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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.
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Can Venice's Iconic Crab Dish Survive Climate Change?

For more than 300 years, Italians have fried soft-shell green crabs, called moeche. But the culinary tradition is under threat

Coastal Cities of Europe A Smithsonian magazine special report Can Venice’s Iconic Crab Dish Survive Climate Change? For more than 300 years, Italians have fried soft-shell green crabs, called moeche. But the culinary tradition is under threat Crabs not yet at the molting stage are thrown back into the Venice lagoon. Simone Padovani/Awakening/Getty Images Domenico Rossi, a fisherman from Torcello, an island near Venice, was 6 years old when he first went fishing with his dad. “I loved everything about it,” he says. “The long days out on the water, the variety of fish, even the rough winds that would sometimes capsize our boat.” Rossi vividly remembers picking up nets full of eels, cuttlefish, prawns, crabs, gobies and soles. But that rich biodiversity is now a distant memory. In the past 30 years, the population of many species native to Venice’s lagoon, a fragile ecosystem of brackish waters and sandy inlets, has shrunk. “At least 80 percent of species have gone,” Rossi says. Domenico Rossi is one of the last fishermen trained to catch local soft-shell crabs. Vittoria Traverso The 55-year-old fishermen is one of the last trained to catch local soft-shell crabs. Scientifically named Carcinus aestuarii, the green crab is the key ingredient of a beloved local dish called moeche (pronounced “moh-eh-keh”), a word that means “soft” in Venetian dialect. Dipped in eggs, dredged with flour and fried, these crabs are usually served with a splash of lemon and paired with a glass of local white wine. The origin of this dish goes back to at least the 18th century—it was mentioned in the 1792 volume on Adriatic fauna by Italian abbot and naturalist Giuseppe Olivi. As Olivi described, moeche are only found twice per year, during spring and fall, when changes in water temperatures trigger crabs to molt. Until ten years ago, it was common to find fried moeche in osterias and bacari, or informal wine bars, across Venice’s lagoon, from Chioggia in the south to Burano in the north. Recently though, it has been increasingly hard to find them. Fishermen report a 50 percent decline in catch just in the past three years. As climate change, pollution and invasive species put pressure on local species, fishermen, chefs and locals may need to rethink their centuries-old food traditions. Dipped in eggs, dredged with flour and deep-fried, the crabs are often served with polenta and lemon. Simone Padovani/Awakening/Getty Images A fragile ecosystem Spanning 212 square miles, from the River Sile in the north to the River Brenta in the south, Venice’s lagoon is the largest wetland in the Mediterranean. Only 8 percent of the lagoon is made up of islands, including Venice, while the remaining surface is a mosaic of salt marshes, seagrass wetlands, mudflats and eutrophic lakes. These diverse habitats, characterized by various degrees of salinity and acidity, have historically been home to a rich variety of species. But in the past three decades, the impact of pollution from nearby industries, erosion due to motorboat traffic and warming waters have put pressure on the lagoon’s fragile ecosystem. This period coincided with the installation of MOSE, a system of movable floodgates designed to temporarily seal the lagoon from the Adriatic Sea to protect inhabited areas from sea-level rise. While essential to Venice’s survival, MOSE now prevents high-tide waters from reaching the innermost parts of the lagoon, preventing the influx of oxygen and nutrients that come with seawater and halting the formation of sandbars and salt marshes. As a result of these changes, many habitats have degraded and some native species have been hard hit. Spanning 212 square miles, from the River Sile in the north to the River Brenta in the south, Venice’s lagoon is the largest wetland in the Mediterranean. Vittoria Traverso The green crab is found in many parts of the Mediterranean, including Italy, France, Spain and Tunisia. But it is only in Venice’s lagoon, in places like Chioggia, Burano or Torcello, that fishermen have developed a special technique to capture this crustacean during its molting phase. Like all crustaceans, green crabs molt while growing. During molting, they shed their outer shell, leaving behind an edible internal soft-shell. Fishermen in Venice’s lagoon have learned how to identify and catch molting crabs. “You need to learn to spot the signs on crabs’ shells to know if they are about to molt,” Rossi explains. “It takes years of just watching how your elders do it, and eventually you learn.” Crabs are typically caught 20 days before the start of the molting process. Once caught, crabs are placed in cube-shaped nets along the shores of canals. Fishermen, or moecanti as they are called locally, check them up to twice a day to spot signs of impending molting. About two days before their shell-shedding process, they are placed in another container. “Once there, you have to check them more frequently to pick them up right when they shed their shell and they are soft,” Rossi says. As crabs get closer to molting, they become weaker, and they can fall prey to younger, stronger crabs. A key part of a moecanti’s job is to constantly check the catch to prevent this sort of cannibalism, Rossi explains. “You have to pick out the weak ones and separate them from the rest,” he says. “It takes decades just to be able to tell where crabs are in their maturation process.” After molting, soft-shell crabs are usually sold and cooked within two days. When Rossi was a child, soft-shell crabs were abundant and considered part of Venice’s affordable rural foods known as cucina povera. But today’s scarcity has turned what was once an inexpensive fishermen’s food into a highly sought-after delicacy. Just six years ago, moeche sold for €60 per kilogram. The price of one kilogram of moeche can now reach €150, Rossi explains. Once caught, soon-to-be-molting crabs are placed in cube-shaped nets along the shores of canals. Vittoria Traverso Green crab goes out, blue crab comes in It’s hard to find accurate data on the green crab population of Venice’s lagoon. Scientists mostly rely on data from fishermen. “Based on fishermen’s catch, we can say that there has been an overall decrease of green crab in the past 50 years,” says Alberto Barausse, an ecologist at the University of Padua who has studied the impact of heatwaves on green crabs in the Venice lagoon using data from fishermen’s catch since 1945. Reasons for the decrease of green crabs are complex, Barausse explains. As detailed in his 2013 study, heatwaves can stress green crabs during their early embryo stage, making them less resilient to future threats. Changing rain patterns, with less constant rain but more frequent extreme precipitation, are changing the lagoon’s salinity levels, with a cascade of effects on its ecosystem. For example, higher salinity and warmer temperatures have incentivized the arrival of Mnemiopsis leidyi, a gelatinous marine invertebrate that eats mostly zooplankton, including the larvae of the green crab. Warmer waters have also contributed to the arrival of another highly invasive species, the blue crab. Did you know? Invasives in Oregon In April 2025, a commercial fisherman caught a Chinese mitten crab in the lower Columbia River, which serves as the border between Oregon and Washington, putting biologists on high alert. A native species of the Atlantic Ocean, the blue crab was first spotted in Venice’s lagoon around 1950. It is only in recent years that it found conditions suitable to fully expand its presence there. “Up until a few years back, water temperatures during winter were too cold for blue crabs,” says Fabio Pranovi, an ecologist at Ca’ Foscari University in Venice. “But thanks to warming waters, blue crabs now live and reproduce in the lagoon throughout the winter.” Since 2023, the blue crab population in Venice lagoon has exploded. From an ecological standpoint, blue crabs are considered an invasive species, Pranovi explains, because they compete with native species like the green crab for shelter and food. They don’t yet have a significant predator, so they are growing at a much faster rate than native species. As explained by Filippo Piccardi, a postdoctoral student in marine biology at the University of Padua who wrote a thesis on the impact of the species in Venice’s lagoon, blue crabs are omnivorous predators who have found their ideal prey among many of the lagoon’s keystone species, such as clams and mussels. In 2024, the impact of blue crabs on local clams was so acute that local authorities declared a state of emergency. For fishermen, these blue invaders are an enemy to battle with daily. “I can’t count the times I had to replace my nets in the past two years,” Rossi says. Traditional moeche fishermen like Rossi still make their fishing nets by hand. Each family has its own way of doing it, almost like a secret recipe, he explains. Because these handmade nets are used to catch green crabs, which measure around 4 inches across, they are close-knit with small holes. Blue crabs, which measure up to 9 inches, have much larger claws than green crabs, so they easily break net threads. Blue crabs have much larger claws than green grabs so they easily break the threads of handmade nets. Vittoria Traverso “They are wickedly smart,” say Eros Grego, a moeche fisherman from Chioggia. “They come, break our nets and just wait there to feast on whatever was in the net.” Damage from blue crab has been so significant that Rossi is considering replacing his nylon nets with iron cages. “It costs me about €20 to make a kilo of net,” he says. “If I have to replace them every season, it’s going to cost me a fortune.” Blue crabs also eat green crabs, Pranovi says, and, according to Rossi, they have been feasting on their smaller local cousins with gusto thanks to their size and speed. “When you see them underwater, it’s just striking,” Rossi says. “Local crabs are so much smaller and can only move on the seabed, while these crabs are twice their size and can swim really fast across the water.” In 2025, Rossi has not caught any green crabs that would be suitable for moeche. “It’s the first year that I find zero moeche,” he says. “All I find in my nets is blue crabs and some date mussels.” Grego, who works in the deeper southern lagoon, is having a similar experience. “We were already dealing with shrinking catch due to heatwaves and extreme rainfall,” he says, adding that changes in climate patterns had made the traditional molting season less predictable. The blue crab is the straw that broke the camel’s back.” Changing traditions? The arrival of blue crabs in Venice lagoon and the simultaneous decrease of the native green crabs are pushing some chefs to rethink traditional cuisine. Venissa, a one-Michelin-starred and green-Michelin-starred restaurant on the island of Mazzorbo, in the north of the lagoon near Torcello, has decided to no longer serve green crab. “Our philosophy is to cook dishes that don’t undermine the lagoon’s ecosystem,” says chef Francesco Brutto, who has been running Venissa with his partner, Chiara Pavan, since 2015. The couple embraced this style of low-impact cooking after noticing how Venice’s lagoon changed during the Covid-19 pandemic, when pressure from human activities like tourism was eased. “We spotted species we had not seen in years, like turtles and dolphins,” Brutto says. “So we decided to have as little impact as possible.” Venissa has decided to no longer serve green crab. Vittoria Traverso For that reason, Venissa mostly serves plant protein, Brutto explains. Animal protein is used only from species that are not threatened. That means invasive species like veined rapa whelk and blue crab are now fixtures of Venissa’s menu. “Right now, eating green crab is the equivalent of eating an endangered dolphin,” Brutto explains. Venissa still offers moeche, the chef clarifies, but they make it with blue crab. “Moeche of blue crab taste better in my opinion. There is more pulp compared with green crab,” he says. But not everyone is ready to give up traditional moeche. Ristorante Garibaldi, a traditional fish restaurant in Chioggia, has been serving moeche since it opened in the 1980s. “Our clients come here specifically to eat moeche,” says chef Nelson Nemedello. This year, Nemedello could only find about 800 grams of moeche from a local fisherman. “Prices are becoming insane. I paid them €170 per kilo,” he says. But demand is there, despite the price, so Nemedello and his wife keep serving green crabs. “It’s considered a food unique to this place, so people are willing to pay more for it.” According to Fabio Parasecoli, author of Gastronativism: Food, Identity, Politics, sticking with traditional foods can be a way to cling to local identity during times of rapid and economic change. Traditional foods have always been intertwined with people’s sense of identity, he says, but in the past 20 years there has been a stronger identification with food in many parts of Italy, partly as a backlash against globalization. “It’s a little bit like saying this food is who we are,” he says. “If you take this away from us, then who are we?” In the case of a place like Venice, tourists’ expectations of a specific type of local gastronomic identity also play a role. “If tourists come to Venice expecting to eat traditional food like moeche, then restaurants may feel like they have to offer that,” Parasecoli explains. Plus, as Pranovi notes, it takes time for people to adjust to new flavors. “Some people find moeche made of blue crabs too big while others say the taste is not as subtle,” he says. “It is going to take time for people to change their expectations around how moeche should taste.” Blue crab is now a fixture of Venissa’s menu. Venissa Changes in species distribution have always shaped food traditions. Parasecoli cites the example of potatoes, a species native to the Americas that became a widespread ingredient in European cuisine after its arrival from the New World in the 16th century. But in Venice, the pace of change feels fast to many locals. “I grew up in the lagoon, and it’s always been slightly changing. But in the past seven to eight years, I hardly can recognize it,” Rossi says. “It feels like being on the moon.” This pace of change is leaving fishermen and local authorities to play catch-up. Since the blue crab invasion started in 2023, authorities have ordered the capturing and killing of blue crabs. But Piccardi, who studied the impact of the blue crab for his thesis, says trying to erase a fast-growing population that has found optimal environmental conditions is unrealistic. “Our advice is to focus on catching female crabs specifically in order to slow down reproduction,” he says. “And, ultimately, to learn to coexist with this new species.” Fishermen like Rossi and Grego are adapting. “In the past three years, I have mostly caught blue crab,” Rossi explains. “I might as well shift the focus of my fishing.” While open to the idea of catching blue crab, Rossi doubts that this shift can guarantee a living. “There isn’t really a market for blue crab. They sell for less than €10 per kilo.” Tunisia, which is also dealing with massive uptakes in blue crabs, has developed a blue crab industry and established canning factories, Rossi notes. “If we did the same here, perhaps there would be some more opportunities.” Future prospects While fishermen are skeptical that their centuries-old livelihood can bounce back—Rossi nudged his son to find another career—scientists are careful to make any definitive predictions. “Things are still evolving,” Pranovi says. “When new species arrive, it takes time for ecosystems to adjust.” Green crabs may learn to cope with pressure from heatwaves thanks to oxygen released by salt marshes, Barausse says. But rising water temperatures, extreme weather events and the more frequent use of MOSE are all likely to destabilize local species, according to Pranovi. With such dynamics at play, the only way for Venice’s iconic crab dish to survive may be to change its core ingredient. This may become a familiar tale in other parts of the world. “As climate change keeps undermining the habitats of traditional species, the tension between preserving tradition and adapting with new foods will become more and more common,” Parasecoli says. Ironically, the very places where the blue crabs came from—such as the Atlantic coast of North America—now deal with an invasion of their own: European green crabs. What’s the solution? Eat them. Planning Your Next Trip? Explore great travel deals A Note to our Readers Smithsonian magazine participates in affiliate link advertising programs. If you purchase an item through these links, we receive a commission.

Senate Climate Hawks Aren't Ready To Stop Talking About It

“We need to talk about it in ways that connect directly to voters’ lives right now,” Sen. Martin Heinrich (D-N.M.), a top environmentalist, said of global warming.

WASHINGTON — Top environmental advocates in the Senate aren’t ready to stop talking about the threat of climate change, even as they acknowledge the environmental movement needs to pivot its messaging to better connect to pocketbook concerns amid skyrocketing electricity bills and the Trump administration’s crackdown on renewable energy projects across the country.The pivot comes as centrists in the party push to downplay an issue that has been at the center of Democratic messaging for years, arguing it’s unnecessarily polarizing and has hurt the party’s brand in key states.“You have to live in the moment that you’re in,” Sen. Martin Heinrich (D-N.M.) said in an interview with HuffPost. “Climate is still a giant problem for most states – I’ve had friends whose fire insurance has been canceled because the insurance companies can’t afford it anymore. So it’s not going away, but we need to talk about it in ways that connect directly to voters’ lives right now.”“If you shut down clean energy projects, you’re raising people’s electric rates,” Heinrich added. “I’m not stepping back [from talking about climate] at all, but I am connecting the dots in a way that I think people really respond to.”“I don’t think there’s any doubt that climate is a driving priority,” Sen. Brian Schatz (D-Hawaii), another leading climate hawk in the Senate, told HuffPost. “I just think how we talk about it and whether or not we emphasize it in our ads is sort of a different question.”After years of advocating for urgent action to confront the threat of climate change, some Democrats are leaning into economic issues instead and avoiding mentioning climate change on the campaign trail. Tom Steyer, the billionaire environmentalist who once focused almost exclusively on climate change, for example, launched his campaign for governor in California with an ad focused on affordability issues and taking on big corporations. California Gov. Gavin Newsom (D), another top climate advocate, has taken a softer approach to Big Oil after years of cracking down on the industry.“There’s not a poll or a pundit that suggests that Democrats should be talking about this,” Newsom told Politico about climate change recently. “I’m not naive to that either, but I think it’s the way we talk about it that’s the bigger issue, and I think all of us, including myself, need to improve on that, and that’s what I aim to do.”Other potential 2028 Democratic presidential candidates have also focused on rising energy costs when they talk about climate. Sen. Ruben Gallego (D-Ariz.), for example, unveiled his own plan last month aimed at boosting clean energy and lowering emissions that was all about affordability. Americans deserve an “energy system that is safe, clean, and affordable for working families – we do not have to choose just one of the above,” his plan stated. Moderate Democrats, however, argue the party has become too closely associated with a cause that simply isn’t at the top of Americans’ priority lists and can be actively harmful for candidates in states where the oil and gas industries employ large numbers of people. The Searchlight Institute, a new centrist think tank founded by a former aide for Sen. John Fetterman (D-Pa.) and the late Sen. Harry Reid (D-Nev.), has urged Democrats to stop mentioning “climate change” entirely in favor of “affordability,” the word Trump seems to think is a “hoax” made up by the left. “In our research, Republicans and Democrats both agree that affordability should be a national priority, and they’re mostly aligned on the importance of lowering energy costs,” the group wrote in a September memo. “That said, mentioning ‘climate change’ opens up a 50-point gap in support between Republicans and Democrats not present on other issues—much larger than the gap in support for developing new energy sources (10 points) or reducing pollution (36 points).”Even if the issue doesn’t move votes, worries about climate change remain widespread: A record-high 48% of U.S. adults said in a Gallup survey earlier this year that global warming will, at some point, pose a serious threat to themselves or their way of life. And not every Democrat agrees with those urging the party to stop talking about climate change. Rhode Island Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse, who has delivered hundreds of speeches on the Senate floor calling on Americans to “wake up” to the threat of fossil fuels and climate change, told HuffPost that moving away from advocating for the environment is “stupid” and “ill-informed.” He recently introduced a resolution to get senators on the record about where they stand on climate change.Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, an independent who caucuses with Democrats, said that “you can’t back away from a reality which is going to impact everybody in the United States and people throughout the world.” He added that Democrats must have “the courage to take on the fossil fuel industry and do what many other countries are doing, moving to energy efficiency and sustainable energies like solar.”Democrats this year have hammered Trump’s administration for shutting down the construction of new renewable energy sources, including, most recently, five large-scale offshore wind projects under construction along the East Coast. Trump’s Interior Department cited “emerging national security risks” to explain why it had paused work on the offshore wind farms, without elaborating. “Trump’s obsession with killing offshore wind projects is unhinged, irrational, and unjustified,” Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) said in a statement on Monday. “At a time of soaring energy costs, this latest decision from DOI is a backwards step that will drive energy bills even higher. It will kill good union jobs, spike energy costs, and put our grid at risk; and it makes absolutely no business sense.”Trump has complained about wind power since offshore turbines were built off the coast of his Scottish golf course in 2011, and has continued the assault in office, calling turbines “disgusting looking,” “noisy,” deadly to birds, and even “bad for people’s health.”Trump’s administration and GOP allies on Capitol Hill have also rolled back or terminated many of the green energy provisions included in President Joe Biden’s signature climate and health law, the Inflation Reduction Act. When it passed in 2022, it was hailed as the most significant federal investment in U.S. history aimed at fighting climate change. But Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill Act wound down much of its tax credits, ended electric vehicle incentives and relaxed emissions rules in a major shift from the previous administration.“As Trump dismantles the wind and solar and battery storage and all electric vehicle job creation revolution in our country, he simultaneously is accelerating the increase in electricity prices for all Americans, which is going to come back to politically haunt the Trump administration,” Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.) told HuffPost. “So rather than shying away, we should be leaning into the climate issue, because it’s central as well to the affordability issue that people are confronting at their kitchen table.”

2025 was a big year for climate in the US courts - these were the wins and losses

Americans are increasingly turning to courts to hold big oil accountable. Here are major trends that emerged last yearAs the Trump administration boosts fossil fuels, Americans are increasingly turning to courts to hold big oil accountable for alleged climate deception. That wave of litigation swelled in 2025, with groundbreaking cases filed and wins notched.But the year also brought setbacks, as Trump attacked the cases and big oil worked to have them thrown out. The industry also worked to secure a shield from current and future climate lawsuits. Continue reading...

1. Big oil suits progressed but faced challengesIn recent years, 70-plus US states, cities, and other subnational governments have sued big oil for alleged climate deception. This year, courts repeatedly rejected fossil fuel interests’ attempts to thwart those cases. The supreme court denied a plea to kill a Honolulu lawsuit, and turned down an unusual bid by red states to block the cases. Throughout the year, state courts also shot down attempts to dismiss cases or remand them to federal courts which are seen as more favorable to oil interests.But challenges against big oil also encountered stumbling blocks. In May, Puerto Rico voluntarily dismissed its 2024 lawsuit under pressure. Charleston, South Carolina also declined to appeal its case after it was dismissed.In the coming weeks, the supreme court is expected to decide if it will review a climate lawsuit filed by Boulder, Colorado, against two major oil companies. Their decision could embolden or hinder climate accountability litigation.“So far, the oil companies have had a losing record trying to get these cases thrown out,” said Richard Wiles, president of the Center for Climate Integrity, which backs the litigation against the industry. “The question is, does Boulder change that?”After Colorado’s supreme court refused to dismiss the lawsuit, the energy companies filed a petition with the supreme court asking them to kill the case on the grounds that it is pre-empted by federal laws. If the high court declines to weigh in on the petition – or takes it up and rules in favor of the plaintiffs – that could be boon for climate accountability cases. But if the justices agrees with the oil companies, it could void the Boulder case – and more than a dozen others which make similar claims.That would be a “major challenge”, said Wiles, “but it wouldn’t be game over for the wave of litigation”.“It would not mean the end of big oil being held accountable in the court,” he said.The American Petroleum Institute, the nation’s largest oil lobby group, did not respond to a request to comment.2. New and novel litigationClimate accountability litigation broke new ground in 2025, with Americans taking up novel legal strategies to sue big oil. In May, a Washington woman brought the first-ever wrongful-death lawsuit against big oil alleging the industry’s climate negligence contributed to her mother’s death during a deadly heat wave. And in November, Washington residents brought a class action lawsuit claiming fossil fuel sector deception drove a climate-fueled spike in homeowners’ insurance costs.“These novel cases reflect the lived realities of climate harm and push the legal system to grapple with the full scope of responsibility,” said Merner.Hawaii this year also became the 10th state to sue big oil over alleged climate deception, filing its case just hours after the Department of Justice took the unusual step of suing Hawaii and Michigan over their plans to file litigation. It was a “clear-eyed and powerful pushback” to Trump’s intimidation, Merner said.3. Accountability shieldBig oil ramped up its efforts to evade accountability for its past actions this year, said Wiles. They were aided by allies like Trump, who in April signed an executive order instructing the Justice Department to halt climate accountability litigation and similar policies.In July, members of Congress also tried to cut off Washington DC’s access to funding to enforce its consumer protection laws “against oil and gas companies for environmental claims” by inserting language into a proposed House appropriations bill. A committee passed that version of the text, but the full House never voted on it.2025 also brought mounting evidence that big oil is pushing for a federal liability shield, which could resemble a 2005 law that has largely insulated the firearms industry from lawsuits. In June, 16 Republican state attorneys general asked the Justice Department to help create a “liability shield” for fossil fuel companies against climate lawsuits, the New York Times reported. Lobbying disclosures further show the nation’s largest oil trade group, as well as energy giant ConocoPhillips, lobbying Congress about draft legislation on the topic, according to Inside Climate News.Such a waiver could potentially exempt the industry from virtually all climate litigation. The battle is expected to heat up next year.“We expect they could sneak language to grant them immunity, into some must-pass bill,” said Wiles. “That’s how we think they’ll play it, so we’ve been talking to every person on the Democratic side so that they keep a lookout for this language.”4. What to watch in 2026: plastics and extreme weather casesDespite the challenges ahead, 2026 will almost definitely bring more climate accountability lawsuits against not only big oil but also other kinds of emitting companies. This year, New York’s attorney general notched a major win by securing a $1.1m settlement from the world’s biggest meat company, JBS, over alleged greenwashing. The victory could inspire more cases, said Merner, who noted that many such lawsuits have been filed abroad.Wiles expects more cases to accuse oil companies of deception about plastic pollution, like the one California filed last year. He also expects more lawsuits which focus on harms caused by specific extreme weather events, made possible by advances in attribution science – which links particular disasters to global warming. Researchers and law firms are also developing new theories to target the industry, with groundbreaking cases likely to be filed in 2026.“Companies have engaged in decades of awful behavior that creates liability on so many fronts,” he said. “We haven’t even really scratched the surface of the numerous ways they could be held legally accountable for their behavior.”

From rent to utility bills: the politicians and advocates making climate policy part of the affordability agenda

As the Trump administration derides climate policy as a ‘scam’, emissions-cutting measures are gaining popularityA group of progressive politicians and advocates are reframing emissions-cutting measures as a form of economic populism as the Trump administration derides climate policy as a “scam” and fails to deliver on promises to tame energy costs and inflation.Climate politics were once cast as a test of moral resolve, calling on Americans to accept higher costs to avert environmental catastrophe, but that ignores how rising temperatures themselves drive up costs for working people, said Stevie O’Hanlon, co-founder of the youth-led Sunrise Movement. Continue reading...

A group of progressive politicians and advocates are reframing emissions-cutting measures as a form of economic populism as the Trump administration derides climate policy as a “scam” and fails to deliver on promises to tame energy costs and inflation.Climate politics were once cast as a test of moral resolve, calling on Americans to accept higher costs to avert environmental catastrophe, but that ignores how rising temperatures themselves drive up costs for working people, said Stevie O’Hanlon, co-founder of the youth-led Sunrise Movement.“People increasingly understand how climate and costs of living are tied together,” she said.Utility bills and healthcare costs are climbing as extreme weather intensifies. Public transit systems essential to climate goals are reeling from federal funding cuts. Rents are rising as landlords pass along costs of inefficient buildings, higher insurance and disaster repairs, turning climate risk into a monthly surcharge. Meanwhile, wealth inequality is surging under an administration that took record donations from big oil.“We need to connect climate change to the everyday economic reality we are all facing in this country,” said O’Hanlon.Progressive politicians have embraced that notion. Zohran Mamdani, New York City’s democratic socialist mayor-elect, has advanced affordability-first climate policies such as free buses to reduce car use, and a plan to make schools more climate-resilient. Seattle’s socialist mayor-elect, Katie Wilson, says she will boost social housing while pursuing green retrofits.NYC Mayor-MamdaniFILE - Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., left, New York City mayoral candidate Zohran Mamdani, center, and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y., appear on stage during a rally, Sunday, Oct. 26, 2025, in New York. (AP Photo/Heather Khalifa, File) Photograph: Heather Khalifa/APMaine’s US Senate hopeful Graham Platner is pairing calls to rein in polluters and protect waterways with a critique of oligarchic politics. In Nebraska, independent US Senate candidate Dan Osborn backs right-to-repair laws that let farmers and consumers fix equipment – an approach he doesn’t frame as climate policy, but one that climate advocates say could reduce emissions from manufacturing. And in New Jersey and Virginia, Democrats “who are by no means radical leftists” ran successful campaigns focused on lowering utility costs, O’Hanlon said.Movements nationwide are also working to cut emissions while building economic power. Chicago’s teachers’ union secured a contract requiring solar panels to be added to schools and creating clean-energy career pathways for students. Educators’ unions in Los Angeles and Minneapolis are also seeking to improve conditions for staff and students while decarbonizing.“We see them as real protagonists in the fight for what we [at the Climate and Community Institute] are calling ‘green economic populism,’” said Rithika Ramamurthy, communications director at the leftwing climate thinktank Climate and Community Institute.From Maine to Texas, organized labor is also pushing for a unionized workforce to decarbonize energy and buildings. And tenants’ unions are working to green their residences while protecting renters from climate disasters and rising bills, Ramamurthy said. From Connecticut to California, they are fighting for eviction protections, which can prevent post-disaster displacement and empower tenants to demand green upgrades. Some are also directly advocating for climate-friendly retrofits.Movements are also working to expand public ownership energy, which proponents say can strengthen democratic control and lower rates by eliminating shareholder profits. In New York, a coalition won a 2023 policy directing the state-owned utility to build renewable energy with a unionized workforce, and advocates are pursuing a consumer-owned utility in Maine and a public takeover of the local utility in Baltimore.To hold polluters accountable for their climate contributions, activists and lawmakers across the country are championing policies that would force them to help pay to curb emissions and boost resilience. Vermont and New York passed such “climate superfund” laws this year, while New York and Maine are expected to vote on such measures soon. And legislators in other states are looking to introduce or reintroduce bills in 2026, even as the Trump administration attempts to kill the laws.“When insurance becomes unaffordable and states are constantly rebuilding after disasters, people don’t need some technical explanation to know that something is seriously wrong,” said Cassidy DiPaola, spokesperson for the Make Polluters Pay campaign. “Climate superfunds connect those costs to accountability by saying that the companies that caused the damage shouldn’t be shielded from paying for it.” Polls show the bills appear popular, she said.Speaking to people’s financial concerns can help build support for climate policy, said DiPaola. Polls show voters support accountability measures against polluters and that most believe the climate crisis is driving up costs of living.“The fastest way to depolarize climate is to simply talk about who’s paying and who’s profiting,” she said. “People disagree about a lot of things, but they do understand being ripped off.”Linking green initiatives with economic concerns isn’t new. It was central to the Green New Deal, popularized by the Sunrise Movement and politicians like the representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez in 2018. That push informed Joe Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), which included the biggest climate investments in US history. But critics argue the IRA fell short of building economic power among ordinary people.Though it boosted green manufacturing and created some 400,000 new jobs, those benefits were not tangible to most Americans, said Ramamurthy. Proposed investments in housing and public transit – which may have been more visible – were scaled back in the final package. Its incentives also largely went to private companies and wealthier households. A 2024 poll found only 24% of registered voters thought the IRA helped them.“The IRA focused on creating incentives for capital, relying almost entirely on carrots with very few sticks,” said Ramamurthy.While it advanced renewables, the IRA also contained handouts for polluters, O’Hanlon said. And Biden did not pair its passage with messaging acknowledging economic hardship, she said.“The administration was great on connecting jobs and green energy,” she said. “But they said the economy was doing well, which felt out of touch.”Trump capitalized on Americans’ economic anxieties, said O’Hanlon, but has not offered them relief.“We need a vision that can actually combat the narrative Trump has been putting out,” she said. “We need a vision for addressing the climate crisis alongside making life better for for working people.”

Why You Feel So Compelled To Make Resolutions Every Single Year, Even If You Fail

It's not your fault: your brain is hardwired to set goals and then quit.

A new year. A new school year. A new week. Mental health experts say our brains are naturally drawn to fresh starts, wired to find motivation in new beginnings. These moments act like a psychological reset button, nudging us toward self-reflection, habit-building and behavior change. Yet despite making resolutions year after year, many of us struggle to stick with them. Why do we keep coming back for more?Here’s why we crave resolutions and how to harness them in a way that actually boosts productivity and keeps momentum going, helping you feel more accomplished all year long.Why Our Brain Is Drawn To Making ResolutionsThough the start of a new year has long been tied to making resolutions, there’s more behind the tradition than just cultural habit. “For many, fresh starts feel hopeful,” said Jennifer Birdsall, a board-certified, licensed clinical psychologist and chief clinical officer at ComPsych. “Psychologically, they allow people to release the baggage of past experiences, including failures, and set forth on goals with renewed energy and optimism.”This ties into what psychologists call the fresh start effect. When a clear milestone, like a new year, a birthday or the start of a new semester, gives us the sense of turning the page, it helps us mentally separate our past self from our future self, motivating us to break old habits and approach change with a bit of extra momentum.Resolutions can also give your brain a boost. There are actually psychological benefits to making goals, even if you don’t follow through on them. Simply setting resolutions can help you feel a greater sense of control. “This is especially important right now given how much uncertainty people experience in today’s volatile social, political and economic climate,” Birdsall said. Alivia Hall, a licensed clinical social worker and clinical director at LiteMinded Therapy, noted that just picturing a future version of ourselves, one who feels healthier, more grounded and more intentional, activates the brain’s reward system, triggering a dopamine boost.“The anticipation alone can create a sense of energy and momentum before we’ve taken a single step,” she explained.Why Resolutions Often Don’t StickMany of us start the year with the best intentions, only to find our goals slipping away a few months in.One reason, according to Hall, is that we often approach goal-setting with an all-or-nothing mindset, viewing success as binary: either you succeed or fail. So when someone skips a single workout or misses a day of journaling, the brain quickly convinces them they’ve completely blown it. “That harsh, all-or-nothing lens can make people give up on their goals entirely, instead of seeing it as just a small setback they can recover from,” she explained.Another common pitfall is relying on willpower. “Early on, motivation runs high because the brain is lit up by novelty and reward anticipation. But once that dopamine surge fades, sheer discipline often isn’t enough to sustain change,” Hall said. Without structure, environmental cues or a deeper connection to our values, goals can start to feel less like inspired choices and more like chores. “Psychologically, this creates friction between intention and behavior — which is why so many resolutions quietly start to fizzle by February or March,” she added.AscentXmedia via Getty ImagesIt's not your fault: your brain is hardwired to set goals and then quit.How To Really Accomplish A Resolution, Once And For AllWhat we need to be mindful of is falling into a cycle of constantly setting new resolutions, enjoying that dopamine boost, and then quickly abandoning those goals. Here are some tips for sticking to a goal long-term when you start to fall off:Do a self-audit before creating your resolution.“I’m a big proponent of doing a self-audit prior to making resolutions or setting goals, as it encourages a more structured and intentional approach to personal growth by reflecting on one’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as one’s accomplishments and growth opportunities,” Birdsall said. Taking time to look back at what you’re most proud of, what may have held you back and how closely you’ve been living your values can help clarify where you want to focus your energy next and which goals will feel most meaningful to pursue.Anchor your resolutions to your values.“Attune to the aspect of the goal that taps into your motivation,” said Lorain Moorehead, a licensed clinical social worker and therapy and consultation practice owner. So if the end result of finishing a marathon doesn’t excite you, maybe what does is the value of improving your physical health. “The motivation that is there when the goal is initially set can wear off, especially as you become tired or the goal becomes challenging or draining,” she said. But when you stay connected to the deeper why behind your goal, it becomes much easier to keep going, even when the momentum dips.Set micro goals to build self-trust.“Break goals into the smallest possible steps, so small they almost feel too easy,” said Ellen Ottman, founder and licensed therapist at Stillpoint Therapy Collective.For example, instead of running 10 miles per week, start with putting on your running shoes and walking outside three times a week, as completing even tiny goals triggers dopamine, which boosts both motivation and confidence. Form connections with like-minded people.Form connections with other goal-setters who can offer support, encouragement or feedback along the way.“Achieving something can be lonely,” Moorehead said. “People can diminish the goal if they don’t understand the process, so it can be helpful to receive support from others who are committed to a goal.” As a way to foster community, join a group of people practicing the same skill or who have already tackled similar goals.If you falter, reset your resolution and keep going.Some 92% of people fail to achieve their goals, so if you’ve fallen off track partway through the year, you’re not alone. The good news is that it’s never too late to reset without feeling like you’ve failed.“Progress rarely happens in straight lines, so the most powerful thing you can do when you lose momentum is to reset with kindness,” Ottman said. “Shame tends to freeze us, while curiosity and self-compassion help us move forward.”Instead of trying to catch up or scrapping your goal altogether, try reworking it. If your original goal was to read more, make it smaller and more specific, like reading one page a day. “Small, consistent wins rebuild trust and confidence in your ability to follow through,” Ottman said, “creating the true foundation for lasting change.”

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