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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

Tour operator Intrepid drops carbon offsets and emissions targets

Firm will instead invest A$2m a year in ‘climate impact fund’ supporting renewables and switching to EVsOne of the travel industry’s most environmentally focused tour operators, Intrepid, is scrapping carbon offsets and abandoning its emissions targets as unreachable.The Australian-headquartered global travel company said it will instead invest A$2m a year in an audited “climate impact fund” supporting immediate practical measures such as switching to electric vehicles and investing in renewable energy. Continue reading...

One of the travel industry’s most environmentally focused tour operators, Intrepid, is scrapping carbon offsets and abandoning its emissions targets as unreachable.The Australian-headquartered global travel company said it will instead invest A$2m a year in an audited “climate impact fund” supporting immediate practical measures such as switching to electric vehicles and investing in renewable energy.Intrepid, which specialises in small group tours, said it was stopping carbon offsets and “stepping away” from the Science Based Targets initiative (SBTi), after having committed to 2030 goals monitored by the climate-certification organisation five years ago.In an open letter to staff, the Intrepid co-founder and chair, Darrell Wade, and the chief executive, James Thornton, told staff: “Intrepid, and frankly the entire travel industry, is not on track to achieve a 1.5C future, and more urgent action is required if we are to get even close.”While Intrepid’s brand focuses on the low impact of its group tours, it has long conceded that its bigger footprint is the flights its customers take to reach them, with Wade also admitting two years ago that its offsets were “not credible”.The letter blamed governments that “failed to act on ambitious policies on renewable energy or sustainable aviation fuels that support the scale of change that is required”, adding: “We are not comfortable maintaining a target that we know we won’t meet.”Thornton said the change should build trust through transparency rather than losing customers by admitting its climate pledges had not worked. He told the Guardian: “We were the first global tour operator to adopt a science-based target through the SBTi and now we’re owning the fact that it’s not working for us. We’ve always been real and transparent, which is how we build trust.”He said the fund and a new target to cut the “carbon intensity” of each trip had been developed by climate scientists and would be verified by independent auditors.Part of that attempt would be to reduce the number of long-haul flights taken by customers, Thornton said, by prioritising domestic and short-haul trips, and offering more flight-free itineraries and walking or trekking tours.Environmental campaigners have long dismissed offsets and focused on cutting flying. Dr Douglas Parr, the Greenpeace UK chief scientist, said offsetting schemes had allowed “airlines and other big polluters to falsely claim green credentials while continuing to pump out emissions”.He said Greenpeace backed a frequent flyer levy, with a first flight each year tax-free to avoid taxing an annual family holiday but rising steeply with subsequent flights to deter “the binge flyers who are the main engine of growth for UK flights”.Intrepid’s Thornton said he saw “first-hand how important meaningful climate action is to our founders and owners, who see it as part of their legacy”, but added: “We need to be honest with ourselves that travel is not sustainable in its current format and anything suggesting otherwise is greenwashing.”

Trump’s coal bailout won’t solve the data center power crunch

The Trump administration is spending more than half a billion dollars to help prop up the dying coal industry. It’s also weakening pollution regulations and opening up more federal land to coal mining. All of this isn’t likely to save the industry—and also isn’t likely to do much to meet the surging demand for power from data centers for AI. Coal power is expensive, and that isn’t going to change Aging coal power plants are now so expensive to run that hundreds have retired over the last decade, including around 100 that retired or made plans to retire during Trump’s first term. Offering relatively small subsidies isn’t likely to change the long-term trend. “I don’t think it’s going to change the underlying economics,” says Michelle Solomon, a manager in the electricity program at the think tank Energy Innovation. “The reasons why coal has increased in cost will continue to be fundamentally true.” The cost of coal power grew 28% between 2021 and 2024, or more than double the rate of inflation. One reason is age: the average coal power plant in the U.S. is around 50 years old, and they aren’t designed to last much longer. Because renewable energy is cheaper, and regulation is likely to ramp up in the future, investors don’t see building new coal power plants as viable. But trying to keep outdated plants running also doesn’t make economic sense. The new funding can’t go very far. The Department of Energy plans to spend $625 million on coal projects, including $350 million to recommission and retrofit old plants. Another $25 million is set aside for retrofitting coal plants with natural gas co-firing systems. But that type of project can cost hundreds of millions or even a billion dollars for a single plant. (The $25 million, presumably, might only cover planning or a small pilot.) Other retrofits might only extend the life of a power plant by a few years. Because the plants will continue to be expensive to run, some power plant owners may not think the subsidies are worth it. Utilities want to move on If coal power plants keep running past their retirement age, even with some retrofits, costs keep going up for consumers. “That’s something that you really see in states that continue to rely on coal for a big part of their electricity mix,” says Solomon. “Like Kentucky and West Virginia, who have had their cost for power increase at some of the fastest rates in the country.” In Michigan, earlier this year, the DOE forced a coal power plant to stay open after it was scheduled to retire. The DOE cited an “emergency,” though neither the grid operator nor the utility said that there were power supply issues; the planned retirement of the plant included building new sources of energy to replace it. The utility reported to the SEC that within the first 38 days, alone, it spent $29 million to keep the plant running. (The emergency order is still in place, and being challenged by multiple lawsuits.) The extra expense shows up on consumers’ bills. One report estimates that by 2028, efforts to keep large power plants from retiring could cost consumers more than $3 billion a year. Utilities have long acknowledged the reality that there are less expensive energy sources. In the first Trump administration, in 2018, utilities resisted Trump’s attempts to use emergency powers to keep uneconomic coal plants open. When utilities plan to retire a power plant, there’s a long planning process. Plants begin making decision to defer maintenance that would otherwise be necessary. And many won’t want to reverse their decisions. It’s true that demand for power from data centers has led some utilities to keep coal plants online longer—and electric bills are already soaring in areas near large data centers. But Trump’s incentives may not make much difference for others. The last coal plant in New England just shut down years early, despite the current outlook for data centers. “Utilities do have to take a long-term view,” says Lori Bird, director of the U.S. energy program at the nonprofit World Resources Institute. “They’re doing multi-year planning. So they consider the durability and economic viability of these assets over the longer term. They have not been economic, and they’re also the highest-emitting greenhouse gas facilities.” Even if the Trump administration has rolled back environmental regulations, she says, future administrations could reverse that; continuing to use coal is a risky proposition. In most states, utilities also have to comply with renewable power goals. There are better solutions It’s true that the U.S. needs more power generation, quickly. It’s not clear exactly how much new electricity will be needed—some of that will depend on how much AI is a bubble and how much tech companies can shrink their power usage at data centers. But the nonprofit Rewiring America calculated that data centers that are under construction or in planning could add 93 gigawatts of electricity demand to the U.S. grid by the end of the decade. The nonprofit argues that some or even all of that new capacity could be covered by rooftop solar and batteries at homes. Cheap utility-scale renewable power plants could obviously also help, though the Trump administration is actively fighting them. Battery storage can help provide 24/7 energy. One analysis of a retiring coal plant in Maryland found that it would be less expensive to replace it with batteries and transmission upgrades than to keep it running. Temporarily saving a handful of coal power plants won’t cover the new power needs. It would add to air pollution, water pollution, and climate pollution. And it would significantly push up power bills when consumers are already struggling. Real support for an “energy emergency” would include faster permitting and other work to accelerate building affordable renewable energy, experts say. “Making sure that resources can compete openly is really important,” says Solomon. “It’s important to not only meet the demand from AI, but make sure that it doesn’t raise costs for electricity consumers.”

The Trump administration is spending more than half a billion dollars to help prop up the dying coal industry. It’s also weakening pollution regulations and opening up more federal land to coal mining. All of this isn’t likely to save the industry—and also isn’t likely to do much to meet the surging demand for power from data centers for AI. Coal power is expensive, and that isn’t going to change Aging coal power plants are now so expensive to run that hundreds have retired over the last decade, including around 100 that retired or made plans to retire during Trump’s first term. Offering relatively small subsidies isn’t likely to change the long-term trend. “I don’t think it’s going to change the underlying economics,” says Michelle Solomon, a manager in the electricity program at the think tank Energy Innovation. “The reasons why coal has increased in cost will continue to be fundamentally true.” The cost of coal power grew 28% between 2021 and 2024, or more than double the rate of inflation. One reason is age: the average coal power plant in the U.S. is around 50 years old, and they aren’t designed to last much longer. Because renewable energy is cheaper, and regulation is likely to ramp up in the future, investors don’t see building new coal power plants as viable. But trying to keep outdated plants running also doesn’t make economic sense. The new funding can’t go very far. The Department of Energy plans to spend $625 million on coal projects, including $350 million to recommission and retrofit old plants. Another $25 million is set aside for retrofitting coal plants with natural gas co-firing systems. But that type of project can cost hundreds of millions or even a billion dollars for a single plant. (The $25 million, presumably, might only cover planning or a small pilot.) Other retrofits might only extend the life of a power plant by a few years. Because the plants will continue to be expensive to run, some power plant owners may not think the subsidies are worth it. Utilities want to move on If coal power plants keep running past their retirement age, even with some retrofits, costs keep going up for consumers. “That’s something that you really see in states that continue to rely on coal for a big part of their electricity mix,” says Solomon. “Like Kentucky and West Virginia, who have had their cost for power increase at some of the fastest rates in the country.” In Michigan, earlier this year, the DOE forced a coal power plant to stay open after it was scheduled to retire. The DOE cited an “emergency,” though neither the grid operator nor the utility said that there were power supply issues; the planned retirement of the plant included building new sources of energy to replace it. The utility reported to the SEC that within the first 38 days, alone, it spent $29 million to keep the plant running. (The emergency order is still in place, and being challenged by multiple lawsuits.) The extra expense shows up on consumers’ bills. One report estimates that by 2028, efforts to keep large power plants from retiring could cost consumers more than $3 billion a year. Utilities have long acknowledged the reality that there are less expensive energy sources. In the first Trump administration, in 2018, utilities resisted Trump’s attempts to use emergency powers to keep uneconomic coal plants open. When utilities plan to retire a power plant, there’s a long planning process. Plants begin making decision to defer maintenance that would otherwise be necessary. And many won’t want to reverse their decisions. It’s true that demand for power from data centers has led some utilities to keep coal plants online longer—and electric bills are already soaring in areas near large data centers. But Trump’s incentives may not make much difference for others. The last coal plant in New England just shut down years early, despite the current outlook for data centers. “Utilities do have to take a long-term view,” says Lori Bird, director of the U.S. energy program at the nonprofit World Resources Institute. “They’re doing multi-year planning. So they consider the durability and economic viability of these assets over the longer term. They have not been economic, and they’re also the highest-emitting greenhouse gas facilities.” Even if the Trump administration has rolled back environmental regulations, she says, future administrations could reverse that; continuing to use coal is a risky proposition. In most states, utilities also have to comply with renewable power goals. There are better solutions It’s true that the U.S. needs more power generation, quickly. It’s not clear exactly how much new electricity will be needed—some of that will depend on how much AI is a bubble and how much tech companies can shrink their power usage at data centers. But the nonprofit Rewiring America calculated that data centers that are under construction or in planning could add 93 gigawatts of electricity demand to the U.S. grid by the end of the decade. The nonprofit argues that some or even all of that new capacity could be covered by rooftop solar and batteries at homes. Cheap utility-scale renewable power plants could obviously also help, though the Trump administration is actively fighting them. Battery storage can help provide 24/7 energy. One analysis of a retiring coal plant in Maryland found that it would be less expensive to replace it with batteries and transmission upgrades than to keep it running. Temporarily saving a handful of coal power plants won’t cover the new power needs. It would add to air pollution, water pollution, and climate pollution. And it would significantly push up power bills when consumers are already struggling. Real support for an “energy emergency” would include faster permitting and other work to accelerate building affordable renewable energy, experts say. “Making sure that resources can compete openly is really important,” says Solomon. “It’s important to not only meet the demand from AI, but make sure that it doesn’t raise costs for electricity consumers.”

This innovative climate tech startup just moved its first big project from the U.S. to Canada after Trump cut its funding

At the beginning of this year, a climate tech startup called CarbonCapture was ready to break ground on its first commercial pilot at a site in Arizona. But the project is now about to open 2,700 miles away, in Alberta, Canada. The company started considering new locations shortly after the inauguration, as the political climate around climate projects quickly changed. “We were looking for regions where we felt we could get support for deployment,” says CarbonCapture CEO Adrian Corless. “Canada was an obvious choice given the existence of good government programs and incentives that are there.” [Photo: CarbonCapture] CarbonCapture makes modular direct air capture technology (DAC), units that remove CO2 from the air. In late March, reports came out that the Department of Energy (DOE) was considering cancelling grants for two other large DAC projects, including one in Louisiana that involved the company. By the end of May, by the time the DOE’s Office of Clean Energy Demonstrations announced that it was cancelling $3.7 billion in other grants, the startup had already signed an agreement with Deep Sky Alpha, a facility in Canada that is simultaneously deploying and testing multiple direct air capture projects to help the industry grow. The startup had already self-funded its planned project in Arizona and built the modules for the site. Because it didn’t rely on government funding for the project, it could have moved forward in the U.S. But it saw that it would be harder to move from the pilot to later commercial projects in Arizona. Now, it’s planning to build its first full commercial project in Canada as well. (The company wouldn’t disclose the cost for either project.) [Photo: CarbonCapture] “We just didn’t see a pathway in the U.S. to be able to show that linkage between doing a commercial pilot, starting to generate [carbon dioxide removal] credits and selling them, and then being able to raise the capital for something that’s much larger,” Corless says. Canada offers an investment tax credit of 60% for direct air capture equipment, plus an additional 12% for projects in Alberta, the heart of Canada’s oil and gas industry. The country also has strong support for R&D and first-of-a-kind deployments for early-stage companies, and multiple programs supporting climate tech specifically. The Canada Growth Fund, for example, is a $15 billion fund designed to advance decarbonization. And while Mark Carney, Canada’s prime minister, has taken steps backward on climate policy, he’s also said that he wants the country to be the “world’s leading energy superpower” both for conventional energy and clean energy. The situation in the U.S. is very different. Trump recently called climate change a “con job” in a speech to the United Nations. When Chris Wright, the energy secretary, recently canceled another $13 billion for renewable energy projects, he said, “if you can’t rock on your own after 33 years, maybe that’s not a business that’s going places,” despite the fact that fossil fuels have gotten subsidies from the U.S. for three times as long. Fossil fuel subsidies are now nearly $35 billion a year, or as much as $760 billion if you include health and environmental costs. Direct air capture tech arguably hasn’t been hit quite as hard as other forms of climate tech, like offshore wind power. When the “One Big Beautiful Bill” gutted other funding, from tax credits for EVs to solar panels, it left in place some credits that facilities can earn for capturing carbon as they operate. But the Department of Energy recently cut multiple grants that would have helped new DAC projects get built. One of the large projects CarbonCapture was supporting—the Louisiana facility previously under review, called Project Cypress—lost funding, and the company just received official notice of its cancellation. Corless says that the startup is still carefully watching what happens in D.C.—and the company still hasn’t made any announcements about whether it might move its whole company, not just particular projects. Right now, it’s headquartered in L.A. with around 50 employees. It also has a small factory for its equipment in Arizona, next to the site where it had planned to build its first carbon capture facility. [Photo: CarbonCapture] Moving the first project to Canada happened quickly. Five weeks ago, the site in Alberta was an empty field. Four weeks ago, the company shipped the modules it had built in Arizona to Canada. Construction crews have been finishing the final touches, and the company plans to begin commissioning the system next week. Deep Sky Alpha already had some key infrastructure in place, including access to solar power to run the equipment. The pilot will ultimately be able to capture 2,000 tons of CO2 a year, which will be buried underground. It’s possible that other companies might follow CarbonCapture’s move. “I think that there definitely are going to be several companies that are looking at the same data that we’re looking at,” Corless says. “And I think that it’s not lost on the Canadian government that they have an opportunity as well to step up and potentially take a leadership role in this space, which the U.S. has really owned for the last five years.” “The U.S. does have a real advantage, even without DOE support,” says Erin Burns, director at the nonprofit Carbon180. “But it’s very likely that uncertainty around DOE programs will weaken that edge. Some projects will move abroad. Some that might have thrived here will not. Others will achieve only a fraction of their potential. Each outcome is a setback on its own. Together they add up to millions, possibly billions, in lost investment and slower American innovation.”

At the beginning of this year, a climate tech startup called CarbonCapture was ready to break ground on its first commercial pilot at a site in Arizona. But the project is now about to open 2,700 miles away, in Alberta, Canada. The company started considering new locations shortly after the inauguration, as the political climate around climate projects quickly changed. “We were looking for regions where we felt we could get support for deployment,” says CarbonCapture CEO Adrian Corless. “Canada was an obvious choice given the existence of good government programs and incentives that are there.” [Photo: CarbonCapture] CarbonCapture makes modular direct air capture technology (DAC), units that remove CO2 from the air. In late March, reports came out that the Department of Energy (DOE) was considering cancelling grants for two other large DAC projects, including one in Louisiana that involved the company. By the end of May, by the time the DOE’s Office of Clean Energy Demonstrations announced that it was cancelling $3.7 billion in other grants, the startup had already signed an agreement with Deep Sky Alpha, a facility in Canada that is simultaneously deploying and testing multiple direct air capture projects to help the industry grow. The startup had already self-funded its planned project in Arizona and built the modules for the site. Because it didn’t rely on government funding for the project, it could have moved forward in the U.S. But it saw that it would be harder to move from the pilot to later commercial projects in Arizona. Now, it’s planning to build its first full commercial project in Canada as well. (The company wouldn’t disclose the cost for either project.) [Photo: CarbonCapture] “We just didn’t see a pathway in the U.S. to be able to show that linkage between doing a commercial pilot, starting to generate [carbon dioxide removal] credits and selling them, and then being able to raise the capital for something that’s much larger,” Corless says. Canada offers an investment tax credit of 60% for direct air capture equipment, plus an additional 12% for projects in Alberta, the heart of Canada’s oil and gas industry. The country also has strong support for R&D and first-of-a-kind deployments for early-stage companies, and multiple programs supporting climate tech specifically. The Canada Growth Fund, for example, is a $15 billion fund designed to advance decarbonization. And while Mark Carney, Canada’s prime minister, has taken steps backward on climate policy, he’s also said that he wants the country to be the “world’s leading energy superpower” both for conventional energy and clean energy. The situation in the U.S. is very different. Trump recently called climate change a “con job” in a speech to the United Nations. When Chris Wright, the energy secretary, recently canceled another $13 billion for renewable energy projects, he said, “if you can’t rock on your own after 33 years, maybe that’s not a business that’s going places,” despite the fact that fossil fuels have gotten subsidies from the U.S. for three times as long. Fossil fuel subsidies are now nearly $35 billion a year, or as much as $760 billion if you include health and environmental costs. Direct air capture tech arguably hasn’t been hit quite as hard as other forms of climate tech, like offshore wind power. When the “One Big Beautiful Bill” gutted other funding, from tax credits for EVs to solar panels, it left in place some credits that facilities can earn for capturing carbon as they operate. But the Department of Energy recently cut multiple grants that would have helped new DAC projects get built. One of the large projects CarbonCapture was supporting—the Louisiana facility previously under review, called Project Cypress—lost funding, and the company just received official notice of its cancellation. Corless says that the startup is still carefully watching what happens in D.C.—and the company still hasn’t made any announcements about whether it might move its whole company, not just particular projects. Right now, it’s headquartered in L.A. with around 50 employees. It also has a small factory for its equipment in Arizona, next to the site where it had planned to build its first carbon capture facility. [Photo: CarbonCapture] Moving the first project to Canada happened quickly. Five weeks ago, the site in Alberta was an empty field. Four weeks ago, the company shipped the modules it had built in Arizona to Canada. Construction crews have been finishing the final touches, and the company plans to begin commissioning the system next week. Deep Sky Alpha already had some key infrastructure in place, including access to solar power to run the equipment. The pilot will ultimately be able to capture 2,000 tons of CO2 a year, which will be buried underground. It’s possible that other companies might follow CarbonCapture’s move. “I think that there definitely are going to be several companies that are looking at the same data that we’re looking at,” Corless says. “And I think that it’s not lost on the Canadian government that they have an opportunity as well to step up and potentially take a leadership role in this space, which the U.S. has really owned for the last five years.” “The U.S. does have a real advantage, even without DOE support,” says Erin Burns, director at the nonprofit Carbon180. “But it’s very likely that uncertainty around DOE programs will weaken that edge. Some projects will move abroad. Some that might have thrived here will not. Others will achieve only a fraction of their potential. Each outcome is a setback on its own. Together they add up to millions, possibly billions, in lost investment and slower American innovation.”

Marine heatwaves to become more frequent off UK and Irish coasts, experts say

Scientists find 10% chance that similar events to the ‘unheard of’ temperatures in 2023 could occur each yearThe unprecedented marine heatwave of 2023 was in line with climate modelling, research shows, as scientists warn such events will become more frequent.The “unheard of” heatwave off the UK and Irish coasts during a summer of 40C temperatures raised concerns that fish, shellfish and kelp would not be able to survive. Continue reading...

The unprecedented marine heatwave of 2023 was in line with climate modelling, research shows, as scientists warn such events will become more frequent.The “unheard of” heatwave off the UK and Irish coasts during a summer of 40C temperatures raised concerns that fish, shellfish and kelp would not be able to survive.During the heatwave, temperatures in the shallow seas around the UK, including the North Sea and Celtic Sea, reached 2.9C above the June average for 16 days. The extended period of time put sea life at risk of death.A study by the University of Exeter, the Met Office and the Centre for Environment, Fisheries and Aquaculture Science (Cefas) said there was about a 10% chance of a marine heatwave of this scale occurring each year, despite the unprecedented nature of the 2023 heatwave.The study, published in the journal Communications Earth & Environment, used climate models to assess the likelihood of heatwaves at the June 2023 level or above and found that in the Celtic Sea – off the south coast of Ireland – the annual chance of such a heatwave rose from 3.8% in 1993 to 13.8% now. In the central North Sea, the chance rose from 0.7% in 1993 to 9.8%While the full disruption to the marine ecosystem caused by the heatwave has not been assessed, scientists know it has significantly disrupted phytoplankton blooms. Heatwaves can stress marine species and increase concentrations of bacteria that can harm humans.Dr Jamie Atkins, who led the study during his PhD at Exeter, and is now at Utrecht University, said: “Our findings show that marine heatwaves are a problem now – not just a risk from future climate change.”Prof Adam Scaife, a co-author of the study from the University of Exeter and the head of long-range forecasting at the Met Office, said: “This is another example of how steady climate warming is leading to an exponential increase in the occurrence of extreme events.”The marine heatwave turbocharged the temperatures on land in Britain and Ireland and also contributed to heavy rain.Atkins said: “Warmer seas provide a source of heat off the coast, contributing to higher temperatures on land.skip past newsletter promotionThe planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essentialPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotion“Additionally, warmer air carries more moisture – and when that cools it leads to increased rainfall.”Prof Ana M Queirós at the Plymouth Marine Laboratory said: “Long marine heatwave periods push wildlife into a situation where seasonal ecological processes, such as reproduction, and even offspring hatching, are tricked into taking place at a time when other environmental conditions are not suitable.“This is certainly a very bad sign for the health of our planet and our ocean, and one likely to worsen unless we make significant strides to cut emissions.”

Solar and Wind Power Has Grown Faster Than Electricity Demand This Year, Report Says

A new analysis of solar and wind power shows its generation worldwide has outpaced electricity demand this year

Worldwide solar and wind power generation has outpaced electricity demand this year, and for the first time on record, renewable energies combined generated more power than coal, according to a new analysis.Global solar generation grew by a record 31% in the first half of the year, while wind generation grew by 7.7%, according to the report by the energy think tank Ember, which was released after midnight Tuesday London time. Solar and wind generation combined grew by more than 400 terawatt hours, which was more than overall global demand increased in the same period, it found.The findings suggest it is possible for the world to wean off polluting sources of power — even as demand for electricity skyrockets — with continued investment in renewables including solar, wind, hydropower, bioenergy and geothermal energies. “That means that they can keep up the pace with growing appetite for electricity worldwide,” said Małgorzata Wiatros-Motyka, senior electricity analyst at Ember and lead author of the study.At the same time, total fossil fuel generation dropped slightly, by less than 1%.“The fall overall of fossil may be small, but it is significant,” said Wiatros-Motyka. “This is a turning point when we see emissions plateauing."The firm analyzes monthly data from 88 countries representing the vast majority of electricity demand around the world. Reasons that demand is increasing include economic growth, electric vehicles and data centers, rising populations in developing countries and the need for more cooling as temperatures rise.Meeting that demand by burning fossil fuels such as coal and gas for electricity releases planet-warming gases including carbon dioxide and methane. This leads to more severe, costly and deadly extreme weather. Ember also dedicated part of its report to an analysis of China, India, the European Union and the U.S. Combined, they account for nearly two-thirds of electricity generation and carbon dioxide emissions from the power sector globally. In the first six months of the year, China added more solar and wind than the rest of the world combined, and its fossil fuel generation fell by 2%, the report said.India saw record solar and wind growth that outpaced the growth in demand. India's fossil fuel generation also dropped. In both nations, emissions fell.“It’s often been said by analysts that renewable energy doesn’t really lead to a reduction in fossil fuel use,” said Michael Gerrard, founder and director of the Columbia University Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, who was not involved in the report. “This report highlights an encouraging step in the opposite direction.” But in the U.S., demand growth outpaced the growth of clean power generation. In the E.U., sluggish wind and hydropower generation contributed to higher coal and gas generation, the report said. In both markets, fossil fuel generation and emissions increased.In his speech at the United Nations General Assembly last month, Trump attacked renewable energy and questioned the validity of the concept of climate change. Experts warn that Trump's efforts to block clean energy will have a long-term impact.“The federal government is greatly increasing the growth of artificial intelligence, which is going to massively increase electricity demand, and they’re also shutting down the cheapest new sources of electricity, wind and solar. That’s going to lead to a gap in supply and demand,” Gerrard said.Renewables “still have an opportunity to make inroads in to displacing fossil fuels, even with some demand growth,” said Amanda Smith, senior scientist at research organization Project Drawdown, who also wasn't involved in the report. But, Smith said: “I am very cautiously optimistic that renewables can continue to grow and continue to displace fossil fuels in the U.S. I am more optimistic on the world scale.”The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

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