There was a time, not so long ago, when the fate of the planet hinged on the stern glare of a Scandinavian teenager.

World leaders trembled. Journalists genuflected. Schoolchildren skipped algebra to chant in the streets. And at the center of this eco-theatrical hurricane stood Greta Thunberg, who, despite not yet being old enough to rent a car, was apparently qualified to repossess Western civilization.

She was the Left’s Joan of Arc, except instead of hearing voices she heard carbon emissions. Every time someone started a lawnmower, somewhere a cable news producer lit a candle in her honor. Politicians who could not balance a municipal budget suddenly discovered they could forecast global temperatures in the year 2087. And corporations, terrified of being labeled climate criminals, lined up to sponsor the apocalypse.

And then, almost imperceptibly at first, the roar quieted.

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