Many years ago, interrupting my return from Sydney to Stockholm, I stopped in Brisbane (Australia) to give a half-dozen amateur and half-baked lectures on environmental economics. In my mathematical economics classes in Sydney I usually walked up to the podium or whiteboard with a smile on my face, ready and able to deal with anyone who thought that they had a lesson to give my good self, while in Brisbane I was in unknown territory, because my knowledge of this subject (environment and climate) was probably only marginally superior to that of the less alert members of my audience. 

As I write the above lines, in the charming university town of Uppsala (Sweden), and also Stockholm, hundreds or maybe thousands of person are forming ranks in preparation for a Climate March (or demonstration), while gorgeous Paris (France) is in the process of opening its arms, hearts and restaurants to politicians (and their advisors) from 140-150 countries, who will be in the front line of  perhaps the largest climate/environmental conference in history,

I won’t attend any of these gigs. I wouldn’t have anything to do with them if I received a round-trip, all-expenses paid invitation because I am too smart to waste my valuable time listening to the fractured wisdom launched by distinguished conference attendees with less than a miniscule insight into climate/environmental/energy matters. 

What I will do however is to tell them how I attempt to boost my slender knowledge of climate/environmental issues. First and foremost, on that subject, I am only interested in the writing and thinking of superstars. This practice, incidentally, is not necessary for making the most of your courses in calculus, economics, strength of materials, ballistics, or history, but it is absolutely  necessary for this topic, because otherwise you expose you and yours to the most grotesques varieties of nonsense.