'Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.'
― Mark Twain
Merchants of Doubt: How a Handful of Scientists Obscured the Truth on Issues from Tobacco Smoke to Global Warming
Naomi Oreskes & Erik M. Conway
Published: Feb 26, 2015
Category: Non Fiction
THE WEEK IN REVIEW
Jamie Oliver’s Cake Tin
Kevin Sessums: I Left It On the Mountain
Andy Palacio and the Garifuna Collective
The environmental headlines this week were about the President’s veto of the bill to authorize the Keystone XL pipeline. That was predictable. The bigger news, I suggest, was the story about Wei-Hock (“Willy”) Soon, a scientist at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. As The New York Times reported, Soon “has accepted more than $1.2 million in money from the fossil-fuel industry over the last decade while failing to disclose that conflict of interest in most of his scientific papers. At least 11 papers he has published since 2008 omitted such a disclosure, and in at least eight of those cases, he appears to have violated ethical guidelines of the journals that published his work.”
Soon made his money as a denier of climate change. He’s like the “expert witnesses” you sometimes see on “Law & Order” — paid to agree with his client’s position. In Soon’s case, his clients included Exxon Mobil, which paid him $335,000, and the American Petroleum Institute, which paid him $274,000, and — no surprise — the Charles G. Koch Foundation, which paid him $230,000. Other donors kicked in $324,000 through an anonymous trust.
Willie Soon is not the first scientist to capitalize on industry’s desire not to be regulated. In the 1970s and 1980s, Frederick Seitz — President-Emeritus at Rockefeller University and a past president of the U.S. National Academy of Science — was paid $585,000 by R.J. Reynolds to dispute any link between tobacco and cancer. And there were others.
When you hear the usual political and media spokesmen paint the President as a “job killer” and then you dig a little and discover that Keystone would have created just 35 permanent jobs, you may be curious to learn where “facts” like that come from. Meet the “merchants of doubt.”
I have read many books that infuriated me, and I was glad for the experience. It’s good to get pissed off at injustice, fictional or real, and come away energized, eager to do your small part in correcting whatever wrong the book exposed. "Merchants of Doubt: How a Handful of Scientists Obscured the Truth on Issues from Tobacco Smoke to Global Warming" is brilliantly reported and written with brutal clarity, but it’s left me with a different reaction — frustration that lobbyists and “experts” have blocked most meaningful steps to avert environment disaster and will continue to do so until millions are afflicted with skin cancer and the wheat fields are bone dry and the poor are fighting in the streets for water. Bet on it: In the very last minute of the very last hour of humanity’s very last day on earth, a scientist on the payroll of an oil or coal company — most likely a scientist who has no expertise in environmental matters and whose scientific contributions ended decades ago — will be saying “There’s still doubt about global warming.”
Naomi Oreskes is a real scientist and historian. When she co-authored this book, she was Professor of History and Science Studies at the University of California, San Diego; now she’s at Harvard. Her books include "Plate Tectonics: An Insider’s History of the Modern Theory of the Earth," cited by Library Journal as one of the best science and technology books of 2002. A few years ago, she tired of the Bush administration’s insistence that "most" scientists disagree with the notion of global warming, so she did what a real scientist does — she read every single piece of science written on the subject to see what "most" scientists said about it. [To buy the paperback from Amazon, click here. For the Kindle edition, click here.]
Not one of them called it a "theory." Her conclusion:
No scientific conclusion can ever be proven, absolutely, but it is no more a ‘belief’ to say that Earth is heating up than it is to say that continents move, that germs cause disease, that DNA carries hereditary information or that quarks are the basic building blocks of subatomic matter. You can always find someone, somewhere, to disagree, but these conclusions represent our best available science, and therefore our best basis for reasoned action.
This book, written with science journalist Erik Conway, is about the absence of reasoned action — and not just when the issue is global warming. The real shocker of this book is that it takes us, in just 274 brisk pages, through seven scientific issues that called for decisive government regulation and didn’t get it, sometimes for decades, because a few scientists sprinkled doubt-dust in the offices of regulators, politicians and journalists. Suddenly the issue had two sides. Better not to do anything until we know more.
Truth in science is a process: research, followed by scientific writing, followed by peer review. In this way, mistakes are corrected, findings refined, validity confirmed. But the interests of scientists on the payroll of, say, R.J. Reynolds Tobacco wasn’t truth. “They were not interested in finding facts,” Oreskes and Conway write. “They were interested in fighting them.
Here’s the absolute stunner — some of the scientists who were on the payroll of tobacco companies turn out to be the very same scientists now working for oil and coal companies to create confusion about global warming.
Why you may ask, would scientists who once had impressive reputations pose as “experts” on topics which they have no history of expertise?
Frederick Seitz and Fred Singer — the most visible of the tobacco-causes-cancer and man-causes-global-warming deniers — were both physicists. Long ago, Seitz helped built the atomic bomb; long ago, Singer developed satellites. Both were politically conservative. Both supported the War in Vietnam and politicians who were obsessed with the Soviet threat. Both were patriots who believed that defending business had something to do with defending freedom. And both were beneficiaries of the strategy that John Hill, Chairman and CEO of the Hill & Knowlton public relations firm, laid out for tobacco executives in 1953: “Scientific doubts should remain.” The way to encourage doubt? Call for “more research” — and fund it.
You can imagine what this did to media coverage in our country. As early as the 1930s, German scientists had shown that cigarettes caused lung cancer. (No one smoked around Hitler.) By the early 1960s, scientists working for American tobacco companies agreed — nicotine was “addictive” and its smoke was “carcinogenic.” But the incessant call for more research and “balanced” journalism kept the smoking controversy alive until 2006, when a federal judge found the tobacco industry guilty under the RICO statute (that is, guilty of a criminal pattern of fraud.) Fifty years of doubt! Impressive.
“The tobacco road would lead through Star Wars, nuclear winter, acid rain and the ozone hole, all the way to global warming,” Oreskes and Conway write. You may want to read the tobacco stories, skim the middle chapters, and then re-focus on global warming, the subject of the book’s second half. There you can thrill to the argument that the sun is to blame. You can revel in the attacks on environmental scientists (they’re all Luddites, and some are probably pinkos). You can see politics trump science. (The attack on Rachel Carson, who first alerted us to the dangers of DDT, is especially potent. In a novel, Michael Crichton had a character say,”Banning DDT killed more people than Hitler. It was so safe you could eat it.”) Fifty-six “environmentally skeptical” books were published in the 1990s — and 92% of them were linked to a network of right-wing foundations.
I try to have compassion for the failings of others, hoping that they might have compassion for my failings, but I have trouble thinking that these scientists and the CEOs who hired them were misguided or confused or even blinded by the incessant need for profit. I now think there really might be such a thing as Evil. In their book, Oreskes and Conway do a great public service — they give us their names of the villains and tell us their stories.
The hardest thing to invent is the obvious. Like clothes you can wear on the plane and then to the restaurant, clothes you can take out of a gym bag and wear to the office — wouldn’t it be nice. So Evelyn Frison and Yehua Yang are launching Pivotte, the first line of high-performance clothes that can take women from work to play to travel. Made in New York. Eco-friendly. I support this Kickstarter.
a two to three pound farm-raised chicken
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons minced thyme (optional)
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Rinse the chicken, then dry it very well with paper towels, inside and out. The less it steams, the drier the heat, the better.
Salt and pepper the cavity, then truss the bird. Trussing is not difficult, and if you roast chicken often, it’s a good technique to feel comfortable with. When you truss a bird, the wings and legs stay close to the body; the ends of the drumsticks cover the top of the breast and keep it from drying out. Trussing helps the chicken to cook evenly, and it also makes for a more beautiful roasted bird.
Salt the chicken. I rain the salt over the bird so that it has a nice uniform coating that will result in a crisp, salty, flavorful skin (about 1 tablespoon). When it’s cooked, you should still be able to make out the salt baked onto the crisp skin. Season to taste with pepper.
Place the chicken in a sauté pan or roasting pan and, when the oven is up to temperature, put the chicken in the oven. I leave it alone — I don’t baste it, I don’t add butter; you can if you wish, but I feel this creates steam, which I don’t want. Roast it until it’s done, 50 to 60 minutes. Remove it from the oven and add the thyme, if using, to the pan. Baste the chicken with the juices and thyme and let it rest for 15 minutes on a cutting board.
Remove the twine. Separate the middle wing joint and eat that immediately. Remove the legs and thighs. I like to take off the backbone and eat one of the oysters, the two succulent morsels of meat embedded here, and give the other to the person I’m cooking with. But I take the chicken butt for myself. I could never understand why my brothers always fought over that triangular tip—until one day I got the crispy, juicy fat myself. These are the cook’s rewards. Cut the breast down the middle and serve it on the bone, with one wing joint still attached to each. The preparation is not meant to be super-elegant. Slather the meat with fresh butter. Serve with mustard on the side and, if you wish, a simple green salad. You’ll start using a knife and fork, but finish with your fingers, because it’s so good.
Having completed a long and generally unhappy slog through the Oscar-nominated films, my wife and I found ourselves leaving home on a frigid Saturday night to see The Best Film of the New Year — “Paddington.” You mock. Well, the joke’s on you. “Paddington” is considerably more — what’s the word we rarely hear about movies? — enjoyable than any of the films you’re supposed to be obsessing about. That is: sophisticated, witty, sly, original. Even beautiful. Entertaining in every possible way. The Times: “a knockout blend of fluid animation and live action.” Audience reviews: It’s the 3rd top grossing film of the weekend. Our puberty-ravaged 13-year-old texted us: “You’re seeing this without me? Mean!” So we’re going again. Happily.
Obligatory Blog Roll
- Andrew Tobias
- New York
- Manhattan User’s Guide
- Show Biz
- Roger Friedman
- New York Social Diary
- Jeffrey Rubin
- Designer Previews