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The Speaker’s Climate Change Skepticism

photograph of Louisiana state flag before clouded sky

After a tumultuous election process House Republicans finally elected Louisiana representative Michael Johnson as Speaker of the House on October 25th. As the relatively unknown politician takes up one of the most powerful positions in American governance, he has come under scrutiny for his strident Evangelicism, denial of the legitimacy of the 2020 election, and climate change skepticism.

Beyond his staunchly oil and gas voting record, a crucial red flag was a 2017 comment: “The climate is changing, but the question is, is it being caused by natural cycles over the span of Earth’s history. Or is it changing because we drive SUVs?” There is little reason to believe Johnson has become any more serious about climate change since then. For the majority of the American public, who want the government to do more to address climate change, Johnson’s position is disturbing. Such comments are also at odds with the consensus of the scientific community. But are they morally wrong?

Typically, we would consider someone’s position on climate change a factual matter, as opposed to a moral one. However, the factual and the moral are often entangled. First, because our belief in certain facts often has direct moral implications. Lives are literally on the line with climate change. Second, and more controversially, we might consider some beliefs themselves to be immoral, for example, pseudoscientific beliefs about the different intelligence of races. Part of the reason this is controversial is because some philosophers hold that people should not generally be held morally accountable for their beliefs, but only their actions.

Let us assume going forward that Speaker Johnson’s climate change skepticism is sincere. As a Representative from a state boasting a sizable oil and gas industry and as a recipient of oil and gas campaign donations, it can’t be ruled out that he is simply cynically lying about his personal beliefs to fatten his pockets. This would not be good of course, but it would hardly present a moral conundrum. More challenging is what to make of sincere climate skepticism.

To be clear, sincerity does not legitimate climate skepticism. Johnson is not a scientist, he is a lawyer, and it is unlikely that his position is formed based on serious confrontation with the scientific evidence. Like most of us, his stance on climate change probably came from some casual reading and the views of his social circle. We might suspect that motivated reasoning – where what he wants to believe subconsciously impacts what he does believe – is at play.  But none of this seems especially unethical, it’s merely human. In fact, given the long history of disinformation deployed by the fossil fuel industry to promulgate doubt about human-caused global warming, to hold someone accountable for sincere climate change skepticism is essentially to condemn them for believing someone else’s lies.

On the grounds that Johnson is sincere, and he did not “choose” his climate change skepticism, most philosophers would find it difficult to hold him morally accountable for this ignorance. But it is not impossible. One option would be if his climate skepticism is not so accidental after all. Imagine for example that Mike Johnson’s clerks prepared a report on the evidence for human caused climate change, and Representative Johnson declined to read it because he worried it would lead him to doubt his oil and gas initiatives in Louisiana. Here, in an important sense, Johnson chose ignorance.

Alternatively, we may argue that Johnson failed to live up to a reasonable expectation to form more accurate beliefs about climate change. This argument may apply especially strongly to someone in his position. As a member of Congress he has access to extensive resources and, so the argument goes, he should have used some of these resources to understand climate change more fully. In other words, this line of argument contends his ignorance is unreasonable, and therefore worthy of moral condemnation.

We can slightly tweak this, arguing that it is not simply about the resources he has available, but rather the nature of his position. He is a public servant with a responsibility to the people, and therefore his climate skepticism could be viewed as a failure to uphold the obligations of his office. Under this analysis, the moral concern about climate change skepticism does not attach to everyone, but rather specifically to those with certain kinds of responsibilities, such as politicians. Although the precise ethical contours of Johnson’s responsibilities to his voters, his party, his state, and his country is a complicated question in representative democracy, especially with so few republican voters seeing climate change as a priority.

Then there are attributionist approaches. Attributionist theories of moral responsibility aren’t concerned with whether or not Speaker Johnson chose to be a climate change skeptic, but rather what him being a climate skeptic says about him as a person and how he regards others. In some cases, like racist beliefs, it is clear how one’s belief leads to a negative evaluation of their moral character. If you learn that someone holds a bushel of racist beliefs, you learn something about who they are. Climate change skepticism does not involve vicious beliefs about others in the same way as racism, but could there be relevant similarities? Mike Johnson’s home state of Louisiana is uniquely vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, and has been deeply affected by hurricanes, tropical storm, heat waves, invasive species, and other environmental harms at least partly stemming from a warming climate. From an attributionist perspective, one can argue that Johnson’s dismissal of the human harms of climate change, illustrates a morally troubling callousness and he deserves moral condemnation on this ground.

Outside of challenging metaphysical considerations of when people are morally responsible for what beliefs, we might also focus on the real world expressions and practices of moral blame in response to Mike Johnson. For even if public moral condemnation does not intersect with some ultimate truth about moral responsibility, it can tell a story about what Americans care about, and what beliefs they will or will not accept in their leaders.

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Good To Be Skeptical? Evidentialism and Climate Change

photograph of tree in the desert

When it comes to climate change, defining the limits of reasonable skepticism is not only a matter of intellectual curiosity, but also moral and political urgency. In contemporary scientific circles, skepticism is generally celebrated as a virtue. However, those who reject the near-consensus about anthropogenic climate change also claim the “skeptic” title. This raises an important question: What does it mean to be skeptical, and when is skepticism no longer praiseworthy?

Philosophers have often pondered the extent of human knowledge. Skeptics argue that our understanding is more limited than we tend to believe. Some skeptics even claim that we can never know anything, or that none of our beliefs are justified and we ought to suspend all judgment on all issues.

Many climate scientists claim the title “skeptic” for themselves and attach the label “denier” to their opponents. The Committee for Skeptical Inquiry, for example, has called on the media to stop using the term “skepticism” to refer to those who reject the prevailing climate consensus and to instead use the term “denial.” We can, according to Washington and Cook, authors of Climate Change Denial: Heads in the Sand, think of the difference like this: “Skepticism is healthy both in science and society; denial is not.” However, when it comes to climate change, the term “skeptic” continues to be associated with those who reject the prevailing scientific consensus, blurring the line between skepticism and denial.

To better understand the differences between skepticism and denial, let’s consider a concrete example: the existence of ghosts. A ghost skeptic denies that we are justified in believing that ghosts exist. They neither believe nor disbelieve in ghosts, as they think there isn’t enough evidence to justify a belief in ghosts. A ghost denier, conversely, decidedly believes that ghosts do not exist. They disbelieve in ghosts, arguing that ghosts are incompatible with our best understanding of how the laws of the universe work, and that, absent good evidence for ghosts, we should conclude they do not exist. In general, it is not necessarily better to be a skeptic than a denier. Whether we ought to disbelieve something or merely suspend judgment depends on the particular issue and the strength of the evidence we have.

So why do Washington and Cook think that denial is always a bad thing? Ultimately, they are referring to a very specific sense of “denial.” They mean someone who clings “to an idea or belief despite the presence of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.” This is a sense of denial that draws on Freudian psychoanalysis, which characterizes denial as a pathological defense mechanism that involves denying something because one wishes it weren’t true. Denial in this sense is the result of some kind of emotional or psychological incapacity to accept reality.

It is clearly bad to be a climate change denier, or any kind of denier, in the pathological sense Washington and Cook have in mind. However, we can’t assume everyone who denies the scientific consensus on climate change is suffering from a psychological disorder. Some genuinely believe the evidence they have seen does not justify a belief in anthropogenic climate change. Whether it is a mistake to disbelieve in man-made climate change depends entirely on the strength of the scientific evidence. In my own view, the scientific evidence of anthropogenic climate change is very strong and this, rather than some psychological defect, is what makes denial inappropriate.

However, it is worth noting that most of those who reject the consensus on climate change identify as “skeptics” rather than “deniers,” claiming that they have not yet formed a conclusion on the matter. But plenty of scientists who defend the prevailing view on climate change also think of themselves as still embracing skepticism. This raises the question: who is the real skeptic?

To answer that question, we first need to understand a distinction between philosophical skepticism and the scientific skepticism advocated by figures like Michael Shermer, publisher of Skeptic magazine. Shermer defines skepticism as striking the “right balance between doubt and certainty.” As William James notes, this contrasts with a philosophical skeptic who says, “Better go without belief forever rather than believe a lie!” Philosophical skeptics only think we should believe things that are absolutely certain. Scientific skeptics try to believe whatever the evidence suggests has a greater than 50% chance of being true. These are very different standards. To philosophers, scientific skepticism is just “evidentialism” – the principle that our beliefs should be based solely on available evidence.

So who are the real skeptics? Perhaps some climate skeptics are philosophical skeptics. Perhaps they think it is more likely than not that anthropogenic climate change is real, but that we still aren’t justified in believing it. In this case, climate skeptics might be the “real skeptics,” but only on an interpretation of skepticism that most scientists would think is deeply objectionable.

But most climate skeptics are not philosophical skeptics. As the philosophers Coady and Corry observe, the debate between climate change proponents and climate skeptics is not a dispute between two groups of skeptics, one scientific and one philosophical. Instead, it is a disagreement between two groups of evidentialists, who differ in their interpretations and evaluations of the evidence and hence in their beliefs. Of course, one side must be wrong and the other must be right. But both sides appeal to the evidence, as they see it, to justify their respective views.

Proponents of anthropogenic climate change often accuse climate skeptics of disregarding the wealth of evidence supporting their stance. Conversely, climate skeptics argue that climate change advocates are swayed by personal desires, emotions, or political ideologies. But, at bottom, both criticisms reveal a shared commitment to evidentialism. These are accusations of forming beliefs based on things other than the best available evidence – of violating evidentialism. Neither side of the climate debate adopts the extreme skeptical position of suspending all judgment and belief, regardless of the evidence at hand.

Acknowledging that most people on both sides of this issue are committed to an evidentialist approach is crucial, because it encourages both sides to engage in a constructive dialogue that focuses on the merits of proof, rather than resorting to ad hominem attacks or accusations of bias. By emphasizing the importance of evaluating the strength and reliability of the evidence, it becomes possible to move beyond the polarizing and confusing labels of “skeptic” and “denier” and engage in a more fruitful discussion. Perhaps this could help reverse the current trend in public opinion toward climate skepticism.

Given that both sides of the climate change debate are committed to evidentialism, instead of squabbling over the label “skeptic,” which neither side should want to claim given its philosophical meaning, our focus should return to simply assessing the facts.

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Media Criticism and Healthy Skepticism

photograph of bagged newspaper abandoned on road

In a recent article in The Conversation, Professor Michael Socolow argues that distrust in the media is, in fact, valuable for a democracy. To make his argument, he presents historical cases of politicians criticizing media outlets, along with examples of journalists and their publishers damaging their own credibility by knowingly putting out materials that were manipulated, fabricated, or outright false. Socolow’s point seems to be two-fold: that political figures encourage citizens to distrust the media, and that journalists may invite this by engaging in unscrupulous behavior. He then notes that only in authoritarian regimes would we see citizens unwilling to express skepticism towards the media. As a result, Socolow concludes, “measured skepticism can be healthy and media criticism comprises an essential component of media literacy – and a vibrant democracy.”

Socolow is correct but in an uninteresting way. Frankly, I am unsure who he is arguing against. Few, if any, think we ought to trust every story in every outlet. But, simultaneously, we should not think there is monolithic perpetually untrustworthy “media.” Socolow gestures towards this middle-ground when he mentions “measured skepticism” in his conclusion. Yet he fails to give any account of what this looks like.

Further, I worry that Socolow’s discussion implicitly sends the message that any criticism is legitimate and healthy. The article opens by noting that being “anti-media” has become part of the Republican political identity, and mentions media criticism by politicians like Donald Trump. But surely some of the criticisms are irresponsible. Socolow also discusses Lyndon Johnson challenging accurate reporting on the Vietnam war. He follows these clearly truth-indifferent and politically-motivated media criticisms with cases of fraudulent behavior by media outlets, such as Dateline rigging GM trucks with explosives during a story on potential safety hazards.

However, there is no differentiation between the bad-faith criticisms and criticisms driven by legitimate misdeeds by members of the media. Socolow treats both as explaining why people might distrust the media, without any explanation of whether we ought to accept both sorts of critique as legitimate.

I think it is worthwhile to spend time considering what measured or healthy skepticism looks like. I cannot give a full account here; that’s a philosophical project on its own. Nonetheless, I hope that some preliminary reflection will help us determine what does and does not contribute to democratic society.

Aristotle famously argued that the virtues – admirable character and intellectual traits, the possession of which makes for an ideal person – are a middle ground or mean between an extreme of excess and an extreme of deficiency. For instance, most would say bravery is a virtue. Suppose that, after initially hearing of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine that I, with no military training or combat experience, bought an AR-15 and booked a flight to Europe to travel to the front lines. We would not call this behavior brave. I am showing an excess of what bravery requires, being too willing to risk my safety to fight against injustice, which crosses the line into being reckless. Conversely, one might fall short of bravery through cowardice. Standing by as an old woman’s purse is stolen because I was afraid of what might happen to me, shows a deficiency in my willingness to face danger. We might apply the same analysis to skepticism. One may be too skeptical, or not skeptical enough. The virtue of healthy skepticism is in the middle of these extremes.

We might start our discussion of healthy skepticism by asking: what does it mean to be skeptical? To be skeptical of something is to doubt it. But what of being skeptical in general? A skeptical person tends to doubt and scrutinize something before accepting it as true.

With Aristotle’s view in hand, we can then say that a healthy skeptic submits claims to an appropriate level of doubt before accepting them. And to determine what an “appropriate” level of doubt is, we may need to first consider what an inappropriate amount looks like.

In Meditations on First Philosophy, Rene Descartes engaged in a kind of skepticism some now call methodological doubt. Descartes attempted to systematically question each of his beliefs, and rejected all those which he was capable of doubting. Indeed, Descrates goes so far as to (temporarily) reject the belief that he had hands or even a body. This is because he could doubt these things – perhaps he was a sleeping spirit who was only dreaming that he had a body. In Descartes’ view, the fact that he could doubt a belief undermined his justification for it.

Philosophers, at least until Gettier, viewed knowledge as a justified true belief. Justified means that the belief has good support – there’s strong evidence behind it, like data or a logical proof. Belief is accepting something as true. Further, something is true when it obtains in reality.

Of course, Descartes skepticism seems extreme. The mere fact that something could possibly be wrong does not mean that belief in it is unjustified. As a result, his skepticism appears exaggerated. This would be like refusing to trust any story in any media outlet, simply because members of the media have at some point lied. It is true that any given story could be fabricated; but that does not mean we should treat all of them as fabricated.

What is the appropriate level of scrutiny to apply stories in the news if Cartesian doubt goes too far?

Ultimately, we have to consider which factors could cause or motivate a media outlet to run a false or inaccurate story (or even refuse to cover a particular story), and weigh those against considerations that support the veracity of the reporting.

When criticizing media in the U.S., we have to keep in mind that, with a few exceptions, media outlets are privately owned. Their goal is to attract viewers, listeners, and/or readers willing to pay a subscription or view an ad in order to make money. This may sometimes affect their coverage. They may be less inclined to report on the misdeeds of their advertisers. Further, to attract a specific demographic, the news outlet may adapt their coverage and tone to cater to a  particular kind of audience. They may also pursue a “scoop” – breaking a unique story first might increase viewership in the future. (Hence why Dateline would be willing to explode GM trucks, despite this angering a potential advertiser.) Each of these factors may shape what outlets are willing to report and the slant of their coverage.

Further still, reports are often created by individuals or a small team. These individuals have private interests – regularly writing reports which drive audience engagement will advance their career. They may have personal connections to the subject matter which bias their reporting in some way. A healthy skeptic understands that the news is, ultimately, produced by people not published out of the ether. We must keep in mind what both individuals and organizations will gain from our acceptance of a particular story before we place our trust in their reports.

So, what reasons would weigh in favor of trusting a report in the media?

I cannot give a comprehensive list here, instead I can offer a few criteria. First, a consensus in reporting on an event provides further justification for accepting a story. The more outlets covering the same story, and deriving similar conclusions about it, the more justified we are in accepting it. Second, the extent to which reporting is consistent with other facts and accounts affects the justification of our believing it. The more easily all the information fits together, the more likely it is all to be true. An aberrant report which claims other commonly reported stories are false is itself likely to be false. Third, reports which are falsifiable are more trustworthy than those which are not. If a media outlet claims that something which could be proven wrong is true, then they are putting their credibility on the line if their report is false. This risk indicates a certain confidence in the judgment. Further, claims which are not falsifiable are typically not worthy of acceptance; the fact that you cannot prove with certainty there isn’t a secret shadow government does not show that we should believe that such a government does indeed exist.

A healthy skepticism towards media outlets, overall, involves a complex set of attitudes and behaviors. To be a healthy skeptic, one should regularly ask who benefits and how. Who stands to gain from presenting the particular story in this particular way? Whose interests are served by remaining silent about a particular event.

Further, a healthy skeptic remembers that all private media outlets are for-profit organizations that rely on advertising, and that even public media companies are often funded by governments. These interests shape their coverage. Someone who adopts an attitude of skepticism – an attitude indeed vital to a well-functioning democracy – does not view “the media” as a monolithic entity, nor do they view the same few outlets as unerringly trustworthy. Instead, they consider each story for what it is: an act of discretion – a specific report published for an intentional reason from a particular point of view. And perhaps most importantly, a healthy skeptic will submit criticisms of the media by public officials and authority figures to the same demanding level of scrutiny.

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Duties to Vaccinate, Duties to Inform

image of 2021 with vaccine vial and syringe representing two of the numbers

The news these days has been dominated by information about the development of a vaccine for COVID-19, something that has felt like the first really good bit of news pertaining to the pandemic since it started. While there is reason for optimism, however, it is not as though the deployment of a vaccine will end the pandemic overnight: in addition to logistical problems of production and distribution, recent research suggests that it may still be possible that vaccinated individuals could spread the disease, even if they themselves will not contract it. As such, it’s not as though we can all just throw our masks in the garbage and start going to music festivals the day the vaccines start to roll out. This is not to say that things won’t get better, but that it might take a while.

You would think that the development of a vaccine would be universally regarded as good news, and that pretty much everyone would want to get vaccinated. However, when surveyed, large portions of the US population have responded that they would be hesitant to receive a vaccine, or else would outright refuse it. These numbers have varied over the months: according to the PEW research center, in May 27% said they would “probably not” or “definitely not” get the vaccine, while that number increased to 49% in September, before going back down to 39% in November. It’s not clear whether these numbers will change as more information becomes available, however; similarly, when people actually start receiving the vaccine and seeing that it’s not dangerous one might expect these numbers to go down.

Reasons for current levels of skepticism vary: while much has been made about the wildest conspiracy theories floating around Facebook – Bill Gates is trying to mind control you, or something – it seems more likely that the majority of skeptics are driven more by concerns about making the best decisions given limited information, combined perhaps with a distrust of medical experts. The question then becomes how we can best communicate scientific information to those who are skeptical. Indeed, this is a problem that we have been facing since the pandemic started: first it was information regarding the need for social distancing, then for wearing masks, and now for getting vaccinated. While at no point have we found the magic solution, it is worth considering what our roles in this process should be.

I think we have a certain obligation in this regard: beyond getting the vaccine itself, we also ought to try to inform others as best we can.

Here’s why I think this. Part of the problem in communicating information to a lot of skeptical people is that it will be difficult to find sources of information that everyone finds trustworthy. To try to address this concern, former presidents Barack Obama, George W. Bush, and Bill Clinton have stated that they would all receive the vaccine on camera to show that it is safe, with the goal of appealing to as politically diverse a population as possible. Given that a number of issues surrounding COVID-19 have become politicized, this seems like a good strategy: if those on one side of the political spectrum are less likely to trust someone from the other side, then having representatives of both sides together to present a unified message may help convince a larger audience.

(Other campaigns seem less promising: Trump, for instance, reportedly attempted to develop videos to be played on YouTube promoting the vaccine using only celebrities that were not critical of Trump or some of the causes that he does not support, such as having voted for Obama in the past or being in favor of gay rights. The number of people who met these criteria turned out to be very short.)

While trust can be affected by one’s general political position, there are additional divisions that may affect who one deems trustworthy. This can be seen in recent polls measuring Americans’ willingness to receive the vaccines that target more specific demographics. For instance, some have expressed concern that Black Americans may be particularly prone to skepticism regarding the vaccine, prompting members of various Black communities to attempt to communicate the importance of getting vaccinated. In an even more specific study, one recent poll reported that over half of New York City firefighters would refuse a vaccine. Here union leaders seem to be going in the wrong direction, stating that they would not require first respondents to be vaccinated, and that they would respect the decisions of their members.

We can see, then, that while major figures like former U.S. presidents may be seen as trustworthy sources, there is also a role for less prominent individuals to convey information to skeptical individuals. Given the importance of having as many people receive the vaccine as possible, the duty to try to inform others extends, I think, to pretty much everyone: while not everyone is a community leader, one may nevertheless be considered a trustworthy source of information by one’s friends and family, and may be able to communicate such information more effectively than former presidents or celebrities, given that one may share more values with those one is close to. When it comes to the COVID vaccine, then, one’s obligations may extend beyond just getting the vaccine oneself, and may include duties to help inform others.

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Trump, Puerto Rico, and the Ethics of Skepticism

Arial photograph of destruction caused by Hurricane Maria

In September, Donald Trump claimed on Twitter that the number of deaths in Puerto Rico caused by Hurricane Maria reported by the media was exaggerated: instead of the widely cited number of approximately 3000, Trump claimed that the real death toll was closer to 16. According to Trump the number was inflated by his political opponents with the intention of making him look bad. To support such a bold claim one would expect to be presented with a significant amount of evidence, but Trump presented none. Instead, it seems that he merely raised the possibility of a conspiracy and appealed to his supporters’ distrust of the political left in order to try to deflect criticism that he did not sufficiently address the problems created by Hurricane Maria.

Many interpreted Trump’s claims as abhorrent: not only was Trump apparently attempting to capitalize on a recent tragedy in order to score political points, he was also expressing a complete disregard for a significant loss of life. Carmen Yuliz Cruz, the mayor of San Juan, put the matter succinctly when she tweeted: “Mr Trump you can try and bully us with your tweets BUT WE KNOW OUR LIVES MATTER”.

While many from those on both sides of the political spectrum repudiated Trump’s claims, responses from some diehard Trump supporters differed. It is common to find comments on articles and tweets made by those that praise Trump for what they take to be expressions of truth, and chastise what they take to be bias in reporting. Here are some representative responses on Trump’s follow up to his original tweet:

“I think Puerto Rico needs to show a list of the names .. just like when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005 … It  only took 5 to 6 days…”

“It’s a rabbit trail designed to distract. Don’t waste time beating that dead horse Mr. President. Time to start tweeting out your MANY success. Let the mainstream media chase its tail.”

“Our President Mr Trump had done nothing wrong when Maria hit Puerto Rico he did exactly what he was supposed to. All the goods he had sent there sat in haulers no one wanted to drive them and you blame this on our President. It was their President that failed them.”

“I am amazed that “fake news” has infiltrated the weather channel. News reporters acting like the wind is about to blow them down with people walking in background at a normal pace. Then, reporters telling about a death toll with so much exaggeration. Shameful scaring of people.”

Of course, these claims are not generally supported with evidence, either. Instead, in the wake of Trump’s tweets, many of his followers have responded in the following way: it is really impossible to know, exactly, how many people died in Hurricane Maria, perhaps because it took a significant amount of time for the death toll numbers to come in, or perhaps because there are suspicions that those in charge of reporting such numbers are corrupt or incompetent. Since his supporters see Trump as trustworthy and his opponents untrustworthy, they claim that it is more plausible that Trump’s numbers are accurate.

It is unclear whether Trump truly believes what he is tweeting, or if he is trying to purposely mislead people. At the very least, what Trump appears to be doing is sowing seeds of doubt in his supporters, in this case by raising the possibility that the officially reported death toll numbers are wrong, solely on the basis of egotism and distrust. He is, then, engaging in a disingenuous form of skepticism. It is sometimes a good thing to be skeptical – we do not want to believe just anything that anyone tells us without thinking about it, and so it is often a good idea to scrutinize information we’re given or to look for additional evidence ourselves. But skepticism without cause and that is based not on trying to get to the truth can be detrimental and, in some cases, even unethical.

When philosophers talk about skeptics they have in mind someone who attempts to convince us that we do not know something (or in general, that we do not know anything) by reminding us of all the ways that we could be mistaken. For instance, the classic philosophical skeptics challenge us to consider whether we could merely be dreaming, or raise that possibility that we could be living a life in the computer simulation like the Matrix. Since these are possibilities that I can’t rule out – I really can’t tell whether I’m dreaming right now or whether I’m awake, and if I were in a computer simulation I would never know it – it seems like I’m stuck: for all I know I could very well be wrong about everything I thought that I knew.

In the real world, skepticism is typically much more narrowly focused: someone expresses a belief, and that belief is called into question because of the possibility that someone could be wrong. Again, this can be a good thing: it is a good practice to call one’s beliefs into questions and to make sure that one has good reason to believe them. But it can also be unhelpful: when we have a significant amount of evidence, raising the mere possibility of being wrong can be a distraction, something that prevents us from believing what’s true. Conspiracies are often based on unfounded skepticism: that the moon landing was faked in a Hollywood studio, or that the roundness of the Earth is a NASA plot are both possibilities, but not ones that most people take seriously. We should only pay attention to the skeptic, it seems, when they have good reasons for their skepticism.

Trump’s skepticism seems to fall squarely into the category of that which we should ignore, as there is significant evidence for the numbers that are widely reported to be accurate – for instance, in the form of an independent report conducted by The George Washington University – and no evidence that they have been fabricated. While it is still true that it is possible that the report was conducted incorrectly, and that it is possible that there is a conspiracy at play in an attempt to further discredit Donald Trump, these possibilities are not ones that we really need to take seriously: there is no evidence for these claims, and so much evidence that they are false, that we should not be worried about being wrong.

One worry with Trump’s recent tweets, then, is that he is spreading false information. However, expressing his skepticism in this way has moral consequences, as well. By convincing others not to believe that the reported death toll is correct, they will not only be less inclined to provide any assistance (say, in the form of donations to those affected by Hurricane Maria), but also threatens to strip from Puerto Ricans the right to seek such assistance. The people of Puerto Rico should be considered victims of a natural disaster, and as such we have certain obligations to help them. Trump’s skepticism, however, attempts to relinquish himself and his followers from any such obligations. The more significant problem behind Trump’s tweets, then, is not merely a dispute about numbers, but rather that an unfounded skepticism of reliable reports can result in lasting damage to people in need of aid.