By James Delingpole
Gosh I’m enjoying this lovely sunny weather we’ve been having. Aren’t you?
It takes me right back to the last time I can remember England experiencing such a long period of glorious warmth and sunshine: the near-legendary “Summer of ’76”.
Donna Summer and Abba and Chicago were in the charts. Raleigh Choppers and Space Hoppers were all the rage (obviously I had both). The Omen and Taxi Driver were on at the pictures, though I had to hear about them second-hand via my Swedish or German au pair, probably, because they were rated X and I was only 11…
But the main reason that summer sticks out in the memory for all those of us who were there is that it was so very unusual. It was anomalous, to use the technical term.
Summer in England — in Wales and Scotland even more so — is traditionally a very patchy, unpredictable affair. You never know from one day to the next whether it’s going to be croquet and Pimms on a baked lawn or whether the skies are going to open and it’s going to be a washout. That’s how marquee companies make their fortune. That’s why we all book our expensive holidays to the Med because it’s our one guarantee of getting at least a couple of weeks’ vitamin D and suntan.
Everyone with half a brain knows this.
It’s what Shakespeare was on about when he wrote that “Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”
It’s so obvious, so true, so extensively and thoroughly memorialised in our literature and meteorological records and folk memory, that you’d need to be an absolute moron not to understand this entry-level point: English summers are basically crap; the weather we’re experiencing right now is the exception, not the rule; it’s a joyous relief from years and years and bloody years of otherwise relentless disappointment.
So how thick and warped and demented and addled by stupid, petulant, twisted, anti-human, anti-capitalist, anti-scientific, anti-empirical green groupthink would you have to be to find anything remotely troublesome about this welcome run of delicious balmy heat?
Allow me to show you:
— Tom Nelson (@tan123) July 26, 2018
Jeremy Leggett is one of those prominent establishment climate activists — Greenpeace via Oxford — who has made a tidy living from the renewables scam. He has blocked me on Twitter, which is heartbreaking.
Life comes at you fast. pic.twitter.com/v318eYpNbo
— Adam Bienkov (@AdamBienkov) July 25, 2018
I’m afraid I don’t know who Adam Bienkov is but the fact that over 6,500 Twitter users found his argument-through-non-sequitur sufficiently persuasive to retweet speaks volumes about the irredeemable fatuousness of the Millennial generation.
— Adam Bienkov (@AdamBienkov) July 26, 2018
I do know who Myles Allen is. Invoking him as an authority on climate change is a bit like invoking Peter Strzok or Maxine Waters or Antifa Berkeley as your expert witness on Donald Trump. He’s an activist with a very large axe to grind.
Then there’s the egregious Peter Stott of the UK Met Office Hadley Centre:
If you think of climate change as altering the odds of an event – with throwing a six being equivalent in the analogy to having a heatwave – it's as though this year many places around the world have thrown a six unlike in 1976 when many places were colder than average.
— Peter Stott (@StottPeter) July 23, 2018
Stott is a virtual nobody — an obscure professor of a questionable field (“Professor of Detection and Attribution of Climate Change at University of Exeter”) with fewer than 4,000 Twitter followers. But he is able to punch far above his weight thanks to the desperation among media organisations, the BBC especially, for tame experts willing to help them ramp up their climate scare narrative.
Here is Stott being thoroughly taken apart by someone who really does know his stuff, Paul Homewood.
Naturally, of course, Stott focuses on the current UK heatwave, noting that it is similar to 1976.
While we await the eventual outcome, what is absolutely clear so far is that daily temperatures were far higher in 1976. This is really a serious omission from a supposedly impartial scientist.
So far this summer, the highest CET daily max temperature has been 28.6C, with just three days over 28C.
In contrast, in 1976 temperatures reached 33.2C, the all-time record, and there were 18 days over 28C in June and July alone.
While it was consistently hot in June this year, the month only ranked 18th warmest on CET, with the warmest June as long ago as 1846.
There is little evidence therefore of anything unprecedented about the weather we have had so far this summer.
There’s more where this came from. As Homewood shows, Stott is wrong on U.S. temperatures too. And the Arctic.
Incidentally, this thing we’re experiencing now feels very much like the “Barbecue Summer” that the Met Office predicted in 2009 — the one that turned out to be a washout because it’s super-duper computer models were actually pretty rubbish.
Like NASA and NOAA, the UK Met Office parted company with honest science quite some time ago, in favour of climate activism.
The Met Office gets very upset when you point this out, as I did here at some length. If its reputation really matters that much to it, perhaps it should consider sticking to its day job — weather forecasting — and leave the climate activism to paid stooges like that bald palaeopiezometrist chap that the Grantham Institute employs to harass sceptical journalists.
Back to my original point: yes this summer has been delightfully dry and hot; yes the summer of ’76 was also delightfully dry and hot.
But what about all the summers in between those 42 years. What about them eh?
To put it another way, if one hot summer is damning proof of global warming, then what conclusion are we to draw from the 40 odd summers which were just kind of meh? Are we just supposed to ignore them because they don’t suit the alarmist narrative?
Well presumably that’s what they’d like us to do, all those Stotts and Harrabins and Bienkovs and Allens and Leggetts — saddoes so bound up and defined by their doomsday Weltanschauung that their only use for a balmy summer is as alarmist tragedy porn.
But I really don’t think we should let them get away with it. By all means let them eat themselves up with their weird, misanthropic obsession, but don’t ever let us allow their problem to become our problem.
It did rather sadden me when an old friend and longtime fellow climate sceptic emailed me the other day to ask: “Do you think maybe they’re right about global warming after all?”
No, I don’t think they’re right.
Indeed, it’s not even that just that I don’t think that they are right. I know they are not right.
Before this long hot summer began, there was no credible real-world evidence that man-made carbon dioxide is causing the planet to warm in a dangerous and/or unprecedented way.
And the fact that we’ve had a nice spell of lovely weather lately hasn’t changed that fact one jot.
Sorry green nutters, but you’re on the own. I hope you go on having a horrible summer because it’s what you deserve. Me, I’m off for a swim…
If the warm weather we are having today is caused by (Man Made) Global Warming, what caused the heat waves in the past, for example the one in 1911?
New England’s Heat Wave Of 1911
By Paul Homewood
We often get carried away by climate statistics, but here’s the human story behind the deadly 1911 heat wave in New England:
The July 1911 heat wave killed thousands of New Englanders and sent many over the brink of madness.
During 11 hellish days, horses dropped in the street. Babies didn’t wake up from their naps. Boats in Providence Harbor oozed pitch and began to take on water. Tar in the streets bubbled like hot syrup. Trees shed their leaves, grass turned to dust and cows’ milk started to dry up.
In every major northeastern city, the sweltering heat drove people to suicide.
On July 4, temperatures hit 103 in Portland, 104 in Boston (a record that still stands), 105 in Vernon, Vt., and 106 in Nashua, N.H., and Bangor, Maine. At least 200 died from drowning, trying to cool off in rivers, lakes, ponds and ocean – anything wet. Still more died from heat stroke. The 1911 heat wave was possibly the worst weather disaster in New England’s history, with estimates of the death toll as high as 2,000.
Trying to cool off in Hartford during the 1911 heat wave. Photo courtesy Hartford Courant.
The 1911 Heat Wave
June weather had been normal, but in July hot, dry air from the southern plains flowed into Canada and then swept south and toward the coast. The hot wind suppressed cool ocean breezes, and the temperature rose 11 degrees in a half hour in Providence.
In Hartford, crowds gathered around the Thermograph near City Hall to watch as it fluctuated between 110 and 112 degrees in the shade. At Colwell’s store in Cumberland, R.I., the thermometer hit 130. A farmer in Woodbury left his field when the temperature reached 140 degrees in the sun.
Ice and electric fans were luxuries, air conditioning unknown. Pedestrians fainted from the stifling heat. At night, the streets were filled with exhausted mothers walking up and down, trying to comfort their crying babies. They feared leaving them in their beds, lest they fail to wake up. One police officer described the night during the 1911 heat wave as a ‘giant wail.’
The City of Hartford flushed fire hydrants and ferries and trolleys allowed people to ride free. Some rode all day. Others went round and round on carousel horses for the slight breeze. The Heublein family donated water barrels to the parks, and the Trout Brook Ice Co. refilled them.
Throughout the region, factories closed and mail delivery was suspended.
Parks and beaches were opened for sleeping. In tenement slums, the sidewalks were lined with blankets and mattresses. Sleeping outside had its dangers, as thieves commonly stole hats, coats and wallets.
Sleeping in the park in New York during the 1911 heat wave. Photo courtesy Library of Congress.
5,000 Sleep on Boston Common
Some people slept on roofs. John Merlo, a 28-year-old Italian immigrant, rolled over in his sleep on the tin roof of his boardinghouse in Hartford’s slum. He crashed through a 10-inch guard and fell to his death on the concrete below.
It became a daily ritual to read the morning newspaper to see how many died. Workers died digging holes. Women fell over picking blueberries. A teamster fainted and fell off his wagon, only to be trampled to death by the horses pulling it. A woman sitting up in bed talking suddenly keeled over, dead.
A week after it started, the 1911 heat wave was broken by a line of thunderstorms. The next day the temperature shot up to 95 degrees. People started to go mad. In Hartford, a crazed man tried to climb a utility pole. Two police officers and three bystanders subdued him and wrestled him into a straitjacket. In Springfield, a man suddenly threw off his coat and ran through a pharmacy. In New York, a crazed drunk ran after a police officer with a meat cleaver.
The New London Day reported Jacob Seegar, an aged resident of Roxbury, Mass., was so crazed by the extreme heat he killed himself with a revolver.
Boys licking ice in New York City. Photo courtesy Library of Congress.
The 1911 heat wave bent rail lines, causing derailments. But it was probably excessive speed that caused the wreck of the Federal Express train carrying passengers from Washington to Boston.
At 3:30 a.m. on July 11, the train derailed as it approached the station in Bridgeport, Conn.
The engine and six cars fell 20 feet to the street below, killing 14 and injuring 47.
The St. Louis Cardinals were sleeping in a Pullman car at the back of the train that remained on the tracks. They were on their way to Boston to play the Braves. Hall of Fame catcher-manager Roger Bresnahan directed the team’s rescue efforts, credited with saving many lives before ambulances reached the wreck.
Bangor, Maine, had already suffered from one inferno two months earlier: the worst fire in its history. The city suffered from temperatures above 100 degrees.
A 69-year-old African-American woman, Mrs. Myra Hudlin, had been burned out in the fire and lived in a room with a bed, six chairs and a stove. She collapsed in the heat after washing clothes all one morning and died the next day.
The New York Tribune’s estimates of the death toll from the heat, undoubtedly understated.
Bangorians seeking relief slept on porches and roofs. Most men walked around town without wearing a coat. Moviegoers showed up at the un-air-conditioned theaters at night in various states of undress.
On July 6, the heat was interrupted by a terrific thunderstorm that killed carpenter Harry Mower by toppling a barn on top of him. The storm damaged property throughout the city, felling the charred walls of buildings that still stood after the fire.
From early morning to late at night, people hoping to catch a breeze jammed into the open cars of the Bangor Railway and Electric Company’s open trolley cars. Six thousand people besieged Riverside Park at the end of the trolley line in Hampden so they could cool off in the Penobscot River.
Even swimmers couldn’t escape the heat. David Kerr, a waiter on the steamer Belfast, was overcome by heat while swimming near the ferry terminal. He appeared too dazed to grab on to a line thrown to him.
After 11 days of searing heat, another severe thunderstorm brought the temperature down to bearable levels — and killed five more people. But the 1911 heat wave was finally over.
The Year the Earth Went Wild – Natural Disasters
From afar the Earth seems calm, a blue sphere turning peacefully in space, but travel closer and you find a turbulent and terrifying place. An atmosphere where hurricanes and tornados are spawned, and below that a realm of volcanos and earthquakes.
Starting just before New Year’s Day, on Boxing Day 2004, the year 2005 was the most disastrous on record, with hundreds of billions of pounds of losses and more than half a million deaths.