The Heat Myth: What the Data Actually Shows

A newly published paper in *Springer Nature’s journal Theoretical and Applied Climatology is raising uncomfortable questions for the dominant climate narrative.

The study—by climatologist John R. Christy—does something refreshingly simple: it looks at actual observed temperature extremes across the United States from 1899 to 2025.

No modelling.
No sweeping global averages.
Just raw, station-based data.

And the results? They contradict what we’re constantly told.

What the Study Actually Did

The paper (titled “Declines in hot and cold daily temperature extremes in the conterminous US”) analysed:

• Daily maximum temperatures in summer

• Daily minimum temperatures in winter

• Covering over a century of observations (1899–2025)

• Using real station data, not heavily adjusted or homogenised datasets (newswise.com)

In other words, this is about temperature extremes—the events people actually feel—not abstract averages.

The Key Finding: Extremes Were Worse in the Past

The headline result is striking:

• The most extreme heat events in the US occurred in the early 20th century, particularly the 1930s

• Both hot and cold extremes have generally declined over time

• The overall pattern shows a moderation, not escalation, of temperature extremes

Yes, you read that correctly.

According to this dataset, the United States experienced more intense temperature swings decades ago than it does today.

The 1930s: America’s Real Heat Crisis

If you want a period that truly tested the limits of heat in the United States, look no further than the Dust Bowl era.

That decade saw:

• Record-breaking heatwaves

• Widespread agricultural collapse

• Extreme drought conditions

And—crucially—these events still dominate many all-time temperature records today.

So Why Does the Narrative Feel So Different?

Here’s where things get interesting—and controversial.

The paper deliberately avoids heavy data “adjustments” and instead relies on observed station data. That matters because:

• Many global datasets use homogenisation techniques to adjust historical records

• Urbanisation can introduce heat biases over time (more concrete, less vegetation)

• Modern reporting focuses heavily on averages, not extremes

This study flips that focus and asks a simple question:

What do the raw extremes actually show?

And the answer is: less volatility, not more.

But Let’s Be Clear… This Isn’t the Whole Story

Before anyone jumps to conclusions, it’s important to keep perspective.

This paper:

• Focuses on the United States only, not global temperatures

• Examines extremes, not long-term average warming trends

• Uses a specific methodological approach that differs from many mainstream datasets

So while it contradicts claims about extreme temperatures and rising volatility, it doesn't overturn the entire narrative relating to climate change. Yet given these observations one must hold all extreme climate claims up to scrutiny.

Why This Matters

What this paper really exposes is something deeper:

A growing disconnect between:

• What people are told

• And what specific datasets actually show

Climate science is complex. But public messaging often isn’t.

And when a peer-reviewed paper suggests that the worst heat extremes occurred nearly a century ago, it raises a legitimate question:

Are we getting the full picture—or just the most convenient version of it?

The Bottom Line

The new study doesn’t deny climate change.

But it does challenge a commonly repeated claim:

That recent years represent an unprecedented explosion in extreme heat—at least in the United States.

According to this research, the truth is more nuanced:

• The past—especially the 1930s—was more extreme than many realise

• And today’s climate is more stable in terms of extremes than the headlines suggest

Which leaves us with a simple takeaway:

Before accepting sweeping claims about “unprecedented” conditions, it might be worth asking—unprecedented compared to what?

De-escalate, De-escalate: Australia's Dalek Diplomacy

There was a time—within living memory—when Australia knew exactly where it stood.

On matters of principle, we didn’t hedge. We didn’t mumble. We didn’t hide behind process.

We stood with the West.

We stood with the United States.

And we stood—consistently and unapologetically—with Israel, a fellow democracy in a region where democracy is in short supply.

At the United Nations, Australia had a reputation. While the chamber too often descended into ritualised condemnation of Israel—year after year, resolution after resolution—Australia was one of the few countries prepared to push back. Not blindly, but on principle. We recognised the difference between democracies defending themselves and regimes exporting terror.

That clarity is now gone.

The “De-Escalate” Doctrine

Listen to the Albanese Government—particularly Foreign Minister Penny Wong—and one word dominates every conflict:

“De-escalate.”

It’s repeated like a reflex. A script. A shield.

After the October 7 atrocities carried out by Hamas—an act of mass murder that shocked the world—the first instinct from Australia’s leadership wasn’t moral clarity. It wasn’t a firm declaration of support for a democratic ally under attack.

It was… de-escalation.

Even before Israel had responded.

Fast forward to the confrontation involving Iran—where the stakes are global, not regional—and the script hasn’t changed. The United States acts. Israel acts. And Australia?

“De-escalate.”

No leadership. No conviction. No sense of who is right and who is wrong.

Just a diplomatic shrug.

What Changed?

Australia didn’t suddenly lose its values.

It elected a government that no longer prioritises them in the same way.

For decades, the alliance with the United States wasn’t just strategic—it was instinctive. Australia didn’t wait to be asked. It didn’t equivocate. When moral clarity was required, we provided it.

That era looks increasingly distant.

So what changed?

The answer sits uncomfortably within the modern Australian Labor Party.

Earlier Labor governments—whatever their faults—were anchored by the party’s right faction. Leaders like Hawke and Keating understood power, alliances, and the realities of a dangerous world. They didn’t indulge in moral fog. They made calls.

Today’s Labor Party is different.

It is dominated by its left faction—more ideologically driven, more sceptical of Western power, and far less comfortable backing allies like the United States and Israel. In that worldview, drawing hard moral lines is seen as risky. Better to soften the language. Better to hedge. Better to say nothing of consequence.

Enter Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Foreign Minister Penny Wong.

Their now-familiar refrain—“de-escalate”—is not just a diplomatic talking point. It’s a reflection of their ambivalence. A government unsure of its footing internationally, constrained by its own ideological base, and increasingly unwilling to call out right from wrong when it matters most.

This isn’t balance.

It’s drift.

And in global politics, drift doesn’t read as neutrality—it reads as weakness.

Domestic Politics, Foreign Policy

There is an uncomfortable question sitting just beneath the surface:

Has domestic politics begun to dictate foreign policy?

Australia is a proudly multicultural country having accepted immigrants and refugees from around the world. That has long been one of its strengths.

However recent high levels of immigration from North Africa and the Middle East have imported large numbers with different political views. When voting blocs begin to shape international positioning—when leaders start calibrating moral language to avoid domestic backlash—something shifts.

Policy becomes cautious. Then diluted. Then unrecognisable.

We’ve seen versions of this play out in other Western democracies. In Canada. In the United Kingdom. Social tensions rise. Public discourse hardens. And foreign policy becomes a balancing act rather than a statement of principle.

Australia now appears to be heading down the same path.

The Cost of Saying Nothing

Let’s be clear: calling for “de-escalation” is not wrong in itself.

Of course we want less conflict. Of course we want fewer casualties.

But when that is all you say—when it replaces judgement rather than complements it—it becomes a problem.

Because silence, dressed up as neutrality, is still a position.

And in conflicts where one side is a democratic state responding to terrorism or aggression, and the other is not, refusing to draw distinctions isn’t diplomacy.

It’s abdication.

A Dangerous Drift

Foreign policy doesn’t exist in a vacuum.

It shapes how allies see us.

It shapes how adversaries judge us.

And increasingly, it shapes how we see ourselves.

If Australia becomes a country that won’t speak clearly in moments that demand clarity—won’t back allies when it counts—won’t defend the principles it once championed—then something fundamental has changed.

Not just in Canberra.

But in the national character.

Final Thought

For decades, Australia punched above its weight not through size or power, but through clarity and conviction.

I suspect that reputation is is already lost.

And once lost, it won’t be easily regained.

What if the Cure Isn’t Profitable?

There’s a fascinating—and deeply frustrating—video from Dr John Campbell making the rounds right now. It dives into emerging research on repurposed drugs—specifically ivermectin and mebendazole—and their potential role in cancer treatment.

Before anyone jumps to conclusions, let’s be clear: this is not settled science. But it is a signal. And it’s a signal that deserves attention.

What the Study Found

The video walks through a prospective observational study involving nearly 200 cancer patients using a combination of ivermectin and mebendazole.

The headline number?

• 84% clinical benefit rate — meaning patients experienced tumour regression, stability, or no evidence of disease.

That’s not trivial. Not even close.

Even more interesting:

• The treatment appeared to work across a wide range of cancers

• Side effects were mild and generally well tolerated

• Lower doses worked just as well as higher ones

• The drugs are cheap—very cheap

We’re not talking about cutting-edge, billion-dollar biotech here. These are long-established, generic medications.

Why This Matters

Here’s where things get uncomfortable.

Traditional cancer treatments can cost upwards of $100,000 per year.

By contrast, this protocol—if proven effective—could cost a fraction of that.

So the obvious question is:

Why aren’t we seeing large-scale, gold-standard clinical trials?

The Repurposing Problem

This isn’t new. It’s the dirty little secret of modern medicine.

Repurposing existing drugs—especially generics—faces a brutal reality:

• No patent = no profit

• No profit = no incentive

• No incentive = no large trials

Pharmaceutical companies fund most large randomised controlled trials. That’s not a criticism—it’s just the system we’ve built.

But that system has a blind spot.

If a drug is:

• cheap

• widely available

• off-patent

…then there is no financial upside in proving it works for a new indication.

So the studies don’t get done.

Not because the idea is wrong.
Not because the science is impossible.

But because the business model doesn’t support it.

A Signal, Not a Conclusion

To be fair—and this matters—the study discussed is:

• observational

• partly based on self-reported outcomes

• not randomised or controlled

Even the authors say this is hypothesis-generating, not definitive.

In other words:
“This looks promising. Now we need proper trials.”

And that’s exactly the point.

So Who Should Step In?

If the private sector won’t fund it, the obvious candidates are:

• Governments

• Universities

• Independent research bodies

Because if even a fraction of this holds up under rigorous testing, we are talking about:

• cheaper treatments

• wider global access

• potentially better outcomes

Especially in parts of the world where $100,000 therapies are simply not an option.

The Bigger Question

This isn’t really about ivermectin or mebendazole.

It’s about a system that is incredibly good at developing profitable drugs…
…but not nearly as good at exploring unprofitable ones.

And that should concern all of us.

Because the question isn’t:

“Do these drugs work?”

The real question is:

“Are we even willing to find out?”

Watch the Full Video

If you want to hear the full breakdown and judge for yourself, watch the video here:

Weekly Roundup - Top Articles and Commentary from Week 17 of 2026

 

Here are links to some selected articles of interest and our posts from this week.

• The RFK Panic vs The Reality of Results
  
• The Welfare State: Compassion or Quiet Damage
  
• Are Europe's Leaders Undermining the West
  
• Trial by Media: The Troubling Optics Of The Roberts-Smith Case
  
• Another AI video featuring Trump singing a spoof on "Bohemian Rhapsody" 
• What If The Cure Is Not Profitable?
  
• De-escalate, De-escalate: Australia's Dalek Diplomacy
  
• Must see fantastic achievement in humanoid robotics, or,  more likely, in realistic AI video creation.

• The Heat Myth:What The Data Actually Shows
  

We welcome all feedback; please feel free to submit your comments or contact me via email at grappysb@gmail.com or on X at @grappysb

Trial by Media? The Troubling Optics of the Roberts-Smith Arrest

Seventeen Years Later… Why Now?

Seventeen years.

That’s how long after the alleged events in Afghanistan it has taken to bring criminal charges against Ben Roberts-Smith—Australia’s most decorated living soldier.

Seventeen years in which:

• Memories fade

• Evidence degrades

• Witnesses disappear or become inaccessible

• And Afghanistan itself has fallen back into the hands of the very forces we were fighting

At some point, justice delayed risks becoming justice distorted.

Even supporters of the prosecution must confront a basic question:
If the case was strong, why did it take nearly two decades?

From Hero to Villain—Which Was the Mistake?

Australia awarded Roberts-Smith the Victoria Cross—the nation’s highest military honour.

That’s not handed out lightly.

So which is it?

• Did the nation get it wrong then?

• Or is it getting it wrong now?

You can’t have it both ways.

Either due diligence failed when the medal was awarded—or the system is now retroactively rewriting history.

The Arrest: Justice or Theatre?

The way the arrest was carried out raises serious concerns.

A public airport arrest.
Filmed.
Media tipped off—particularly outlets that had pursued the story for years.

This wasn’t a quiet legal process. It looked like a production.

And that matters, because:

• It risks prejudicing a jury pool

• It creates a narrative before a trial begins

• It shifts the perception from “accused” to “guilty in the public eye”

Justice should be blind—not broadcast.

Why Sydney? Choosing the Jury

Another uncomfortable question: why was the arrest made in Sydney?

Not Perth, where the alleged events relate.
Not Brisbane, where Roberts-Smith has lived.

Sydney.

There are suggestions this was about accessing a “broader” or more favourable jury pool.

If true, that’s not justice.
That’s strategy.

And it cuts to the heart of public confidence in the system.

Civilian Courts Judging War

Here’s the deeper issue.

War is not a courtroom.

In Afghanistan, soldiers operated in:

• Split-second decision environments

• Situations where friend and foe were indistinguishable

• Conditions where hesitation could mean death

Yet now, years later, civilians—far removed from that reality—are asked to judge those decisions.

Even allies like the United States generally try their military within military systems, recognising the unique context of combat.

Australia, through international commitments, has moved toward civilian prosecution.

But the question remains:

Can civilian standards truly account for the chaos and ambiguity of war?

Commanders Walk Free—Soldiers Face Trial

Another troubling imbalance.

Investigations following the Afghanistan campaign have largely focused on rank-and-file soldiers—while senior command has avoided accountability.

That raises a fundamental fairness issue:

• Who sets the rules of engagement?

• Who oversees operations?

• Who bears ultimate responsibility?

If failures occurred, they were not created at the corporal level alone.

The Evidence Problem

This case faces extraordinary hurdles:

• No bodies

• No forensic evidence

• Conflicting testimony

• National security constraints limiting what can be disclosed in open court

And yet the burden is beyond reasonable doubt.

That’s not commentary—it’s reality.

The Bigger Question

Let’s be clear.

If crimes were committed, they should be prosecuted.

A moral military matters.

But so does fairness.

So does context.

And so does the message we send to those we ask to fight on our behalf.

We train them to:

• Close with the enemy

• Make life-and-death decisions instantly

• Operate in moral grey zones

Then, years later, we judge those decisions in black-and-white terms.

Final Thought

This case is now before the courts.

It will run its course.

But one question will linger long after the verdict:

Have we pursued justice… or created a precedent that will make future soldiers hesitate when it matters most?

Because in war, hesitation isn’t just a legal issue.

It can be fatal.

___________________________________________________________________________________

This post draws on a recent (paywalled) column by Peta Credlin in The Australian:

“Should Ben Roberts-Smith case ever have been brought?”
(You can find it here: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/commentary/should-ben-robertssmith-case-ever-have-been-brought/news-story/ef796b10ecba054bc09e779de9…)