Extreme Heat

Under a blazing sun on a treeless street, Abbas Abdul Karim, an experienced welder, labors over a metal bench, bending hot iron into stair railings. Everyone who lives in Basra, Iraq, deals with intense heat, but for Karim, it’s unrelenting.

“I feel it burning into my eyes,” he says.

Working outside in southern Iraq’s scalding summer temperatures isn’t just arduous. It can cause long-term damage to the body. By late morning, the air around Karim reaches a heat index—which measures heat and humidity combined—of 125°F. That puts him at high risk for heat stroke.

Under a blazing sun on a treeless street, Abbas Abdul Karim, an experienced welder, labors over a metal bench. He is bending hot iron into stair railings. Everyone who lives in Basra, Iraq, deals with intense heat. But for Karim, it’s unrelenting.

“I feel it burning into my eyes,” he says.

Working outside in southern Iraq’s scalding summer temperatures isn’t just arduous. It can cause long-term damage to the body. By late morning, the air around Karim reaches a heat index—which measures heat and humidity combined—of 125°F. It puts him at high risk for heat stroke.

At these temperatures, normal life is impossible. Work slows. Tempers flare. Power grids fail. Hospitals fill up.

But what Karim’s experiencing isn’t a heat wave. It’s just an average August day in Basra, a city on the leading edge of climate change. It’s also a glimpse of what may be in store for much of the planet as carbon emissions alter the climate.

At these temperatures, normal life is impossible. Work slows. Tempers flare. Power grids fail. Hospitals fill up.

But what Karim’s experiencing isn’t a heat wave. It’s just an average August day in Basra. The city is on the leading edge of climate change. It’s also a glimpse of what may happen to much of the planet as carbon emissions change the climate.

^{Source: The New York Times}

By 2050, nearly half the world may live in areas with dangerous levels of heat for at least one month a year, including Miami, Lagos, and Shanghai, according to projections by researchers at Harvard University and the University of Washington (see chart, below). How bad it gets will depend on how much action nations take to curb climate change. But experts say some of the effects of extreme heat are already inevitable, and they’ll place a huge burden on entire societies—their economies, health, and way of life.

The New York Times followed the daily activities of people in Basra and Kuwait City, tracking their exposure to heat and how it affected their lives. The results reveal the huge gap between those who have the means to protect themselves from the heat and those who don’t. But no one can escape the heat entirely.

By 2050, nearly half the world may live in areas with dangerous levels of heat for at least one month a year. These areas include Miami, Lagos, and Shanghai, according to projections by researchers at Harvard University and the University of Washington (see chart, below). How bad it gets will depend on how much action nations take to curb climate change. But experts say some of the effects of extreme heat are already inevitable. They will place a huge burden on entire societies including their economies, health, and way of life.

The New York Times followed the daily activities of people in Basra and Kuwait City. Their exposure to heat and how it affected their lives was tracked. The results reveal the huge gap between those who have the means to protect themselves from the heat and those who don’t. But no one can escape the heat entirely.

Basra, Iraq’s third-largest city, has always been hot. But in the past few decades, Persian Gulf countries have warmed almost twice as fast as the global average. Now the worst months of the summer are nearly unlivable.

One evening in August, a man rushes into the emergency room of a Basra hospital carrying his 8-year-old nephew, a diabetic who collapsed in the street while playing. The boy is barely conscious. The doctor suspects severe dehydration and diabetic shock.

The hospital is full of people suffering from heat-related ailments. Some have painful bites and stings from snakes and scorpions that have crawled into their houses to escape the heat. The heat disorients laborers, so work accidents are also common, including broken bones, cuts, and burns sustained from mishandling tools or falling from scaffolding.

Basra, Iraq’s third-largest city, has always been hot. But in the past few decades, Persian Gulf countries have warmed almost twice as fast as the global average. Now the worst months of the summer are nearly unlivable.

One evening in August, a man rushes into the emergency room of a Basra hospital. He is carrying his 8-year-old nephew, a diabetic who collapsed in the street while playing. The boy is barely conscious. The doctor suspects severe dehydration and diabetic shock.

The hospital is full of people suffering from heat-related ailments. Some have painful bites and stings from snakes and scorpions that have crawled into their houses to escape the heat. The heat disorients laborers. That makes work accidents more common. Injuries include broken bones, cuts, and burns sustained from mishandling tools or falling.

When Kadhim Fadhil Enad, a 25-year-old construction worker, leaves for work just after 4 a.m., the air outside is already a steam bath, so hot and humid that it feels like 114 degrees. He races to finish as much as possible before the sun comes up. At 9 a.m., he quits for the day.

Exhaustion shortens the workday, reducing productivity and chipping away at earnings. At a society-wide level, the heat means every project takes longer. And all those workers who rise before dawn suffer from constant sleep deprivation. The heat also wears on infrastructure, leading to power outages and contaminated water.

Kadhim Fadhil Enad, a 25-year-old construction worker leaves for work just after 4 a.m. The air outside is already a steam bath, so hot and humid that it feels like 114 degrees. He races to finish as much as possible before the sun comes up. At 9 a.m., he quits for the day.

At a society-wide level, the heat means every project takes longer. Exhaustion shortens the workday. It reduces productivity and decreases earnings. All of those workers who rise before dawn suffer from constant sleep deprivation. The heat also wears on infrastructure. It can lead to power outages and contaminated water.

It’s not just countries in the Gulf. Extreme heat is altering life around the globe, including in Pakistan, India, Tunisia, Mexico, central China, and elsewhere. And the more temperatures rise, the greater the economic toll. Already, the effects of extreme heat add up to hundreds of billions of dollars in lost work each year worldwide, according to research by the Atlantic Council, a Washington-based think tank.

To survive the heat, Basra residents try to adapt. Enad returns home around 9 a.m., exhausted and eager to rest in his family’s air-conditioned living room. But as he cools down, the women in his family begin the hottest part of their day.

In the kitchen, Enad’s mother cooks a giant pot of chicken and rice for a religious holiday. The room has neither air conditioning nor a fan, and she wears a traditional long black dress that keeps the heat in. The gas flame and the steam from the pot turn the kitchen into a sauna. The heat index is above 125 degrees, putting her at severe risk of heat stroke.

It’s not just countries in the Gulf. Extreme heat is altering life around the globe, including in Pakistan, India, Tunisia, Mexico, central China, and elsewhere. And the more temperatures rise, the greater the economic toll. Already, the effects of extreme heat add up to hundreds of billions of dollars in lost work each year worldwide, according to research by the Atlantic Council, a Washington-based think tank.

To survive the heat, Basra residents try to adapt. Enad returns home around 9 a.m. He is exhausted and eager to rest in his family’s air-conditioned living room. But as he cools down, the women in his family begin the hottest part of their day.

In the kitchen, Enad’s mother cooks a giant pot of chicken and rice for a religious holiday. The room has neither air conditioning nor a fan. She wears a traditional long black dress that keeps the heat in. The gas flame and the steam from the pot turn the kitchen into a sauna. The heat index is above 125 degrees, putting her at severe risk of heat stroke.

Eighty miles from Basra, in Kuwait City, the capital of Kuwait, Abdullah Husain leaves his apartment at 5:30 a.m. to walk his dogs. The sun has barely risen, but the day is already sweltering, and his clothes stick to his skin. In the summer, Husain says, he has to get the dogs out early, before the asphalt gets so hot that it will burn their paws.

“Everything after sunrise is hell,” he says.

Husain, 36, an assistant professor of environmental sciences at Kuwait University, lives a very different life from Enad in Basra. But both men’s days are shaped by heat.

Basra and Kuwait City usually have the same weather, with summer temperatures in the triple digits for weeks on end. But in other ways, they’re worlds apart.

Husain makes breakfast in an apartment cooled to 68 degrees. Enad’s mother toils in a kitchen nearly twice as hot. Husain teaches at an air-conditioned university. For Enad, the heat makes his job miserable, even working at night.

Eighty miles from Basra, in Kuwait City, the capital of Kuwait, Abdullah Husain leaves his apartment at 5:30 a.m. to walk his dogs. The sun has barely risen. The day is already sweltering, and his clothes stick to his skin. In the summer, Husain says, he has to get the dogs out early, before the asphalt gets so hot that it will burn their paws.

“Everything after sunrise is hell,” he says.

Husain, 36, is an assistant professor of environmental sciences at Kuwait University. He lives a very different life from Enad in Basra. But both men’s days are shaped by heat.

Basra and Kuwait City usually have the same weather. The summer temperatures are in the triple digits for weeks on end. But in other ways, they’re worlds apart.

Husain makes breakfast in an apartment cooled to 68 degrees. Enad’s mother toils in a kitchen nearly twice as hot. Husain teaches at an air-conditioned university. For Enad, the heat makes his job miserable, even working at night.

Kuwait’s tremendous oil wealth allows it to protect people from the heat—but those protections carry their own costs. When the heat hits, life moves indoors. People abandon parks. Empty soccer fields bake in the sun. Slides and swings get so hot that they can burn children’s legs. Most Kuwaitis never step outside for longer than it takes to walk to their air-conditioned cars.

That affects their health. Many Kuwaitis suffer from deficiencies of vitamin D, which the body uses sunlight to produce. Many are also overweight.

Husain says most Kuwaitis don’t think about the relationship between burning fossil fuels and the extreme heat.

Husain spent 13 years as a student in Oregon, and he thinks back on all the people spending time outside walking, fishing, and enjoying nature. He worries that by staying indoors to be more comfortable, Kuwaitis have lost touch with the natural world.

“No one really cares about what is outside their door,” he says.

While Kuwaitis with the means can insulate themselves from the heat, their lifestyle depends on a caste system of sorts. Low-paid foreign laborers from India, Bangladesh, Egypt, and elsewhere do the bulk of the work needed to keep society running. These include gardeners, construction workers, airport baggage handlers, repairmen, and trash collectors.

A bus monitor in Kuwait spends all day in a metal bus stop that roasts in the sun. He brings three frozen water bottles that he holds next to his body to try to keep cool. It doesn’t really work.

“I go home completely finished off,” he says.

Kuwait’s tremendous oil wealth allows it to protect people from the heat. But those protections carry their own costs. When the heat hits, life moves indoors. People abandon parks. Empty soccer fields bake in the sun. Slides and swings get so hot that they can burn children’s legs. Most Kuwaitis never step outside for longer than it takes to walk to their air-conditioned cars.

That affects their health. Many Kuwaitis suffer from deficiencies of vitamin D, which the body uses sunlight to produce. Many are also overweight.

Husain says most Kuwaitis don’t think about the relationship between burning fossil fuels and the extreme heat.

Husain spent 13 years as a student in Oregon. He thinks back on all the people spending time outside walking, fishing, and enjoying nature. He worries that by staying indoors to be more comfortable, Kuwaitis have lost touch with the natural world.

“No one really cares about what is outside their door,” he says.

Kuwaitis with the means can insulate themselves from the heat. However, their lifestyle depends on a caste system of sorts. Low-paid foreign laborers from India, Bangladesh, Egypt, and elsewhere do the bulk of the work needed to keep society running. These include gardeners, construction workers, airport baggage handlers, repairmen, and trash collectors.

A bus monitor in Kuwait spends all day in a metal bus stop that roasts in the sun. He brings three frozen water bottles that he holds next to his body to try to keep cool. It doesn’t really work.

“I go home completely finished off,” he says.

It wasn’t always like this. Many Middle Easterners recall the days when summers were more livable. Before Karim, the welder, was born in 1983, Basra was a greener, cooler city. Groves of date palms moderated the temperature, and canals that irrigated the city’s gardens earned Basra the nickname “the Venice of the East.”

Many of those stately palm groves were being cut down when Karim was a child, so many fewer remained when Enad, the construction worker, was growing up in the early 2000s. But even then, the city was still dotted with tamarisks, hearty shrubs that erupted yearly with pink and white flowers.

“It was a joy to see the street full of tamarisk trees and flowers,” Enad says. “Whenever you see green, you feel at peace.”

Today, most of those are gone too. Basra has become a city of concrete and asphalt, which soaks up the sun and radiates heat long after sundown. Sewage and trash clog Basra’s canals, which now do little to moderate the scorching temperatures.

In the future, many people around the world are likely to migrate to escape the heat. But many others will lack the resources to move to a cooler country. Karim and Enad both dream of living elsewhere. Enad hopes to marry and have children, and raise them somewhere that has “space for nature.”

“The houses will be made of wood,” he says, “and there will be a forest.”

It wasn’t always like this. Many Middle Easterners recall the days when summers were more livable. Before Karim, the welder, was born in 1983, Basra was a greener, cooler city. Groves of date palms moderated the temperatures. Canals that irrigated the city’s gardens earned Basra the nickname “the Venice of the East.”

Many of those stately palm groves were being cut down when Karim was a child. Few remained when Enad, the construction worker, was growing up in the early 2000s. But even then, the city was still dotted with tamarisks, hearty shrubs that erupted yearly with pink and white flowers.

“It was a joy to see the street full of tamarisk trees and flowers,” Enad says. “Whenever you see green, you feel at peace.”

Today, most of those are gone too. Basra has become a city of concrete and asphalt. It radiates heat long after sundown. Sewage and trash clog Basra’s canals. Now they can do little to moderate the scorching temperatures.

In the future, many people around the world are likely to migrate to escape the heat. But many others will lack the resources to move to a cooler country. Karim and Enad both dream of living elsewhere. Enad hopes to marry and have children. He wants to raise them somewhere that has “space for nature.”

“The houses will be made of wood,” he says, “and there will be a forest.”

The New York Times team that worked on this story used temperature and humidity monitors, thermal cameras, and heart rate monitors to record temperatures and determine how they affected people’s bodies. The team also consulted climate scientists and researchers who study heat stress.

The New York Times team that worked on this story used temperature and humidity monitors, thermal cameras, and heart rate monitors to record temperatures and determine how they affected people’s bodies. The team also consulted climate scientists and researchers who study heat stress.