| | 15/08/2024 As extreme heat gets worse, it’s the vulnerable who suffer most |
|
|
| | | The heat rising off the searing sidewalks pierced through my sneakers as I knelt to speak to Jacob, a man living in a concrete drainage channel tucked behind an apartment building in Las Vegas, Nevada. I was on assignment to cover a brutal heatwave that pushed Sin City to a deadly simmer, and I hit the shadeless streets – hot enough to cause second-degree burns in seconds – to hear from those most affected by the dangerous conditions. “I don’t remember the sun being so stinging hot,” he said slowly, shielding his eyes from the midday light sharply reflecting across the concrete cityscape. I agreed. This June was the city’s hottest on record. In July, things got even worse with a record seven days at 115F (46C) or higher and the month set a new all-time high of 120F (49C). Nights offered little reprieve. Even after the sun had set while I was there in mid-July, temperatures refused to dip below 100F (37C). As the Guardian’s extreme weather correspondent, it’s my job to report from the frontlines of disasters, telling stories that expose the climate crisis as it unfolds. The intensity, frequency and scale of these events are increasing, leaving the most vulnerable to disproportionately bear the brunt. As our world warms, we march into uncharted territory. It’s already been a busy summer. More, after this week’s climate headlines. |
|
|
| In focus | | Credit: Daniel Jacobi II/AP Last month, the Earth experienced its hottest July on record, adding to a grim streak of 14 consecutive months of record-high monthly global temperatures. Baked landscapes primed to burn helped fuel destructive wildfires that raged through more than 5.2m acres (2.1m hectares) across the US – roughly a million more than the 10-year average – as resources to fight them run thin. Hurricanes have unleashed furious winds and cascades of water, in a season officials said is one of the busiest on record. It’s not just in the US, either – similar patterns are unfolding in Europe and across the world. I plan my work with each season of risk, knowing catastrophes can compound and build on one another. The torrential rains of last winter seeded ground across the American west with grass and brush that turned to tinder and fed fires as the weather warmed. Charred and barren hillsides, robbed of the roots that help hold them together when flames swept over them, are more apt to crumble when the rains return, creating risks of debris flows and mudslides. Heat is at the centre of these catastrophes, but it also packs a punch all on its own. Broiling temperatures contribute to more deaths than any other weather-related disaster. These dangers were on full display during my trip to the south-west last month, especially in Las Vegas where a rising toll of heat-related deaths spiked by nearly 80% between 2022 and 2023. Officials recorded roughly 300 people who succumbed to the conditions, a number believed to be egregiously undercounted. Unhoused residents like Jacob or others who can’t escape inside are among those most at risk. Speaking to him and others about life under these conditions is the hardest part of my job. It’s also the most important. Awareness and focus are essential tools in our fight to stave off the harshest consequences of the climate crisis and we are determined to keep digging. While the science is clear that the effects of global heating will continue to ramp up, a lot can still be done to adapt and prepare as well as to support those who will be affected the most. The work of covering climate is often harrowing and laced with heartbreak. But by bringing readers closer to the issues, adding important context to help make sense of them, and providing a platform for progress, I am encouraged by the hope that a bad situation can be made better. Read more: | |
|
|
| The most important number of the climate crisis: | | 421.2 | | Atmospheric CO2 in parts per million, 13 July 2024 | | Source: NOAA |  |
|
 | Climate hero – Naomi Klein | Profiling an inspiring individual, suggested by Down to Earth readers | | The Canadian author is best known for No Logo and The Shock Doctrine, her books on the excesses of capitalism and neoliberalism. It’s another work, though, that sees Naomi Klein nominated as a climate hero: This Changes Everything, her 2014 book on how saving the climate is incompatible with the economic system we live in, was an instant bestseller. Klein, now a Guardian US columnist, was awarded a Sydney peace prize, and became the co-director of the University of British Columbia’s Centre for Climate Justice. Nominated by reader Sian Minor If you’d like to nominate a climate hero, email downtoearth@theguardian.com |
|
|
| Climate jargon – Greenwashing | Demystifying a climate concept you’ve heard in the headlines | | Practices – particularly in the world of marketing and advertising – used to convince consumers that a company is more environmentally friendly than it is. For more Guardian coverage of greenwashing, click here |
|
|
| Picture of the week | One image that sums up the week in environmental news | | Credit: Merryn Glover For this week’s Country diary column, Merryn Glover visited Glen Feshie in Cairngorms national park in the Scottish Highlands. On a bike ride, Glover found: “Glen Feshie is now home to steadily recovering populations of golden eagles, ospreys, pine martens, red squirrels and many more creatures. Rare insects breed in the gravel beds, trout flash their rainbow colours and Atlantic salmon spawn. “The crofters and shooting clients of previous centuries are giving way to walkers, birdwatchers and bikers like us, and, increasingly, swimmers. In a spot that locals call ‘the pony bridge’, the Feshie narrows through boulders into a deep, slow pool that is perfect for a summer dip.” Sounds worth a visit. For more of the week’s best environmental pictures, catch up on The Week in Wildlife here |
|
|
| A staple of dystopian science fictions is an inner sanctum of privilege and an outer world peopled by the desperate poor. The insiders, living off the exploited labour of the outlands, are indifferent to the horrors beyond their walls.
As environmental breakdown accelerates, the planet itself is being treated as the outer world. A rich core extracts wealth from the periphery, often with horrendous cruelty, while the insiders turn their eyes from the human and environmental costs. The periphery becomes a sacrifice zone. Those in the core shrink to their air-conditioned offices.
At the Guardian, we seek to break out of the core and the mindset it cultivates. Guardian journalists tell the stories the rest of the media scarcely touch: stories from the periphery, such as David Azevedo, who died as a result of working on a construction site during an extreme heat wave in France. Or the people living in forgotten, “redlined” parts of US cities that, without the trees and green spaces of more prosperous suburbs, suffer worst from the urban heat island effect.
Exposing the threat of the climate emergency – and the greed of those who enable it – is central to the Guardian’s mission. But this is a collective effort – and we need your help.
If you can afford to fund the Guardian’s reporting, as a one-off payment or from just £4 per month, it will help us to share the truth about the influence of the fossil fuel giants and those that do their bidding.
Among the duties of journalism is to break down the perceptual walls between core and periphery, inside and outside, to confront power with its impacts, however remote they may seem. This is what we strive to do. Thank you. | | |
| George Monbiot,
Guardian columnist |
|  |
|
|
|
|
