
Sometimes neophytes make the best writers because they refuse to follow the rules and actually put what they think down on paper. That is certainly the case with James Hansen’s Storms of My Grandchildren.
Since James Hansen is a NASA scientist best known for climate research that supports the Global Warming hypothesis, I expected a book about Climate Change. Instead I found an expose written by a very angry man who feels disappointed by the institutions he’s loyally worked for all of his life.
Hansen’s anger is well placed especially his anger at the politicization of science in the United States. He accuses both the Clinton and Bush II administrations of trying to suppress scientific research and data they didn’t like. Worse he describes a growing tendency to manipulate releases of scientific information and scientific research for purely political reasons.
The frustration Hansen directs at the nation’s so called leaders is legitimate. Among the damning charges he makes: the Clinton Administration terminated a program to test a clean breeder nuclear reactor that could have led to fourth generation nuclear power. This fourth generation nuclear reactor could have powered cities without generating nuclear waste or greenhouse gases or depleting fossil fuel resources. Decades of research paid for with untold billions of tax dollars were quietly shelved away because the conclusions of the research threatened Clinton’s leftwing supporters’ world view and coal industry profits.
Both the Clinton and Bush administrations attempted to restrict the flow of information from scientists to the public and the press. The George W. Bush administration; in a policy eerily reminiscent of the Soviet Union’s propaganda efforts, placed political hacks in charge of public information offices at NASA and other agencies to keep data that disproved its party line from reaching the public. At the same time the budget for scientific research was cut significantly to punish scientists who didn’t follow the party line.
In this book Hansen comes across as a very angry man, a loyal government employee and dedicated scientist who realizes that the institution he has so faithfully served has betrayed him. One is reminded of the writings of Soviet dissidents of the 1970s, people who realized that the system they believed would create utopia was really designed to empower an increasingly arrogant and corrupt elite at the common man’s expense. Hansen has discovered at age 68 that the government he thought existed to serve him really serves those with the deepest pockets and he’s angry about it.
I’m not qualified to say whether or not Storms of My Grandchildren is good science or not but it’s certainly a very effective expose of a failed ideology: American Progressivism. Progressivism is the delusion that government always has the people’s best interests in mind and that big government can solve any problem.
Hansen is certainly a Progressive and a very angry one. He’s frustrated that government isn’t solving the problem of air pollution and angry that politically motivated decisions encourage fossil fuel use. Yet like most angry Progressives he doesn’t see government itself as the problem.
He blames the problems in Washington on “money in politics” and wants money out of politics. How he would achieve these goals, Hansen doesn’t say. He just demands that government do these things for him. In this he sounds like the Party members in the Eastern Bloc who demanded that Communism transform itself into Swedish social democracy.
As with many frustrated liberals Hansen has turned to the political dead end known as civil disobedience. Instead of working constructively’ say with private industry to develop non polluting power sources Hansen now goes around chaining himself to coal trucks.
The anger and frustration in this book surprised me. I wonder if it is a harbinger of growing frustration and discontent from America’s educated classes. When people like James Hansen get radicalized you know that we are on the verge of social political and cultural upheaval.
Labels: An Unlikely Radical