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I know all about the guy, this is from one of my lectures on another forum:
Let's talk about Richard Lindzen, because his name comes up in climate discussions the way a dentist's name comes up when someone doesn't want to go: as an authority invoked to avoid an uncomfortable but necessary reckoning.
Lindzen is not a crank. That's the first thing you need to understand—and the first thing his most enthusiastic fans exploit. He is a retired Alfred P. Sloan Professor of Meteorology at MIT. He has done genuinely important work in atmospheric dynamics, including foundational research on the quasi-biennial oscillation, which is a real thing involving stratospheric wind patterns, not a band name. He is credentialed. He is intelligent. He publishes in peer-reviewed journals.
And his core scientific claims about climate change have, one after another, failed to survive independent scrutiny.
That distinction matters. Being credentialed is not the same as being right. And in Lindzen's case, the gap between those two things is the Grand Canyon.
What Lindzen Actually Argues
Lindzen does not deny that the planet is warming. He does not deny that CO2 is a greenhouse gas. What he argues—and has argued for decades, with shifting supporting hypotheses—is that climate sensitivity is very low. That is, that the amount of warming you get from doubling atmospheric CO2 is far smaller than the scientific mainstream concludes. He argues the feedbacks that amplify warming—particularly involving water vapor and clouds—are weaker or even negative. The planet, in his telling, has a natural thermostat that prevents serious harm. Nothing to see here. Move along.
This is a coherent scientific position. It is also one that the broader scientific community has examined rigorously and, each time, found lacking.
His "Iris Effect" hypothesis—the idea that tropical clouds would thin in response to warming, allowing heat to escape and damping any temperature rise—was tested by multiple independent research teams and did not hold up to the observational data. His water vapor arguments were similarly examined and found to be inconsistent with satellite measurements. The Global Climate Coalition—an industry lobbying group, mind you, hardly a hotbed of alarmism—reviewed Lindzen's contrarian arguments and quietly set them aside because the supporting evidence was too weak to use.
Let that settle for a moment. The fossil fuel industry's own scientists looked at Lindzen's work and said, in effect, we can't build a corporate strategy on this math.
The "Cautious Concern" Is Not Alarmism—It's the Science
Here's what I want to be direct about, because this forum sometimes frames this as a binary between hysterical alarmists and cool-headed skeptics: the mainstream scientific position on climate change is, itself, the cautious and measured one.
The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change does not predict apocalypse on a fixed schedule. It publishes ranges of probability and magnitude. It uses phrases like "very likely" and "high confidence" with specific technical definitions. It presents uncertainty honestly and explicitly.
Crucially, in physics and data science, "uncertainty" does not mean ignorance; it means error bars. We are uncertain whether a doubling of CO2 will warm the planet by 2.5°C or 4°C, but the mathematical certainty that it
is warming is undisputed. The consensus is not a doomsday cult. It is a careful aggregation of evidence from atmospheric physicists, oceanographers, glaciologists, and paleoclimatologists across dozens of countries who have no particular institutional incentive to agree with each other.
When those scientists say there is a "substantial risk" of warming considerably larger than 1°C this century—with attendant risks to sea level, agricultural systems, extreme weather frequency, and ocean chemistry—that is not hysteria. That is the application of probability to consequences. It is the same reasoning we apply to earthquake engineering, actuarial tables, and hurricane preparedness. We do not wait for absolute certainty before we reinforce a bridge.
Lindzen's rhetorical move—and it is a move, whatever its scientific dressing—is to treat uncertainty as a reason for inaction rather than as a reason for prudence. He is technically correct that climate models have error bars. He is also not entirely wrong that many individual actions people take to address climate change—the reusable straws, the carbon-offset airline tickets, the feel-good gestures—are largely inconsequential at scale.
But watch what he does with those correct observations: from them, he makes an unjustified double leap—that we therefore "don't know if there is a problem," and that because some proposed solutions are inadequate, the search for better ones should be abandoned. If your house is on fire and a glass of water doesn't put it out, the conclusion isn't that fire is a myth. It's that you need a fire truck. Lindzen points at the inadequate glass of water as an excuse to let the house burn. That is not a scientific conclusion Lindzen is offering. That is a policy preference dressed in a lab coat.
The Colleagues He Left Behind
In 2017, Lindzen sent a petition to President Trump urging withdrawal from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. He described the 300 signatories as "eminent scientists and other qualified individuals." A review of the list by the
Guardian found few actual climate, earth, or physical scientists among them.
Twenty-two of his own MIT colleagues—people who worked in the same building, in the same field, who know his work as well as anyone on Earth—responded with a public open letter. Crucially, they didn't just disagree on policy; they specifically called out factual errors in Lindzen's letter. They noted the near-universal agreement among professional scientific societies—the American Meteorological Society, the American Geophysical Union, and 140 national academies of science—on the reality and seriousness of human-caused warming.
"In stark contrast to Lindzen's letter," wrote Kerry Emanuel, an MIT professor of atmospheric sciences and a world-leading authority on hurricanes, "ours was signed only by those who know something about the climate system."
That is not a dismissal from ideological opponents. That is a verdict on data from his closest peers.
What to Do With All of This
You can acknowledge—as I do—that Lindzen raises legitimate points about scientific culture, about the temptation to overstate certainty, and about the complexity of climate modeling. These are fair critiques in principle. The response to them is not to conclude that the science is therefore useless. The response is to engage with probability and risk honestly.
A doctor who tells you that you have a 70% chance of a serious heart attack in the next decade if you don't change your habits is not being alarmist. She is doing her job. You can dispute her model. You can seek a second opinion. But if your response is to hunt for the one retired cardiologist out of a hundred who thinks your real risk is more like 5%, and to treat his lonely minority view as permission to order the bacon cheeseburger—well, that's a choice. It is an emotional coping mechanism, but it is not a scientifically defensible response.
Cautious concern is not alarmism. It is the rational response to substantial risk, communicated by the overwhelming weight of expert evidence, that has been stress-tested by independent scientists across decades and continents.
Richard Lindzen is a smart man who has spent the last thirty years being wrong about the most important question in his field, finding new ways to be wrong about it, and being celebrated for that persistence by people who have a financial or political interest in his being wrong.
You are allowed to take him seriously. You are not required to take him at his word.