We just got back from seeing Al Gore's new film An Inconvenient Truth. Yes, we loved it. And yes, Gore is more appealing as a leader when he doesn't have a gaggle of flacks telling him what to say and do--and when he doesn't have to suffer the indignities of a bored press corps who felt free to malign him because he didn't pamper them on the campaign bus. Gore's message about Global Warming is urgent and necessary; fortunately, his message is also fact-filled and easy to comprehend.
We had been anxiously anticipating this film for a while, but when we read Gregg Easterbrook's strange review of the film in Slate last week, we couldn't wait to respond. Of course, the review sounded craptastic when we first read it, but after seeing the film it makes even less sense. That is, until we did a little research on just who the fuck Gregg Easterbrook is, and more importantly, who he isn't.
The title of his article is Ask Mr. Science, The Moral Flaws of An Inconvenient Truth. We read the Mr. Science part as a snide reference to Al Gore's professorial tone in his presentation. We certainly wouldn't confuse Gregg Easterbrook for a scientist. Funny, because Easterbrook seems to confuse himself for a scientist. In fact, Easterbrook has landed himself a cushy gig at the Brookings Institute as an "expert" on Global Warming and Environmental Issues. All this without an advanced degree in anything beyond journalism--you know, the art of writing much while saying little. But then again, they also list him as an "expert" at professional sports, without ever having been an athlete, or a coach, or much more than a fan with a journalism degree. Don't get us started about his "expertise" in Christianity... (more on that later). He seems to fit the very definition of a modern pundit: that knowing little about anything makes you a highly paid expert in everything.
Easterbrook has been an editor of The New Republic, which isn't quite as shitty as it was under Andrew Sullivan (they should really start using that phrase in their marketing to boost circulation). Although Easterbrook tells others, and possibly himself, that he's a liberal, he seems to be of the cross-dressing mercenary variety that land top jobs at The New Republic on the sheer moral courage of their confusion. And about that confusion....
We are relieved that, as the resident non-scientific expert on Global Warming at the Brookings Institute, Easterbrook has, after much resistance, come to the realization that Global Warming is real. For years Easterbrook has made a comfortable living arguing against the existence of Global Warming from his vast experience as a non-scientific expert on matters of science. At least when he was arguing in favor of Creationism it was ostensibly as an expert in Christianity rather than as a non-scientist science expert.* Easterbrook's status as an anti-environmental shill--also known as an "ecorealist"--culminated in his book A Moment on the Earth: The Coming Age of Environmental Optimism. Apparently, the trick to earning money as an ecorealist is to play the environmentalist who attacks environmentalists for being, well, environmentalists. His book was so fraught with error that it required at least two serious scientific rebuttals from the Environmental Defense Fund.
We think this passage sums up the Easterbrook science party perfectly: (from Media Matters)
(A) review of Moment of Earth in the August 1995 issue of Natural
History, Pennsylvania
State University
professor Jack C. Schultz wrote that the book "contains some of the most
egregious cases of misunderstood, misstated, misinterpreted, and plainly
incorrect 'science' writing I've ever encountered."
In his review of Al Gore's presentation, Easterbrook pulls out all the stops to be Stosselian (a not very bright or very honest contrarian-for-pay). Media Matters has probably the best critique of Easterbrook's Mr. Science hit piece. But a couple of things really stood out to us.
First, the issue which Easterbrook calls "a wacky side-trip into a conspiracy theory". The film points out that Phillip Cooney, who was a lobbyist for the American Petroleum Institute, was appointed by Bush to be Chief of Staff for the Council on Environmental Quality. In his role, Cooney altered material in a report on Global Warming which would have demanded action on behalf of a responsible government. Cooney was a non-scientist (like Greggo) who clearly tried to hamstring any semblance of responsible environmental policy. Once his actions were exposed, he resigned his post and took a job with Exxon the next day. The only thing wacky about this story is anyone who doesn't find such action, or the placing of such individuals into positions of power, as anything short of a betrayal of the American people. Easterbrook is right to find common cause with Cooney. Perhaps some day he can directly partake of that sweet sweet oil money.
Secondly, Easterbrook's grasp of filmmaking is about as enlightening as his grasp of science:
When Gore isn't being applauded, Guggenheim (the director) presents him as alone and
melancholy: walking alone, musing alone, standing alone in a darkened
barn. The scenes are meant to convey our inability to imagine the
burden the former vice president bears.
No, you fucking Philistine! The context of Gore being applauded--which accounts for so much of the film that one could miss it in a blink--is within the course of his demonstration; there are no special cut-aways for effect. There are multiple shots of Gore, which were clearly used as a bridge to stretch the film to a theatrical time length. The solo shots of Gore tell us much about him: that he is technologically savvy, immersed in all the high-tech gadgetry he can get his hands on, and that he is contemplative--given our current President who doesn't seem to have a coherent thought in his head, the contrast is painful. Only an ass would purse his lips and sarcastically bemoan: poor Al!
Easterbrook's original claim to fame was in decrying the space shuttle program
before it was launched. When the Challenger exploded six years later,
some thought Easterbrook prophetic. He wasn't. In fact, his powers of
prophecy of late border on the hillarious. Consider his contention in
2004 that George Bush would lead the charge in reversing Global Warming--which
apparently was about the time that Easterbrook started to think that
Global Warming might be a legitimate problem after all.
Less hilarious was Easterbrook's anti-Semitic rant in a condemnation of Quentin Tarrantino's Kill Bill (ever the film critic). It was all in the calling of a good Christian who needed to know why the Jewishness of Michael Eisner dictated that he must bankroll violent unchristian films. Consequently, the Disney company decided to fire Easterbrook from his gig writing Tuesday Morning Quarterback for ESPN.com, where his non-athletic football expertise was in much demand. This extra time freed Easterbrook to ruminate on beliefnet (which is where you really want to quarantine your garden variety anti-Semites). Check this mind-numbingly stupid gem in which Easterbrook suggests that the declining rates of teenage pregnancy throughout the nineties was the triumph of moral values peddled by fundamentalist Christians. Never mind that those Christian abstinence programs have become breeding grounds for porn stars, Easterbrook was on the mend and after two years will resume his role writing about football from a non-scientific perspective.
Easterbrook isn't the worst that the parrotocracy has to offer. He's just a gun for hire--who doesn't actually own a gun, but has read extensively about gunowners and can cross reference their testimonials....
*Our incessant reminder of Easterbrook's lack of scientific credentials rests almost solely in sympathy with our dear sister who toiled for many many years acquiring a doctorate in the very studies for which Easterbrook claims expertise. The pay for serious scientific study of environmental matters is grossly overshadowed by the salaries and honoraria commanded by dilettantes who dance on a string.