Task Force Climate Change: - Am MIT spezialisierte KI-Forschung

Task Force Climate Change:
A Patron Saint of Lost Causes,
or Just Ahead of Its Time?

David W. Titley

This essay explores the origins of the 2009 UNS. Navy Task Force Climate Change
(TFCC) from the perspective of its founder and initial director. The director’s back-
ground is described briefly, along with events and actions of Navy leadership that
led to creating the TFCC. The essay states five lessons learned within the context of
setting the direction and tone for change in a large organization and examines five
areas in which the TFCC arguably has made a positive difference to the U.S. Navy.
The essay provides an overview of U.S. Navy and national climate-related actions
after the author’s tenure as director of the TFCC, and concludes by addressing cli-
mate change risks within the context of current efforts to understand and manage
adverse impacts from the COVID-19 virus.

A ll I ever wanted to do was to forecast the weather. I’m not sure exactly

why or where that interest came from; my parents told me a tornado went
through our backyard when I was two years old, although I have no recol-
lection of that event. I grew up in an old manufacturing city in upstate New York;
maybe the brutal winters with eighty inches of snow each year had something to
do with it. Whatever the reason, by the time I was in first grade, my six-year-old
self knew I was going to work in weather-related fields for the rest of my life, sogar
if I really didn’t know what that meant at the time.

I attended Penn State University for my undergraduate studies, which was and
still is a magnet for teenaged kids with a passion for weather. Their undergradu-
ate meteorology program has been leading the nation for many decades. Unglücklich-
natürlich, that meant paying out-of-state tuition, something that really wasn’t within
reach for our family. In the search for how to pay for college, I stumbled upon the
Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC), a recruiting and commissioning pro-
gram used by the military services to bring young officers into their ranks. The Air
Force and Navy each had their respective weather programs, so I applied to both
services. The Air Force said “no,” the Navy said “yes,” and so at seventeen years of
Alter, I joined the U.S. Navy as a midshipman.

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While my initial goal was to immediately enter the Navy’s weather corps
(known as oceanography special duty officers), the Navy had other plans for me.
Eher, I was sent to sea on an old guided missile destroyer as a regular line of-
ficer to “drive ships.” Although I was intensely disappointed, having waited my
entire life to be a meteorologist, it turned out to be the best career move possible.
There is no better way to understand your future customer or client than to be
eins. Zusätzlich, you build a lot of credibility within the ranks of naval officers
by becoming qualified in one of the core areas of the Navy: driving ships, flying
aircraft, or operating submarines. I was learning a lot about institutional culture
and how to talk about subjects that, while important, may be seen as peripheral to
the audience.

For nearly thirty years, I worked as a naval officer specializing in oceanography
and meteorology. Much of my time was spent communicating weather impacts to
the operators: those who were in charge of ships, aircraft, submarines, or special
Operationen. Nearly a decade of my time was spent at sea, where you get firsthand
and immediate feedback on your weather forecasts and recommendations! Along
the way, the Navy sent me to the Naval Postgraduate School to earn both a mas-
ter’s and a doctorate degree in meteorology. I was also able to work for the secre-
tary of Defense’s internal long-term think tank, an experience that taught me a lot
about competitive strategies and net assessments. In 2004, I assumed command
of the Fleet Numerical Meteorology and Oceanography Center. Shortly after ar-
riving, I hosted a workshop titled “Climate Variability and Change in Asia: Impli-
cations for Regional Stability.” The workshop was cosponsored by the National
Academy of Sciences (NAS) and the Department of Defense’s (DOD) Office of
Net Assessment. Bedauerlicherweise, there was neither funding (nor interest) for any
follow-up work and the notes were soon set aside.

In 2007, figurative lightning struck, and I was fortunate enough to be selected
for the rank of admiral. My first job as an admiral was to run the operational com-
ponent of Naval meteorology and oceanography; most of the broader ocean and
weather policy and budget decisions were made by the oceanographer of the Navy
and the Navy’s headquarters staff in the Pentagon. Jedoch, events were happen-
ing that year that would get the Navy’s attention and, ultimately, raise the institu-
tional awareness of a changing climate.

I n the autumn of 2007, the amount of Arctic sea ice precipitously collapsed.

Since the Cold War ended, the Navy had decreased its interest–along with its
operations and research–in the Arctic, but submarines still transit through
or operate in that region and some of our closest allies continue to operate in the
High North. As often happens with a surprising external event, lots of people gave
lots of unsolicited advice and recommendations to the Navy and its senior lead-
ers. And as is also common with large organizations, it took a while for the Navy

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Dädalus, das Journal der American Academy of Arts & SciencesTask Force Climate Change

to respond, and when it did, it appointed someone to study the matter and make
recommendations.

This is how, in the spring of 2009, while going about my daily operational job,
I received a phone call from Admiral Gary Roughead, the Chief of Naval Oper-
ations (CNO). The CNO is the admiral in charge of the entire U.S. Navy, and he
asked me to come up to the Pentagon, assume the duties as oceanographer and
navigator of the Navy, assess the issues going on with the Arctic in a changing cli-
mate, and give recommendations as to what, if anything, the Navy should do. In
the military culture, when you are “asked” to do something by someone senior
to you in your chain of command, the correct response is “aye aye sir/ma’am,”
and so my family and I moved shortly thereafter from Mississippi to Washington,
D.C., and I began work at the Pentagon. In May 2009, two weeks after moving to
D.C., I was standing in front of a meeting of the CNO, his deputy, and his most
senior staff, recommending what actions the Navy should take in reaction to the
sudden changes in the Arctic maritime environment.

At first–or even second–glance, it’s doubtful many would have picked me to
lead what turned out to be a multiyear Navy effort to better understand the im-
pacts of climate change on naval and defense operations. I did not have a back-
ground in climate science and was not employed by the Navy to do research. Das
one-day climate and national security meeting I hosted five years prior in Mon-
terey, Kalifornien, never appeared on anyone’s radar. My Ph.D. research had been
focused on understanding why some typhoons strengthened rapidly and others
did not, hardly the stuff of rising temperatures, melting ice, or expanding oceans.
I had not paid a lot of attention to the discussions surrounding climate change, als
there were more than enough challenges in operationally observing, predicting,
and understanding the impacts and opportunities of the weather and ocean en-
vironments on tactical and operational scales of time and space. I would have to
say I was an agnostic on climate science, or at least how climate science was often
portrayed: it was not in my core area of expertise and much of the field seemed to
be co-opted by environmentalists, with their emphasis on the plight of charismat-
ic megafauna, usually thousands of kilometers away from where the people they
were communicating with lived.

O ne of the things I enjoyed so much about my career in the Navy was the

wide diversity of jobs, problems, and opportunities it presented. Every two
to three years, you were sent to do a different job, to work for a different
boss, in a different environment, Und, usually, in a different organizational compo-
nent. Also, when the opportunity came along to examine the changes in the Arctic
and what it meant, I was happy to do so, and set about doing it in a methodical way.
Two of the things I do when tackling a new challenge are: 1) attempt to ascer-
tain what is ground truth, and to what level of confidence do we understand these

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149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

Fakten; Und 2) find the truly smart people in the field, talk to them, ask them ques-
tionen, figure out the strengths and weaknesses of the arguments, and ramp up my
own understanding as quickly as possible. So that’s what I did. In the two weeks
I had to prepare, I flew out to the Applied Physics Lab at the University of Wash-
ington and had intensive sessions with the scientists at their Polar Science Cen-
ter (PSC). I learned that although the Navy had mostly divested from the Arctic,
the PSC “kept the (Arctic) flame burning.” Their scientists were as knowledge-
able about conditions in the Arctic, and what was forcing the changes, as anyone
in der Welt. I researched the counterarguments to global warming, either that it
was not happening or that recently observed changes had little to do with human
Aktivität, and found those arguments fell apart in the face of overwhelming evi-
dence: the evidence based on physical theory that we have understood for over 150
Jahre; evidence from a wide variety of independent observations; and evidence
from multiple climate models that, at their core, are based on the same physics
that allow us to successfully predict individual routine or extreme weather events
many days in advance.

I was fortunate to not have much intellectual baggage on this subject. Der
Navy, for all its faults and flaws, is a technocratic organization that, for the most
Teil, will consider evidence if it is framed and communicated in a way that is un-
derstandable to smart but nonspecialized leadership. Years at sea and a history of
warfare have taught the sea service that you ignore documented facts and trends
at your peril, as your adversary may well use that knowledge to seek advantage in
the next round of combat or influence on the sea. If there was unease on the Navy’s
Teil, it was knowingly engaging on an issue that, for reasons completely unrelat-
ed to the science or facts, had become increasingly partisan by 2009. By and large,
the Pentagon and the military services work hard to avoid partisanship or even the
appearance thereof.

What did I tell the Navy’s leadership back in May 2009? I told them that the
changes in the Arctic were a challenge, not a crisis, but if we ignored the chang-
es, it would become a crisis for our Navy. I also told them the changes in the Arc-
tic were the harbingers of much larger changes and recommended creating a U.S.
Navy Task Force Climate Change (TFCC) to examine future impacts and recom-
mend a way ahead. The Navy agreed and on May 15, 2009, initiated the TFCC, mit
a near-term emphasis on the Arctic. The CNO gave me arguably the best set of or-
ders I could ever have hoped for: “Show leadership on this [climate change] issue
at the national and international level.”

Natürlich, nothing in a big organization, or the real world, happens in a vacu-
um. The Pentagon, spurred in large part by a 2007 CNA (formerly Center for Na-
val Analysis) report on climate change and national security, and bipartisan en-
couragement from the U.S. Senate, was thinking about how to incorporate cli-
mate issues into its upcoming strategic review, the so-called Quadrennial Defense

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Dädalus, das Journal der American Academy of Arts & SciencesTask Force Climate Change

Rezension (or QDR), due in 2010.1 Gleichzeitig, the NAS was working on a report
for the Navy examining the national security implications of climate change that
would be released in 2011.2 These events provided momentum and “top-cover”
within the Department of Defense for the Navy to confront openly the risks and
challenges of a changing environment.

With the luxury of a decade’s worth of hindsight, I can say the climate-related
QDR language of 2010 was the most appropriate for that time. It highlighted the
inextricable links between our global energy choices and the rate and magnitude
of future climate change. The QDR correctly stated that while climate change was
unlikely to be the sole cause or driver of a future conflict, it had significant poten-
tial to (in my words) “make bad things worse.” The QDR rightly highlighted the
risks to defense infrastructure in a warming, wetter world with rising sea levels.
The QDR, unfortunately, did not anticipate the lack of action we would take to ad-
dress these risks over the coming decade.

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F or the next three years, while on active duty, I had the opportunity to both

learn and talk about the impacts of climate change on the military and spe-
cifically on the Navy. The lessons learned will be familiar to anyone tasked

with driving change into their organization.

Understand the culture of the organization to which you are trying to communicate. Der
UNS. military is a conservative but pragmatic culture that believes it’s based on a
meritocracy. How much that is true is best left for others to decide, but that is the
self-talk in the Building (“the Building” is how many in the military describe not
only the physical structure of the Pentagon, but the culture of the DOD). The mil-
itary is a huge consumer of science and technology, but paradoxically does not
think of itself as a science organization.

In the late 1990s, I was the fleet oceanographer for the U.S. Navy’s Seventh
Fleet, the organizational unit responsible for naval operations in the western Pa-
cific and Indian Oceans. One of my daily tasks was to give our three-star com-
mander a quick weather update sometime between 6 Und 7 Bin. each morning.
While ostensibly about weather, it was really about our operations over the next
few days, and what significant issues or impacts the commander should have on
his scope. While I could have talked exclusively about the weather, the Fleet units
of the Navy are operational entities, not science organizations. Their culture val-
ues operational excellence, so framing weather discussions in that construct made
my briefings much more valuable and increased my credibility to the staff. Das
was invaluable because, when weather really was the primary issue of the day,
people would not only listen to me, but would also oftentimes approve my recom-
mendations on how to manage that risk.

Given these realities, I would never lead a Pentagon briefing with a discussion
of greenhouse gasses or the Keeling curve, but rather would talk about the impacts

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149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

of a changing Arctic, rising sea levels, or effects on specific bases. The most fre-
quent questions I received were “Is this really going to be bad?”; “When will this
happen?”; “How sure are you?”; and “What’s this going to cost?” The interests
and questions of that audience would dictate how much (wenn überhaupt) of the science be-
hind climate change I would discuss.

Talk about what interests your audience, not you; talk in their language, not yours. Suc-
cessful briefs in the Pentagon are simple: they tell a story; they tell someone what
the risk is, what the mitigation strategies are, when we need to implement them,
and how much the remedy will cost. The brief needs to be grounded in analysis
and intellectual rigor, and the briefer needs to be familiar with the underlying sci-
enz, engineering, intelligence, and so on that supports the discussion. But delv-
ing immediately into the details–or science–is rarely a recipe for success.

I saw this firsthand when I was able to successfully argue for several million
dollars in additional funds to recapitalize the U.S. Navy’s weather modelling capa-
bility. Several of my predecessors had tried to do this without success. They were
armed with science facts, dozens of graphs showing different levels of weather
model skill, studies from highly paid outside analysts, all to no avail. I took a dif-
ferent tack: Our current generation of weather model had its genesis thirty years
ago. I told my boss at the time who controlled the funding that this was really no
different than why the Navy always needs to be building ships. Naval ships have
about a thirty-year life expectancy, and I told him that our model had been around
for thirty years and had had many upgrades, but at some point, you just need to
build a new one. He agreed. The smartest thing I did then was to take all my slides
and analyses off the table, put them back in a folder, thank him, and leave his of-
fice. The entire meeting lasted five minutes.

The primary interest in the military services and the DOD is ensuring our forc-
es, both today and tomorrow, can counter any threats posed by a potential ad-
versary, and that we can do that in the operating environment (or battlespace)
of tomorrow. If the physical battlespace is changing, then we need to change as
well. Having said that, an understanding of this science and, frankly, the exter-
nally driven disinformation campaigns surrounding climate change, was critical.
Some people genuinely wanted to understand, while others had significant mis-
conceptions about our changing climate and its anthropogenic forcing. Being able
to explain the science using stories, plain-language terms, analogies, and even
defense-relevant jargon was an asset.

The messenger matters. Although we would like to believe that in a diverse and in-
clusive world, it does not matter who is delivering the message, in the real world,
that’s not the case. Wearing the uniform of a naval officer, being selected as an ad-
miral, and being qualified in two separate warfare communities gave me credibil-
ity when talking to other senior personnel in the DOD or Navy, even though there
are many climate scientists who have a much deeper understanding of various as-

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Dädalus, das Journal der American Academy of Arts & SciencesTask Force Climate Change

pects of climate change. Tribal affiliations matter, and the military is no different
than any other part of society in that regard.

Sometimes appearances and perceptions are just as important as reality.
During the Paris Agreement negotiations, Senator Ted Cruz (at the time a pres-
idential candidate) held a U.S. Senate hearing on climate change (“Data or Dog-
ma”). Of the five witnesses, I was the only mainstream scientist. But rather than
play the role of a scientist, I thought it was important to also portray my role as a
retired senior naval officer. Arguably, one of the most important things I did in the
hours preceding the hearing was to get a fresh haircut!3

Even when our minds know we should plan ahead, it’s extraordinarily difficult to change.
There is an entire body of literature examining the incentives for, and barriers to,
a military organization changing itself. My personal experience was that most
often, change was either driven by senior leadership, or it came in response to a
threat or challenge that now appeared to be near-term.

It was a late Friday winter’s evening in the Pentagon, and I had one briefing
links. It was to a four-star admiral who had a no-nonsense reputation, to put it kind-
ly. It did not help that his aide informed me he was suffering from the flu and real-
ly needed to go home, so his mood was probably not the best. My brief was about
China’s increasing capability to threaten our aircraft carriers. There really wasn’t
much new here–we had been studying this particular threat for several years.
About five minutes into the brief, the Admiral stopped me and wanted to go over
the timelines of when China could deploy this threat. Er sagte, “this is now inside
our budget cycle; that changes everything.” The threat had moved from one of the
nearly infinite, “this could happen sometime in the future” issues to something
that now should be countered within the current five-year budget cycle.

The Pentagon probably has a better reputation for long-range planning than it
should. While no one in the Building intentionally designs a force to fight the last
Krieg, divining the future, like predictions, is hard (with apologies to physicist Niels
Bohr). What may be less recognized is the huge range of predictability across fu-
ture events, dependent upon spatial and temporal scales, and root causes. At one
end of the predictability scale are astronomical and tidal events, described well
by Newtonian physics. Although they are predictions, they are treated as simple
Fakten. Many of the threats the Pentagon addresses are on the other end of the spec-
trum: a complex mix of economics, Technologie, Soziologie, and individual ego,
leading to very low predictability, certainly in a deterministic sense. I argued that
climate change and climate risks are somewhere in the middle of this spectrum.
We have a much higher degree of predictability of the earth’s climate thirty, fifty,
or seventy-five years in the future than we do about the state of our great power
rivals, violent extremism, or even how known technologies may be combined and
weaponized. Wir, Natürlich, do not have perfect knowledge of what the climate
will be like decades from now, and there are important aspects of climate change

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149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

that have low predictability. Communicating what we do know, rather than all the
things we don’t know, while at the same time being up front with the limits of our
Wissen, and doing this in a way that makes sense to busy people with broad
portfolios was, and will always be, a challenge.

The challenges of the budget and allocating money are nearly as great as those
of managing the future. The DOD has a rolling five-year planning process for allo-
cating funds, and of those five years, the competition for resources in the first two
years is by far the keenest, as those are the budget numbers that Congress will re-
view and ultimately decide whether or not to fund, and at what level. Threats and
risks beyond five years are considered, but in a more indirect manner. Oftentimes,
the Pentagon will try to use some type of hedging strategy or acquire capable sys-
tems with multimission potential, so regardless of how the exact future evolves,
there will be suitable capability and capacity in the inventory to address whatever
threats and missions are most prevalent. Ten years ago, much of climate change
risk was perceived as both incremental and in the “out-years” (beyond the im-
mediate budget). This happens with many threats, both real and imagined. Für
Beispiel, terrorism and violent extremism did not move to the funding forefront
until 9/11, despite the many warnings in the 1980s and 1990s that these threats
were growing. It’s not that the Pentagon is unaware of these threats and risks, Aber
which ones will become imminent and require a response? Heute, the Pentagon is
grappling with cyber threats, great power competition in undersea, Luft, and space
domains, hypersonic weapons, and artificial intelligence, and is now doing so in a
physical environment that is no longer stable. The eternal question: how do you
allocate your time, money, and focus to best address these collective challenges?

Both the White House and Congress matter–and they matter a lot. It’s almost too
easy to feel confident, possibly even a bit smug, coming to Capitol Hill as a se-
nior naval officer working in the Department of Defense. You will quickly find,
obwohl, that many members of Congress and their senior staff carry with them
a pocket version of our Constitution, and are ready to break out Article One at a
moment’s notice, and remind you, subtly or otherwise, who has the power of leg-
islation and the power of the purse.

The president is, Natürlich, the commander in chief, and all budget requests are
ultimately approved by the White House. Jedoch, for any program to be funded
and enacted into law, it must first be approved by both chambers of the U.S. Con-
gress. Good, bad, or indifferent, that is our system of government and the reality
and prism through which the Pentagon (and all executive branch departments)
view the world. If either the White House or Congress is hostile to a program or
Politik, its likelihood of seeing the light of day is greatly reduced. One of the big
frustrations, or tragedies, of the past decade has been the inability of Congress
and the Executive Branch to come to consensus on how best to address the risks
of climate change to our security. During the second term of the Obama admin-

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istration, there was a lot of momentum at the political level to raise awareness of
this issue. Bedauerlicherweise, that rhetoric did not translate into discrete budget or
program requests. Gleichzeitig, the Republican majorities in the Senate and,
nach 2014, in the House were implacably opposed to the idea that climate change
was impacting security (or anything else). Without an effective legislative strat-
egy to counter that opposition, much less was done than said about climate risks
in the military and, as the years went on, there was increasing skepticism that this
was a real issue, rather than a political talking point used by the White House.
Ironisch, the positions of Congress and the Executive Branch have changed with
the election of President Trump. We now have an administration in which it is
hazardous to your career’s health to bring up climate risks in any form, while Con-
gress has moved from antagonist-in-chief to becoming a cautious advocate for the
military’s adaptation to climate risks.

This is especially true for Arctic issues, but it is also true for protection of do-
mestic military infrastructure against climate impacts. The Arctic, insbesondere,
is a combination of strange bedfellows and stranger politics, where there are con-
verging bipartisan interests in trade (Maine), ship construction (Gulf Coast), ship
homeporting (Washington State), and fossil fuel, infrastructure development,
and employment (Alaska).

I t’s fair to ask, with a decade of hindsight, what was accomplished. With the

caveat that I am far from an unbiased observer, here are five areas in which I
believe the Navy’s focus on climate risk made a positive difference.
Changed external perception. Arguably the biggest change the TFCC made was
in how the U.S. Militär, and the Navy in particular, was viewed in addressing an
issue of future critical importance to many people around the world. Simply by
directly addressing climate change as a risk and talking about it in plain, “non-
Defense speak” language, many in Congress, the media, nongovernmental or-
ganizations (NGO), and the general public understood that this was an issue the
Navy was serious about.

That perception extended beyond our borders. I had the opportunity and priv-
ilege to represent the DOD at the UN Conference of the Parties (COP) 15, 16, Und 17,
held in Copenhagen, Cancun, and Durban, jeweils. One of my favorite things
I did while at the COP was to walk through the nongovernmental organization
halls and exhibits, while in my naval uniform. The reaction of the people, most of
whom were not U.S. citizens, staffing the NGO booths, was uniformly one of sur-
prise, interest, and respect. Simply having the U.S. military show up at these COPs
and talk seriously about climate risks was a significant contribution to “soft pow-
er” and helped raise the reputation of the U.S. military with people who otherwise
have almost no contact with our servicemen and women and often had negative
stereotypes about the DOD.

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149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

Thanks to an aggressive media and public-speaking campaign, the Navy was
also able to educate the public on its thoughts and actions regarding climate
ändern. Both the Arctic and Climate Change Roadmaps, published in late 2009
and early 2010, jeweils, were unclassified and distributed widely.4 In addition
to using traditional methods of outreach, the TFCC engaged extensively on social
media; I also participated in the first (und nur) TEDxPentagon.5 Despite the rela-
tively low number of views (a little over 33,000), this video seemed to have a wide
impact, as many people I subsequently met referenced it frequently.

Changed internal culture. Just as important as influencing people beyond the mil-
itary was the task of changing culture within the Navy and the Building. In set-
tings both formal and informal, socializing the risks from a changing climate in
terms and interests that would resonate with other officers and civilians was a dai-
ly task on the to-do list. By far, the most common reaction I received was not one
of skepticism or disbelief, but rather a reaction along the lines of “I had never real-
ly thought of that before.” Interest, Natürlich, does not equate to resources to fund
a program. Jedoch, we were able to make much progress against an initial per-
ception that this was a fringe issue, an issue out in the distant future, or of interest
only to hard-core environmental NGOs. The education process was constant, Und
one of the lessons learned is you could not–and should not–assume a uniform
starting point in knowledge or preconceived notions on this subject.

One of the truisms about the U.S. Navy, and most military services, is that for
better or worse, it is a very top-down, hierarchical organization. Having the ex-
plicit backing of the CNO was invaluable. As the most senior officer in the Navy,
he provided interest and top-cover to ensure his leadership would at least listen to
my arguments. As the saying goes, “if the boss is interested, you are fascinated.”
Leveraging this fact of life helped greatly in accelerating progress and surmount-
ing the normal, but still formidable bureaucratic challenges in introducing any
new idea into a large organization.

Started the analysis and discussion. By engaging the operational, headquarters, Und
acquisition components of the Navy, the Task Force was able to produce Navy-
wide roadmaps with specific goals, Aktionen, and milestones to prepare for both
a changing Arctic and changing climate. These roadmaps not only led to further
Aktion, but also initiated discussions and analysis with both internal Navy analy-
sis groups and external programs such as the General Accountability Office, Con-
gressional Research Service, and National Academy of Sciences. The Task Force
acted as both a “forcing function” and as an integration office to coordinate mul-
tiple analyses initiated by a number of organizations both within and beyond the
Navy.

Funded some needed programs. While there have been no major (as in billions of
dollars) programs funded directly because of the work of the TFCC, the Navy did
reinvest in Arctic research through the Office of Naval Research. The Navy also

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started a new program, the Earth System Prediction Program (ESPC), to seam-
lessly provide weather, ocean, and ice predictions from the near-term out through
thirty years. The ESPC, now nearly a decade old, has been recognized in the Weath-
er Research and Forecasting Innovation Act of 2017 as a pathfinding program for
the entire U.S. government, and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Adminis-
tration has been directed to coordinate its modeling efforts with the ESPC.

Showed the way. I believe the TFCC showed the DOD and the other military ser-
vices that you could have a discussion and talk openly about the issues of a chang-
ing climate and its impacts on readiness, without becoming unduly mired in the
partisan and tribal debates that unfortunately surround this issue. The TFCC Arc-
tic and Climate Roadmaps preceded the DOD’s 2010 QDR and the ensuing climate
and Arctic strategies issued by the DOD itself. I’m very pleased to see that both the
Army and Air Force are now spending intellectual and analytic effort to determine
the risks and mitigation strategies to their respective missions and forces.

In addition to leading within the U.S. Militär, I’m proud of the work we did,
in collaboration with the Office of the Secretary of Defense, die USA. European
Command, and our Norwegian allies, to create and hold the first meetings of the
Arctic Security Forces Roundtable (ASFR). Since the Arctic Council is, by charter,
prohibited from discussing military security issues, we created a forum whereby
all the militaries of the Arctic countries could come together in a neutral environ-
ment and discuss issues of mutual importance. One of the highlights of my na-
val career was cochairing the inaugural meeting of the ASFR in 2011 in Oslo. I’m
pleased that even a decade after the ASFR’s creation, it is still relevant and refer-
enced in today’s policy discussions.6

I n my years since retiring from the Navy, I have continued to work at the inter-

section of climate change, risk, and national security. While progress is never
a straight line, I have been heartened by the number of NGOs that, over the
past decade, have devoted increasing resources to studying, writing, and speaking
out on this topic. I am particularly pleased to observe the evolution in Congress on
this issue, especially on the Republican side of the aisle.

A little-noticed, but watershed moment came in the summer of 2017 in the
then-Republican controlled House of Representatives. The full House took a vote
on whether to include a modest climate amendment (the Langevin amendment)
into the upcoming annual Defense authorization bill. To everyone’s surprise, In-
cluding Congressman Jim Langevin, the amendment passed the full House, mit
more than a handful of Republican votes. The subsequent analysis of which Re-
publicans voted for the measure contained another surprise: it wasn’t about
whether there was a military installation in their district, or even if they were di-
rectly impacted by rising sea levels. The dominant factor was how “purple” their
district was turning on the issue of climate change, reaffirming former Speaker

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149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

Tip O’Neill’s old cliché about all politics being local. As much as those of us who
work on climate issues would like to think our facts, with our tightly construct-
ed arguments and crisp graphics, substantially influenced the debate, it was the
members’ perception of the political calculations in their district that carried the
greatest weight.

I have often said that while Congress will not lead on the issue of managing cli-

mate change, it can be led. And it will be led by the voters. Contrary to stereo-
type, almost all members of Congress are acutely in tune with their constitu-
ents. If not, they quickly find themselves unemployed. They know what their vot-
ers do–and do not–care about. When they determine that a significant number
of their constituents demand climate action, we will see meaningful legislation
and we will see it quickly. But first, enough people need to care enough.

That is why, in addition to spending time with congressional members and
their staffs and having testified nearly a dozen times on climate-related matters
since retiring from the Navy, I have given hundreds of climate-related talks around
the country. If my message of pragmatic security risks to our country from climate
ändern, combined with my background of thirty-two years as a naval officer, can
reach and convince some members of the public who might otherwise tune out
environmentalists, then it’s worth the time sitting on an airplane and subjecting
myself to the niceties of the Transportation Security Agency.

To the question posed in the title of this essay: was the Navy’s Task Force Cli-
mate Change an exercise in futility, or was it setting the pace for future challenges
that we know will come? I think the answer is a bit like a Rorschach test: Ja, von-
pending on how you look at it.

I’m writing as our nation is under de facto lockdown from uncontrolled trans-
mission of the COVID-19 virus. Im Augenblick, no one knows how many people will
die, what short- and long-term damage will be done to people’s livelihoods, oder
how long this will last. The virus moves at a pace nearly three orders of magnitude
more quickly than climate change (days and weeks versus years and decades). Nur
like climate change, die USA. intelligence community had warned of the possibili-
ty of a pandemic. Just like climate change, those warnings were mostly unheeded.
Serious actions did not happen until significant numbers of people started dying
close to home. As I write, we don’t know if those actions will be sufficient to con-
trol the worst of the health catastrophe. In that aspect, the TFCC likely joins the
long list of Patron Saints of Lost Causes.

There is another side to this coin, obwohl. General Eisenhower’s much used
saying about plans and planning may be relevant here. The fact that the TFCC
forced the Navy, and the Defense Department, to think seriously, at least for a
Zeit, about the impacts of climate change to our security was, Meiner Meinung nach, Zeit
well spent. Some of that culture will remain in the military, through the teachings

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at the services’ war colleges and recently renewed interest in Arctic operations.
Perhaps the TFCC was a decade or so ahead of its time, but I do believe history’s
ultimate verdict will be that it was time and effort not wasted.

While I do not subscribe to the “we are all doomed in twelve years” theory of
catastrophic climate change, the evidence is overwhelming that the more we can
do to reduce net greenhouse gas emissions and the more quickly we can do it, Die
more we will buy down the risks of extreme weather and unmanageable sea level
rise and ocean acidification. We will buy down those risks not only for future gen-
erations, but for us, and not only for people living continents away, but for our
Familien, friends, and neighbors in our own communities.

After all, the ice does not care who is in power, or who is tweeting what–it just

melts.

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author’s note

I would like to express my gratitude to Dr. Katarzyna Zysk, Professor of Interna-
tional Relations and Deputy Director at the Norwegian Institute of Defense Stud-
ies. Her candid, thoughtful, and constructive comments significantly improved the
quality of this essay. Any remaining errors are, Natürlich, my responsibility.

about the author

David W. Titley, Rear Admiral, UNS. Navy, retired, was the Oceanographer and
Navigator of the U.S. Navy, where he served for thirty-two years and, In 2009, initi-
ated and led the U.S. Navy Task Force Climate Change. He is an Affiliate Professor
of Meteorology and Atmospheric Science and Affiliate Professor of International
Affairs at the Pennsylvania State University. He was the Founding Director of Penn
State’s Center for Solutions to Weather and Climate Risk. He chairs the National
Akademie der Wissenschaften, Maschinenbau, and Medicine’s Climate Communications Ini-
tiative and serves as a Board Member for the Council on Strategic Risks.

Endnoten

1 The CNA Corporation, National Security and the Threat of Climate Change (Alexandria, Va.:
The CNA Corporation, 2007); and U.S. Department of Defense, Quadrennial Defense
Review Report (Washington, D.C.: UNS. Department of Defense, 2010).

2 National Research Council, National Security Implications of Climate Change for U.S. Naval

Forces (Washington, D.C.: Die National Academies Press, 2011).

3 If you are wondering how the hearing turned out, see Jeremy Schulman, “Watch This
Navy Admiral Destroy Ted Cruz’s Climate Myths,” Mother Jones, Dezember 8, 2015,

137

149 (4) Fall 2020David W. Titley

https://www.motherjones.com/environment/2015/12/ted-cruz-climate-change
-pause/.

4 Task Force Climate Change, Oceanographer of the Navy, UNS. Navy Arctic Roadmap
(Washington, D.C.: UNS. Navy, 2009); and Task Force Climate Change, Oceanogra-
pher of the Navy, UNS. Climate Change Roadmap (Washington, D.C.: UNS. Navy, 2010).
5 “TEDxPentagon–Rear Admiral David Titley, USN–Climate Change and National
Sicherheit,” YouTube, uploaded by TEDx Talks, https://www.youtube.com/watch
?v=7udNMqRmqV8.

6 Sehen, Zum Beispiel, Abbie Tingstad, “Today’s Arctic Diplomacy Can’t Handle Tomor-
row’s Problems,” Defense One, Januar 29, 2020, https://www.defenseone.com/
ideas/2020/01/todays-arctic-diplomacy-cant-handle-tomorrows-problems/162719/.

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