The number of meteorologists in the United States is very small. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, less than 10,000 people are employed as atmospheric scientists in non-faculty positions (anecdotal evidence suggests that the number of people holding meteorology degrees is significantly higher. To wit: of the 12 people in my graduating class, four are meteorologists). With such a tiny fraction of the population trained in atmospheric science generally, and severe storm meteorology specifically, it should come as no surprise that the public knows relatively little about severe weather. With the small number of meteorologists, a heavy reliance is placed upon the media and local officials to convey information.
However, while the media and local officials may get more exposure to weather information, they do not necessarily understand it any better than the rest of the general public. This leads to newspapers reporting that a “local tornado warning was issued” (only the National Weather Service issues tornado warnings officially, and causing confusion about this does not help the public interest) after a “funnel cloud on the ground” was sighted (a “funnel cloud on the ground” is more properly known as a “tornado”, but in this case it was more likely a mere “scary-looking cloud”). It leads to emergency managers sounding warning sirens when the greatest threat is heavy rain and sub-severe winds. And it leads to confusion and eventual complacency for the public.
Meteorologists have enough trouble fighting complacency as it is. The most recent data from the National Weather Service indicates that 76% of tornado warnings are false alarms. This is not because of incompetent meteorologists. It is a limitation of available observation systems (radar), of the understanding of tornadogenesis, and of the (quite reasonable) belief that it’s better to overwarn than to miss a tornado. Additionally, since tornadoes are often relatively small and short-lived events, it may be that some of these false alarms are not so, but there are no reports thus the warning remains unverified. The upshot of all of this is that it’s very easy for the public to not take warnings seriously.
I can, perhaps, understand the reason the Tippecanoe County Emergency Management Agency (TEMA) decided to sound the sirens last Saturday. A street festival was about to begin in downtown Lafayette, and many people were moseying down Main Street. The wind and rain had already begun clearing the streets before the sirens sounded, and no one seemed to be in any additional hurry when they heard the beautiful wail. It can argued that the sirens were sounded appropriately in that case, but the public mindset is that the sirens are “tornado sirens”, so sounding them for non-tornadic events (especially events that posed such a dubious threat) does a disservice to the public because it increases complacency. In this specific case, the sirens added nothing helpful, and thus should have remained silent.
Were this an isolated incident, I would not have felt compelled to write this post, but TEMA during the Mark Kirby era has been quick to sound the sirens. In my circle of meteorological friends, there are two common consequences to rainfall: 1) the Indianapolis radar goes out of service, and 2) the tornado sirens are sounded in Tippecanoe County. If I’ve associated the sirens with rainfall, surely there are others in the county who have done so as well. So who benefits from sounding the sirens so much? No one.