But Tucker hasn't found much solidarity since his confession. "I have not received any—any—emails or any contacts whatsoever from people who have said they've had a similar journey," he says.
Before he wrote the piece, though, Tucker did meet two fellow climate converts: the married couple Susan and Roger Shamel, ex-Republicans from Bedford, Mass. They had converted back in 2006 after watching Gore's An Inconvenient Truth. Before that, the Shamels had been "doubtful"s, in Leiserowitz's terminology. Both were lifelong Republicans, though Susan's commitment had begun to wane as the GOP attacked women's reproductive rights.
After their daughter urged them to watch the film, they began researching climate issues, dropped their affiliation with the Republican party, and started the nonprofit Global Warming Education Network.
But since then, they have been largely unable to convince their friends and family of the veracity of climate science, and were eventually ostracized. "We found new friends," Susan says wryly.
This is unsurprising—entrenched ideologies often simply trump facts. People are prone to what psychologists called "motivated reasoning"; we instinctively bend available data to support our preexisting beliefs. Which means that when confronted with facts alone, skeptics usually don't budge.
That's why Tucker had to question politics first, before wrestling with the science. And the Shamels' slackening ideology likely opened the door to clear-headed analysis. Having friends and family members who are willing to goad you along helps, as does a willingness to open-mindedly wade through stuffy scientific reports. (More Americans have probably read War and Peace cover to cover than a single page of the IPCC's 4th Assessment report.)
Skeptics' reluctance to accept new information is a trait the physicist John Cook knows well. Cook runs Skeptical Science, a hugely comprehensive website aimed at rebutting climate skeptics' arguments. But after running the site for five years, he can only confirm a single case of a skeptic recanting.
I asked Anthony Watts, the meteorologist who runs what may be the most popular climate-skeptic blog, Watts Up With That, what could lead him to accept climate science. A "starting point for the process," he said, wouldn't begin with more facts but instead with a public apology from the high profile scientists who have labeled him and his colleagues "deniers."
Thankfully, most Americans remain persuadable. Polls reveal that most Americans' opinion of climate is relatively fluid, and shaped largely by current events. "Much of the ebbing and flowing of climate attitude … best resembles water sloshing in a very shallow pan," the New York Times' longtime climate writer Andrew Revkin says, "A lot of waves, very little meaning."
In other words, an extra-snowy winter may tip Americans toward "doubtful" and heat waves might lead them into "cautious" territory, but these events rarely have long-term effects. So general belief in climate change could rebound as the economy improves, or as the summers heat up. Of course, we're liable to slosh right back—unless, like Tucker and the Shamels, we've been convinced thoroughly enough to join the ranks of the "concerned" or the "alarmed." So what might lead the nation's skeptics and undecideds towards such meaningful conversions?
For skeptics, it'd probably require dismantling major chunks of the "denial industry"— the multinational corporations, conservative think tanks, and partisan cable networks that have an interest in promulgating doubt about climate science. This won't happen anytime soon.
The merely unconvinced need, above all, more and better exposure to the science. Schools should provide better climate education in their science curricula, and media outlets need to improve their coverage. With the scientific evidence growing ever more incontrovertible, and the impacts of warming becoming increasingly visible, it's possible that more and more Americans will slosh towards "concerned"—and stay there.