It is that time of year again. You might know it as "winter." It is the season that comes after autumn and before spring. It happens every single year. The Earth tilts, the sun gets shy, and the temperature drops. For most of human history, and indeed for many people living in places like Norway or Russia, this is simply called "Tuesday." But in the United States of America, the arrival of snow and ice is treated with the same level of hysteria as an alien invasion or a zombie apocalypse.

According to the news, a "dangerous" winter storm is about to "slam" the country. Notice the language. Weather does not just happen in America; it attacks. It is violent. It is personal. The reports tell us this massive system stretches from the Plains all the way to New England. That is a lot of land. That is a lot of people. And judging by the reaction of the political class, it is a lot of opportunities to pretend to be useful.

Governors across the country are racing each other to the nearest microphone to declare a "State of Emergency." This is a fascinating ritual to observe from a distance. In a sane world, an emergency is something unexpected. An earthquake is an emergency. A meteor strike is an emergency. Winter happening in winter is not an emergency. It is the calendar. But these officials love to sign these papers. It makes them look busy. It makes them look like stern, caring parents protecting their children from the big, bad frost.

By declaring a State of Emergency before a single snowflake has actually touched the pavement, they are playing a clever game. If the storm is bad, they can say, "See? I warned you. I prepared you. I am a hero." If the storm turns out to be just a bit of slush and a cold breeze, they can say, "See? My quick action saved us all from disaster." It is a win-win situation for the politicians, and a lose-lose for the collective blood pressure of the population.

We hear warnings about "life-threatening cold." This is true, in a technical sense. If you stand naked in a field in January, nature will kill you. This has always been true. But America is supposed to be the wealthiest, most advanced nation on Earth. It is the land of innovation. Yet, every time the thermometer dips below freezing, the entire society acts as if they have never encountered the concept of a coat or a heater. The panic suggests a deep, underlying fear that their civilization is actually just a thin layer of paint over a crumbling wall.

Let us look at the preparation the officials are begging for. They tell residents to prepare before conditions worsen. What does this mean to the average American? It does not mean checking the insulation in the attic or making sure the pipes are wrapped. No, it means driving a massive car to a supermarket to buy twenty loaves of bread and ten gallons of milk. I have never understood this urge. When the power goes out—and it will go out, because the American power grid is apparently held together by chewing gum and wishful thinking—what are you going to do with all that milk? It will spoil. Are you planning to make French toast in the dark while freezing to death? It is a superstitious ritual. Buying things makes people feel like they are in control, even when they are helpless against the weather.

NBC News reports that this storm brings ice, snow, and cold. The trifecta of misery. The ice is the worst part, really. Snow is pretty; it looks nice on holiday cards. Ice is just nature’s way of saying it hates your power lines. And this is where the real comedy lies. We watch governors declare emergencies because they know, deep down, that the infrastructure cannot handle a stiff breeze, let alone a layer of ice. They know the roads will turn into skating rinks because the budget for salt trucks was probably spent on something useless, like another election campaign ad.

So, as the storm rolls from the Plains to New England, sit back and watch the theater. Watch the 24-hour news channels use red graphics and scary fonts. Watch the reporters stand outside in the wind, looking miserable, just to prove that it is, in fact, cold outside. Watch the politicians pretend they can legislate the weather. It is a grand performance of incompetence and fear, played out on a continental scale. The snow will fall, the ice will form, and the people will panic. Then it will melt, and everyone will forget about it until next year, when they will be just as surprised that winter has returned.