Page 60 of Sheltering Instinct

“Mom, I honestly haven’t looked at the modeling since we started our vacation. I can get you the specifics once we’re back at the vineyard if you want.”

“Yes, please. I'd like to know that.” Iris shifted around in her seat until her back was pressed to the sidebar. “I just thought the monsoon timing might have been something that came up at the conference you girls just came from.”

“I’d say that conference was just a source of frustration and incredulity.”

Levi heard an uncharacteristic note of defeat in Tess’s tone.

“Why?” Craig asked. “What did you learn?”

Gwen laughed. “I learned that Tess has a theory that because of social media, we’re all going to die. And very soon.”

“What?” Reaper’s smile became a chuckle.

“Gwen thinks it’s my conspiracy theory. I don’t think I’m that far off, honestly,” Tess said.

Enrico tipped his chin up. “Okay, let’s hear this.”

“Fact, not a conspiracy theory,” she started, “research tells us that the human brain gets a dopamine reward when it perceives patterns and connections.”

“Basically, what you do for work with the prediction of how weather affects populations,” Iris said. “So that accounts for why you girls like your jobs so much.”

“I hadn’t really put that together. But you’re right. However, Gwen and I base our predictions on quantitative data. In a conspiracy theory, the connections aren’t real. And interestingly, it seems to me that there’s a significant socialreward that comes with being a conspiracy theorist. People who are following the same conspiracy theories seem to feel like they’re privy to secret information, and they form a kind of clique. For people who have trouble connecting, it’s a social club.”

“There’s the monetary side of developing conspiracy theories, too,” Gwen added. “Disinformation equals clicks, and clicks equals money. Because quacks on social media are treated as though their opinions have the same weight as facts, the words of people who make the subject matter expertise their life’s work are relegated to the same level of importance as Jane the Human Weather Vane.”

“People say, ‘Do your own research.’” Tess pressed the flat of her hand to the side ledge, “They have no idea what they’re talking about. I mean, to do this personal research, are they heading out in the field or into a lab? Or are they watching shiny influencer videos that are chasing those clicks? There are sources that debunk the bunk that are reputable. But a video link sent by a bestie far outweighs the academic, mainly because the academic is often inaccessible because of the vocabulary and advanced subject matter. We are living through an extinction period, the death of expertise.”

“But this is weather, girls,” Iris said. “What could they possibly be making up?”

“I have an example, Mom. Did you hear that for nine days last year, a strange rumbling was detected?” Gwen looked around, and there were only shaking heads. “A seismic signal appeared in scientific stations all around the globe. They looked like the squiggles of an earthquake. A couple of theories were postulated about the cause.”

Tess grinned. “The most popular was that aliens had landed, and their spaceships were being detected.”

“Another prevalent conspiracy theory was that the government was doing experiments on controlling the weather.”

“These are the scientists or the conspiracy theorists who are saying this?” Enrico asked, flipping on his signal and passing the slow-moving truck in front of them.

“The conspiracy theorists—who read the scientific data and made up what they wanted to—presented at our conference advancing the idea that something nefarious was going on that the government was trying to keep from the citizenry.” Gwen bent to dig her water bottle from her pack.

“That had to spring from something,” Craig said.

“Around the third day of the rumble, we saw the speculation start popping up on social media,” Gwen said, unscrewing the top. “Of course, scientists came on to the threads, explaining that they thought that the signal machines were broken or that something had caused them to fail. But after more days of rumbling, the machines were all checked and deemed operable. The conspiracists grew louder and more alarmed. After nine days, the vibrations disappeared. The event was over.”

“We have people who monitor those chats because we use citizen scientists,” Tess explained. “They might, for example, track temperatures in their backyards or identify and count birds during migration. We include the volunteers who are willing to gather data for us in our forums. We could hear the alarm in their word choices. And we couldn’t comfort them because we didn’t know anything. In a vacuum of information, conspiracy theorists emerge. And once someone believes something, it’s tough to change their minds.”

“So itwasaliens then?” Levi asked with a smile.

“This is the current scientific theory,” Gwen paused to take a long drink, then screwed her cap back in place, “The concentration of greenhouse gases has increased the volatility ofweather patterns. In our traditionally frozen areas, ice is melting at an unprecedented rate. The conclusion, as of now, is that there was a mega-tsunami. It was created by a wave when an ice break splashed into a fjord. What the apparatus was measuring was the sound of the ensuing wave.”

Craig shrugged. “So the nine-day rumble is no more. That conspiracy theory will fade.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Tess said, “we’re facing a significant problem with the tech-bros and their philosophy: move fast, break things.”

“My,” Iris put a hand to her chest, “that sounds downright ominous.”

“I was out in California a lot last year, volunteering for a science experiment,” Reaper said. “And I heard something about that. Are you talking about the guys who are developing a way to offset carbon emissions with space pollution?”

“That’s them. They were at our conference. Scary as shit.” Gwen turned. “Oops, sorry, Mom.”

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