Poor reasoning and intellectual dishonesty - Fake Invisible Catastrophes and Threats of Doom by Patrick Moore

In 'Fake Invisible Catastrophes and Threats of Doom', we are introduced to ten instances of 'climate panic' which Patrick Moore, former founder of Greenpeace, attempts to refute. These examples range from the bleaching of coral reefs in Australia to claims of climate-led polar bear extinction. Inevitably, the contents of this book were controversial, and it is not too surprising that the description of this book is no longer even shown on Goodreads. However, in the spirit of diversifying the perspectives I encounter on climate change, and because my interest was sparked by his Triggernometry interview, I decided to pick it up. What if we really are all overreacting?

Unfortunately, there seems to be some misleading sleight of hand occurring throughout the text in which, in refuting a particular aspect of a claim, he refutes the whole thing altogether. Frequently, Moore cites the conditions of the Earth over the past several billion years as evidence that the predictions or observations of scientists today in response to climate change are overblown. While it may be true, based on his claims, that global warming is no threat to life in general, his claims do not refute the claim that global warming is a threat to life as we know it. For example, in discussing Polar bears he asserts that Polar bears only exist because of climate change; that is, because we are currently in an Ice Age. This has nothing to do with concerns about loss of habitat for Polar bears today - just because they haven’t always existed and had a habitat does not mean the premature loss of their (sub?)species is any less of a concern. He goes on to note that polar bear populations have risen, claiming that this “may be due to reduction in summer sea ice, not because of it” despite also noting widespread ban or restriction of hunting the bears which preceded their rise in population. 

Similar claims are made in regards to corals and coral bleaching due to ocean acidification and temperature rises, as Moore points to the great biodiversity of coral reefs existing mostly in the warmest parts of the oceans. This assertion does not refute the claim that warming of the seas will negatively affect corals. An important thing to understand is that all living things have a set of conditions within which they can survive (a niche). A rise in global sea temperatures, perhaps, will not drive coral reefs extinct, but could dramatically change the distribution of these corals. In already warm areas, a sustained increase above the range of habitability of these plants still results in loss of coral reefs and biodiversity unless there is some effective way to transplant these species into now ideally warmer waters in other parts of the world. Further, the short term recovery of the Great Barrier Reef after mass bleaching in 2016 is consistent with other bleaching events internationally which have resulted from temporary increases in ocean temperatures (Baker, Glynn, & Riegl 2008), and so does not refute concerns about long-term temperature changes. Perhaps his conclusion to this would simply be that it doesn’t matter, that every species has an endpoint, but that is not the point he makes in his book. Similar issues of reason are found throughout the book as Moore falsely believes one claim to negate the other when the two are, in fact, independent.

This issue of false equivalence is often based on or bolstered by a further issue - that the sources referenced do not always support the claim which the author attributes to them. This is outlined clearly by Holman (2021), who upon contacting both Moore and some of the researches referenced found that he had misrepresented the conclusions of their findings in order to support or discount claims on which they did not report. Further, some of Moore’s claims about references are false, as a large part of his argument in Chapter 2 about bleaching in the Great Barrier Reef hinges on the allegation that articles citing a 93% of corals affected by bleaching have no factual basis upon which to make this claim. This is false, as [this] ARC Centre for Excellence of Coral Reef Studies press release from 2016 demonstrates a clear, and not particularly hard to find origin for the 93% statistic. This could, certainly, be a simple mistake. It is, however, a misleading one for readers of the book that do not desire or have the time to fact check some of his claims.

Moore also continually downplays the significance of the social impacts of environmental changes. Sea levels rising? Just move inland. Got money? Build some dykes. Nevermind that ‘just move inland’ is a much taller order on the scale of a nation like Bangladesh than for the average fishing village in Roman Britain. Inevitably, he will dismiss concerns about such events as climate refugee crises as the result of alarmism or false computer modelling. Though once again, dismissing the significance of social concerns presents a misleading sense of environmentalist arguments. For instance, Moore discusses the benefits of waste combustion as an effective way to deal with non-recyclable materials and reduce landfill. Certainly, this is an option to consider, but he misrepresents arguments against such plants as the result of some sort of fear of combustion in general or mild concerns about combustion of recyclable materials. In doing so, he neglects public concerns about the safety of combustion of non-organic materials which often characterise opposition to waste-to-energy power plants (Sun, Ouyang & Meng 2019, pp. 2473-2474).

Despite his clear contrarian nature, Moore bizarrely does not take umbrage with GMOs, instead standing with the scientific community he has criticised throughout the book to illustrate the safety and potential benefits of utilising genetically modified crops. In general, Moore is introducing arguments that I have never heard before, which I appreciate (poor skepticism is better than no skepticism.) As far as I can tell, some of his broader points are worth consideration and further research (both at the level of the personal and the academic), and I genuinely would like to learn more about his theory that increased atmospheric CO2 does not lead to increased temperatures, and could be beneficial to biomass. As such, I do think this book could be worth a read if you approach it, as with anything, a critical eye. Sir David Attenborough is not right about everything, but neither is Patrick Moore, and so it is disheartening to see so many people clearly interested in environmental science take his word for gospel without interrogating either his arguments or attempting to truly understand those of his opposition.

References:
ARC Centre for Excellence of Coral Reef Studies 2016, 'Only 7% of the Great Barrier Reef has avoided coral bleaching', Coralcoe.org.au, viewed 15 July 2021, https://www.coralcoe.org.au/media-rel....

Baker, AC, Glynn, PW, & Riegl, B 2008, 'Climate change and coral reef bleaching: An ecological assessment of long-term impacts, recovery trends and future outlook' Estuarine, Coastal and Shelf Science, vol. 80, no. 4, pp. 435–471, doi: 10.1016/j.ecss.2008.09.003.

Holman, S 2021, 'Fact Checking Patrick Moore, Climate Skeptic', The Tyee, viewed 15 July 2021, https://thetyee.ca/Analysis/2021/06/0....

Sun, C, Ouyang, X, & Meng, X 2019, 'Public acceptance towards waste-to-energy power plants: a new quantified assessment based on “willingness to pay”' Journal of Environmental Planning and Management, vol. 62, no. 14, pp. 2459–2477, doi: 10.1080/09640568.2018.1560930. 

Sand Talk - Can Indigenous Thinking Really Save the World?

In 'Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World', Tyson Yunkaporta attempts a sprawling exploration of indigenous thought patterns across the world as centred by his own experiences as an Aboriginal Australian. Each chapter explores a single theme through the development of a symbol and works to introduce a particular thought pattern or practice in a way that is broadly accessible and thought-provoking. 

Integral to this text is the discussion of the production of knowledge, as he explores different 'ways of knowing' and the 'indigenous knowledge systems' used in indigenous knowledge production. Though I have studied epistemology (theory of knowledge) to some degree before, I think that Yunkaporta’s explanations of these key concepts were both effective and accessible.These indigenous processes are frequently contrasted with what he perceives to be the Western standard of knowledge production on a given point. In this juxtaposition, however, Yunkaporta repeatedly makes claims both about the nature of Western culture and history that just don’t add up while frequently overgeneralising the nature of Western knowledge production. He readily admits he’s no expert in either Indigenous cultures or the Western cultures he often critiques, so approach any broad claims about either with some respect and skepticism. Though I do question why he bothered to make sweeping generalisations knowing that this was the case. Perhaps, this was just to provide a clear contrast to what he perceives his own culture does instead, but I felt it discredited his through-line argument against simplistic thinking in the face of complex challenges. 

Further, certain key issues as far as indigenous cultures were glossed over or dismissed without adequate discussion despite being at times relevant to the discussion. On the case of domestic abuse and paedophilia in Australian indigenous communities, Yunkaporta fails to truly address the issues of today (see Indigenous Child Safety) and instead focuses on potential bad reporting of observers during first contact. He further goes on to claim that paedophilia isn’t an issue because traditionally adolescence was not as extended as it now is and that it wasn’t just old men preying on young girls, it was old women praying on young boys too (see the chapter 'Duck Hunting is Everybody's Business'):

Selective recording of observations by anthropologists and early settlers popularised the    idea that old men used their power and influence to marry underage girls and monopolise the young women of the group. This ignored the fact that old women did the same with young men - a mechanism that makes sense in terms of maintaining stable populations with low birth rates. It also served to curtail the excesses of youth and to mentor young people in how to navigate the complexity of sexual relationships. You may think of this as paedophilia, but bear in mind that this was an era when adolescence lasted months rather than years - all over the world, children became young adults and married sooner in those days. 

Some further examples of bizarre claims made throughout include the assertion that vitamin D deficiency due to anti-skin cancer campaigns has killed more people than the cancer would have, another being that neural changes caused by literacy are abhorrent. Unsurprisingly then, this book is largely devoid of references to back up any such claims, but maybe I’m just missing the point.

As others have stated, this book has little to do with indigenous thinking changing the world. Sure, there are moments in which an approach or idea could be useful when applied at scale, but the title overpromises on what are effectively broad ways of understanding the world. Further, indigenous thinking and culture is by its nature relegated to only small groups of people, and so I see no real place for the non-indigenous majority to adopt any of what is described in the book - you can’t just become indigenous. This exclusivity of indigenous knowledge is hesitantly acknowledged by Yunkaporta, as he notes the secrecy of Aboriginal Australian cultures. I doubt that this overpromising title is the fault of Yunkaporta, however, and was likely some sort of marketing push to sell more copies of an otherwise challenging and pertinent collection of essays.

This book will likely challenge things you take advantage of in your worldview, things you didn’t even consider to be part of any worldview at all. Yunkaporta does this in a way that is fascinating and accessible through a melding of art, memoir and analysis (as he calls it: “yarning”.) For this reason alone, this book is a worthy read for anyone vaguely interested in philosophy or world history. Take it slowly, and you’ll get far more out of mulling these ideas over than trying to ram them into your likely very differently wired skull. 

References:

Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2014, Indigenous child safety, AIHW, Canberra.

Yunkaporta, T. (2020). Sand Talk : How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World. Harpercollins Publishers.

Who Owns England? by Guy Shrubsole

 

Who Owns England? Is a fascinating exploration of land ownership in England, and occasionally Wales. You’d think the question of who owns what wouldn’t be all that difficult to answer, but no, England’s history of land ownership and land reform is likely one of the most convoluted in the world. Land ownership continues to be shrouded in secrecy, and despite its formation in 1861, HM’s Land Registry remains incomplete. This book recounts Shrubsole’s attempts to map the landowners of England as well as the history of land itself in England, which remains tied to the aristocracy and archaic traditions. 

Throughout his investigation, Shrubsole emphasises environmental protection, housing affordability and tax evasion as issues of key importance, and unsurprisingly is no fan of Margaret Thatcher. Each chapter explores a different type of land ownership such that Crown Land, farming, corporate ownership and the average homeowner are given consideration. While I had no real ideas of land reform before going in, I came out convinced that changes can and need to be made. The best part of this book is that provides viable solutions and policy changes, and it’s made me finally register for postal vote to do what I can from Australia.

Bottom line: this is a passionate and informative look into land ownership in England, and you’ll come out realising there’s far more that should and can be done for housing affordability and the environment. I gave this 5/5 stars.

I would like to thank Guy Shrubsole and NetGalley for giving me the opportunity to review this book. You can find out more from Shrubsole's website and buy the book on Amazon, Waterstones, Kobo, Bookdepository and hopefully your local bookshop!

The Constant Rabbit by Jasper Fforde

The quasi-biblical mess that is 2020 has been a year of literary discovery for me. Just as you can find pretty much anything on Reddit, I’ve also realised you can find pretty much anything in books. ‘The Constant Rabbit’ by Jasper Fforde is just one of several forays into anthropomorphic fiction, a subgenre I first learned to love through Jamie Brindle’s ‘Chaos Drive’.  While The Constant Rabbit does not feature the anthropomorphised frogs of Brindle’s creation, it does feature rabbits (and foxes and weasels too.) 

The Constant Rabbit follows Peter Knox, a mildly boring middle-aged man working for a notoriously anti-Rabbit agency in an England with over 1 million human-like rabbits. Following an ‘Event’ 55 years prior these rabbits had started to walk, talk and function in society to much leporiphobic (rabbit-phobic) opposition. Fforde’s exploration of the political implications of this absurdist entry into British society provided grounds for a scathing satire of anti-immigrant and pro-Brexit rhetoric - and human nature in general. 

Fforde’s absolute success throughout this novel was in making the idea of humanised rabbits seemingly probable. Not only did he think through the impact this would have on human culture but also developed a clear sense of rabbit culture and the ways in which the two would interact. His success in establishing the absurdist world of our protagonist made for both a humorous and thought-provoking read. 

Doing what weird fiction does best, Fforde’s political commentary is able to make use of this absurdism by applying comedy and approachability to social critique. Similarly to the use of animals in Art Spiegelman’s Maus, different animals are used to represent different groups of people. A feature of anthropomorphic fiction in general, this allows the reader to separate from their own context whilst simultaneously comparing it to that of the book. 

However, while I thoroughly enjoyed the world-building and character-arcs, The Constant Rabbit is fairly light on plot. Though I enjoyed Peter’s often clueless perspective, the fact he didn’t know what was happening most of the time meant that there was also not a lot beyond his monotonous life to drive the book forward. His discovery of rabbit-culture and examination of his own role in their plight was interesting, but I also felt like nothing actually happened for the first 250 pages. 

The use of inter-species romance was also interesting, but also kind of weird. The implications of what is effectively consensual beastiality were concluded to be ‘love is love’. However, the end of the book called this into question for me as the species barrier is still very much a thing. I also found Peter to be bizarrely apathetic about certain events which I would have expected a far greater reaction to. 

I decided to give this a 3 star rating all up, but would definitely recommend it to those looking for something a little weird and serious. I’ve also heard Fforde’s other work is similarly whimsical and look forward to checking it out.

I would like to thank NetGalley, Hodder and Staughton and Jasper Fforde for giving me an opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review. You can get a copy of The Constant Rabbit from Kobo, Bookdepository, Amazon and most other major booksellers. 

Ivy Feckett is Looking for Love: A Birmingham Romance Review

‘Ivy Feckett is Looking for Love’ is Jay Spencer Green’s second novel, and the second that I’ve read. His first novel, ‘Breakfast at Cannibal Joe’s’, is a dystopian comedy equally entertaining and thought-provoking.  Consequently, I went into this expecting to simultaneously laugh and frown. I wasn’t disappointed. Certainly a tonal shift from Breakfast at Cannibal Joe’s, Ivy Feckett swaps dystopian for romance as we see Ivy navigate the bizarre world of academic research and Birmingham-borne cults. She also starts to fall for her boss, Ned Hartfield. 

In what I’ve discovered to be Green’s signature style, this Birmingham romance is guaranteed to elicit laughs and smiles abound. One of my favourite aspects was the quasi-biblical quotes which begin each chapter, especially once their relevance became apparent. I am highly tempted to try and harass Green into writing a full version of this bible, but that would probably be rude. 

The setting of Birmingham is clearly one which Green is highly familiar with, as we’re taken on both a tour of its geographic class divides and the bustling CBD. If the borders ever open back up I’d love to spend a day in Birmingham retracing Ivy and Sam’s steps; maybe even give geocaching a shot. Alas, Ivy Feckett will have to suffice for now. 

Ivy as a character perfectly encapsulates the female introvert. She’s smart; she knows (or thinks she knows) when she’s wanted. I felt personally attacked by some of the lines in this book, especially as she describes her reasoning for not going out or generally doing anything outside her routine. The arrival of Ned sees a change in Ivy. She starts to tackle a subject she’s long relegated to her own imagination - sex. I found her obsession with him fairly stupid but entirely realistic. And then there’s her best friend Sam. 

Sam, like Ivy, is a nerd. He loves geocaching and boardgames. Winning either in Ivy’d presence is his way of showcasing masculinity. It’s adorable. Sam accompanies Ivy throughout the book, as her colleague and bestie, he’s also witness to her burgeoning romance with Ned. Ned is manipulative and repulsive, and is part of a much larger plot Ivy doesn’t realise she’s involved in too. Don’t go into this expecting a plain old romance, the surprising mystery of this plot really shows up around half-way through. I won’t say any more on this because I think it’s more fun to discover, but I will say that it’s both an entertaining and philosophical inclusion. 

‘Ivy Feckett is Looking for Love’ is hilarious and heartwarming, and I’d highly recommend picking it up. I saw another reviewer saying it’s a romance for people who don’t like reading romances, which I’d say is pretty accurate because of how much relatability, humour and depth it brings to the table. Jay Spencer Green has fast become one of my favourite discoveries of the year and I’ll soon be looking to his third novel, Fowl Play. I gave this a deserving 5/5 stars. 

                                                        

You can purchase this book at Amazon, Kobo, and BookDepository.

Note: I would like to thank Jay Spencer Green for reaching out to me and giving me a copy of this book to review - it means the world as a reviewer.

Breakfast at Cannibal Joe's and the unexpected joy of dystopian comedy

This is one of those books that is both incredibly hard to describe and review, which if I'm perfectly honest has led to me procrastinating doing so. 'Breakfast at Cannibal Joe's' is described as a dystopian comedy, and I'd say that is a perfectly accurate description of this insane satire of Western capitalism and the Irish people. I found myself frequently and religioulsy highlighting both hilarious and hard hitting passages for later reference. Following Joe, the manager of a small firm producing article abstracts which doubles as a CIA intelligence gathering agency, we see look into the lives of the average Dubliner, foreign spies and the criminal underground. What Jay Spencer Green did so excellently in this novel was combining Joe's apathy and machismo with objectively horrible things to make both a poignant and amusing point.


While ~dystopian~, the setting of late-capitalist Dublin is so close to being within our own reality that at times it feels like a surreal look into the world in 20 years time. This made me incredibly uncomfortable but also left me laughing like an idiot while I read at the kitchen table, my family staring at me undeniably concerned. Coming off the heels of a research essay into the effect of deindustrialisation in Northern England, Green's discussion of deindustrialisation and unionism appeared particularly pertinent. While written in 2015, I found his commentary on globalisation in general especially interesting during a time when we are each seeing the consequences of our globalised division of labour and manufacturing.

This novel was fairly loose on plot, at least until you got around 60% of the way through, at which point it became an addictive mystery of sorts. At around 25% I had pretty much had enough, struggling to see the point. However, I am incredibly glad that I was able to push through as the satirical nature of the novel became more and more apparent. I was honestly quite taken aback by the brazen objectivisation and sexist remarks Joe made at times, but this appears to have been Green's intention, reflecting the coarse locker-room talk we so often hear excused. Furthermore, Joe's own self-doubt became apparent as we learned more of his past and tangled present which deepened my understanding of the way he chose to approach the world. Certainly, Joe was not always a likeable character and not necessarily 'good' either, but his humanity and complexity made him an excellent instrument through which we came to know his world.

As readers we start this book with 'The End'. It was so satisfying to finish the last written chapter and go back to the start, finally understanding everything that first chapter meant. I highly recommend this book for lovers of dystopian who ere on the side of weird, but I will say that it's not for everyone. I'll definitely be looking into Green's other novels and gave this 4/5 stars.

I would like to thank Jay Spencer Green, BooksGoSocial and NetGalley for giving me a copy of this book in exchange for review. You can pick up your own copy on Amazon, Kobo, BookDepository or Barnes and Noble.

WARNING: I don't normally do this but if books had age ratings this would be MA15+ or R-rated. Don't read this if you're not comfortable with strong language and imagery (both violent and sexual.)

Weird Dream Society - An anthology for the playful, dark and thoughtful

The Weird Dream Society anthology holds a host of wonderfully weird and weirdly wonderful stories. The contributing authors themselves originate from across the English speaking world, with varying notoriety and existing bodies of work. The profits from this collection are to go to RAICES, a Texas-based non-profit which provides legal and educational services to migrants which is certainly a great cause to support.

I absolutely loved the diversity of setting, from clear references to our current pandemic predicament to entirely new fantasy words somehow brought to life in just a few pages. So many of these stories left me wanting to read more in their worlds, from the scarred faces of 'Skin Like Carapace' to the floating ice whales of 'Glasswort, Ice'. I know that weird may at times be a rather intimidating moniker, but that each of the contributing authors was able to fully embrace it meant that the extraordinary became ordinary and the worlds and happenings far more unique and captivating. The short story format enabled even small ideas to be explored for their practicalities and implications. One example of this is 'The Hoof Situation', which explores how being faced with the realities of aging can affect our perception of youth through a society where old women grow hooves in place of feet.

Moreso than the worlds, many of these stories left me sitting, quiet and pensive, contemplating what on Earth had just happened (in a good way.) This is certainly not an anthology to be read in one sitting, as you will almost certainly need time to consider and imagine. The characters were overwhelmingly well developed and despite the format also often grew with the progression of the story. One thing that did annoy me was that a couple of the stories used 'they' as a singular pronoun, which for me at times made it harder to understand and didn't always feel necessary. Although this might just be a me thing. I ended up vehemently googling several of the authors following these reflection comas and will almost certainly be exploring more from A.C. Wise, Steve Toase, Emily Cantaneo, and Chip Houser; the authors of 'Crossing', 'Skin Like Carapace', 'Glasswort, Ice' and 'Meat for Skritches' respectively.

I have to give this a 5/5 stars, and though I read this as an eBook I am certainly looking to buy it in paperback when I can. You can pick it up on Amazon, Kobo, Weightless Books and for the Americans out there: B&N Nook, Barnes and Noble (Paperback), and Indiebound.org.

I would like to thank the authors of Weird Dream Society, Julie C. Day who was also the editor of the anthology, Reckoning Press and netGalley for giving me the opportunity to read this book in exchange for an honest review.