@Ionus,
Io --I once suggested, during a cold snap lasting long enough to prove to anybody's satisfaction that our Divine Designer was a double-dyed bastard with sadistic inclinations, as is befitting to our species, that we all ought to leave our engines running all night in the garage and nobody be allowed to turn them off in the car parks.
I even described how we, to do our bit as a non-motoring outfit, set fire to a bowser of diesel which we have pumped into a pit in the top meadow once a year.
They came back with some charts which I couldn't make moss nor sand of. I'd be surprised if they could.
It's a Bossy Boots party as you have so accurately divined. I divined it years ago when the "clean petrol" stuff got started and the snooty-boots types paid the extra so they could parade themselves as morally superior persons to us heaving and swaying masses. Lead came in and then CO2 and now "being a green person" is so morally superior that it has a right to tell everybody what to do and what to be ashamed of. It's a new type of clergy. Puritans, having given up on sex, are started on lesser forms of fun.
It must be, in the last analysis, due to a lack of a proper sense of humour.
And who is to say whether laughing at it is a worse method of saving the old rolling ball from it's inner contradictions than is taking it seriously.
Motorist are quite funny I find. They are a bit like babies in a pram. One who is being wheeled to the clinic for an injection, for example. The motorist is in coasting mode. In neutral. And both motorist and baby are provided with a range of distractions to help them pass this seemingly endless time. Most of the motorist's distraction kit is hi-tech, although not all of it, sugar lumps say, but that makes no difference to the case, and it is a case.
So the motorist is funny. If enough people laughed at them a lot they might become a bit furtive in their activities.
And you can bet that all the Bossy-Boots party members are motorists. And live in spacious accomodation at a respectable distance from their work station. And some of them never give a thought to our revolving rock when they drive into town to have the hem of their skirt taken up professionally.
So they are funny too. In fact Io, they are hilarious. I can reduce a greenie to tears in ten minutes. Just by laughing. And shaking my head from side to side with ironic pity.