I’ve Hit My Climate Tipping Point

Last summer the temperature in London, where I live, climbed above 37 degrees Celsius—or 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It was hotter outside my body than it was inside it. To someone raised under the sodden, used-tissue skies of Britain, that felt like an offense against nature. Everywhere I went, I felt the same constricting, breathless sensation. The heat was like a prison; I had been sentenced to 100 degrees. Stuck at home all day because of COVID-19 shutdowns, I worked with my feet in a bucket of cold water, in front of a fan turned up to what I nicknamed the “Shakira setting.”

Britain’s homes and office spaces weren’t designed with high temperatures in mind; unlike in the Mediterranean and other hot climates, our buildings aren’t typically made with thick walls and shutters to keep out sunlight. Mechanical air-conditioning is. Britain might be a rich, developed country, but that doesn’t make it ready for climate change.