With Climate Change, Not All Wildlife Population Shifts Are Predictable

UMass Amherst ecologists find surprise distribution shift in 17-year mountain bird study

November 28, 2016

AMHERST, Mass. – Wildlife ecologists who study the effects of climate change assume, with support from several studies, that warming temperatures caused by climate change are forcing animals to move either northward or upslope on mountainsides to stay within their natural climate conditions.

But a new study of lowland and higher-mountain bird species by wildlife ecologists Bill DeLuca and David King at the University of Massachusetts Amherst now reports an unexpected and “unprecedented” inconsistency in such shifts. The majority of the mountain bird community responded against expectation and shifted downslope despite warming trends in the mountains. They say the result “highlights the need for caution when applying conventional expectations to species’ responses to climate change.”

In their article in the current issue of Journal of Ornithology, DeLuca and King say that although other studies have found species shifting either downslope or toward the equator, the opposite of expectations given the warming climate, theirs is the first to find that the majority of the bird community is responding contrary to these expectations.

DeLuca says of the unexpected shift among many bird species, “This is really important information for mountains in the northeastern U.S. like the White Mountains, Green Mountains and the Adirondacks. It helps to confirm that human activities like climate change, pollution and land management are affecting the distribution of mountain species.”

Species shifts up and down mountainsides have been documented around the world but this is the first time that recent elevational shifts of birds have been found in the northeastern United States, they add. It should be noted that in this study, the lowland bird community shifted upslope over the 17-year study period, consistent with expectations given recent warming in the region.

The researchers analyzed 28 bird species including yellow-bellied flycatcher, white-throated sparrow, winter wren, Swainson’s thrush, Nashville warbler, yellow-rumped warbler and dark-eyed junco and measured the elevations of their distribution along 42 mountainsides in the White Mountains of New Hampshire from 1993 to 2009.

The authors report that as predicted, the upper elevation boundary of nine out of 16 lowland species showed evidence of shifting upslope an average of 99 meters [about 325 feet] over the study period. But, they add, “contrary to our expectations, nine out of 11 mountain birds shifted their lower boundaries downslope an average of 19 meters [about 62 feet] over the 17-year study period.”

A possible explanation for the observation might be changes in forest composition, DeLuca and King suggest. For example, red spruce and paper birch have declined (due in part to acid rain) in the ecotone, the transition between the lower elevation deciduous forest and the higher elevation coniferous forest, and “the void left by the decline of spruce and birch has, in part, been filled by balsam fir.” Further, “all of the high-elevation species we found to be shifting downslope are closely associated with balsam fir,” meaning these birds may be following suitable habitat.

The warming climate at mid elevations might be driving the march of lowland elevations upslope they say. Based on work from the Mount Washington Observatory, the mid elevations around Mount Washington are warming. “If lowland species are limited by cooler temperatures, this mid-elevation warming might enable them to follow the warmer temps upslope” explains DeLuca.

For this work, trained observers from the White Mountain National Forest surveyed birds using five-minute point counts at fixed survey locations between 740 meters (about 2,440 feet) and 1470 m (4,800 ft.) annually from 1993 to 2000, then in 2003, 2005, 2007, and 2009. For a point count, all birds seen or heard are recorded as being either less than or greater than 50 meters from the observer. Surveys were conducted once per year during the breeding season in June. The observers surveyed a total of 768 locations on 42 separate transects along hiking trails.

Overall, 82 percent, or nine of the 11 high elevation species analyzed showed evidence of shifting downslope, while 10 of 16 or 63 percent of lowland species showed evidence of shifting upslope.

This work was supported by the White Mountain National Forest and the U.S. Forest Service Northern Research Station.

LEAVING CLIMATE SCIENTISTS IN CHARGE OF OUR RESPONSES TO CLIMATE CHANGE IS WRONG

Climate change and the social sciences

October 04, 2016

Reiner Grundmann 

Climate change is an important topic for society but it seems that social scientists could do a better job in addressing it.

Let me explain. Saying that climate change is important for society means that it is a social problem. However, it tends to be treated as a problem for climate science, and a problem of communication of the ‘correct’ understanding of the problem. Saying that social scientists could do a better job in addressing it implies that there are some shortcomings. And it raises the question what addressing the problem could mean.

Recently I published a comment in Nature Geoscience, arguing that climate change is a wicked social problem. Developed in urban policy, the term ‘wicked problem’ denotes ‘[t]he kinds of problems that planners deal with–societal problems–are inherently different from the problems that scientists and perhaps some classes of engineers deal with. Planning problems are inherently wicked.’
Social problems are never solved. At best they are only re-solved — over and over again. They can be managed better or worse.  Examples of ‘tame’ or ‘benign’ problems are: solving an equation; analyzing the structure of some unknown chemical substance; or attempting checkmate in five moves. In each case we know if we have succeeded or not. Examples of wicked problems are: crime, drug use, poverty, health provision, employment, education, and so on. Success criteria are inherently political, and subject to change. It is not realistic to imagine a zero rate of crime as a feasible policy goal. Policy makers know this, as does the public at large. There are no big scientific assessments, let alone a scientific consensus needed to advise policy. Steps are taken incrementally, and pragmatically. Evidence does play a role, but so do cultural values. What works in one place might be inspiration for others, but no guarantee that it works there as well.

In climate change assessments the main social science discipline is economics. Others are under-represented. This may have to do with the obvious expertise of economists in delivering cost benefit analyses for all kind of policy proposals and a preference for models and numeric indicators, much like climate scientists. But this under representation may also be the result of a self-imposed restraint from the other social sciences outside orthodox economics. Analyzing climate change as a social construct does not seem right when the political right in the USA and elsewhere has got its teeth into it. Besides, many left leaning social scientists hope for a decisive government intervention which they believe is more likely if based on a strong scientific consensus. No matter what qualms one might have with science elsewhere (GMOs, big pharma, badger culls…) in climate change science seems to help a progressive cause. But such quiescent politics is bad professionally, and it is counter-productive politically. The social sciences need to do a better job.

Can society solve the problem of climate change? Which indicators, metrics or observations would tell us that we have succeeded, or failed? Much depends on how we define climate change, and how we define climate policy. As has been noted long ago, but little noticed in the scholarly community, there are two radically different definitions of climate change, provided by two authoritative international organizations in charge of the problem. The United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) defines climate change as “a change of climate that is attributed directly or indirectly to human activity, that alters the composition of the global atmosphere, and that is in addition to natural climate variability over comparable time periods.” By contrast, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) defines climate change broadly as “any change in climate over time whether due to natural variability or as a result of human activity.”
If one were to adopt the UNFCCC definition, it would seem that only anthropogenic factors should be taken into account, with natural drivers of climate change being left out. There are three problems with this approach. First, it would limit our interventions (climate policies) to a narrowly defined set of variables, and prioritize mitigation over adaptation. Many commentators and participants in the climate change discourse essentially transform the problem of climate change into a problem of low carbon energy provision. Climate policy becomes energy policy. Second, it neglects the ultra-complex interconnections between variables in the climate system which means that one intervention at one point in time (or over a period of time) may have unintended and unforeseen consequences in another part of the system. The social world is part of this interconnected system and people’s needs and desires may run counter to some of the interventions. Third, separating the anthropogenic from the natural drivers of climate change leads into absurd policy consequences.  Nevertheless, it has been discussed, for example, how to allocate aid to developing countries on the basis of such a calculus.

If we take the IPCC definition of climate change, “any change in climate over time whether due to natural variability or as a result of human activity”, we realize how difficult it is to ‘address’ the issue as such, and that it may well be impossible to go about ‘solving’ it.

This conclusion from the literature of wicked problems, as applied to climate change, has led to animated debates (see for example, here, here, and here). Commentators (mostly from the natural sciences) interpreted this as defeatism, as giving up on the problem, as antagonizing the science community, or as alienating the climate negotiators. In fact, nothing of the sort follows from my argument and many comments of my Nature piece were misunderstandings, some genuine, some based on motivated reasoning or arrogant dismissal.

If we take a step back and consider other social problems, we should be able to see the important feature that they have in common with climate change. Consider unemployment. Governments are concerned if the rate of unemployment is rising, or stays high. All kinds of social problems seem to follow, from rising crime, drug use, suicides to the boost for right wing parties. Economic growth and government policies are seen as the appropriate tools to keep unemployment at bay. Much debate occurs about the appropriate tools and the attribution of responsibility. History tells us that only under exceptional circumstances will unemployment be reduced to (near-)zero. What counts as success in addressing the problem is always contested. And, not to forget, impression management is important. We have ample experience with the definition of unemployment in several advanced economies.
Climate change has many similarities to this example. Yet, it was never defined in these terms but as a problem with a unique solution, which was provided by science. This could happen because climate change entered the stage of world politics after successful policies to protect the ozone layer were being implemented. Hence, historical path dependency has led many to believe climate change is like ozone protection, that the Kyoto Protocol should imitate the Montreal Protocol, and the lessons learnt from ozone should be taken on board for climate. What were these lessons?

The role of science was seen as the driving force behind the success in Montreal. An important reason was thought to be the unified assessments under the umbrella of WMO and UNEP. The reports were meant to ‘speak truth to power’. More importantly, it was widely believed that a scientific consensus would translate into political consensus. Getting the science right was seen a precondition for good policy. Not only that: warning of the consequences of inaction was part of the scientific message and believed to be essential for motivating decision makers to take appropriate action. However, the Montreal Protocol was not based on a science consensus, and not driven by atmospheric science. It was driven by a change in interest constellations across major actors in the policy domain (the European Community, the USA, and CFC manufacturers).

Influential narratives about the genesis of the Montreal Protocol maintain that not only was the process science driven, but that there was a scientific consensus that led to the political agreement. Unified scientific assessments conducted under the auspices of WMO-UNEP were allegedly instrumental in this regard. However, a somewhat closer look reveals that ozone depletion as a scientific issue is still an active field of research, and, more importantly, that before the Montreal Protocol no such consensus existed. The process was driven by changing political constellations (mainly a U-turn of big chemical companies and the European Community), accompanied by a hot crisis signal (the phenomenon called the ‘ozone hole’, for details, see here.)

Following the example of unified assessments, the IPCC started producing state of the art assessments every five years or so, beginning in 1988. Again, the hope was that a scientific consensus could be achieved which would translate into a political consensus. The science relied in both cases on models, observations, and other data, especially using information that could be used as alarm signals that would galvanize the policy world. This was based on the experience of the ozone layer where factual crisis signals entered the policy domain at a critical juncture (just before decisive negotiations in Montreal).

Some commentators and activists suggest that the scientific consensus is instrumental for good climate policy. Lack of political progress is thus attributed to misinformation about  ‘the science’, or unawareness of the scientific consensus. Skeptical voices are blamed for this state of affairs, and the allegedly ‘balanced reporting’ by the mass media which gives too much room to skeptical voices–but more recent research suggests their visibility pales in comparison to the mainstream. However, a focus on winning a media war is risky business. If climate policy is justified with science, opponents of the policy will attack the science. Instead of discussions about climate policy we tend to get discussions about the veracity of anthropogenic global warming.

Another important principle that was developed in relation to ozone was the idea that the science could identify global targets and timetables. These principles were introduced into a policy framework that has been described as a ‘global managerial approach’. Abatement strategies were formulated, trying to get binding agreements on targets and timetables. In ozone, industry resisted this approach for a long time, arguing that these goals were not feasible. Over time, this claim proved wrong. Industry was able to over fulfil the seemingly ambitious plans. Hopes were raised to repeat the same feature in climate policy.

Hopes were similar with regard to the modest reduction targets established in 1997 in Kyoto (5% on average). But in climate policy, the global approach based on targets and timetables ran into deep problems. Greenhouse gases are tightly linked to economic activity and infrastructures of cities, industries, and agriculture. Aggressive reduction policies have negative economic impacts which explain the reluctance of all governments in this regard. When they come together at climate negotiations they all prefer others to do something so they can continue their business as usual.  Despite all the grandstanding by politicians to ‘redouble our efforts at saving the planet’, all governments in the global negotiations want a free ride, and sell it at home as the best deal available to tackle climate change.

Many countries have adopted various measures to claim GHG emission reductions leading to a very complex picture of relative competitive advantage. Using appropriate metrics, most countries can make the case that they have contributed to emission reductions. They have either reduced emissions (often by exporting them), avoided emissions (as through China’s one child policy), or emitted much less CO2 per capita than the global average (as is the case in many developing countries). This pattern has led countries into a deadlock at the international negotiations.

In the case of climate change another level of complexity is added through the existence of sinks for GHGs. In ozone such sinks had been hypothesized but ultimately the only significant sink proved to be photolysis of CFCs in the upper stratosphere, where ozone is destroyed as a result. In climate two much discussed sinks are reforestation and ocean fertilization. Reforestation has been part of the UNFCCC process since 2003, leading to controversies. Some argue the incentive to reforestation has perverse effects, leading to deforestation in the first instance. An FAO report claims that ‘[s]ome 40 to 50 percent of plantations in the Asia-Pacific have been established by clearing natural forests, rather than by using degraded or abandoned lands.’ Ocean fertilization is a technology forming part of a geoengineering solution, another hotly contested prospect.

As the above makes clear, all eyes are on mitigation strategies, with some attention to remediation (geo-engineering). Adaptation had been an afterthought in ozone, and has remained so in the case of climate. Again the path dependent nature of climate policy might be able to explain this. In the run-up to the Montreal negotiations US interior secretary Hodel argued against signing an international agreement on CFCs. Instead he proposed a ‘personal protection plan’. The Washington Post carried the headline: ‘Administration Ozone Policy may Favor Sunglasses, Hats’. The Wall Street Journal titled: ‘Advice on Ozone May Be: Wear Hats and Stand in the Shade’. Hodel was quoted in the following words: ‘People who don’t stand out in the sun–it doesn’t affect them’ (see Grundmann 2001). This was proposed as an alternative to regulating CFCs. Apparently the proposal was leaked in order to ridicule Hodel, and the proposal never was taken seriously.

Critics of Hodel pointed out that we need to act before it is too late. The strategy which has a main focus on mitigation prevailed and was enshrined in the Montreal treaty. However, it was not a real prospect to avoid ozone depletion. This was already occurring as a result of previously accumulated emissions, given their long lifetime (a feature ODS share with many GHGs, especially CO2). Being prudent in the sunshine has become good public health advice across the globe. We see this juxtaposition of mitigation versus adaptation in the climate case as well. It has led to the near absence of adaptation in the public discourse on climate, and in priorities of climate policy. Scientists and decision makers often frame the problem in terms as if climate change could be prevented. Based on past and current emissions we are committed to climate change; it is in the pipeline so to speak.

Neglecting adaptation is bad public policy.
Nevertheless, adaptation is still seen by some as giving in to the climate change skeptics. On the contrary, it is a consequence of the UNFCCC definition of climate change. A good climate policy will protect communities from the consequences of climate change, no matter if caused by nature or humans. We don’t need to know if a hurricane or flooding was man-made in order to protect ourselves.
Treating ozone and climate with the same principles when it comes to policy making raises even more important questions. These have to do with the dominance of climate science and climate scientists in the policy debate, disregarding professional expertise in the social and policy sciences. After all, the assumption that climate change could be solved applying the same principles seems to rest on the assumption that both cases belong to the same class of problems. However, this assumption was never examined or questioned (exceptions can be found in the work of Prins and Rayner and Rayner and Caine).

Tame problems, such as the ozone case, do have stopping rules. We know at which point we have succeeded, there is a list of agreed-upon solutions. Going back to pre-industrial levels of chlorine loading of the atmosphere was the obvious target in ozone policy, and the success can be measured against this baseline. Ceasing production of ozone depleting substances is the only tool needed in this effort. There is a technical solution that could be identified scientifically, and implemented via a global treaty and ensuing national implementation. Still, the problem was not easy, and a political controversy engulfed the scientific debate, with several countries aligned in different camps. Business refused CFC controls for a long time as a matter of principle, as it did not want to accept regulations based on ‘scientific hypotheses’.

Climate change does not have such a stopping rule. We do not know if, and when we have succeeded solving the problem. Various metrics have been suggested to measure and monitor progress, or to establish success criteria: CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere, remaining carbon budgets, global average warming of surface temperatures, or heat content in the oceans. The timeframes for these targets vary by decades. What a safe limit is depends on who you ask, as Fred Pearce put it.
There is no lack of suggested practical solutions either. They include rolling out nuclear power plants across the globe; switching all energy supply to solar, wind or biofuels; transforming our lifestyles; taxing carbon with low or high rates; implementing emission trading systems; developing geo-engineering projects; adopting vegetarian or vegan diets and lifestyles; or abolishing capitalism. Advocates of these proposals quote the scientific consensus about the reality of anthropogenic climate change and the need for decarbonization of the economy. But climate science does not help us choosing between these options. These solutions, if implemented, would lead to radically different social realities. Some of these solutions might lead to more catastrophic changes than global warming itself; the remedy could be worse than the disease.

After years of unsuccessful climate negotiations trying to mimic the top down, target and timetable approach, the COP 21 in Paris 2015 took a different approach. For the first time in decades the proposition became acceptable to follow a bottom up approach, and to listen to what nation states put on the table as realistic goals (so-called ‘pledges’). This approach, which dates back to a UN meeting in Bali in 2007 where Nationally Appropriate Mitigation Actions (NAMAs) were proposed, was long seen as inadequate and shying away from the real tasks. It is therefore a positive sign when the international community takes a fresh approach, taking stock of the unsuccessful previous top down attempts. However, the problem still remains how these pledges can be implemented in each country, and how effective they are in staying within the goal of limiting global average temperature increase to below 2 degrees.

The fact that COP21 was able to turn a fresh page (despite some justified skepticism about the feasibility of the pledges to achieve warming limits) indicates that path dependent processes can be unlocked under certain conditions. This process needs to continue. The issue of adaptation needs a massive boost on the political agenda; and the demand for social science expertise needs to match the science and modelling expertise in the IPCC and other forms of policy advice. After all, the work of climate science has been done to a large degree. We now need to realize that climate change is also, and perhaps first of all, a social, economic, and political issue. It is high time the expertise of relevant communities is recognized and assembled.

Ozone depletion is a tame problem that can be tackled through an engineering logic. The problem could be described and decomposed into smaller parts, targets could be identified and solutions could be suggested. The success criteria were given by the clear distinction between a world before and after CFC emissions.

Climate change has been forced into the same logic but escapes it. Climate Change is a wicked problem, like other social problems. It is not amenable to a global managerial solution with an engineering logic applied to it. Such a logic diverts our attention away from what matters with regard to climate change in society. Not everyone agrees that climate policy can or should be reduced to energy policy. As Sheila Jasanoff has argued, ‘there is a need for “technologies of humility” to complement the predictive approaches: to make apparent the possibility of unforeseen consequences; to make explicit the normative that lurks within the technical; and to acknowledge from the start the need for plural viewpoints and collective learning.’

By adopting questionable lessons from the ozone case and applying them to climate, we have for a long time reinforced a process that was counterproductive. One could say that, ironically, the success of ozone protection has led to problems in climate change policy. In order to overcome these problems, new approaches are needed. The breakaway from top down, global managerial approaches is a first step. This needs to be followed by other steps, by recognizing adaptation as a policy priority, by listening to social science expertise, and by taking pragmatic steps in dealing with the climate problem. This requires the attention of social scientists who should study climate change as a social problem.

Reiner Grundmann is Professor of Science and Technology Studies at the University of Nottingham. His main research interest is the relation between knowledge and decision making. In recent years he has been studying the public discourse on climate change where the role of scientific experts, lay audiences, decision makers and the mass media are crucially important.

The Myth of Putin

Russia’s appearance of strength is eroding. George Friedman, Geopolitical Futures

The cover of the latest issue of the Economist features Russian President Vladimir Putin with a blackened face and glowing eyes. It is now official: Putin, and Putinism, are the work of the devil. That doesn’t simply mean that he is evil, but that, like the devil, Putin is powerful enough to face God and compete for souls. It also means that Russia, the country at the heart of the collapsed Soviet Union, has returned and is resuming its place as a global nightmare. From Aleppo to the Democratic National Committee (DNC), the Russians are stalking the earth, terrifying their neighbors and slapping around a feckless United States. If this sounds like 1980, it should. But then, remember that the demon that loomed over the world in 1980 collapsed a decade later. Russia is an enormously weak country that Putin is working desperately to make appear far more powerful than it is. He is doing extremely well at creating that illusion. There is a saying that perception is reality. That saying is rubbish. If it were true, reality would never have caught up with the perceptions surrounding the subprime crisis. Germany would have won the Battle of Britain, and – for that matter – the Soviet Union would still exist. Perception can buy time and time can, sometimes, change reality. But sometimes all that perception puts off is the inevitable, and in my view that is the case with Russia.

Russian President Vladimir Putin and Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev meet with workers as they visit the site of the under-construction bridge across the Kerch Strait, which will link Russia and the Crimean peninsula, in Kerch on Sept. 15, 2016. ALEXEI DRUZHININ/AFP/Getty Images

Russia’s fundamental problem is economic. Energy sales underwrite a significant part of the Russian national budget and the price of energy has fallen since 2014. In a society still shaped from the center, a budget crisis at the federal level poses a severe challenge. Russia has been in a deep recession for almost two years. According to the Russian finance minister, the government’s primary reserve fund, which was $91.7 billion in September 2014, will be exhausted by the end of 2017.

During the Soviet decline in the 1980s, and throughout the 1990s, the evidence of economic destabilization was subtler in Moscow and St. Petersburg than in the smaller cities and towns and the countryside that constitute the heart of Russia. It was here that life became disastrous. And this was the region that saw Putin as the solution to its problems. And Putin was, for about a decade, the solution. He did two things. First, he used oil revenues to create the foundations of a bearable, if not affluent, standard of living. Second, he restored the perception that Russia is a big player on the world stage. This was a region of deep patriotism. The poverty that came with Boris Yeltsin generated both a cynicism and a lack of faith in the system. Putin made life bearable and made it clear that Russia was back.

There is a belief that poverty in Russia poses less of a threat to the regime than it does in other countries. This is true, but with a strong caveat. If the Russians believe that their suffering is in the name of a state that stands with and for them, they will endure. This is why Josef Stalin could call on Russians to fight, starve and die. The Russians believed he was with and for them. It was why the Soviet Union collapsed and Yeltsin nearly plunged the country over the edge. No one believed that Leonid Brezhnev, Yuri Andropov, Konstantin Chernenko and least of all Mikhail Gorbachev cared about them. And certainly no one believed Yeltsin did. But Putin made them believe that he cared about them, and he made them feel that he would not only feed them, but that he would make all the suffering worthwhile. He convinced them that he was a winner.

The problem was in an economic failure so fundamental that it is frequently ignored. When Putin took power, wealth was in the hands of a dozen or so oligarchs, and the economy and Russian power depended on energy, which was the source of revenue and leverage over nations reliant on Russian supplies. In many ways, Russia was like Saudi Arabia in the 1970s. Putin’s task was to build a modern economy in Russia using the revenue from energy as investment capital. It was a daunting task and he failed at it. This strategy made Russia dependent on something it didn’t control – energy prices. And since energy prices have historically fluctuated, Putin’s primary strategy was to hope that prices would stay high – but that hope ran out in 2014.

Energy prices fell because there was worldwide economic stagnation and oversupply. A vague hope was that Russia and Saudi Arabia could force the price up by cutting production. But the Saudis were issuing bonds to raise money and the Russians had months to go before reserves were exhausted. Cutting production meant cutting income, but once production resumed to make up lost income, prices would quickly decline. The math didn’t work.

The situation in the regions grew harsher, and Putin was forced to focus on building patriotism to show that the privation was worth it, for it had made Russia great again. But Putin could not simply assert this, he had to show it. He had to demonstrate his power in the only way possible, by confronting the United States.

This became even more important after the pro-Russian government in Ukraine was deposed. Putin pointed to the seizure of something his forces effectively held – Crimea – and the rising in eastern Ukraine as evidence of his power. He gave Russians a sense of being under siege but, given that the rising only reached a stalemate at best, he did not give them a sense of ultimate victory. He therefore dueled with the United States rhetorically, using the apparent clumsiness of President Barack Obama to demonstrate his skill. But in the end, the Russian economy was in a tailspin and Ukraine was lost. The appearance of besting the United States was colliding with the reality of Russian weakness.

The Russian move into Syria was the response. The Russians have no strategic interests in Syria. There have been attempts to figure out why Russia intervened and what its end game is. Its intervention is limited and it is bogged down, just as the Americans are. Even if Aleppo falls, the war isn’t over. Yet they are there.

One theory is that Putin intervened in Syria because he believed Russia’s control over gas supplies to Europe was under threat. Perhaps, but any potential pipeline going through Iraq and war-torn Syria was unrealistic in the first place. Plus, a military operation to secure a pipeline (or to block one, whatever the case may be) makes little sense. Another theory is that Russia wants a naval base in Syria. That is possible, but it makes little military sense. Naval bases and operations depend on extensive logistical support for food, munitions and so on. These supplies are far too extensive to be flown in. And anything that would come to Syria from Russia by sea would come through the Bosporus. That is controlled by Turkey, and the U.S. Sixth Fleet could easily block exits. A naval base in Syria is more a liability than a warfighting asset.

But the Russians were not in Syria to save Bashar al-Assad, control pipelines, build naval facilities or intimidate the United States. They were there so Putin could appear to be more powerful than he was, and that was primarily for the benefit of his public. As the economy weakened and privations increased, he had to give it all a meaning, and Syria made him appear to be restoring Russia’s greatness. Convincing Western public opinion of his power was of secondary value, and in the course he made the cover of the Economist.

A range of impressive but ultimately meaningless actions accompanied all this. Hacking the into the emails of the DNC and John Podesta – assuming Russia was responsible – ultimately seems to have had no impact on the elections, nor did Putin’s praise of Donald Trump. Constant and intense military maneuvers along Russia’s borders alarmed those who wished to be alarmed, but did not cause massive buildups or concern that Putin could use domestically as proof of his power.

We are now at the point where reality diverges from perception. Russia is moving into a hard winter. The opportunity to appear to be a great power by influencing American elections is ending, and the Russians’ participation in the Syrian war is moving into a phase well known to the United States: wondering what they are doing there.

Don’t get me wrong. I was warning about the re-emergence of Russia before 2008. I was confident we were moving into a mini-cold war with Russia. But I was also warning at the time that Russia did not have the ability to win or even survive such a mild confrontation. The Soviet Union fell when it was forced into an arms race it couldn’t afford by Ronald Reagan and when oil prices fell in the 1980s. That has happened again, and Russia is much weaker than the Soviets were. A confrontation on its western front was in the cards and has occurred. And as is the Russian wont, they played a weak hand brilliantly. But now, as I said, the winter comes.

MY ADVICE TO THE PREMIER

I once had Colin Barnett’s confidence. It lasted about 10 minutes when he asked me to comment on the farming property he’d recently purchased near Toodyay and, with my background in landcare, I was able to point out various features on the aerial photograph he put in front of me.

At the time – about 2002 - Colin was the leader of the opposition and I was the shadow minister for the environment. I fell foul of Liberal Party preselection games and Troy Buswell took my seat at the 2005 election, in spite of my attempts to warn the Party and the electorate what to expect from him. Since then, I’ve been a keen observer of state politics but not an active participant. So what would I say to the Premier if I had his confidence again?

I’d make two main points. The first is that the Liberal Nationals government seems to be devoid of policy initiatives relevant to most West Australians. While I can understand the Premier’s desire to give the state economy an economic boost via major construction projects such as new hospitals and a new football stadium, the end of the mining boom has brought higher unemployment and lower incomes. At the same time, doing business with government has remained tied up with green, red and black tape, with no real desire by the current government to address these impediments to growth and jobs.

What the Premier and his government desperately need are new policy commitments – not promises - that will make genuine differences to the lives of ordinary West Australians. It’s not good enough for people such as Transport Minister Dean Nalder to publicise a 50 year transport plan for Perth that commits the government to no actions within the next decade. And the problems of the new Fiona Stanley Hospital are forcing the government’s most competent minister John Day to defend problems outside of the government’s control, giving free kicks to an opposition that knows what it’s opposed to but is generally silent on how it would do things differently.

So, Premier, tell your ministers and their public servants to come up with policy ideas that will benefit West Australians in both the short and long term and then you as Premier bring the best ideas to cabinet for a decision. Mega-projects like the new football stadium have their benefits, but most people want less congestion on our roads, reduced bushfire risks, the causes of juvenile crime to be addressed rather than their symptoms and better education for our children without throwing money at union-supported theories that are now shown to not benefit students’ learning.

Which leads on to my second point. Premier, you are the head of a team of people – your ministers. Accept that they and the people who work for them are generally trying to do the right thing by the state’s citizens. Involve them in the day-to-day media reporting of news. Voters want to know that they are electing or re-electing a competent team to govern them, not just a competent leader. Mark McGowan doesn’t hesitate to stand behind his shadow ministers when they have something important to say; you should learn to allow your team members to also be seen as the faces of the government that you and they want re-elected next March.

Your team also includes all of your backbenchers, who perform the critical task of informing you and the government what the electorate is concerned about. Listen to them and include them in your decision-making processes.

The Labor government of Geoff Gallop was elected in 2001 because the Richard Court government became embroiled in internal factional fights, with the post-election proposal to parachute Julie Bishop into the state parliament to lead the Liberal opposition as one example of how party power brokers were more focused on retaining their influence rather than retaining government. The media loves to report bad news and your current focus on big projects is supplying only bad news stories, so change your focus.

The recent private poll paid for by three prominent businessmen shows that the disunity lessons from 2001 have been forgotten. Electors don’t give a toss about polls and popularity ratings and internal power plays. They simply want good government and, with less than six months to the next state election, the ball is in your court, Premier. Encourage your team to work harder and allow them to be more in the public view so that the public can better understand you’re asking them to vote for the Liberal team in March, not just for a Liberal Premier.

And take the initiative back from the Labor Party. Tell us what your government will do for the rest of this term and what you will do for the next four years, should you be re-elected. If people believe that you have their interests at heart and are listening to their concerns, they’ll vote for you. If you continue to make vague policy statements and act as a one man band, expect Mark McGowan’s team to take office next year.

Bernie Masters

Member for Vasse 1996-2005

Shadow Minister for Science and Environment, 2001-2004.

The Zika Virus And Politicized Science

The Zika Virus And Politicized Science

Peter Schwartz, Distinguished Fellow, Ann Rand Institute.

Published by The Huffington Post.  August 22, 2016

Science today is regularly distorted to serve other ends. The religious right, for instance, claims that "creationism" should be taught in public schools as a scientific alternative to the theory of evolution. The environmentalist left, for instance, claims science reveals genetically modified foods to be harmful to one's health. Both groups subordinate the facts of science to other considerations, whether Biblical or logical.

The same dishonesty is shaping the response to the Zika.

The Zika threat is causing great concern at the Rio Olympics, with some athletes having chosen to avoid the Games altogether rather than risk infection. Florida recently reported the first locally contracted cases of Zika in the United States. And the Centers for Disease Control is advising pregnant women to travel to certain I areas of Miami—the first time the agency has ever issued such a warning for the I continental U.S.

But among the measures is notably absent the use of DOT.

Zika is carried by mosquitoes, and DOT has been highly effective in eliminating mosquito-borne diseases. India, for example, had 75 million malaria cases in 1953, but only 50,000 by 1961, after DOT had been introduced. In Sri Lanka close to 3 million cases of malaria occurred in 1948; 15 years later, owing to DOT, the number dropped to 17. The National Academy of Sciences stated in 1970: "To only a few chemicals does man owe as great a debt as to DOT... It is estimated J that in little more than two decades DOT has prevented 500 million deaths due to

But strong opposition to DOT arose, spurred by the 1962 publication of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. Environmentalists got DOT banned in the U.S. and, eventually, in dozens of other countries. Western nations, which fund anti-malaria J campaigns throughout the world, largely refused to underwrite any efforts that I employed DOT As a result, DOT use shrank—and malaria surged.

In India the number of cases increased to 30 million in 1977. In Sri Lanka the number went to 2.5 million in 1969. More recently, other forms of malaria control—such as installing bed-netting and reducing the presence of standing water—have lowered the incidence of the disease worldwide. But they are generally less effective than DOT. In South Africa, for example, after DOT spraying was halted in 1996, malaria infections rose from under 5,000 in 1995 to over 60,000 in 2000. At which point DOT was reproduced—and six months later the number dropped by half.

This hostility to DOT was not based on science. For instance, DOT was said to be carcinogenic, because of studies in which mice developed liver tumors—but only after receiving doses of DOT 100,000 times higher than what a person would typically absorb (source.) Further, the opponents of DOT ignored many facts contradicting their views—such as the fact that during the period of highest DOT use (1944-1972), deaths from liver cancer fell by 30 percent (source)—or that workers who regularly handled DOT were found to have no higher rates of cancer than the general population (source)—or that people who voluntarily ingested DOT daily for up to two years suffered no ill effects (source)—or that the amount of DOT (per kilogram of body weight) required to kill mice is greater than that of aspirin.

What, then, was the motive behind the anti-DDT crusade? It was based on the premise that the man-made is inherently suspect—that the natural is good and the non-natural is bad, that human "intervention" in nature is deleterious and that we have to protect nature from man, not for man. The millions of lives saved by our "non-organic" use of DOT—and the millions lost when it was not used—were disregarded. Instead, the thinning of the eggshells of the bald eagle was presented as an intolerable effect of DOT.

As explained by David Graber, a biologist with the National Park Service, environmentalists:

.. value wilderness for its own sake, not for what value it confers upon mankind.. .. We are not interested in the utility of a particular species, o, free-flowing river or ecosystem to mankind. They have intrinsic value, mi value—to me—than another human body or a billion of them.

True, there is evidence that some mosquitoes are developing resistance to DOT. But even where DDT's toxicity has been diminished, its repellent properties still work. When house walls are sprayed with DOT, even resistant mosquitoes are repulsed and don't enter. More important, though, one's attitude should be: 'If DDT's effectiveness is lessening, let's find some way to make it work better." Instead, the operating premise seems to be: "Man-made chemicals interfere with nature, so let's find some way to prohibit them."

Man survives and prospers, not by living "in harmony" with nature, but by reshaping it—by creating houses and roads and factories out of the wilderness, by transforming nature into a tool that serves human purposes. The problem with environmentalists is not that they have an ideology, but that it is an ideology with an inverted standard of value. It is an ideology that regards the very means of human flourishing as destructive. In assessing DOT, therefore, if your overriding concern is to restructure nature in order to promote man's well-being, then you will focus on whether DOT does in fact save human lives. If, however, your overriding concern is to preserve nature against human encroachment, then you will focus on the "evil" of injecting chemicals into nature's domain. And you will be drawn to any arbitrary claim about adverse consequences of those chemicals.

My primary aim here is not to argue for the use of DOT, but to underscore the need

for objectivity is dealing with such issues. We should not uncritically accept the assertions of those who are hostile to technology and industrialization. We should not accept any allegations of some product's harmfulness—say, that DOT causes Alzheimer's, or that vaccines cause autism or that tracking causes earthquakes —without being certain they rest on genuine, unpoliticized science.

Follow Peter Schwartz on Twitter www.twitter.corn/PSchwartzlDS