No, climate change will not be good for the world

While there are benefits to higher global temperatures, they are vastly outweighed by the costs to human life.

The cover story in the Spectator this week is from economist and "rational optimist" Matt Ridley, arguing that climate change is good for the world. In it, he grandly declares that "the scientific consensus is that warmer temperatures do more good than harm".

That's simply not true. In the article, Ridley refers to a 2009 paper by economist Richard Tol, which summarises 14 studies (between 1994 and 2006) of the economic effects of future climate trends given a doubling of CO2. If you read the paper yourself, you'll quickly see that Tol's actual conclusion is that things start going downhill at about a +1C rise - which is projected to happen by 2030 regardless of what we do with emissions.

He also says that many of these studies are too optimistic, and that far more research is needed that looks at the indirect economic effects of climate change. Essentially, Ridley's grand declaration should really be "Tol's representation of the scientific consensus of the economic effects of climate change is that by 2006, we didn't know enough". Not so grand, really, is it?

Ridley makes a large number of other misleading claims in his article, too. I only have the space to address the biggest whoppers here, but let's walk through some of his major omissions.

He's right that there are some short-term economic benefits to climate change, but multiple analyses have shown that the long-term costs are far in excess of the costs of preventing it, making his complaints about the price of climate policies irrelevant. If we spend £100 on climate policies and get £3 of benefit (an assertion that I can't find a source for), that's a better situation than spending nothing on climate policies and having to deal with hundreds of billions of pounds of costs over the next century.

He's right that warmer winters will mean fewer deaths, but then lists stats on past heatwaves - temperatures that will be considered around average by the middle of this century - without considering the heatwaves of the future. He also doesn't mention the vast increases in the spread of tropical diseases projected to occur under higher temperatures.

He's right that CO2 is essential for plant growth, but so is a steady water supply. The scientific consensus is floods and droughts will become more common during this century, significantly disrupting that supply. Some areas of the globe will become more productive, mainly those in developed northern countries, but most will not - particularly those with large, poor populations.

He's right that confidence is low among scientists on whether tropical cyclone activity will increase and that death rates due to extreme weather have dropped due to better technology, but we've seen (and expect to continue to see) an increase in the number of extreme rainfall events and the aforementioned heatwaves. The jury's still out on tornadoes, floods and hurricanes, but Ridley presents it as if extreme weather is a problem that technology has solved. That is not the case - just ask those who suffered in Katrina or Sandy, or the millions hit by stronger events in the rest of the world over the past decades.

His predictions of fewer droughts and richer biodiversity don't seem to be grounded in any facts whatsoever, and run contrary to peer-reviewed research on the effects of climate change.

Finally, Ridley completely ignores a number of other effects of climate change that are wholly negative for humanity. Sea level rise, melting glaciers, ocean acidification, extinction of species, and increased incidence of wildfires all go unaddressed.

There are some benefits to be had from climate change, sure. But they're vastly outweighed by the negatives, even on shorter timescales than the 2080 date that Ridley picks. He notes that even his children will be old by then, but what about their children? And their children?

In his article, Ridley presents an extreme photoshopping of the truth - a side of the facts tailored towards those who want an excuse to continue business as usual. Essentially, he's telling the audience of the Spectator what they want to hear - and profiting handsomely from it. His version of events is certainly optimistic, but rational? Unfortunately not.

Duncan Geere is a freelance journalist, specialising in the ways that technology is changing science, our environment and culture. Follow him on Twitter at @duncangeere.

Higher temperatures will lead to more severe droughts. (Photo: Getty)
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Nicola Sturgeon and the SNP’s echoes of New Labour

The fall of Blair should be a set text for anyone wishing to know what happens next to the SNP.

If there was one thing the SNP and New Labour had in common, it was the hope. Both offered themselves as a burning torch of optimism to publics that had become tired of the same old gang running things in the same old way. Both promised a fairer, more equal society and fearless embrace of the modern world with an appealing freshness and energy. The voters bought it: both won big, repeatedly.

The thing is, if you’re elected on a mandate to be different, you’d better be different. In many areas, for a long time, New Labour managed to be just that. The smiling PM with the huge majority pushed through bold policies, some of which even worked. Tony Blair’s strategy was so successful that the Conservatives and the Lib Dems reshaped themselves in his likeness.

But, as some say, it’s the hope that kills you. When the inevitable attritional realities of governing start to weigh; when you make, as you will, bad decisions; when the list of enemies grows long; when you’ve simply had your time; you’ll fall like all the rest. Only, when you’ve soared so close to the sun, you have that much further to plummet.

The fall of Blair should be a set text for anyone wishing to know what happens next to the SNP. The debate on 21 May between the Scottish party leaders was, I think, a foretaste of a sure outcome – a public that until recently was politically and emotionally invested in the Nats is growing restive. In time, this will turn to disenchantment, then anger, then revenge at the ballot box. That is the unbreakable cycle of democratic politics.

Some of us have warned since the start that the SNP had over-promised and could only under-deliver. Its raison d’être is independence; everything else is just another brick to build the path. And so its education reform cannot be either brave or unpopular, even if it needs to be so to work, because the SNP cannot afford to alienate teachers or the teaching unions, or parents.

The same goes for the NHS, and doctors and health unions and patients. All the separatists have done – all they could have done, given their nature – is deploy the rhetoric of the radical while body-swerving hard choices and conflict at any cost. And where they have found themselves taking flak, they’ve pointed south to Westminster: “It’s no’ our fault, it’s theirs.”

Yet the voters show signs of wearying. Middle Scotland is either ignored or maligned by the middle-class socialists who drive the nation’s political debate, but it is where elections are won. The SNP has secured the support of enough of these people to win every recent election in style, but somewhere along the way the party seems to have forgotten this was a mandate not for independence, but for good government. Ten years in to SNP rule, each new audit of public services seems to wail like a warning siren.

So, during the debate, it was Nicola Sturgeon, not the Conservative leader, Ruth Davidson, or Labour’s Kezia Dugdale, who found herself in the audience’s cross-hairs.

There were the teachers, who complained about the damp squib that is the Curriculum for Excellence, the SNP’s flagship education policy; who pointed out that a fifth of primary pupils are leaving without basic literacy and numeracy skills; and who warned that lowering the standard of exams in order to push up the pass rate was not a mark of success.

Then there was the nurse who said she had been forced to use food banks (the existence of which has been used repeatedly by the SNP as a stick with which to beat the Conservatives and Westminster). “I can’t manage on the salary I have [which is set by the Scottish government],” Claire Austin told the panel. “You have no idea how demoralising it is to work in the NHS.” She delivered the killer line of the evening: “Do you think your perceived obsession with independence might actually cost you . . . in this election?”

The list of reasonable criticisms of the SNP’s governance is growing. The ideological obsession with free university tuition for Scottish students is increasingly seen as a sop to the better-off. Sturgeon’s demand for a quick second independence referendum, when a worried Middle Scotland was focused on what Brexit might mean for its future, was tone deaf.

The SNP has another problem (one that New Labour, for all its flaws, didn’t face): its doctrine of infallibility. The Nationalists’ constitution explicitly prohibits SNP elected members from criticising the party, its policies or each other. Although total unity is useful when you’re on the climb, it starts to look bonkers when the cracks are showing.

The word “cult” has long dogged the SNP. The party has tried hard to normalise its electoral appeal while keeping the flame of independence burning, but this has been a difficult balancing act. The pro-independence mob is an ugly thing when unleashed (and it has suited the leadership to open the cage door at times). After the debate, Claire Austin found herself at its mercy as the Nats briefed – wrongly – that she was the wife of a Tory councillor. The SNP branch in Stirling said, Tebbitishly, that if she was having to use food banks, “Maybe she needs to tighten her belt a bit more?”

Joanna Cherry, a QC, MP and the SNP’s home affairs spokesperson, was forced to apologise for spreading “Twitter rumours” about Austin. The ravening horde has largely kept its head down since the 2014 independence referendum, but it hasn’t gone away – it is not enough for the SNP’s critics to be debated: they must be destroyed. This isn’t the behaviour of a normal political party.

I have a feeling that when the SNP does fall, it will fall quite quickly. Its belief in its infallibility, and its inability or unwillingness to do self-deprecation or apology, will increasingly exasperate voters. There is nothing to suggest the current public policy failings will be addressed, and many signs that things will get worse.

How then do you arrest your fall? The SNP offered hope and promised it was different, and the voters believed it. The sense of betrayal could make for a very hard landing indeed. 

Chris Deerin is the New Statesman's contributing editor (Scotland). 

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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