Climate Science Purged: GOP AGs Score Major Win Against Judicial Bias

Paul Riverbank, 2/10/2026Judiciary purges climate science guide—sparking a courtroom battle over evidence, bias, and public cost.

Federal Judge Robin Rosenberg, overseeing the Federal Judicial Center, notified West Virginia Attorney General JB McCuskey with a sparse letter: “In response to your letter dated January 29, 2026, I write to inform you that the Federal Judicial Center has omitted the climate science chapter from the Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence, Fourth Edition (RMSE).” The timing—just days after McCuskey and Nebraska’s Attorney General Mike Hilgers pressed the House Judiciary Committee to scrutinize possible advocacy in the manual—wasn’t lost on anyone paying close attention.

Their beef? That the manual leaned too heavily on the work of recognizable climate science figures like Michael Mann and Jessica Wentz. In some corners, this was seen less as an educational overview and more as tilting the courtroom scales in environmental lawsuits. “We have just received notice that, because of our efforts, the chapter is being removed,” McCuskey celebrated, billing this as a victory for legal fairness and stating that it’s “a win for impartiality in our judiciary and for the people of West Virginia.” Hilgers echoed the sentiment, calling it “a huge win” and highlighting the coalition of Republican attorneys general who pushed for the change.

The reactions didn’t stop there. Judicial Watch president Tom Fitton described the previous chapter as outright “political pamphleteering for the climate scam,” and urged a transparent review into its inclusion in the first place. But while these criticisms are headline-worthy, there’s a quieter, more tangled reality underneath. Legal manuals may seem dry and technical, yet what they say—or don’t say—can ripple through thousands of cases, notably where climate science lands close to the heart of lawsuits over emissions, power plants, and public health codes.

This chapter’s removal comes against a larger, rumbling backdrop: The Trump administration is moving to roll back an Obama-era finding that underpins federal greenhouse gas limits. These are not just theoretical tweaks for policy wonks; cities and taxpayers stand to feel the fallout. A Canadian Climate Institute report drove this home recently, warning that the bill for patching up old roads, bridges, and water pipes battered by more extreme weather is mounting by the year. “Taxpayers will pay a steep and growing price if governments delay or fail to adapt,” the authors cautioned. The data: $10 billion in potential annual savings if governments strengthen infrastructure starting now—though even that may not cover all the coming costs.

Zoom out and it’s clear that climate science isn’t just battled out in the halls of Congress or the glare of cable news. The real grind happens in courtrooms, city planning meetings, budget offices. So, while a chapter in a legal reference book might seem trivial, the choices about what evidence judges see—and what gets omitted—will shape decisions that touch on where people live, how much they pay, and the security of things as ordinary as a daily commute to work.

Perhaps the real question isn’t whether the manual was biased, but what the gap means as cases pile up. When the facts themselves are embattled, and the players are tugging the rope in opposite directions, no manual can ever really claim to be neutral. It’s worth asking: who, exactly, gets to define scientific ‘impartiality’ when the stakes are measured in dollars, regulations, and ultimately, the ways communities adapt to a changing climate? As the dust settles on this particular editorial dispute, it’s clear the downstream effects are just getting started.

The quiet scrapping of a handful of pages—barely a blip in the sea of more than fifteen hundred—has kicked up a surprisingly fierce storm in Washington legal circles. It’s not often that what goes into (or gets yanked out of) the Federal Judicial Center’s Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence would draw national attention. Yet, that’s exactly what happened after the Center removed its chapter on climate science, barely a week after some pointed coverage on Fox News Digital.Federal Judge Robin Rosenberg, overseeing the Federal Judicial Center, notified West Virginia Attorney General JB McCuskey with a sparse letter: “In response to your letter dated January 29, 2026, I write to inform you that the Federal Judicial Center has omitted the climate science chapter from the Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence, Fourth Edition (RMSE).” The timing—just days after McCuskey and Nebraska’s Attorney General Mike Hilgers pressed the House Judiciary Committee to scrutinize possible advocacy in the manual—wasn’t lost on anyone paying close attention.Their beef? That the manual leaned too heavily on the work of recognizable climate science figures like Michael Mann and Jessica Wentz. In some corners, this was seen less as an educational overview and more as tilting the courtroom scales in environmental lawsuits. “We have just received notice that, because of our efforts, the chapter is being removed,” McCuskey celebrated, billing this as a victory for legal fairness and stating that it’s “a win for impartiality in our judiciary and for the people of West Virginia.” Hilgers echoed the sentiment, calling it “a huge win” and highlighting the coalition of Republican attorneys general who pushed for the change.The reactions didn’t stop there. Judicial Watch president Tom Fitton described the previous chapter as outright “political pamphleteering for the climate scam,” and urged a transparent review into its inclusion in the first place. But while these criticisms are headline-worthy, there’s a quieter, more tangled reality underneath. Legal manuals may seem dry and technical, yet what they say—or don’t say—can ripple through thousands of cases, notably where climate science lands close to the heart of lawsuits over emissions, power plants, and public health codes.This chapter’s removal comes against a larger, rumbling backdrop: The Trump administration is moving to roll back an Obama-era finding that underpins federal greenhouse gas limits. These are not just theoretical tweaks for policy wonks; cities and taxpayers stand to feel the fallout. A Canadian Climate Institute report drove this home recently, warning that the bill for patching up old roads, bridges, and water pipes battered by more extreme weather is mounting by the year. “Taxpayers will pay a steep and growing price if governments delay or fail to adapt,” the authors cautioned. The data: $10 billion in potential annual savings if governments strengthen infrastructure starting now—though even that may not cover all the coming costs.Zoom out and it’s clear that climate science isn’t just battled out in the halls of Congress or the glare of cable news. The real grind happens in courtrooms, city planning meetings, budget offices. So, while a chapter in a legal reference book might seem trivial, the choices about what evidence judges see—and what gets omitted—will shape decisions that touch on where people live, how much they pay, and the security of things as ordinary as a daily commute to work.Perhaps the real question isn’t whether the manual was biased, but what the gap means as cases pile up. When the facts themselves are embattled, and the players are tugging the rope in opposite directions, no manual can ever really claim to be neutral. It’s worth asking: who, exactly, gets to define scientific ‘impartiality’ when the stakes are measured in dollars, regulations, and ultimately, the ways communities adapt to a changing climate? As the dust settles on this particular editorial dispute, it’s clear the downstream effects are just getting started.