Naomi Oreskes, a geologist, historian, educator, and author, works at the center of science and politics. Over the past decade, she has explored the history of scientific consensus and dissent around anthropogenic climate change, something that scientists have known for a century had the potential to disrupt Earth’s climate system.
Oreskes’ 2010 book, Merchants of Doubt, How a Handful of Scientists Obscured the Truth on Issues from Tobacco to Global Warming, co-authored with Erik M. Conway, was shortlisted for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and won the Watson-Davis Prize from the History of Science Society. It also paved the way for public foes, many who represent organizations and industries she speaks out about, to emerge. Over the years, Oreskes’ work has been a target of backlash, something she has learned to embrace.
On Mar. 1, 2016, Oreskes will discuss the dynamics of disbelief and its implications for society and the common good at the University of Washington’s Kane Hall. The talk is sold out, but we caught up with Oreskes for a window into the types of insight she’ll share. If you weren’t able to RSVP or want to re-watch or share it with your networks, stay tuned for our recap video, which will be available in the days afterward.
What’s one of the most fascinating aspects of climate change’s history as it relates to scientific consensus and dissent?
I think the most interesting aspect of this, that most people don’t understand, is that scientists predicted long ago that man-made climate change would occur. Many people now think that we know climate change is happening but we’re not entirely sure what is causing it. Actually, the historical context is the reverse. Scientists understood, on physical principles, that increased greenhouse gases from burning fossil fuels could change the climate, but they were not sure whether or not it really would. So they began work, in the 1950s, first of all to measure how much CO2 was increasing in the atmosphere, and second to see what effect that might be having. By the 1960s they had showed that CO2 was indeed increasing, and by the 1990s they knew it was changing our climate.
The New York Times called you a “lightening rod in a changing climate.” To you, what does that characterization represent?
As I said in the piece, a lightening rod keeps us safe, and I do think that my work has to some extent helped keep scientists safe. It has shown that the attacks on them are politically motivated. They have done nothing wrong. So to the extent that my work has helped scientists in this way, it’s something I’m very proud of.
There’s a push to make science more accessible and for scientists to more broadly speak to the implications of their findings on society. What are the biggest barriers to more and better science communication?
I think there are two things. The first is training. Scientists are highly trained specialists; they are not trained to communicate. Communication, like most things, can be learned. The second thing is just the tremendous pressure of scientific careers. Science is demanding and competitive. Even scientists who have the talent and inclination often feel that they just can’t afford to take the time to communicate to the public. And it does take time, especially to do it well. It takes time and practice.
What do you find yourself explaining over and over again?
Everything! So this work doesn’t just take time, it also takes patience and compassion.
Your research has, in some cases, made you a target for the individuals and industries you seek to shed light on. Does having outspoken foes make you more or less vocal about your research?
Definitely more vocal. Early on in this work, when I was first attacked, it was very shocking and upsetting. But then Erik Conway and I realized: if people were trying to shut us up, it must have meant that we had something important to say.
What qualities or traits someone working in your field must have?
I would say that the most important thing about working in any field is love for the work. I love history of science because it’s absolutely fascinating. The natural world is extraordinarily complex and beautiful, and it’s deeply fascinating to me to try to understand how we, as fallible and incomplete humans, have actually managed to understand so much about it. And then, again, in any field, to be successful you have to work. I don’t know anyone who is really successful who doesn’t love what they do and work very hard at it.
What is something you still can’t believe you’re up against?
Climate change denial by presidential candidates, including one who went to Harvard! It’s shocking to me—and frankly depressing—that a man running to be President of the United States can repeat denialist claims that have been shown to be false. There are a number of spurious claims out on the campaign trail, but the most egregious is that “satellite data show that the warming has stopped.” That’s totally bogus. Global warming never stopped and this has been thoroughly demonstrated. At one point, back in the 1990s, there was a suggestion that satellite data showed cooling in the troposphere, but that was shown to be an error based on an incorrect correction for satellite orbital decay. Not only was this well publicized at the time, but the scientist originally responsible for the cooling claim acknowledged that he had made a mistake. Yet, it is still being repeated on the campaign trail as if it were true. And since the refutations are very well known, there’s no chance that this is just confusion or misunderstanding.
What’s the most exciting aspect of your current research?
Right now we are doing some work on the Clean Air Act that shows that people understood, even in the late 1960s, that CO2 could change the climate, and therefore should perhaps be considered a pollutant. We want to explain how and why the words “weather and climate” found their way into the Clean Air Act, and we are getting close to being able to do that. This is consistent with my answer to the first question: our understanding of climate change is much older than most people think. What we are close to being able to show is that scientists in the 1960s were actually effective in explaining what they were learning to politicians, who, in those days, were listening. So there’s an optimistic side to this work: scientists can explain their work to political leaders, and political leaders can listen and act on it. We’ve done it before, so we can do it again.