Battling for the right name: thinking about climate 'sceptics'

Getting the name of your movement right is crucial. Can you imagine waking up one morning, as a campaigner for the right of women to have abortions, to realise that the other side had just called their campaign Pro-Life? How can you counter that, without seeming somehow ‘anti life’? So Pro-Choice was born. It’s a good attempt, but can’t help but sound like a compromise, like second best. Fairtrade is another example, which shows that sometimes the liberals get in first. By labelling ethically traded goods as ‘fair’, the strong implication is that everything that is not so labelled is (by definition, indeed) unfair. (There was even a suggestion, which I rather like, on Mark Thomas’s Radio 4 political comedy The Manifesto that all goods which do not carry the ‘FairTrade’ logo should be labelled ‘Unfair Trade’…) Of course, what some of the big importers of coffee, chocolate, tropical fruit and so on have done is to introduce their own brand of fair trade (without actually signing up to the binding conditions that the fair trade label requires; ‘not-quite-as-unfair-as-usual-trade’, if you like), but again, it feels like they’ve been caught on the hop.

The reason I bring this up is because of the shameless commandeering of the word ‘sceptic’ by those who refuse to accept the evidence that Earth’s climate is changing as a consequence of human actions.

Now, I happen to think that the term ‘sceptic’ is a very complimentary one. As a child in Sunday School, I was always kind of proud to share a name with the only sceptical disciple (an early sign, perhaps, that I was bound for the scientific rather than the clerical life…) And I certainly believe that one has to earn the title ‘sceptic’ (although there might be exceptions: I remember a report in the local press when I was a kid, of a star rugby player forced to miss a game with a ‘sceptic toe’…).

By all reasonable definitions of the term, all of us scientists should aspire to be sceptics. But even the most fervent sceptic should be swayed by the weight of evidence (my biblical namesake, after all, was finally convinced by the evidence of his eyes and fingers). So, I would like to think of myself as a climate change sceptic: I have critically considered the evidence, and the most parsimonious (i.e. sceptical) position is that anthropogenic emissions of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases are having a profound effect on the Earth’s climate, biogeochemistry, and ecology.

But, us proper sceptics have been gazumped: the term ‘climate sceptic’ is now irreversibly associated with a different kind of sceptical approach. One which cherry picks facts to match an argument, and ignores all evidence to the contrary – even when this contrary evidence far outweighs the favourable evidence in terms of both quality and quantity. One which gives more credence to internet rumours than to peer-reviewed (i.e., quality controlled) scientific research. A definition of ‘sceptical’ which is, in fact, indistinguishable from ‘credulous’.

What can we do? We need a name that encompasses proper scientific scepticism, to counter this false-sceptic meme. To date, the argument has usually been framed as between climate scientists and climate sceptics, but this is misleading – it suggests that the ‘sceptics’ are some kind of independent scrutinising body, overseeing the scientific process. To return to the example I started with, it’s kind of like pitting ‘pro-life’ against ‘the medical establishment’; there’s a non-equivalence there.

My suggestion? Well, it’s tricky, because most candidates have already been snapped up by the brand-savvy ‘sceptics’. I’d originally thought of ‘climate realist’ as an umbrella term which suggests scepticism, pragmatism, and a certain down-to-earthness; but it turns out there’s a different kind of realist (read: fantasist) already… So what about ‘climate thinkers’?

I would love to see a news programme pitting a ‘renowned climate sceptic’ (Nigel Lawson, say) against a ‘respected climate thinker’ – perhaps Nicholas Stern, or David King, or Paul Nurse, or any other true sceptic.

Foundation Papers

I was musing recently on the papers that have had made the biggest impression on me at various points in my career. Although we might all agree on a selection of ‘classic’ papers in any one discipline, those which have been most formative for me constitute a very personal selection. Timing, I realised, was everything: some papers just hit my desk at a very opportune moment. I’ve published this list in the British Ecological Society’s Bulletin, but invite you to add comments and suggestions here. I’ll pass suitable ecological ones over to the Bulletin editor. Kunin, W.E. & K.J. Gaston 1993. The biology of rarity: patterns, causes and consequences. TREE 8: 298-301
As a fresh-faced ecology graduate from UEA, I found my first gainful employment as a research assistant to John Reynolds, collating data on life history correlates of rarity and extinction risk in European freshwater fish. One day, John passed me Bill and Kevin’s book on The Biology of Rarity, which seemed particularly relevant to the task, containing as it did a series of papers on the biological differences between rare and common species. When I saw advertised a PhD, with Kevin and Bill, on Evolutionary Causes and Consequences of Rarity, well – it seemed almost rude not to apply. I did, I got it, and a mere dozen years later here I am. The book was spawned from this earlier review article, so you could say this started it all.

Jablonski, D. 1987. Heritability at the species level: analysis of geographic ranges of Cretaceous mollusks. Science 238: 360-363
This had a profound influence on me, despite – or more accurately, because – of the fact that I disagree with it in several key respects. Jablonski uses data on the distribution of fossil molluscs to show that having a large geographic range size influences the lifespan of a species, in terms of its duration in the fossil record. More contentiously, he also claims that geographic range is, in effect, heritable at the species level, based on what looked to me like very dubious relationships between the range sizes of ancestor and descendant species. Exploring this scepticism vastly expanded my understanding of both statistics and geographic ranges. It also added the ‘Ph’ into my PhD, as I delved into the philosophy of hierarchical theories of natural selection. I still think he was wrong about range size heritability, but am grateful that this paper pushed me to find out why.

Freckleton, R.P., J.A. Gill, D. Noble & A.R. Watkinson 2005. Large-scale population dynamics, abundance-occupancy relationships and the scaling from local to regional population size. J Animal Ecology 74: 353-364.
The impact of this paper on me is two-fold. First, after the first decade or so of macroecology had proved so successful at identifying patterns and relationships emergent at large spatial scales, there was a risk of the field stagnating into a series of scatter plots with straight lines forced through great clouds of points. The BES symposium organised in 2002 by Kevin Gaston and Tim Blackburn provided the impetus for a flurry of new thinking, epitomised I think by Rob’s paper. It is difficult to say whether it is downscaling macroecology, by delving into the population-dynamic mechanisms driving the abundance-occupancy relationship; or upscaling population biology, by depicting its large-scale consequences. Either way, the theoretical basis presented here opens the door to a more predictive macroecology. The second, more prosaic reason for including this paper: Rob’s thinking about these issues coincided with me looking for a job; the ideas presented here led to an important post-doctoral position for me.

Pauly, D. 1995. Anecdotes and the shifting baseline syndrome of fisheries. TREE 10: 430.
At just a single page, this is the shortest paper in my selection; but it seems to me more important with every passing year. There are two key messages: first, that if we judge the ‘natural’ state of an ecosystem as that which we remember from our youth, then the ‘baseline’ of what, collectively, we think of as ‘pristine’ will shift over the generations. Jared Diamond later coined the term ‘creeping normalcy’ to describe the same phenomenon, but Pauly was there first (and with a more elegant term!). Pauly’s second insight was that, in the absence of very long time series of ecological data, one way around the shifting baseline problem is to use anecdotal evidence. He quotes, for instance, the example of his colleague’s grandfather, who in the 1920s was irritated by the (then worthless) bluefin tuna tangling his mackerel nets set in the Kattegat – a situation that seems remarkable when, in January this year, a 342kg bluefin sold for £250,000 in Tokyo. Pauly states that “this observation is as factual as a temperature record”, which raises profound questions about the meaning of ‘data’ in historical ecology.

Jackson, J.B.C. 2001. What was natural in the coastal oceans? PNAS 98: 5411-5418.
Several people have taken Pauly’s idea and run with it, for instance Callum Roberts in his recent book, The Unnatural History of the Sea. Jeremy Jackson is one such. I’ve been fortunate to see Jackson talk on several occasions now, and he has the knack – apparent in this paper – of being both profoundly depressing and inspiring at the same time. How can one not be inspired by his evocation of the vast herds of green turtles and manatees in Central America? And yet depressed by the processes that have led to their current parlous state. In this paper, Jackson uses the kinds of anecdotes championed by Pauly, including things such as ships’ logbooks and archaeological records, and combines them with a deal of ecological understanding, some back-of-the-envelope calculations, and not inconsiderable chutzpah to tell a story of the lost riches of our coastal ecosystems. The inspiration comes from the thought that it’s not too late to recapture some of this; the marine megafauna are largely still with us.

Jennings, S. & J.L. Blanchard 2004. Fish abundance with no fishing: predictions based on macroecological theory. J Animal Ecology 73: 632-642.
Uniting the macroecology with the marine ecology covered in the previous papers, where Pauly and Jackson used anecdotes, Simon Jennings and Julia Blanchard apply some more quantitative rigour to reconstructing an idealised, unexploited North Sea fish community. By using a theoretically derived, empirically verified relationship between abundance and body mass, they are able to estimate the expected biomass of fishes of different sizes in the North Sea, in the absence of exploitation by fisheries. The statistical results are no less striking than the vivid pictures painted by Jackson: fish weighing over 4kg are well over 95% less abundant than theory predicts that they ‘should’ be, a difference entirely due to our propensity to extract, batter and eat such big fish. I really like the application of something so apparently theoretical (analysis of size spectra) to such a tangible real-world example.

So there we go: my academic life in half a dozen papers. I actually feel quite exposed, and doubtless am leaving myself open to various unfavourable judgements. Not an experiment among them, for instance – which I think just means that it tends to be the more polemical pieces that stick with me. I suspect there is little overlap between my selection, and any that you might make, but that’s kind of the point.

In praise of the messenger: cheers, SeaWiFS

I’m primarily a desk-based ecologist, which means I am reliant on the hard work of others to generate the data on which I work. I think all those in my position have a very healthy respect for the field workers who brave all kinds of adverse conditions to collect samples, and then put in the tedious hours ID-ing organisms, inputting data, cross checking and quality controlling, to deliver exceptional quantitative information to answer the fundamental ecological questions of ‘how many individuals of how many species occur at different points in space?’ The secondary step of large-scale synthesis and analysis often involves combining these kinds of data with information on environmental parameters, and this I think is where we can start taking the data for granted. We just assume that environmental data will be there – things like sea surface temperature, NAO index, or whatever. In recent years, remote sensing has contributed to a huge repository of environmental data, and again we are often guilty of taking this phenomenal resource of satellite-derived information for granted.

So, in an attempt to redress the balance, at least in part, I’d like to pay tribute to the Sea-viewing Wide Field-of-view Sensor (SeaWiFS) project, which has just ended as communication was lost with the spacecraft. SeaWiFS aimed to “develop and operate a research data system that will process, calibrate, validate, archive and distribute data received from an Earth-orbiting ocean color sensor”, and delivered in spades.

The Amazon rainforest is often referred to as the lungs of the world, but actually a large proportion of the global plant biomass is made up of marine phytoplankton, and so understanding how the distribution, abundance and photosynthetic activity of these microscopic marine plants varies in time and space is essential in order to understand the functioning of the earth system. As scientists, this fundamental understanding might be sufficient justification in itself for lauding SeaWiFS; but of course the questions become still more pertinent when we start to think about the carbon cycle in the context of global climate change.

So, since 1997 SeaWiFS generated data to “help clarify the magnitude and variability of chlorophyll and primary production by marine phytoplankton, and to determine the distribution and timing of spring blooms, i.e., the time of highly abundant growth.” Initially expected to last for 5 years, the mission went on and on delivering these vital data for over 13 years. A quick ISI search reveals 1686 publications (for fans of the h index, 58 of the 1686 papers have been cited ≥58 times), testifying to the scientific value of this project. As is typical of NASA, data availability is second to none, and there’s some great summaries of SeaWiFS highlights online. But the brief testimony of Gene C. Feldman from NASA brought home to me that the physical reality of space-based Earth observation is every bit as challenging and inspiring as the ecologist sifting through sediment samples on board a pitching vessel:

The end of an incredible era. I am very sorry to have to report the news that after nearly two months of intensive research and numerous attempts at communication with the spacecraft, GeoEye has determined that the SeaWiFS mission is no longer recoverable. While this is certainly not the outcome that we were all hoping for, the international scientific community certainly could not have asked for a more tenacious little spacecraft and instrument that has served us so well for the past 13+ years. Not bad for a spacecraft and mission that so many people thought would never get off the ground let alone make it through the projected 5 year mission life. We will be putting together a little feature this week on the OceanColor website about this wonderful little instrument but I wanted to pass along a couple of photographs that gave us our last look at the spacecraft and instrument as it was being prepared for launch on a hot summer day back in August 1997. Thanks to everyone for all their incredible support over the years and I have no doubt that this data set will continue to provide new discoveries and insights into the workings of this incredible planet that we call home. With my very best regards, gene