Pols weather the storm by blaming slick meteorologists

N.Y. Gov. Andrew Cuomo tells reporters
why the predicted blizzard never occurred. AP photo

In Michigan and across the U.S., when storms appear on the horizon in come the risk-averse politicians, governors and mayors playing the role of protector of the populace, relying on phony forecasts in order to take “bold steps” that the pols hope

will be remembered by their constituency at election time. 

  

Is it the perfect marriage?

Politicians, known for their half-truths and spin, have hooked up with weather forecasters who, by many accounts, have a bit of huckster in them.

The “Snowmageddon” storm that was supposed to cripple New York City this week serves as the latest example of governors and mayors foolishly relying upon unreliable weathermen and women and their doomsayer proclamations to shape the government’s response to the dark clouds approaching.
In New York City, as Winter Storm Juno (when did we start naming blizzards?) neared, officials shut down the Big Apple’s 110-year-old subway system for the first time ever due to snowfall. Travel bans blocked traffic on highways in and out of the city. Airports closed, cancelling thousands of flights. Commuter trains came to a halt. NYC’s 8.5 million people were told by New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo and Mayor Bill de Blasio to hunker down and prepare for at least two days of snowed-in isolation.

The warnings about a paralyzed metropolis became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But when the heart of the storm passed far to the east, the forecasted snowfall of about two feet amounted to little more than eight inches. And the pols had some explaining to do. 
New Yorkers breathed a sigh of relief on Tuesday and then collectively wondered, “What was that all about?”

What it was about is a reliance on a weather forecasting business that too often gins up the numbers to get people’s attention. Much of this is all about TV and radio ratings. Many of us in Michigan suspected as much for years.
The National Weather Service’s computers had offered three possibilities for NYC and neighboring New Jersey, where Gov. Chris Christie also faced a lot of second-guessing questions on Tuesday after shutting down highways and public transit. The three potential outcomes: one foot, two foot, three foot.
The local and cable TV channels, including The Weather Channel, latched onto the two foot narrative and let the story ride to its conclusion. Some leaned toward the more intriguing story of a possible three feet. The one-foot scenario was ignored.

The inside story about the ways meteorology is conveyed to the public was exposed three years ago by Nate Silver, the statistician whiz kid who gained fame in recent national election cycles by displaying an uncanny ability to predict voting outcomes.

In his 2012 book, The Signal and the Noise, Silver explained how weather reports in the media often fail to adhere strictly to probability and statistics or sophisticated computer models.
For example, a study of Kansas City stations found that local weathermen provided far less accurate forecasts than the National Weather Service.
Some TV types blatantly adjust the numbers – snowfall, rainfall, wind chills or heat – to get the attention of their audiences. The Kansas City study found that when TV meteorologists warned to “get out your umbrellas” due to a 100 percent chance of rain, it failed to rain at all one-third of the time. This is what’s known in the business as the “wet bias.”
These forecasters speak with authority to their audiences but, away from the cameras, they are unabashed in their thirst for TV ratings. Incredulously, one of them said to the researchers conducting the study: “Accuracy is not a big deal.”

So, in come the risk-averse politicians, playing the role of protector of the populace, relying on hucksters spouting phony forecasts in order to take “bold steps” that they hope will be remembered by their constituency at election time. 

If the storm warnings prove faulty and the precautions unnecessary, the pols do what they do best: They engage in finger-pointing. They blame the weather forecasters.
The “better safe than sorry” approach stands as a far more politically palatable path for these officials than failing to adequately prepare and subsequently witness their constituents unexpectedly stranded in the snow or dealing with power outages, suffering from hypothermia or, at a minimum, cursing the mayor as they shiver in the cold.

Numerous officials have suffered at the hands of Mother Nature in the past, including de Blasio during a botched snow-plowing effort by the city during a blizzard last February.
The NYC mayor at that time not only engaged in finger-pointing, he also took on the weathermen with another of the pols’ honed skills: bickering. De Blasio engaged in a highly publicized battle with NBC weatherman Al Roker over assertions that the meteorologists got things wrong.

In Michigan, officials of various stripes engaged in this unseemly love-hate relationship with their local meteorologists during last year’s unprecedented winter.

Despite the record snowfall of 2013-14, several of the largest storms predicted by the TV weather personalities never materialized. School superintendents who took preemptive action by closing schools many hours in advance of predicted precipitation were blasted by parents when only one or two inches fell.
At the same time, if I recall correctly, one of the largest storms to hit southeast Michigan went undetected by the weather forecasting folks. Under those circumstances, it was the county officials and road commissions that were blown away by the public outcry.
Again, better to brace for the worst possible scenario than to get caught unprepared and suffer a devastating political setback. The politicians can rely upon the National Weather Service, which offers far more accurate forecasts than the media, to explain their level of precautionary measures. But their constituents listen to the commercial outlets that live off of worst-case warnings.

When an approaching winter storm is described with a hint of impending doom, people become fixated on their TV screens. TV producers take full advantage. On-camera reporters shivering in a snowstorm become standard fare for hours on live broadcasts, predicting possible death and mayhem as the storm intensifies.

At the first sign of snowflakes, the bundled-up weather reporters are out in the spotlight, demonstrating how they are braving the blizzard – a storm that may never come to pass. If they’re wrong, they’ll move on to another subject.

But for the mayor or governor under the hot lights of the political stage, they sweat it out, hoping that the frigid cold and deep snow comes as expected, offering them the comfort of a personal tragedy averted.