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The Forecast Factory
How Climate Science Lost the Plot
By Jim Reynolds
June 7, 2025
They told us the world would burn.
Instead, the trees got taller, the coasts stayed dry, and the polar bears invited friends. Turns out the only thing melting was credibility.
They even tried to blame the recent LA fires on climate change. But just yesterday, officials admitted the winds and dryness weren’t unusual at all. What caused the destruction wasn’t
climate—it was incompetence. Local officials failed to clear brush, failed to update evacuation plans, failed to fill the reservoirs, and failed to manage risk. The disaster wasn’t
environmental. It was bureaucratic.
Reality meets dogma, once again.
The climate scam is the most expensive panic attack in human history. And like most attacks of hysteria, it left no trace—except money missing, models broken, and a public too embarrassed
to admit they fell for it.
Let’s take a walk down memory lane—before the lane floods, obviously.
We were promised:
* Snowless winters.
* Permanent droughts.
* New York underwater by 2015.
* Climatic tipping points that tipped in 1999... and 2004... and 2012...
All of it backed by models—which is climate-speak for computer-generated anxiety. But unlike your local weatherman, climate modelers don’t get fired when they’re wrong. They get promoted.
They get grants. They get TED talks and private jets to Geneva.
Meanwhile, back in reality:
* Global vegetation is booming. NASA calls it “a greening of the Earth.”
* Polar bear numbers are up. From endangered mascot to awkward overpopulation.
* Climate-related deaths are at an all-time low.
* And the only people buying beachfront property faster than realtors... are climate scientists themselves.
This isn’t science. It’s theater. And the forecast never mattered.
Because it was never about predicting the future.
It was about programming the present.
The Church of the Model
They don’t make predictions.
They make models.
And then treat those models like prophecies carved in silicon and handed down from Mount IPCC.
The problem? The models don’t work.
They never did.
For thirty years, climate models have done one thing with religious consistency: they run hot. Every. Single. Time.
They overestimated warming in the 1990s.
They blew past reality in the 2000s.
And they’re still printing out apocalyptic scenarios that bear no resemblance to the world outside your window.
Ask them why, and you’ll get the shrug of the holy man:
“The models aren’t supposed to match observation. They’re tools for understanding.”
Translation: The map is the territory. And if the territory disagrees—it’s wrong.
You can’t question them. They’re peer-reviewed.
Which means they’ve been blessed by others who also depend on the model economy to eat.
Try submitting a paper that says “we’re doing fine”—see how fast your funding evaporates.
And the high priest of it all?
Michael Mann.
Mr. Hockey Stick himself, who managed to erase both the Medieval Warm Period and the Little Ice Age in one statistically fraudulent brushstroke. A thousand years of climate variation
flattened into a flatline—until the modern industrial era, where the graph suddenly shoots up like a haunted thermometer.
Critics called it junk science. One called it a statistical magic trick. Others called it libelous. So Mann sued. And lost. Badly. To Mark Steyn, among others.
But the graph lived on. In textbooks. In PowerPoints. In Al Gore’s back pocket.
Because the point wasn’t the truth. It was the curve. The image. The fear.
A blade-shaped stick of scientific theater.
They called it consensus.
Bob calls it collusion with equations.
And somewhere, that same hockey stick graph still lives on—untouched by data, but immune to shame.
Climate by Committee
Science used to be a method.
Now it’s a meeting.
And nobody “meetings” harder than the IPCC—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. A UN brainchild that functions less like a research body and more like a narrative laundromat,
designed to turn uncertainty into alarm with a press-release sheen.
What could be less trustworthy and less accountable than a government committee? How about a "panel"? And let’s double down and make it an intergovernmental organization—accountable
to no one. That’s the ticket.
Here’s how it works:
* Hundreds of scientists write thousands of pages, many of them cautious, technical, and full of hedging.
* Then a small team of bureaucrats, activists, and government reps rewrite the summary—you know, the only part anyone reads.
* If the summary contradicts the science? They change the science.
Consensus, in this case, doesn’t mean agreement.
It means editing until everyone nods from exhaustion.
And if you don’t nod? You’re out.
Ask Judith Curry. Ask Richard Lindzen. Ask John Christy. Scientists who followed the evidence and got sent to climate exile.
This isn’t science. It’s clerical enforcement.
It’s middle managers with spreadsheets declaring divine judgment on carbon.
And the gospel?
* All warming is man-made.
* CO2 is the villain.
* And the only solution is full-spectrum global compliance, enforced by the same people who built the crisis.
The Green Hustle
Science may have provided the set dressing.
But this show’s been about money and power from the opening curtain.
While the public was told to panic, the insiders did what insiders always do:
They positioned themselves to profit.
Carbon credits. ESG scores. Green bonds.
Every “climate solution” was a transfer mechanism—funneling wealth from taxpayers and small businesses to bureaucrats, consultants, and institutional investors.
They created a new language to justify it:
* “Net zero”
* “Sustainability compliance”
* “Social responsibility metrics”
Which all translate to: pay us or perish.
Al Gore went from failed presidential candidate to climate billionaire.
John Kerry has a private jet and a climate czar badge.
Greta became a brand.
It’s not a movement.
It’s a racket.
The scientists didn’t need bribes. They just needed grants.
Publish the panic, and you’re in. Challenge it, and you’re gone.
And while they scared you into buying Teslas and banning straws, they built a new kind of control grid—one that doesn’t need cops or tanks.
Just rules.
And guilt.
The Carbon Collar
This was never about science. It was never about weather. It was about control.
Every time, it’s the same play:
* Invent the crisis.
* Pay “scholars” and “leading scientists” to amplify it.
* Document the fantasy with precision.
* Declare the emergency.
* Suspend freedom.
* Blame the people.
COVID was the dress rehearsal.
Climate is the permanent installation.
And who’s directing the show?
* Public schools, where kids are taught to hate their own breath.
* Bureaucrats, who write thousand-page mandates no one voted for.
* Corporations, who figured out how to profit from shame.
* Global institutions, who tax the citizen without ever asking permission.
Want to see how this plays out?
Here’s your metaphor:
Your Jeep fails an emissions check.
The issue? A $10 part. Easy fix.
Except it’s sealed inside a regulatory Rubik’s cube.
You can’t replace the part—you have to drop the entire gas tank. And not just drop it—replace the whole damn thing.
Total cost? Two grand.
To fix a vapor leak smaller than a ghost’s exhale.
That’s what "saving the planet" looks like: a million tiny strangulations, each stamped with a green approval label.
They’ve engineered the world so that logic no longer applies.
You can’t solve the problem without destroying the machine.
Because that’s the goal.
The carbon collar isn’t about emissions.
It’s about obedience.
The Curtain Call
This isn’t about climate.
It never was.
It’s theater.
Global theater.
The lights are fake, the applause is canned, and the science is whatever the script demands.
But the restrictions are real.
The costs are real.
The erosion of freedom is real.
And now the plot is falling apart.
The forecasts failed. The models lied. The air stayed breathable. The cities stayed dry. The bears got fat.
The jig is up.
The grift is exposed.
And the only thing still rising—is resentment.
We must kill this false movement now.
Not gently. Not incrementally. Not with ESG talking points and polite footnotes.
With memory. With clarity. With truth.
Because the science was fake.
The experts were wrong.
And the stick they beat us with?
Was always theirs. It’s time we bash them over the head with it.
崊