their operations and offsetting or otherwise “compensating” for the rest. In other words, achieving net-zero was no longer sufficient. Now each organising committee would be legally required to remove more carbon from the atmosphere than the games emit. This is in keeping with the most widely cited definition of climate-positive. Both Paris 2024 and Los Angeles 2028 made voluntary pledges. But Brisbane 2032 was the first contractually required to be climate-positive. This was enshrined in the original 2021 Olympic Host Contract, an agreement between the IOC, the State of Queensland, Brisbane City Council and the Australian Olympic Committee. But the host contract has quietly changed since. All references to “climate-positive” have been replaced with weaker terminology. The move was not publicly announced. This fits a broader pattern of Olympic Games promising big on sustainability before weakening or abandoning commitments over time. A quiet retreat from climate positive Research by my team has shown the climate-positive announcement sparked great hope for the future of Brisbane as a regenerative city. We saw Brisbane 2032 as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to radically shift away from the ongoing systemic issues underlying urban development. This vision to embrace genuinely sustainable city design centred on fostering circular economies and net positive development. It would have aligned urban development with ecological stewardship. Beyond just mitigating environmental harm, the games could have set a new standard for sustainability by becoming a catalyst to actively regenerate the natural environment. Yet, on December 7 2023, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) initiated an addendum to the host contract. It effectively downgraded the games’ sustainability obligations. It was signed by Brisbane City Council, the State of Queensland, the Australian Olympic Committee and the IOC between April and May 2024. The commitment for the 2032 Brisbane Games to be climate positive has been removed from the Olympic Host Contract. International Olympic Committee Asked about these amendments, the IOC replied it “took the decision to no longer use the term ‘climate-positive’ when referring to its climate commitments”. But the IOC maintains that: “The requirements underpinning this term, however, and our ambition to address the climate crisis, have not changed”. It said the terminology was changed to ensure that communications “are transparent and easily understood; that they focus on the actions implemented to reduce carbon emissions; and that they are aligned with best practice and current regulations, as well as the principle of continual improvement”. Similarly, a Brisbane 2032 spokesperson told The Conversation the language was changed: to ensure we are communicating in a transparent and easily understood manner, following advice from the International Olympic Committee and recommendations of the United Nations and European Union Green Claims Directive, made in 2023. Brisbane 2032 will continue to plan, as we always have, to deliver a Games that focus on specific measures to deliver a more sustainable Games. But the new wording commits Brisbane 2032 to merely “aiming at removing more carbon from the atmosphere than what the Games project emits”. Crucially, this is no longer binding. The new language makes carbon removal an optional goal rather than a contractual requirement. A stadium in Victoria Park violates the 2032 Olympic Host Contract location requirements. Save Victoria Park, CC BY Aiming high, yet falling short Olympic Games have adopted increasingly ambitious sustainability rhetoric. Yet, action in the real world typically falls short. In our ongoing research with the Politecnico di Torino, Italy, we analysed sustainability commitments since the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin. We found they often change over time. Initial promises are either watered down or abandoned altogether due to political, financial, and logistical pressures. Construction activities for the Winter Olympic Games 2014 in Sochi, Russia, irreversibly damaged the Western Caucasus – a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Rio 2016 failed to clean up Guanabara Bay, despite its original pledge to reduce pollutants by 80%. Rio also caused large-scale deforestation and wetland destruction. Ancient forests were cleared for PyeongChang 2018 ski slopes. Our research found a persistent gap between sustainability rhetoric and reality. Brisbane 2032 fits this pattern as the original promise of hosting climate-positive games is at risk of reverting to business as usual. Victoria Park controversy In 2021, a KPMG report for the Queensland government analysed the potential economic, social and environmental benefits of the Brisbane 2032 games. It said the government was proposing to deliver the climate-positive commitment required to host the 2032 games through a range of initiatives. This included “repurposing and upgrading existing infrastructure with enhanced green star credentials”. But plans for the Olympic stadium have changed a great deal since then. Plans to upgrade the Brisbane Cricket Ground, commonly known as the Gabba, have been replaced by a new stadium to be built in Victoria Park. Victoria Park is Brisbane’s largest remaining inner-city green space. It is known to Indigenous peoples as Barrambin (the windy place). It is listed on the Queensland Heritage Register due to its great cultural significance. Page 90 of the Olympic Host Contract prohibits permanent construction “in statutory nature areas, cultural protected areas and World Heritage sites”. Local community groups and environmental advocates have vowed to fight plans for a Victoria Park stadium. This may include a legal challenge. The area of Victoria Park (64 hectares) compared with Central Park (341h), Regent’s Park (160h), Bois de Vicennes (995h). Save Victoria Park What next? The climate-positive commitment has been downgraded to an unenforceable aspiration. A new Olympic stadium has been announced in direct violation of the host contract. Will Brisbane 2032 still leave a green legacy? Greater transparency and public accountability are needed. Otherwise, the original plan may fall short of the positive legacy it aspired to, before the Olympics even begin. Marcus Foth receives funding from the Australian Research Council. He is a Senior Associate with Outside Opinion, a team of experienced academic and research consultants. He is chair of the Principal Body Corporate for the Kelvin Grove Urban Village, chair of Brisbane Flight Path Community Alliance, and a member of the Queensland Greens.

Has the UK's most loathed protest group really stopped throwing soup?

Just Stop Oil says it will disband but does this mark an end to the chaos caused by its climate protests?

Has the UK's most loathed protest group really stopped throwing soup?Justin RowlattBBC News Climate EditorJSO HandoutThe climate action group Just Stop Oil has announced it is to disband at the end of April. Its activists have been derided as attention-seeking zealots and vandals and it is loathed by many for its disruptive direct action tactics. It says it has won because its demand that there should be no new oil and gas licences is now government policy. So, did they really win and does this mark an end to the chaos caused by its climate protests?Hayley Walsh's heart was racing as she sat in the audience at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane on 27 January this year. The 42 year-old lecturer and mother of three tried to calm her breathing. Hollywood star Sigourney Weaver was onstage in her West End debut production of Shakespeare's The Tempest. But Hayley, a Just Stop Oil activist, had her own drama planned.As Weaver's Prospero declaimed "Come forth, I say," Hayley sprang from her seat and rushed the stage with Richard Weir, a 60-year-old mechanical engineer from Tyneside. They launched a confetti cannon and unfurled a banner that read "Over 1.5 Degrees is a Global Shipwreck" - a reference to the news that 2024 was the first year to pass the symbolic 1.5C threshold in global average temperature rise, and a nod to the shipwreck theme in the play. It was a classic Just Stop Oil (JSO) action. The target was high profile and would guarantee publicity. The message was simple and presented in the group's signature fluorescent orange.The reaction of those affected was also a classic response to JSO. Amid the boos and whistles you can hear a shout of "idiots". "Drag them off the stage", one audience member can be heard shouting, "I hope you [expletive] get arrested," another says.JSO is a UK-based environmental activist group that aims to end fossil fuel extraction and uses direct action to draw attention to its cause. It has been called a "criminal cult" and its activists branded "eco-loons" by the Sun. The Daily Mail has described it as "deranged" and says its members have "unleashed misery on thousands of ordinary people though their selfish antics".JSO HandoutIt is the group's road protests that have probably caused the most disruption – and public anger.The group has thrown soup at a Van Gogh in the National Gallery, exploded a chalk dust bomb during the World Snooker Championship in Sheffield, smashed a cabinet containing a copy of the Magna Carta at the British Library, sprayed temporary paint on the stones of Stonehenge and even defaced Charles Darwin's grave.But it is the group's road protests that have probably caused the most disruption – and public anger. In November 2022, 45 JSO members climbed gantries around the M25 severely disrupting traffic for over four days. People missed flights, medical appointments and exams as thousands of drivers were delayed for hours. The cost to the Metropolitan Police was put at £1.1 million.Just Stop Oil was born out of Extinction Rebellion (XR). XR – founded in 2018 - brought thousands of people onto the streets in what were dubbed "festivals of resistance". They came to a peak in April 2019, when protestors brought parts of the capital to a halt for more than a week and plonked a large pink boat in the middle of Oxford Circus.The spectacle and disruption XR caused generated massive media attention, but the police were furious. Hundreds of officers were diverted from frontline duties and by the end of 2019 the bill for policing the protests had reached £37m.And behind the scenes XR was riven by furious debates about tactics. Many inside the movement said it should be less confrontational and disruptive but a hard core of activists argued it would be more effective to double down on direct action.It became clear that there was room for what Sarah Lunnon, one of the co-founders of Just Stop Oil, calls "a more radical flank". They decided a new, more focused operation was needed, modelled on earlier civil disobedience movements like the Suffragettes, Gandhi's civil disobedience campaigns and the civil rights movement in the US.The group was formally launched on Valentine's Day, 2022. It was a very different animal to XR. Instead of thousands of people taking part in street carnivals, JSO's actions involved a few committed activists. A small strategy group oversaw the campaign and meticulously planned its activities. A mobilisation team worked to recruit new members, and another team focused on supporting activists after they were arrested.Getty ImagesJust Stop Oil protesters invading a Rugby matchThe dozens of actions the group has carried out generated lots of publicity, but also massive public opposition. There were confrontations between members of the public and protestors and an outcry from politicians across all the main political parties.The police said they needed more powers to deal with this new form of protest and they got them. New offences were created including interfering with national infrastructure, "locking on" – chaining or gluing yourself to something – and tunnelling underground. Causing a public nuisance also became a potential crime – providing the police with a powerful new tool to use against protestors who block roads.In the four years since it was formed dozens of the group's supporters have been jailed. Five activists were handed multi-year sentences for their role in the M25 actions in 2022. Those were reduced on appeal earlier this month but are still the longest jail terms for non-violent civil disobedience ever issued.Senior JSO members deny the crackdown had anything to do with the group's decision to "hang up the hi-vis" – as its statement this week announcing the end of campaign put it.JSO's public position is that it has won its battle. "Just Stop Oil's initial demand to end new oil and gas is now government policy, making us one of the most successful civil resistance campaigns in recent history," the group claimed.The government has said it does not plan to issue any new licences for oil and gas production but strongly denies its policies have a link to JSO. Furthermore, the Prime Minister's official spokesperson told journalists: "We have been very clear when it comes to oil and gas that it has a future for decades to come in our energy mix."And the group's wider goal – to end the production of oil and gas – has manifestly not been achieved. The members of the group I spoke to for this article all agree the climate crisis has deepened.AFPA protest at the Aston Martin showroom in central LondonIn the face of stiffer sentences, some climate campaigners have said they will turn to more clandestine activities. One new group says it plans a campaign of sabotage against key infrastructure. In a manifesto published online it says it plans to "kickstart a new phase of the climate activist movement, aiming to shut down key actors of the fossil fuel economy."That's not a direction the JSO members I spoke to said they wanted to go. Sarah Lunnon said a key principle of JSO and the civil disobedience movement generally was that activists would take responsibility for their actions. One of the first questions new joiners were asked is whether they would be willing to be locked up."As corporations and billionaires corrupt political systems across the world, we need a different approach. "We are creating a new strategy, to face this reality and to carry our responsibilities at this time," the group says, suggesting they may be planning to form a new movement.JSO's most high-profile figure, Roger Hallam, is one of the five activists convicted for their role in the M25 protests. In a message from his prison cell he acknowledged that JSO has only had a "marginal impact". That is "not due to lack of trying," he said. The failure lay with the UK's "elites and our leaders" who had walked away from their responsibility to tackle the climate crisis, Hallam claimed. A hint perhaps that the group's new focus might be on the political system itself.JSO has said its last protest – to be held at the end of April – will mark "the end of soup on Van Goghs, cornstarch on Stonehenge and slow marching in the streets". But don't believe it. When pressed, the JSO members I spoke to said they may well turn back to disruptive tactics but under a new name and with a new and as yet unspecified objective.

Amid Trump Cuts, Climate Researchers Wait for the Ax to Fall

Climate experts whose research is funded by federal grants hide, whisper and wait for their jobs to disappear

Climate Researchers Wait for the Ax to FallClimate experts whose research is funded by federal grants hide, whisper and wait for their jobs to disappearBy Ariel Wittenberg, Chelsea Harvey & E&E News The Trump administration has slashed jobs and funding at the National Institutes of Health. Mark Wilson/Newsmakers/Getty ImagesCLIMATEWIRE | The National Institutes of Health has canceled grants for research on diversity, Covid-19 and vaccines. Climate scientists are hoping their work won’t be next — but fear it could be.“We are holding our breaths because we know we are on their list of targets,” said Marsha Wills-Karp, chair of the Johns Hopkins University Department of Environmental Health and Engineering. “It feels like it’s been slash and burn. We are hopeful they won’t get to climate, but we know it’s not likely.”Researchers in her department have received NIH grants to study the effects of wildfire air pollution on preterm birth rates and how hotter weather is affecting the health of babies at birth, measured by their weight and potential complications. They’re also studying how climate change is affecting nutrition.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.At the University of Washington, Kristie Ebi is fearful that NIH could cut grants that fund studies about which populations are more vulnerable to extreme heat — a project that the team is planning to expand to include the dangers of wildfire smoke.“We’re working to provide information that departments of health, communities and individuals can use,” Ebi said. “The more you know, the more of those lives you can save.”None of those programs haven’t been cut yet. But there’s reason to think they could be, and soon.Earlier this week, ProPublica reported on an internal NIH memo that outlined how the agency will no longer fund research on the health effects of climate change. It followed a story in Mother Jones showing that NIH had ended three climate-related programs, including the Climate Change and Health Initiative. The program was created in 2022 and has had annual congressional appropriations of $40 million, according to a December NIH report that was taken offline by the agency earlier this year.“HHS is taking action to terminate research funding that is not aligned with NIH and HHS priorities,” said Emily Hilliard, a department spokesperson.“As we begin to Make America Healthy Again, it’s important to prioritize research that directly affects the health of Americans,” she added. “We will leave no stone unturned in identifying the root cause of the chronic disease epidemic as part of our mission to Make America Healthy Again.”She did not respond to questions about whether HHS believes that research into the health effects of heat and other types of extreme weather are aligned with agency priorities or whether HHS believes that heat waves affect the health of Americans. NIH did not respond to a request for comment.Heat is the No. 1 weather-related killer in the U.S., according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, an agency within HHS. Heat caused or contributed to at least 2,300 deaths in 2023, CDC records show.In addition to turbocharging temperatures, climate change can affect people's health by increasing the prevalence of vector-borne diseases and the number of wildfires, whose smoke has been shown to increase asthma and cause cardiovascular problems.Those connections have long been studied with funding from the National Institutes of Environmental Health Sciences. Then in 2022, NIH broadened the scope of federal funding for climate health research, directing each of the agency’s 26 centers and institutes to study the dangers of climate change. At the time, the agency said “a mounting number of assessments and reports provide undeniable evidence that climate change is resulting in … direct and indirect consequences for human health and well-being.”Most of the climate researchers contacted by POLITICO's E&E News declined to talk publicly about their funding, citing concerns about their grants being rescinded if they spoke to the media.One researcher who was awarded federal funding said some experts in the climate and health field are pausing work related to their grants, like hiring.Others have turned down speaking requests because they're concerned about attracting attention from the Trump administration. Their work often focuses on how extreme weather has disproportional effects on the health of communities of color, according to several researchers who were granted anonymity for fear of retribution. One said that they declined a speaking invitation to avoid “accidentally us[ing] language we are not supposed to and then be told our language is not compliant with various executive orders” on diversity and equality.“We’ve been told we need to comply with those executive orders as federal grantees, but it’s hard to do if you are funded for something that the name is something you are not allowed to say,” the researcher said. “No one wants to do a social media post or a webinar or an event that might get them in trouble.”An annual conference hosted by NIH, Boston University and the Harvard School of Public Health was postponed earlier this month.Linda Birnbaum, who led the National Institutes of Environmental Health Sciences until 2017, said that during the first Trump administration, researchers were able to circumvent directives by wording grant applications as “climate and health” rather than “climate change.”“It worked then. I don’t think that will work anymore,” she said.Reprinted from E&E News with permission from POLITICO, LLC. Copyright 2025. E&E News provides essential news for energy and environment professionals.

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