Hot Seat
Inhofe didn't disappoint. Before the hearings even began, his aides were flitting around the aisles, inundating reporters with fliers: An Inhofe op-ed that claimed, "[W]e are all skeptics now," and a pamphlet produced by the Competitive Enterprise Institute that called Gore's An Inconvenient Truth "One-Sided, Misleading, Exaggerated, Speculative, Wrong." (The latter came packed with footnotes full of disinformation.) As Barbara Boxer, the new chairman of the committee, announced the rules for the hearing, Inhofe immediately started in with the cavils, like a child whining about dinner. "You've got a great friend running this show," he huffed at Gore, complaining that his written testimony hadn't been turned in on time. "She's made all sorts of exceptions for you." Boxer glowered, informed Inhofe that he was being ridiculous, and then announced, "I am not going to tolerate interruptions!" If anyone was enjoying the end of the Inhofe regime, it was her.
That was just an aperitif. During the questioning period, Inhofe asked Gore about his own personal energy use--a fevered right-wing meme that, of course, has no actual bearing on climate-change policy. When Gore calmly tried to point out that his family purchases non-carbon green energy, Inhofe cut him off. Bad move. Boxer retorted, "How can you ask a question and not give him a minute to answer?" A short while later, after Inhofe brought up a recent New York Times hatchet job that criticized Gore's documentary (the piece has been dissected
here and
here), he declared that he didn't want to hear Gore's answer, since it would take too long. "You can submit it in writing," he added with a sneer. Boxer, like a mother losing her patience, barked, "Would you agree to let the vice president answer your questions?" When Inhofe sputtered in protest, Boxer waved her chairman's gavel in front of his face: "No, you're not making the rules. You used to when you had this. But elections have consequences!" The room erupted in cheers. A red-faced Inhofe slumped back in his chair. Bernie Sanders had his head in his hands, laughing hysterically.
Gore himself [..] was at his best when he stopped trying to inspire and started trying to explain. What he really wanted to discuss was science and policy--to wade in the muck. At one point, Kit Bond mentioned that global warming might be caused by sunspots rather than manmade greenhouse gases. (Bond actually had to mumble the question twice--presumably he had been handed some lines and had no idea what he was reading.) Gore, unfazed, explained patiently that Bond's theory was inconsistent with observed temperature changes in the troposphere and stratosphere. When Republican after Republican badgered Gore about nuclear power, he replied that nuclear could play a small role in replacing oil, but that building lots of "extra-large" plants was a risky bet in an uncertain energy market. The same innate nerdiness--that same desire to lecture and wonk out--that caused the former vice-president so much grief on the campaign trail had finally found a perfect outlet. [..]
But that didn't stop Gore from reaching out to Republicans and acting like an elder statesman, above politics. Despite Inhofe's antics, Gore invited the Oklahoman out to lunch to discuss climate change (Inhofe demurred). Much of his testimony, interestingly enough, appeared to be aimed at Senator John Warner, a Republican graybeard who commands a great deal of respect within his own party. Gore appealed to the armchair historian in Warner by invoking the battle of Thermopylae, couched environmental issues in military terms, and reminded Warner frequently of the work they had done together on national security issues. [..] The Virginia senator nodded gravely the entire time, and, when he finally spoke, said, "You have thrown down a very tough challenge, and I'm prepared to take some risks and fight for you and our chairman." [..]