My daughter recently came home with an end-of-year school assignment touching on the dangers of climate change.

As a responsible father committed to evidence-based education, I immediately encouraged her to trust the experts. The sort of experts who don't merely warn of rising temperatures or changing weather patterns, but confidently explain - while looking directly into a television camera - that humanity itself is obviously on the brink of extinction. Experts like "expert" climate scientist and former University of Arizona professor Guy McPherson.

After all, if we're going to teach kids about climate change, why settle for mild concern when we can go straight to total species annihilation? Here's McPherson warning of that very thing … ten years ago, in 2016:

That exchange itself deserves preservation in a museum.

Interviewer: 'No, I'm sorry. Did you say ten years?'

McPherson: 'Yes, yes, in my out loud voice, even.'

That level of confidence alone deserves a footnote. Given that McPherson told us 10 years ago that we had 10 years, I suggested to my daughter that she really commit to the assignment. Open with something dramatic:

"As humanity nears its final months of existence, it is important we recognize the urgency of climate change. By the time this paper is graded, my classmates, teacher, and possibly organized civilization itself may no longer exist."

Full marks for urgency, right?

I also suggested she avoid revealing immediately that this prophecy came in 2016. Let the suspense build. Somewhere around page three, casually inform the reader:

"The scientist quoted above predicted humanity would likely be extinct by 2026, meaning everyone currently reading this report is likely in their final days, if not hours."

Frankly, I think that demonstrates both scientific literacy and narrative pacing.

Before anyone gets upset, let me say that I fully support listening to experts — especially since these climatologists are totally not incentivized whatsoever to generate panic.

(I hope my sarcasm is clear.)

After all, it's not like panic brings attention, which brings interviews, which bring prestige. And that prestige surely doesn't bring speaking invitations, influence, followers, television appearances, book deals, research funding, and the enviable professional status of being introduced at conferences as, "the scientist who warned humanity about collapse."

No, predicting total societal collapse and human extinction doesn't suddenly cause microphones to appear, producers to call, articles to get written, and everyone to nod solemnly while asking what fresh catastrophe we should fear next.

Right?

The best part for these prophets of doom? When their doomsday timeline quietly expires, we all pretend it never happened.

No apology. No embarrassment. No career implosion. No awkward follow-up interview in which someone asks, "Hey, quick question - weren't we all supposed to be dead by now?"

Instead, civilization inconveniently keeps existing while the climate alarmists simply revise the countdown clock and continue warning us that the real emergency is our failure to panic hard enough.

So yes, I encouraged my daughter to cite Professor McPherson. Whether she does so, and whether she includes the minor detail that his prediction expired this year is, of course, entirely up to her.

Though, according to the "experts," if we trust the "science," none of us will be alive to argue about the grade anyway.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Not the Bee or any of its affiliates.