In the seminal post apocalyptic novel A Canticle for Leobowitz remaining mobs seize and kill scientists and intellectuals of all kinds after a nuclear apocalypse, blaming them for building the weapons that brought the world low.
Well here is a mob, not acting directly and somewhat rationally for a crime clearly committed; but acting indirectly through a democracy against scientists for the crime of delivering bad news at all. We've killed each other enough that the days of direct holocaust and mobs are mostly gone outside an isolated incident or two, evolved out of the deluded direct mob. Instead the mob in question just burn the metaphorical books; and some even claim it's not their fault, they wouldn't have voted for the leader of the mob just months later, they voted for the mob for other reasons, somewhere, somehow others are to blame, not them.
What a sadly anticlimactic little pith of nothing this example of humanity marches towards its doom as. Collectively we've the power to bring forth great dramas and amazing twists for our imagined dooms, and yet in this real world example of demise humanity punishes those who warn caution as it stands on the shore as the acid seas reach achingly slowly to swallow them whole.