Climate Scientists Should Embrace Public Debate

The issue of climate change has been contentious for years. Whether one believes that human activity has dangerously altered the earth’s environment seems to have more to do with political affiliation than with knowledge of scientific data. Opinions run the gamut from near-religious received wisdom to tin-foil-hat conspiracy theory.

Scott Pruitt, a climate-science skeptic who is now head of the Environmental Protection Agency, has suggested a red-team/blue-team debate exercise, in which scholars arguing for and against human-precipitated climate change make their respective cases. This suggestion has drawn denunciations from numerous climate scientists, who worry about the bad faith of the effort as well as the risk of lending credibility to views that dissent from the overwhelming scientific consensus. As several scientists wrote in a recent Washington Post op-ed, the proposed debates “are dangerous attempts to elevate the status of minority opinions, and to undercut the legitimacy, objectivity and transparency of existing climate science.”

Climate scientists are within reason to suspect that some political theater is afoot. But by assuming a defensive posture, they increasingly risk slipping into anti-science positions themselves.

I am not a climate scientist; my knowledge of the field and my belief that most scientists are right about it comes only from what I read. But I do know something about the sociology of science and how “consensus” views sometimes work against good science. Particularly in the social sciences, which often become entwined in social-justice advocacy, the discounting of data that contradict established findings, ad hominem criticisms of dissenting scholars, and ideological rigidity are common tendencies. They may be elements contributing to the replication crisis in psychology.

In my own field of media effects, it was common until recently to see scholars make sweeping, definitive claims — such as that playing violent video games causes young people to behave violently — often with disparaging comments toward skeptical scholars. Some even took to creating ever-growing lists of criteria for who qualified as a “true expert” (though it seemed that the real test of expertise was believing the “right” things). But in recent years, peer-reviewed studies finding little effect of various “naughty” media have skyrocketed, and surveys of scholars find no evidence for a consensus in views.

Granted, the replication crisis in media effects and psychology more generally can point to science’s virtue: self-correction. These challenges came from within science and the peer-review process. Still, scientists are human, and studies show that “my-side bias” is just as prevalent among people with advanced degrees as it is among the less educated. The Washington Post op-ed presents a Pollyanna view of science with unbiased peer review, tire-kicking skeptical scientists, and a culture of objectivity and openness to divergent views. That’s an ideal, but not always how it works. Scientists feel pressure to publish and to conform to the perceived consensus. They irrationally defend theories associated with their name and seek to quash unfriendly data.

The Climategate scandal that emerged in 2009 revealed some of those foibles. Going through the emails of scholars in almost any discipline would undoubtedly uncover a trove of human weakness. That doesn’t discredit the science. But it does remind us that we can do better. Willingness to engage in debate can help us spot the weaknesses in our own fields.

There is a larger conversation about how academia has become less tolerant of divergent views. Unfortunately, ideological rigidity among faculty members, particularly on social issues, seems to have filtered down to some students. The sacred-cow nature of certain topics, such as the existence of microaggressions, the dicey “1 in 5" rape-victimization statistic, or the belief that spanking causes everything from crime to heart disease, has arguably led to creeping anti-intellectualism on campuses. The enforcement of certain topics as off limits for debate is inherently anti-science. Advocacy efforts often take on the trappings of science but can usually be identified by their shrill and intolerant tone. Don’t think 13 Reasons Why really leads to teen suicide? Well, you must hate kids or be in league with the entertainment industry.

In that vein, a recent New York Magazine article in defense of climate science invokes a doomsday scenario characterized by “bubonic ice melt” plagues, poisonous air, and perpetual war. Even scholars who fully endorse the consensus view on climate change found themselves in the unusual position of finding the article’s predictions too apocalyptic; one referred to it as “climate disaster porn,” particularly given that the gloomy picture might lead readers to throw up their hands in defeat.

As the New York article shows, climate science involves prediction, inference, and a range of possible scenarios. Some are far more likely than others. Would public debates risk putting established and marginal views on the same footing? There are two problems with worrying about that. First, the history of science is littered with established views toppled by once-marginal views. Attempting to choke off scientific dissent to protect an established view is inherently anti-science. Granted, there’s a difference between dissent from within peer-reviewed science (even peer review that suffers from some bias), and dissent from society’s various wing nuts. Medical scholars might understandably feel dismayed at having to debate vaccine-conspiracy theorists like Jenny McCarthy. But refusing to openly debate fuels the conspiracy theory that professional science has something to hide.

In the case of climate science, the debates can help teach people to critically evaluate different sources of information and educate them about the complexities of the issue. Surveys of scientists suggest a consensus of 95 to 97 percent. Nonetheless, that other 3 to 5 percent are worth listening to. Good theory and data must survive in the marketplace of ideas, including bad ideas.

Second, refusing to debate hardly deprives marginal views of a platform. Particularly in an era of social media, and a time when science is used as a test of political affiliation, plenty of platforms exist for the most outlandish ideas. Poor thinking rarely withers on the vine without confrontation. Refusing to debate only increases the credibility of outlandish views, by making science appear weak and unwilling to defend itself.

Another objection to public debates about climate science is that they would be a political circus. Of that I have no doubt. Climate scientists more open to a red-team/blue-team debate have argued that it may help elevate the field in the eyes of political conservatives. But would it be a trial to debate science in an openly hostile setting? Absolutely. Come prepared.

Part of that preparation is being cordial and open to critics’ valid points. An antagonistic debate such as the one a few years ago between Robin McKie, science-and-technology editor of The Observer, and Benny Peiser, a social anthropologist and climate-change skeptic, probably won’t move things along much. An unfortunate facet of science defenders in recent years has been their name-calling — “deniers,” “anti-vaxxers,” etc. Insulting wide segments of the public is unlikely to win converts to the scientific cause.

Would a high-quality, data-based debate convince all skeptics? Certainly not. But scientists need to be willing to bring their data to the public, offer that data in the marketplace of ideas, and argue why it, and not conspiracy theories, should guide public policy. This will require courage, a sense of humor, and the willingness to be humiliated by politicians acting in bad faith. But aren’t the consequences of not talking worse?

Christopher J. Ferguson is a professor of psychology at Stetson University and co-author, with Patrick M. Markey, of Moral Combat: Why the War on Violent Video Games Is Wrong (BenBella Books).