A Few Good Scientists
In every place of knowledge, there is a statue dedicated to one of the great martyrs of science. He carefully studied the data and came to the conclusion that his people were doomed if action was not immediately taken. For this effort, he was mocked, derided, and ultimately ignored. And, as a result, millions died.
I speak, of course, of Jor-El, Superman's father (his biological father, not the Midwestern hillbilly who adopted him). The destruction of Krypton was the tragic result of science being ignored, and every scientist keeps the lesson of Jor-El in mind whenever he finds himself mocked for warning of an impending catastrophe or questioned for launching his children into space unattended.
And history repeats itself with climate change. We tell you people of the imminent dangers from the earth warming, and what do you do? You mock us. You question our motives. People who can't even convert Fahrenheit to Celsius try and tell us we did the science wrong. Now emails have leaked from the Climate Research Unit that apparently show that scientists were fixing the data and trying to suppress the scientific research of dissenters, and you people demand answers from us. I have one thing to say to that. How dare you!
You do not understand the first thing about climate research. Man-made global warming is settled science. Disaster is imminent. We know this. It is a fact. We don't waste time on studies that say otherwise, the same way we don't waste time on studies that assert that the earth is flat. We are very smart people, and when we say something is so, you should just accept it.
So you think what is in those emails is important? Well, what exactly do you know? Do you see the white lab coats we wear? That color symbolizes pure science. Were someone like you to wear one, within five minutes it would be stained with neon orange powdered cheese and wet with drool from you trying to comprehend the data sets people like me look at every day.
We are out there trying to stave off global disaster, telling you what political and economic changes you need to make in order to survive. We do the things that you find too complex or too boring to do. One would think that would engender gratitude -- or maybe even awe at our abilities -- yet you troglodytes cling to everything you can use to second-guess us. Every time it's a bit cold out, you doubt us. Every time one little piece of data has to be revised, you question us. And now some emails make you think you can just throw out everything we've done?
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