From The Conservative Woman

By Dr Tilak Doshi

ONCE upon a time, in a little village tucked between the green hills and silver streams of a prosperous land, there lived a practical and respected man named Barnabas. He was a businessman – not flashy, not loud – but the kind who believed in steady hands and reliable tools. His widget factory, modest in size but vital to the village, produced widgets – those small, everyday marvels that powered life quietly behind the scenes. 

His success depended not just on machines or plans but on his three dependable workers: Oli, Gus, and Cole. Oli was swift, always humming with energy. Gus was clean and light, always ready to help. Cole was strong and steady doing the heavy lifting, though he sometimes left dusty soot on the floor. Together, they were a formidable trio. They never missed a day of work. They showed up early, stayed late, and never said no when Barnabas asked them to stay overtime. Their work was seamless, their rhythm perfect. They were the beating heart of the factory.

And life in the village was smooth. Widgets were cheap and plentiful. Bakers baked, blacksmiths smithed, and teachers taught – powered by widgets that no one ever questioned. No one, that is, until Vin and Saul arrived.

One warm spring morning, just as Barnabas was tallying his orders, two new faces appeared at the gate. They were cheerful and glowing – Saul, with hair like golden rays and a tunic of sun-coloured silk, and Vin, with eyes that danced like leaves in the wind and a habit of whistling in the breeze.

‘We’ve heard of your factory,’ Saul said with a broad sunny smile.

‘We’d like to offer our services,’ Vin added, breezily tipping his hat.

Barnabas raised an eyebrow. ‘And what do you do?’

‘We’re workers, just like Oli, Gus, and Cole,’ said Saul. ‘Only cheaper. Much cheaper.’

Vin grinned. ‘And we’re good for the village. We don’t leave stains or smells.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ Barnabas said cautiously. ‘But tell me – can I count on you? What hours do you keep?’

Saul looked toward the sky. ‘Well, I can only work when the sun is out. Clouds and nighttime are my bane.’

‘And I,’ said Vin with a carefree twirl, ‘work when the wind blows. If the air is still, I rest.’

Barnabas blinked. ‘So… sometimes you show up, sometimes you don’t?’

‘It’s not up to us,’ Saul shrugged. ‘We go with the Weather Gods, Sun and Wind.’

‘I see.’

‘Still,’ said Vin and Saul together, ‘everyone wants to be seen hiring us, for people like the Sun and the Wind, our elements.’

Barnabas rubbed his chin. ‘But how can I run a factory if I can’t count on you to be there? What do I tell my old workers – Oli, Gus, and Cole? That they must sit idle until you decide not to show up or to leave when you feel the weather changing, and then rush into the factory to do the work?’

Before the new recruits could answer, Villen, the village head, strode into the courtyard. A large man with an even larger presence, Villen was never far from his solemn courtiers and advisors, especially Augur, his chief advisor. His rich robe was stitched with symbols of the Sun and the Wind, and he always spoke with a voice that seemed to echo with stern authority.

‘I see you’ve met Vin and Saul,’ Villen said, his tone firm and final.

Barnabas nodded. ‘I have. I was just explaining that while they seem well-meaning, they don’t fit the rhythm of my factory.’

Villen raised a brow. ‘Barnabas, this is a new era. The council has spoken. Our village must keep up with the times. Vin and Saul represent the future. They are clean, they mean well, and they offer their services cheap, helping all of us in the village.’

‘But they can’t guarantee when they’ll work,’ Barnabas pointed out with some exasperation.

‘Yes, but we can resolve that in the future when we will store their powers of the Wind and the Sun’ Villen said with finality. ‘For now, you will hire them. It’s not optional.’

‘And what about Oli, Gus, and Cole?’

‘They’ll stay – but as backups. You’ll keep them on call. They will step in whenever Vin and Saul… step out. That’s fair, isn’t it?’

Barnabas felt a tight knot form in his stomach. ‘So, I must pay my reliable workers overtime to be available for the moments when the unreliable ones vanish?’

‘That’s a small price for saving the village,’ Villen said, and ‘And stop calling them unreliable!’ He ominously added ‘Barnaby, you must know the risks that this village faces from Weather Gods if we don’t stop Oli, Gus and Cole from retiring soon. Haven’t you heard my court advisor’s counsel on the future of our village? Did you not hear Augur, who spelt out the fate of this village, cursed as it is by the likes of Oli, Gus and Cole who breathe out noxious fumes into our air as they work in your factory?’

And with that, Villen left, together with Augur and his entourage of advisors behind him. 

So began a new chapter in the widget factory’s life. Saul and Vin were now officially on the payroll. On sunny, breezy days, they arrived with fanfare and enthusiasm. On cloudy days, Vin would sometimes show up alone. On windless evenings, neither Saul nor Vin would be seen at all.

When that happened, the factory would grind to a halt – until frantic messages summoned Oli, Gus, and Cole, who rushed in from their rest days to get things moving again. But now, overtime pay was the norm. Production became chaotic. Schedules were scrapped.

And the villagers began to notice.

‘Why are widgets so expensive now?’ asked the baker.

‘I can barely heat my forge,’ muttered the blacksmith.

‘The school had to cancel the field trip,’ sighed the teacher. ‘Not enough widget-power for the cart.’

The villagers approached Villen, who stood in court with his Augur, dark-browed with glowering eyes. 

‘We’re suffering,’ they told him. ‘Things used to work. Why did you change them?’

‘These are growing pains,’ Villen replied. ‘We must listen to our Augur, to save our village. Vin and Saul will save us from the vengeance of the Weather Gods.’

‘But we can’t survive in the meantime,’ someone shouted.

Back at the factory, Barnabas sat in his office, staring at the numbers. Losses were mounting. Orders were delayed. Morale was low.

Oli, Gus, and Cole came in one evening.

‘We’ve worked for you since the beginning,’ said Oli.

‘We never missed a shift,’ said Gus.

‘We kept this place alive,’ said Cole, his hands black with sweat and soot.

Barnabas looked up, weariness in his eyes. ‘I know. And I’m grateful. But the village has changed. Villen and Augur have spoken. I’m being forced to pretend that part-time dreamers can replace full-time doers.’

Cole stepped forward. ‘You can’t build a factory on sometimes work.’

Barnabas nodded but said nothing.

And so it was that the factory struggled on in that little village. The villagers still needed widgets, but now they came at a premium. And quietly, in whispers over cold tea and dim lanterns, people began to remember the days when things simply worked.

‘Wasn’t it better when Oli, Gus, and Cole ran the show?’ they’d ask.

‘Didn’t we have more widgets then, and cheaper too?’

And some, though afraid to say it too loudly, began to wonder aloud:

‘Why did we ever let Vin and Saul into the factory at all?’

As months passed, the price of widgets rose even higher. In homes once warmed with ease, fires burned out early. In kitchens that once simmered with stew and laughter, pots stood cold. The forge at the smithy was silent. Bakers baked only by sunlight, when Saul felt like showing up. And the school’s doors closed early each afternoon for lack of widget-power.

Barnabas, his once-proud factory now a pale shadow of its former self, found himself on the brink of collapse. He was paying Oli, Gus, and Cole to linger in waiting rooms, ready to leap into action whenever Saul or Vin drifted away on their weather-tied whims. They could no longer rely on schedules – only on chance. But chance was no basis for Barnabas’ factory.

The factory teetered. Orders dried up. The regular workers were laid off. Entire shipments were returned undelivered.

And all the while, Villen and his dark-eyed Augur spoke in lofty tones.

‘You must have faith,’ Villen intoned to the hungry villagers. ‘The age of Saul and Vin is inevitable. It is the will of the elements.’

‘Have patience,’ murmured the Augur. ‘The spirits of Sky, Sun and Wind are fickle, but soon they will align.’

But no one was listening anymore. The people had grown cold – literally and otherwise. Their clothes were patched, their eyes tired. Children cried at night from the cold. The old no longer stirred from their beds.

Then, came the Widget Winter.

That season, Saul barely showed his shining face. Clouds cloaked the village. And the winds? Still as a painting. For weeks, Vin did not so much as rustle a leaf.

Without them, and without fair warning, the factory could not run. Oli, Gus, and Cole were summoned late, exhausted from endless disruptions, bitter from being treated as second-class workers. Even their formidable shoulders began to sag.

And finally, one grey morning, Barnabas posted a sign on the factory gates:
‘Widget Production Suspended Until Further Notice.’

The news spread like wildfire through the frozen silence.

That night, the villagers gathered in the square, clutching lanterns and pitchforks, faces lit with fury. And for the first time, they did not come to plead.

They came to demand.

‘We are starving,’ cried the butcher.

‘My baby shivers through the night,’ wept a young mother.

‘Our fields lie frozen,’ roared a farmer. ‘Our tools rust. And you, Villen, and your whispering Augur sit in warm rooms, telling us to wait on the wind?’

Villen stepped onto his ornate balcony, flanked by his guards. ‘This is disorder,’ he shouted. ‘You are ungrateful for the progress I have brought!’

But the villagers had had enough. They surged past his guards, who, already cold and underfed themselves, dropped their spears rather than strike their kin.

Villen turned to flee, his robes flapping like banners in retreat. Augur vanished into the woods, muttering prophecies that no one cared to hear anymore.

And so, Villen, Augur and the village council were chased out of the village for good, never to be seen again.

The village sat in silence that night, huddled around their few remaining fires, unsure of what to do next.

Then, at dawn, a man stood before them.

He was not flamboyant. He wore no robes stitched with symbols, carried no scrolls of prophecy. His name was Knut. He had once been a smith’s apprentice, known for his fairness, his clear eyes, and his habit of listening before he spoke.

‘I do not promise miracles,’ said Knut. ‘But I have reason which fears none.’

He turned to Barnabas and said, ‘You will no longer be forced to hire Saul and Vin. They are welcome to offer their labour if they wish, but only under the same rules as Oli, Gus, and Cole.’

Barnabas blinked, unsure he’d heard correctly. ‘You mean… the choice is mine again?’

‘Yes,’ Knut nodded. ‘The choice is yours. And the responsibility too.’

Vin and Saul were summoned. They stood in the square looking radiant as ever, but their smiles were nervous now.

‘You may stay in this village,’ Knut said to them. ‘We bear you no malice. But no one shall be compelled to hire you.’

‘Can we still work in the factory?’ Saul asked.

Barnabas stepped forward. ‘If you can commit to scheduled hours – rain or shine, wind or calm – you are welcome.’

Vin scratched his head. ‘We don’t really do schedules.’

‘Then perhaps the factory is not for you,’ Barnabas replied gently. ‘But you are still welcome here, as guests, and perhaps in time, your talents may be put to use in other ways – where reliability is not so vital.’

And with that, the old order was restored. Oli, Gus, and Cole returned to the factory floor, sleeves rolled up and ready. Orders came in. The forge roared again. The baker’s oven glowed warmly. The school lit its lanterns long into the afternoon.

The price of widgets fell. The air of dread lifted.

The villagers began to smile again.

Vin could be seen lounging in the meadow, occasionally turning windmills and grinding the corn. Saul spent his days tending gardens and drying fruit in the sun. They were peaceful and no longer burdened with pretending to be what they were not.

As for Knut, he became known not for grand speeches, but for quiet wisdom and practical decisions.

Under his guidance, the village returned not to the past, but to peace and stability. And in time, it grew – not on slogans or whims, but on the simple rhythm of reliable work, earned trust, and freedom of choice. Villagers contracted with each other to their mutual benefit and traded far and wide. Knut was known for his light touch in administering justice, keeping the roads and bridges in good order, and having few necessary edicts for his villagers. 

So ends the tale of the Widget Factory, the rise and fall of Villen, and the lesson learned by all who lived there:

A village survives not on the fashion of the age, but on the reliability of the things that keep it warm, fed, and alive.

And they all lived, if not forever, at least wisely and warmly and freely, ever after.

Charles Rotter

On July 11, 2025, Wyoming marked a historic milestone with the ceremonial opening of the Brook Mine near Ranchester—the first rare earth element (REE) mine in the United States in 70 years, and the first new coal mine in the state in nearly five decades. The event, attended by federal and state officials as well as local residents, underscores Wyoming’s growing role in the supply of critical minerals for modern technology and energy systems.

The significance of this occasion was not lost on attendees. U.S. Secretary of Energy Chris Wright emphasized the pervasiveness of rare earth elements in daily life, stating,

“Anything in your life that has a button… all of those things have rare earth elements playing a critical role.”

https://cowboystatedaily.com/2025/07/11/first-u-s-rare-earth-mine-in-70-years-opens-in-wyoming/

These elements are crucial for producing magnets, batteries, and electronics found in everything from smartphones to electric vehicles and military equipment.

Governor Mark Gordon praised the effort and what it represents for Wyoming’s economic future, declaring, “This is a new era for Wyoming and the nation.” U.S. Senators John Barrasso and Cynthia Lummis, along with Representative Harriet Hageman, also attended the opening, as did former U.S. Senator Joe Manchin, now a board member of Ramaco Resources, the company behind the project.

The Brook Mine stands out for its unique geology. The rare earths here are not found in traditional hard rock but are embedded in soft coal seams, described as material that

“you can hold it in your hand, and it just starts to crumble.”

https://cowboystatedaily.com/2025/07/11/first-u-s-rare-earth-mine-in-70-years-opens-in-wyoming/

This means the mine is expected to avoid the radioactive tailings associated with most hard rock rare earth operations, a detail highlighted by both officials and Ramaco executives.

Estimates suggest that the Brook deposit contains about 1.7 million tons of rare earth oxides, positioning Wyoming as a potential key domestic source for these strategically vital materials. Mining has already begun in the Monarch coal seam, with Ramaco’s CEO announcing that a pilot plant for processing rare earth elements should be operational “late this summer or early fall.”

The opening comes at a time when the United States is seeking to reduce dependence on foreign sources—especially China, which currently refines more than 80 percent of global rare earths. As Secretary Wright put it,

“For over 70 years, the United States has relied almost entirely on foreign sources… That dependence is vulnerability.”

https://cowboystatedaily.com/2025/07/11/first-u-s-rare-earth-mine-in-70-years-opens-in-wyoming/

Leaders at the event repeatedly framed the project as critical to both national security and energy independence.

Economic expectations are running high. Officials spoke of new high-wage jobs, rural prosperity, and the potential for Wyoming to lead the nation in rare earth production. Ramaco has already received grants and recognition from both federal and state authorities, highlighting broad support for the project’s ambitions. The ceremony was marked by speeches, a tour of the site, and an optimistic vision for Wyoming’s economic and technological future.

In the words of Gov. Gordon,

“This is the dawn of a new era in American energy and national security.”

https://cowboystatedaily.com/2025/07/11/first-u-s-rare-earth-mine-in-70-years-opens-in-wyoming/

The project’s backers hope the Brook Mine will inspire further investment and innovation in the domestic rare earth supply chain—ensuring that Wyoming, and the nation, are at the forefront of the next wave of technological advancement.

As the first trucks rolled away with freshly mined material, the sense of history was palpable. The Brook Mine’s opening not only reestablishes Wyoming’s reputation as a mining leader but positions it at the cutting edge of American resource development. For supporters and onlookers alike, this day represented a proud moment in the ongoing story of American ingenuity and resilience.

By Andy May

The North Pacific Index (NPI) and the Pacific Decadal Oscillation (PDO)

The North Pacific Index (NPI) is computed from the area-weighted sea level air pressure (SLP) over the region 30°N-65°N and 160°E-140°W. It measures interannual to multidecadal variations in Pacific atmospheric circulation. As explained in Trenberth and Hurrel, the winter Aleutian low pressure system moves on a decadal time scale and changes the climate and sea surface temperature (SST) along western North America and in the Northern Central Pacific. These changes are closely related to the PDO (Pacific Decadal Oscillation), which describes the same multidecadal weather and SST pattern in the same region but is calculated with SSTs using a different statistical method. Other oscillations that describe this pattern or something similar are the Interdecadal Pacific Oscillation (IPO) and the North Pacific Oscillation (NPO).

The NPI and PDO are compared in figures 1 and 2. They are different, but since they describe the same weather pattern, we will discuss them together in this post. The North Pacific SST changes tend to follow sea level air pressure changes by one to two months (Trenberth & Hurrel, 1994). Shifts in either the NPI or PDO cause major changes in the migration patterns of many fish species, as well as many weather and environmental patterns in northern Asia and in North America (Ebbesmeyer, et al., 1990) and (Lluch-Belda, et al., 1989).

As figure 1 shows, the two indices tend to track one another when the NPI SLP scale is inverted. A higher NPI area SLP is called a negative NPI, lower SLP is positive. A positive PDO Index (up on the graph) and lower average SLP over the NPI region indicates warmer SSTs off the west coast of North America and an El Niño pattern in the tropics. A negative PDO and higher NPI SLP indicates cooler temperatures on the west coast of North America and warmer SSTs in the central northern Pacific (see figure 3). Negative PDO values and higher SLP correspond to a La Niña pattern in the tropics. Figure 2 is the same as figure 1, except it only includes the winter months. Winter is when most weather events occur and it is also when the meridional transport of energy to the polar regions is maximal. Since most heat transport is via mid-latitude storms, the NPI and PDO effects in winter are more easily seen.

Figure 2 shows that the two oscillations visually correlate better in the winter months. Of the Pacific oscillations, NPI shows the best correlation to HadCRUT5, with the PDO not far behind, and both are closely related to ENSO (aka the ONI). In fact, all the Pacific Oscillations are closely related to one another. Some of them may be teleconnections, or channels, for distributing the energy flux generated by ENSO.

Figure 3 shows the NPI region and compares the positive and negative PDO to the high and low NPI SLP. The positive PDO and a positive NPI (low NPI region SLP) indicate the same SST pattern. According to Trenberth and Hurrell, the sluggish response of the large mid-latitude NPI region of the North Pacific to changes in ocean forcing effectively serves as a low-pass filter and causes this region to show long-term changes in Pacific climate.

The Pacific is the world’s largest ocean, and one would think these oscillations would have a huge influence on the HadCRUT5 global mean surface temperature (GMST), but it isn’t seen in the PDO itself. The data used to create the PDO has the global climate signal removed by subtracting the global mean SST from each point prior to the analysis (Zhang, et al., 1997) & (Hare, 1996). This is done because the leading PC (principal component) of the raw PDO is very heavily correlated (0.7) with the global mean SST (Zhang, et al., 1997). So, the correlation is there, we just don’t see it in the PDO. This removal is not done to the NPI, which is probably why it is more strongly correlated to HadCRUT5.

As we saw in the last post, the mean total Pacific SST only correlates with HadCRUT5 in the middle 20^th century. In particular, it has a poor correlation in recent decades when we have the best data. Whether this is because HadCRUT5 is flawed, or the Pacific is unrelated to recent global warming is an open question.

The Pacific Oscillations (see the list of the top 10 in table 2 here) impact global climate, especially around the Pacific Ocean, but do not correlate well with HadCRUT5. This is odd, especially considering the Atlantic Oscillations correlate better, see figure 1 here.

Characteristics of the NPI and PDO

While Trenberth and Hurrel named and described the NPI in 1994, the very similar PDO was not named until 1996 when Steven Hare suggested the name. It was later more fully described by Yuan Zhang, Nathan Mantua, Steven Hare, and colleagues in 1997 and 2002. A more detailed history of the frantic “race to describe” the well-known North Pacific weather pattern during the 1990s is given in Mantua and Hare (2002). The best early statistical descriptions of the formal PDO used today are by Zhang, et al. (1997) and Hare (1996).

A weak mirror image of the anomalies illustrated in figure 3 occurs across the South Pacific and will be discussed in a later post on the Interdecadal Pacific Oscillation or the Tripole Index (TPI). Overall, the PDO’s spatial pattern resembles that of ENSO, also discussed in a later post. The largest distinction between the PDO and ENSO are their timescales. While ENSO is primarily an interannual phenomenon, the PDO is decadal to multidecadal in scale. Thus, relatively long data records are needed to define and understand the PDO (Deser, NCAR, 2015, link).

Periodic multidecadal changes in the North Pacific climate were first recognized by studying patterns in salmon, sardine, and anchovy populations and other environmental factors along western North America and the Japanese east coast (Hare, 1996), (Lluch-Belda, et al., 1989), and (Ebbesmeyer, et al., 1990). Steven Hare recognized the connection between the environmental and fishing patterns in the North Pacific and the patterns in Pacific SSTs (sea surface temperatures) in 1996 while working on his PhD thesis and named the oscillation the “Pacific Decadal Oscillation” or PDO. We have established that the NPI is very similar climatically to the PDO, so in the rest of this post we will only refer to the PDO, but we mean both.

Figure 4 shows the ERSST v5 PDO further into the past. The PDO climate and environmental shifts that are well recognized are shown with solid lines and one that is sometimes mentioned in the literature and sometimes overlooked is shown with a dashed line. These climate and environmental shifts are most easily seen in fishing records, for example, after the 1947 shift shown in the PDO in figure 4, the salmon crop in Alaska dropped between 33% and 64%. In the same area, it increased 208% to 252% after the 1977 step change (Mantua N. J., et al., 1997).

Salmon fishing is just one Pacific environmental variable that changes with the PDO. Curtis Ebbesmeyer and his colleagues document 40 environmental variables that changed in a coordinated fashion at the 1977 climate shift (Ebbesmeyer, et al., 1990).

The best data for determining the PDO index is after 1950 and from 1950 to today the largest and most dramatic feature is the 1976-77 shift (Zhang, et al., 1997). Data from 1900 to 1950 is decent and both the 1926 and 1947 features are well established. The data prior to 1900 is not very good and that is probably why the apparent shift in 1898 is not discussed more often.

Figure 5 shows that the PDO can signal a significant change in global climate, but not always. The two exceptions are in the 19^th century and since 1997. The climate shift in 1926 signaled a period of rising temperature, the 1947 shift signaled a period of cooling, and the 1977 shift a period of warming. The shift in 1997 seems to have no global warming effect.

If one assumes that the global mean SST is mostly due to CO₂, then this effect needs to be removed, as is done in the PDO calculation. If we assume that global circulation patterns, like the PDO are contributing to global warming, then removing the global mean SST is a mistake. Since we don’t know whether either assumption is correct, we should consider both results. The global mean is not removed from the NPI, and it still shows a good correlation to the PDO. The NPI does not drop as dramatically as the PDO in recent years, see figures 1 and 2.

Discussion

The Pacific Decadal Oscillation is not directly based on trends in the average SST of a region like the AMO is, and the inputs to the calculation have the global mean SST removed, so it is less likely to reflect GMST. Trenberth and Shea recommend that the global mean SST be removed from the AMO region SSTs rather than detrend them with a least squares line, but I do not since it assumes that global trends are due to CO₂, when that may not be the case.

The PDO/NPI reflect the pattern of SSTs and wind patterns across the Northern Pacific as shown in figure 3. Which pattern exists, positive or negative, has a large impact on fishing and many other environmental factors in the Pacific region, the northwestern U.S., and off the east coast of Japan. Thus, the wind/ocean circulation patterns, along with SST, radically affect the Pacific environment.

According to Franco Biondi and colleagues’ tree-ring chronology created using trees in Southern California and Baja, the PDO extends back at least to 1661. Their chronology clearly shows the climate shifts in 1947 and 1977 and has a prominent bi-decadal oscillation (Biondi, et al., 2001). The most significant oscillations in their reconstruction were in 1750, 1905, and 1947. These are all dates of significant global cooling. If the PDO has had the global mean SST removed and it still strongly identifies global climatic events, does this mean it helped cause them? Seems logical.

It is common to hear the “consensus” say that circulation patterns don’t matter regarding global warming because all they do is move thermal energy around Earth’s surface and it is only the radiation in and out of the climate system that matters. Well, global warming is not climate, and climate is not global warming, especially when we all know that oceans limit Earth’s mean surface temperature to less than ~30°C (Sud, Walker, & Lau, 1999). Further, the climate system provides energy storage capacity that varies, it also uses some of the energy to power storms, which transport energy from one location to another. For more on Earth’s natural thermostat and “global” warming’s impact on humans see here, and the references therein.

The Northern Pacific environment appears to be largely controlled by circulation patterns and only secondarily by global average warming and cooling. Circulation patterns matter, it is possible that the Pacific significantly affects global warming and cooling and not the other way around. Both conclusions are possible and reasonable. Attempts to remove the CO₂ portion of warming by removing global average SST from indices are invalid because we cannot assume that all global warming over multidecadal periods of time is due to CO₂.

A Word about the Pacific Oscillations in general

As discussed in my last Climate Oscillations post, The Pacific Mean SST, the Pacific Climate Oscillations are an enigma. They are a very important influence on climate and the environment in the Pacific itself, the Americas, and all of eastern Asia and Australia, but they do not correlate very well with the leading surface temperature records. This is only partially by design. The leading estimates of surface mean temperature are HadCRUT5 and BEST. Figure 6 compares them.

It is clear that the HadCRUT5 (gray) and BEST (blue) reconstructions are nearly identical, yet they do not compare very well to any of the Pacific Ocean Oscillations or to the warming trend of the Pacific Ocean, which covers 33% of Earth’s surface and clearly influences weather over at least half the globe. In recent decades HadCRUT5 and BEST do compare well to the AMO, but the AMO has been in a warming trend relative to the rest of the world since the 1970s (see figure 1 here). For these reasons, it is not clear if the Pacific is telling the most accurate story about global warming or HadCRUT5/BEST are. The accuracy of both HadCRUT5 and BEST is in doubt. In any case, we will continue to discuss the remaining important climate oscillations, most of these are in the Pacific.

Download the bibliography here.