Near the end of the classic L. Frank Baum story, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Dorothy, with her dog Toto and her three friends, return to the Emerald City to see the Wizard once again. Having vanquished the Wicked Witch of the West, they had come to claim the rewards the Wizard had promised them during a previous visit if they would destroy the Witch.
Now the Wizard was considered an all-powerful and fearsome individual—one whom no one would dare defy lest his wrath descend upon them; and now he was trying to put them off (what we today call stonewalling). But he had promised, and Dorothy and her friends, who had gone through much travail to find and destroy the Witch, would not be put off and demanded their deserts. As the Wizard tried to delay them, they became angry, and the Cowardly Lion gave a mighty roar of protest. This so upset Toto that he jumped away in alarm and upset a screen in the corner of the room.
Lo, behind the screen was a little old man who claimed to be Oz, the Great and Terrible.
The ensuing conversation resulted in the little man admitting that he was making believe.
"Making believe!" cried Dorothy. "Are you not a Great Wizard?"
"Hush, my dear," he said. "Don't speak so loud, or you will be overheard--and I should be ruined. I'm supposed to be a Great Wizard."
"And aren't you?" she asked.
"Not a bit of it, my dear; I'm just a common man."
"You're more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; "you're a humbug."
"Exactly so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased him. "I am a humbug."
"Doesn't anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked Dorothy.
"No one knows it but you four--and myself," replied Oz. "I have fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room. Usually I will not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am something terrible."
Let’s re-phrase this dialogue to something more recent and familiar:
"Making believe!" cried the world. "Are you not a Great Climate Scientist?"
"Not a bit of it, my dears; I'm just a common researcher."
"You're more than that," said a few, in an accusing tone; "you're a humbug."
"Exactly so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased him. "I am a humbug."
"Doesn't anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked some.
"No one knows it but you few--and myself," replied the researcher. "I have fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the University. Usually I will not see even my colleagues, and so they believe I am all-knowing."
Well, we know the parallels. Phil Jones of the Climate Research Unit at the University of East Anglia is a colossal humbug. He and his associates hoodwinked not only his “Emerald City” sponsors at the United Nations, but most of the world. He falsified his data, corrupted the scientific process, and made colleagues complicit in a massive fraud. The people of the world had it coming. They never investigated what was going on behind the “Wizard’s” screen.
But some hacker or whistleblower (evidence seems to point to the latter) acted as our Toto and knocked down the screen.
Good dog, Toto—whoever you are.
Now if we only had a Toto to unmask the media cover-up.
Comments