Watching Professor Andre Sella’s Faraday Prize lecture on YouTube
yesterday I swear I heard him make a passing reference to James Delingpole, whose climate
scepticism is freely aired whenever given the opportunity. And if such an
opportunity fails to materialise, he doesn’t take that as any impediment. I
believe he has a similar denialist stance on the Covid epidemic, but I became
disappointed by him before all this.
It must be quite the annoyance, as a scientist, an expert
in your field, to have your life’s work dismissed simply because your
conclusions are deemed inconvenient by a mere spectator. I imagine eminent
epidemiologists are scratching their heads in dismay as the actor, Laurence Fox,
or the fake ‘scientist’ Gillian shit-stirrer McKeith tell whomever will listen,
that you are a liar. Their belief trumps, to coin a phrase, your knowledge.
Twas ever thus, but what fascinates me is the journey on
which these naysayers embark. We’ve all encountered those who, unable to
succinctly show their own calculations, demand that we ‘do some research’ to discover
their truth. As a starting point they often post a link to some long-discredited
study, or opinion pieces such as young Master Delingpole produce, as a prelude
to blocking and thus, in their imagination, winning the argument.
But at what point does a poorly informed scepticism
begin to take a deeper hold? How does a furtive fumble through the seedier neighbourhoods
of the online world become a mission? And where does the madness really begin? A
common theme I’ve noticed is that many of the biggest anti-truth zealots start
out with an easy, laissez faire scepticism, but end up as fanatic
devotees of cult-like beliefs. This is religious zealot grade madness at work.
Much is made these days about mental health (when all many
people really need is an occasional slap to bring them to their senses) but it
is often predicated on the false premise that it is never your own fault. Yes,
bad things happen to good people, but bad things happen to all people.
And very often the very worst of bad things happen to the very worst of people;
but this doesn’t make for an easy aphorism. (Although, ‘live by the sword, die
by the sword’ seems rather apt.) So, in my book, the mental health excuse falls
rather flat; you are the architect of your own legacy.
We live in a world where eminence can quickly count for
little. A great authority loses all credibility when their personal life is held
to be less than acceptable. (And who defines acceptability?) Who cares what the
doctor says, when a footballer says different? And the great Andrew Neil must rue
the day he helped found GB News, as a result of which he now appears to be on bended
knee to the über-woke Channel 4.
Forget objective proof, clinical trials, peer reviews and
all that tiresome factual stuff. Nowadays we are in thrall to influencers and the
evidence means nothing. I suspect we were always more the biddable acolyte than
the sceptical, studious pupil. Instead of a long, hard slog to the top of your
trade, all you need now is a leg up the greasy pole, to perch precariously on
the top for a few minutes. Make your way to that nebulous podium and the idiots
will tag along in their droves until the next dodgy fad takes their fancy. So,
if you do plan to hop aboard the next coming theology, do choose your gods
wisely.
