Carol’s Column

Examining the inexact science of weather forecasting

Weather forecasting is an exact empirical science which relies on observation and experiment, not theory, J Tungsten Hoover says.

J Tungsten Hoover is an American meteorologist whose life's mission is to analyse the heavens, the movements of clouds, winds, rain droplets and snow blizzards and then make predictions about the weather.

Lately, as you might have noticed, J Tungsten Hoover and his mates on the local scene have been getting it horribly wrong.

I'd always been taught that meteorologists were heavily scientific folk. In other words, they processed certain information upon which they based their forecasts.

So what's gone wrong? Why is it that more often than not, when we are told it's going to be a perfect summer day, it's icy cold, toes and noses freeze and upstairs, heaven cracks apart and releases sheets of fat rain?

So disparate have been recent forecasts, that I put through a call to J Tungsten Hoover in Atlanta, USA to find out what we might expect weatherwise in Africa.

"Oh, you're phoning from Africa, that's a mighty long way away," he drawled across the Atlantic. A peremptive man. "Strange things happening there," he added.

"You're right," I replied with feeling. "South Africa's up in arms because we haven't had summer. We used to be a hot country. In the old days, three years ago, we'd wake up, open the curtains and sunbathe out of the window. It would be so steamy that we'd have to put ice cubes into our freshly squeezed orange before we drank it."

"Fascinating," I heard J Tungsten Hoover mutter in Atlanta.

"Now, you open the curtains, the sky's grey, it's raining and it's bloody cold. The whole country's getting morose. If we didn't know better, we'd think we were in England, or worse, Moscow."

"How do you take your orange juice?" asked J Tungsten Hoover.

"Huh?" What is he on about, I thought.

"Orange juice? Do you take it minus ice cubes?" J Tungsten Hoover persisted.

"No, we heat it up and drink it warm," I growled.

Actually, orange juice aside, J Tungsten Hoover was extremely helpful.

In words of six syllables, he explained exactly how meteorologists forecast the weather.

It was, he said, a data-gathering experience with an objective. Various data would be collected and then, from the uncertainties of data gathered, experts would extrapolate and carry a trend line forwards.

"You see," he said, "it's all about research. In weather, one has certainties and uncertainties and the purpose of science is to reach a hypothesis. To prove that hypothesis, it should be disproved. And, if one is able to disprove it, you can safely assume it is proved."

Simple really.

J Tungsten Hoover's explanation has given me a new look at weather reports. Now that I know it's an empirical science, I totally disregard all forecasts on TV, radio and in newspapers.

Instead, when I wake up, I stick my head outside, scent the air and go out to inspect the ants.

For I have discovered that ants are the ultimate weather forecasters. If they are moving at a leisurely pace, the day will be hot, sunny and languid. If they are marching determinedly, it will be fine, with the chance of showers.

But, if the ants are galloping along at a hang of a lick, the weather's going to turn and it will be foul, cold, wet and miserable.

Finally, sprinting ants mean snow.

You may be sceptical; the speed of a mobile ant is probably not classified as an empirical scientific observation. On the other hand, unlike weather forecasting, it works.

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