Climate Change: When the Truth Becomes Uncomfortable

 

I am Isabel Moreno Muñoz. Perhaps my face or voice sounds familiar. I present the weather on “Aquí la Tierra” on Spanish National Television (TVE), and every now and then, I pop up on a few shows on Radio Nacional de España (RNE). But most of my time isn’t spent on that, it’s dedicated to educating about climate change. That’s how serious this has become for me: I consider myself a storyteller. I speak about climate change in a deeply personal way, in almost any space where people are willing to listen: social media, national and international media, conferences, companies, courses... I'm “everywhere”, as one follower once told me — even “in the soup.”

However, even though I find it very fitting to put “Isabel Moreno, storyteller” on my business cards, I usually describe myself as a physicist, meteorologist, and communicator. Which, to be honest, is just a more serious — and more professional-sounding — way of saying the same thing.

Of course, it's true, I’m a physicist and a meteorologist. Don’t go thinking I only talk about this “because I’m cute”! It really gets to me when people judge me solely by my appearance or assume that someone smarter is writing the things I say. I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand why things happen, and in recent years, I’ve made it my mission to learn how to explain them as clearly as possible. That’s why I studied physics — it’s where I first came across the horror story that is the climate crisis. I decided to dedicate myself to understanding its complexities and learning how to explain them. That journey led me to pursue a Master’s in Meteorology and Geophysics at the Complutense University of Madrid (UCM), and I’ve continued to train in subjects related to the environment and science communication ever since.

Oh! And I’ve written two books: Climate Change for Beginners, which came out in 2022, and Atmosphere of Lies, published in 2025 — a book that ended up becoming deeply personal. Beyond exposing the tricks behind some of the half-truths and misinformation used to downplay or deny climate change, I ended up telling my own story. I’ll admit — that wasn’t the original plan. The book was supposed to be more like a manual, filled with scientific information. Something an AI could probably write without much trouble. But AI doesn’t have a story like mine. And as I was writing it, three things left a lasting mark on me: I was the target of a massive harassment campaign for speaking out about climate change, I became pregnant with my second child…and over 200 people lost their lives in what became the worst disaster Spain had faced in decades.

Online harassment targeting those of us who communicate about weather and climate is nothing new. For quite some time, we’ve been in the crosshairs of climate change deniers and people who believe that airplanes are manipulating the weather. But after the pandemic, both the number of messages and the level of aggression increased dramatically. In my case, it wasn’t just about reading dozens and dozens of anti-science messages…I also had to endure insults — often laced with extra misogyny, simply because I’m a woman — and threats. Some of them even death threats.

It felt unstoppable. Nothing — and no one — could or would put a stop to it. In fact, some platforms even seemed to feed that kind of interaction.

Many of us ended up stepping aside — with a deep sense of helplessness and sorrow. Why should we have to be afraid to talk about science?

The spread of misinformation and fake news carries serious risks. Even more so when it moves beyond casual posts on social media or offhand comments over drinks at a bar — and starts showing up in spaces where decisions are made that directly impact people’s lives.

It’s incredibly dangerous to manage the environment as if it were something separate from us — to underestimate it, or to undermine the credibility of those who specialize in it. How are we supposed to respond to an extreme weather event under those conditions? Extreme weather will continue to happen — of course it will — but what turns these events into true catastrophes is our response as a society. Especially the response from those in positions of power.

That’s exactly what turned the Valencia flood of October 29, 2024, into a major tragedy.

Almost a year later, I still can’t understand why the public wasn’t warned much earlier. Would there have been massive economic losses? Yes, of course. But many lives could have been saved.

That experience made me write with sadness — but above all, with anger and frustration. Those emotions are woven into the pages of the book, giving it a deeply personal tone.

The fact that both that tragedy and the wave of online harassment happened while I was pregnant with my second child made me stop and think — once again — about the kind of world I want my children to grow up in. And it’s certainly not one where we risk turning back centuries of progress by discrediting official institutions like the Spanish Meteorological Agency (AEMET), or by tearing down the scientific knowledge that has taken so much effort to build. That’s why I chose to keep speaking out — to keep sharing everything I know about my field. Yes, with fear. But always moving forward, and with hope that we can build the best possible future.

Note: This story was written by its protagonist.