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As climate writers, my colleagues and I spend a lot of time telling readers that places are hot. The Arabian Peninsula? It’s hot. The Atlantic Ocean? It’s hot. The southern U.S. and northern Mexico? Hot and getting hotter.
But here’s a little secret: “Hot” doesn’t really mean … anything. The word is, of course, of critical importance when it comes to communicating that global temperatures are the highest they’ve been in 125,000 years because of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, or for public health officials to anticipate and prevent deaths when the environment reaches the point where human bodies start malfunctioning. But when you hear it’s “100 degrees out,” what does that really tell you?
Beyond that you’re a fellow member of the Fahrenheit cult, the answer is: not a lot. Humans can “probably avoid overheating” in temperatures of 115 degrees — but only if they’re in a dry room with 10 percent relative humidity, wearing “minimal” clothing, and not moving, The New York Times reports. On the other hand, you have a high chance of life-threatening heat stroke when it’s a mere 90 degrees out … if the humidity is at 95%. Then there are all the variables in between: if there’s a breeze, if you’re pregnant, if you’re standing in the shade or the sun, if you’re a child, if you’re running a 10K or if you’re napping on your couch in front of a swamp cooler.
In order to better specify how hot “hot” is, a number of different equations and techniques have been developed around the world. In general, this math takes into account two main variables: temperature (the one we all use, also known as “dry bulb” or “ambient air temperature,” which is typically measured five feet above the ground in the shade) and relative humidity (the percentage of air saturated with water vapor, also known as the ugly cousin of the trendier dew point; notably Canada’s heat index equivalent, the Humidex, is calculated from the dew point rather than the relative humidity).
In events like the already deadly heat dome over the southern United States and northern Mexico this week, you typically hear oohing and ahhing about the “heat index,” which is sometimes also called the “apparent temperature,” “feels like temperature,” “humiture,” or, in AccuWeather-speak, the “RealFeel® temperature.”
But what does that mean and how is it calculated?
The heat index roughly approximates how hot it “actually feels.”
This is different than the given temperature on the thermometer because the amount of humidity in the air affects how efficiently sweat evaporates from our skin and in turn keeps us cool. The more humidity there is, the less efficiently our bodies can cool themselves, and the hotter we feel; in contrast, when the air is dry, it’s easier for our bodies to keep cool. Regrettably, this indeed means that insufferable Arizonans who say “it’s a dry heat!” have a point.
The heat index, then, tells you an estimate of the temperature it would have to be for your body to be similarly stressed in “normal” humidity conditions of around 20%. In New Orleans this week, for example, the temperature on the thermometer isn’t expected to be above 100°F, but because the humidity is so high, the heat toll on the body will be as if it were actually 115°F out in normal humidity.
Importantly, the heat index number is calculated as if you were standing in the shade. If you’re exposed to the sun at all, the “feels like” is, of course, actually higher — potentially as many as 15 degrees higher. Someone standing in the New Orleans sun this week might more realistically feel like they’re in 130-degree heat.

Here’s the catch, though: The heat index is “purely theoretical since the index can’t be measured and is highly subjective,” as meteorologist Chris Robbins explains. The calculations are all made under the assumption that you are a 5’7”, 147-pound healthy white man wearing short sleeves and pants, and walking in the shade at the speed of 3.1 mph while a 6-mph wind gently ruffles your hair.
Wait, what?
I’m glad you asked.
In 1979, a physicist named R. G. Steadman published a two-part paper delightfully titled “The Assessment of Sultriness.” In it, he observed that though many approaches to measuring “sultriness,” or the combined effects of temperature and humidity, can be taken, “it is best assessed in terms of its physiological effect on humans.” He then set out, with obsessive precision, to do so.
Steadman came up with a list of approximately 19 variables that contribute to the overall “feels like” temperature, including the surface area of an average human (who is assumed to be 1.7 meters tall and weigh 67 kilograms); their clothing cover (84%) and those clothes’ resistance to heat transfer (the shirt and pants are assumed to be 20% fiber and 80% air); the person’s core temperature (a healthy 98.6°F) and sweat rate (normal); the effective wind speed (5 knots); the person’s activity level (typical walking speed); and a whole lot more.
Here’s an example of what just one of those many equations looked like:

Needless to say, Steadman’s equations and tables weren’t exactly legible for a normal person — and additionally they made a whole lot of assumptions about who a “normal person” was — but Steadman was clearly onto something. Describing how humidity and temperature affected the human body was, at the very least, interesting and useful. How, then, to make it easier?
In 1990, the National Weather Service’s Lans P. Rothfusz used multiple regression analysis to simplify Steadman’s equations into a single handy formula while at the same time acknowledging that to do so required relying on assumptions about the kind of body that was experiencing the heat and the conditions surrounding him. Rothfusz, for example, used Steadman’s now-outdated calculations for the build of an average American man, who as of 2023 is 5’9” and weighs 198 pounds. This is important because, as math educator Stan Brown notes in a blog post, if you’re heavier than the 147 pounds assumed in the traditional heat index equation, then your “personal heat index” will technically be slightly hotter.
Rothfusz’s new equation looked like this:
Heat index = -42.379 + 2.04901523T + 10.14333127R - 0.22475541TR - 6.83783x10-3T 2 - 5.481717x10-2R 2 + 1.22874x10-3T 2R + 8.5282x10-4TR2 - 1.99x10-6T 2R 2
So much easier, right?
If your eyes didn’t totally glaze over, it actually sort of is — in the equation, T stands for the dry bulb temperature (in degrees Fahrenheit) and R stands for the relative humidity, and all you have to do is plug those puppies into the formula to get your heat index number. Or not: There are lots of online calculators that make doing this math as straightforward as just typing in the two numbers.
Because Rothfusz used multiple regression analysis, the heat index that is regularly cited by the government and media has a margin of error of +/- 1.3°F relative to a slightly more accurate, albeit hypothetical, heat index. Also of note: There are a bunch of different methods of calculating the heat index, but Rothfusz’s is the one used by the NWS and the basis for its extreme heat alerts. The AccuWeather “RealFeel,” meanwhile, has its own variables that it takes into account and that give it slightly different numbers.
Midday Wednesday in New Orleans, for example, when the ambient air temperature was 98°F, the relative humidity was 47%, and the heat index hovered around 108.9°F, AccuWeather recorded a RealFeel of 111°F and a RealFeel Shade of 104°F.
You might also be wondering at this point, as I did, that if Steadman at one time factored out all these variables individually, wouldn’t it be possible to write a simple computer program that is capable of personalizing the “feel like” temperature so they are closer to your own physical specifications? The answer is yes, although as Randy Au writes in his excellent Substack post on the heat index equation, no one has seemingly actually done this yet. Math nerds, your moment is now.
Because we’re Americans, it is important that we use the weirdest possible measurements at all times. This is probably why the heat index is commonly cited by our government, media, and meteorologists when communicating how hot it is outside.
But it gets weirder. Unlike the heat index, though, the “wet-bulb globe temperature” (sometimes abbreviated “WBGT”) is specifically designed to understand “heat-related stress on the human body at work (or play) in direct sunlight,” NWS explains. In a sense, the wet-bulb globe temperature measures what we experience after we’ve been cooled by sweat.

The “bulb” we’re referring to here is the end of a mercury thermometer (not to be confused with a lightbulb or juvenile tulip). Natural wet-bulb temperature (which is slightly different from the WBGT, as I’ll explain in a moment) is measured by wrapping the bottom of a thermometer in a wet cloth and passing air over it. When the air is dry, it is by definition less saturated with water and therefore has more capacity for moisture. That means that under dry conditions, more water from the cloth around the bulb evaporates, which pulls more heat away from the bulb, dropping the temperature. This is the same reason why you feel cold when you get out of a shower or swimming pool. The drier the air, the colder the reading on the wet-bulb thermometer will be compared to the actual air temperature.
Wet bulb temperature - why & when is it used?www.youtube.com
If the air is humid, however, less water is able to evaporate from the wet cloth. When the relative humidity is at 100% — that is, the air is fully saturated with water — then the wet-bulb temperature and the normal dry-bulb temperature will be the same.
Because of this, the wet-bulb temperature is usually lower than the relative air temperature, which makes it a bit confusing when presented without context (a comfortable wet-bulb temperature at rest is around 70°F). Wet-bulb temperatures over just 80, though, can be very dangerous, especially for active people.
The WBGT is, like the heat index, an apparent temperature, or “feels like,” calculation; generally when you see wet-bulb temperatures being referred to, it is actually the WBGT that is being discussed. This is also the measurement that is preferred by the military, athletic organizations, road-race organizers, and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration because it helps you understand how, well, survivable the weather is, especially if you are moving.
Our bodies regulate temperature by sweating to shed heat, but sweat stops working “once the wet-bulb temperature passes 95°F,” explains Popular Science. “That’s because, in order to maintain a normal internal temperature, your skin has to stay at 95°F degrees or below.” Exposure to wet-bulb temperatures over 95°F can be fatal within just six hours. On Wednesday, when I was doing my readings of New Orleans, the wet-bulb temperature was around 88.5°F.
The WBGT is helpful because it takes the natural wet-bulb temperature reading a step further by factoring in considerations not only of temperature and humidity, but also wind speed, sun angle, and solar radiation (basically cloud cover). Calculating the WBGT involves taking a weighted average of the ambient, wet-bulb, and globe temperature readings, which together cover all these variables.
That formula looks like:
Wet-bulb globe temperature = 0.7Tw + 0.2Tg + 0.1Td
Tw is the natural wet-bulb temperature, Tg is the globe thermometer temperature (which measures solar radiation), and Td is the dry bulb temperature. By taking into account the sun angle, cloud cover, and wind, the WBGT gives a more nuanced read of how it feels to be a body outside — but without getting into the weeds with 19 different difficult-to-calculate variables like, ahem, someone we won’t further call out here.
Thankfully, there’s a calculator for the WBGT formula, although don’t bother entering all the info if you don’t have to — the NWS reports it nationally, too.
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Behind both the Anthropic IPO and the Iran War negotiations sits the energy transition.
When you get down to it, two stories are dominating the American economy at the moment.
The first is the artificial intelligence boom. The second is the Iran war — and the wavering peace talks, and unprecedented energy transformation, that accompany it. Both stories advanced on Monday.
In the morning, the frontier AI lab Anthropic announced that it had confidentially filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission for an initial public offering, a widely anticipated step that could see its shares start trading as early as the fall.
The Iran news was perhaps less bullish. Iran announced this morning that it was suspending negotiations after it traded missile and bomb attacks with the United States through the weekend. Oil prices surged on the news before relaxing somewhat after President Trump personally intervened to keep Israel from bombing Lebanon. Trump claimed peace talks with Iran “are continuing, at a rapid pace.”
Still, oil ended the day higher than where it started. The global Brent crude benchmark rose more than 4.5% to over $95 per barrel. The American benchmark, WTI, rose more than 5% to around $92. While neither benchmark has reached its highs from earlier in the war, the episode seemed to remind investors that an oil crisis is still happening and that talks could fall apart at any time. The Strait of Hormuz remains (mostly) closed.
Taken together, the two stories suggest generally good news — or at least, that’s what investors thought. Most major U.S. stock indices crept up slightly through the day; the S&P 500 closed up a quarter of a percent. (It helped that Nvidia — whose head of sustainability I interviewed for Heatmap’s podcast, Shift Key, last week — also unveiled a new consumer laptop chip this morning, sending its shares surging.)
Viewed from another angle, though, you can see a common energy story in these updates. The Anthropic filing — taken together with last week’s news that “mind-blowing growth” is about to propel the lab behind the Claude AI assistant into its first profitable quarter — is a reminder that surging electricity demand is now a dependable part of our electricity system. Demand will in turn remain strong for anything that can help supply that electricity — solar panels, batteries, wind turbines, and (yes) natural gas paraphernalia.
Meanwhile, who knows what will happen in a week or two, but for now, the Iran-induced oil shortage has caused so much demand destruction in China — and seemed to encourage so much switching to electric vehicles — that it seems almost manageable. The commodity researchers at JP Morgan last week mused that the world may be learning to live with 9% less oil. It helps, of course, that China — and the rest of the world — is drawing down its strategic reserves; price action has remained muted in part because oil investors believe Trump is desperate for a deal. But if East Asia and Europe respond to the oil shortage by permanently deleting at least part of their oil demand, it will be by switching from oil and diesel-burning technologies to power-sipping EVs and batteries.
Behind both of the economy’s biggest stories, in other words, sits the great global transition to electricity.
A climate scientist goes back to the numbers to argue that we’re overestimating the cost of the energy transition.
I’ve long been struck by how hard it is to predict the evolution of our energy system even a few years in advance, never mind 25 or 30 years. I still remember the “peak oil” craze in the mid-2000s, when people were telling me the end of oil was nigh. It sounded convincing right up until it turned out to be wrong.
Let me show you how bad previous predictions have been for the electricity sector.
Each plot below shows predictions of how a particular source of electricity will evolve, as well as what actually happened. The data comes from the Energy Information Administration and covers the U.S. electricity sector.
We’ll start with coal. In the first plot, the black line shows actual U.S. coal-fired electricity generation. The blue lines are predictions made each year since 2008.
In 2008, coal was expected to produce increasing amounts of electricity into the future. Instead, it immediately started to decline. It took until 2023 for the EIA to begin predicting a long-term decline in coal, despite the fact that coal had been declining for 15 years.
Natural gas, by contrast, has generated an increasing share of U.S. electricity. This is largely due to the tidal wave of cheap natural gas from hydraulic fracturing. The predictions, on the other hand, did not anticipate this.
The takeaway here is that predicting the evolution of our energy system is not just difficult in the long run, e.g., 30 years from now, but also that it’s difficult even in the short run.
If we combine coal and gas, the forecasts look better. This reflects the fact that natural gas has largely replaced coal over the years, so that the underestimate for gas helps cancel out the overestimate for coal.
But even for the combined category, the forecasts vary widely.
Moving on to renewables, here’s solar, including both utility and residential solar:
And here’s wind:
For both energy sources, predictions before 2015 were really bad. What changed after that I can’t say — my guess is they got sick of being so wrong.
Across all energy sources, the 2023 and 2025 forecasts differ sharply from the 2026 forecast. The predictions made for those years assume the persistence of Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act, while 2026 predictions assume the reversal of those policies.
The difference between 2025 and 2026 is an estimate of the role that politics plays in the future evolution of our electricity sector. That we cannot confidently predict who will win future elections or what their policies will be is another very good reason why it’s so hard to predict the future of our energy system.
Why is it so hard to predict the energy mix in our electricity system? One big reason is that it is hard to predict the future rate of innovation. We can see this in a plot of the cost of energy:
I’m using levelized cost of energy as my measure of the cost to produce power from each source. I understand the limitations of LCOE, but for an energy developer, LCOE is the number that counts. Yes, wind and solar are intermittent, but that’s a grid problem. All that matters to the developer is which low-LCOE energy source they can build.
You can see that the price of wind and solar plummeted in the early 2010s, reflecting enormous innovation in the production of renewable energy. That was not predicted by most mainstream forecasts, as confirmed by predictions of wind and solar above.
There has also been a lot of innovation in fossil fuel production, most importantly fracking and horizontal drilling. These technologies drove down the cost of natural gas in the late 2000s and changed the economics of electricity generation almost overnight. Coal plants that had looked like safe long-term investments suddenly faced a cheaper competitor.
Yet this, too, was largely missed. In the late 2000s, many utilities were still trying to build coal plants, unable to see that coal was entering a precipitous decline. TXU Corp., for instance, tried to build 11 new coal plants in Texas in the mid-aughts. Though it was the state’s largest utility at the time, it ultimately got bought out by private equity, who compromised with environmental groups and agreed to build just three of the original 11 proposed plants, two of which are still in operation.
Meanwhile, the restructured TXU declared bankruptcy in 2014, after natural gas prices collapsed.
All of this goes to show that coal was not beaten by a single technology. It was beaten by a sequence of technologies that forecasters failed to anticipate.
Based on economics, coal is now a stone-cold loser. Its remaining advantage is not cost, nor is it speed of construction or flexibility. It is politics. The Trump Administration is forcing coal-fired plants to stay open, and recent reporting suggests these interventions are raising costs for consumers.
In the competition between solar, wind, and natural gas, solar and wind are the cheapest. The combination of low costs and short construction times with the price volatility of natural gas gives wind and solar a huge market advantage, explaining their exponential growth.
Yes, solar and wind are coming for natural gas.
The LCOE plot also shows the profound disadvantage nuclear faces. Nuclear energy costs nearly $200 per megawatt-hour, around four times the cost of wind and solar. And it takes a decade or two to get it online. Without government mandates or heavy policy support, I would say there is little likelihood we will see a nuclear renaissance.
Much of the debate in climate policy centers on the cost, difficulty, and timeline for phasing out fossil fuels in order to achieve net zero. You constantly hear pundits and analysts throwing around eye-popping numbers, confidently claiming, e.g., that “it will cost XXX trillions of dollars to reach net zero in our economy by 2050.”

But if the forecasting failures of the past 20 years have taught us anything, it’s this: We simply have no idea how much decarbonization will cost.
You should treat numbers like McKinsey’s estimate above as guesses. They could be right, but historically speaking, they probably aren’t.
To summarize, here are the reasons why the true cost of reaching net zero remains so uncertain:
Overall, the uncertainty in these long-term forecasts is enormous. And if history is any guide, the errors are not random. They usually point in the same direction — they overestimate the cost of the energy transition.
One reason is that traditional forecasting models tend to assume slow, steady technological progress. But energy technologies do not always improve that way. Solar, wind, batteries, and fracking all show that costs can change fast when conditions line up. Most models, which assume gradual change, will miss these breaks.
Another problem is that fossil fuels are often treated as stable, low-risk alternatives. They are not. Their prices can swing wildly, and their supply chains are exposed to wars, political instability, and global market shocks. Those costs are real and hard to predict, so they are left out of these estimates.
That is the central point: Estimates of the cost of the energy transition should be treated as conditional guesses built on assumptions about technology, fuel prices, politics, and geopolitics, all of which have repeatedly surprised us.
The lesson of the past 20 years is not that the energy transition will be easy or hard — we really don’t know. Anyone claiming to know the cost decades in advance should be treated with skepticism.
Editor’s note: A version of this article originally appeared in the author’s newsletter, The Climate Brink, and has been repurposed for Heatmap.
Current conditions: The Atlantic hurricane season officially began today, in what’s expected to be a relatively mild year • A powerful storm with winds of up to 80 miles per hour is walloping broad swaths of millions of Australians • Temperatures in Oman are approaching 120 degrees Fahrenheit.

The United States’ offshore wind industry is, at this very moment, booming — at least in terms of the turbine arrays finally coming online in recent weeks. But there are no new projects underway as President Donald Trump pulls out all the stops to kill the industry in what I have previously called a death by a thousand cuts. That’s despite the fact that demand for electricity is soaring in the U.S. Luckily for Americans, our nation’s aging network of power grids overlaps with our northern neighbor’s. And Canada is now looking at a potential offshore wind boom. Last summer, Nova Scotia started laying the groundwork for offshore wind projects. Now Ming Yang, the world’s third-largest manufacturer of wind turbines, is considering investing in a project off Canada’s Pacific coast. The proposed project in the Hecate Strait off British Columbia would add up to 2 gigawatts of offshore wind capacity to Canada’s portfolio, according to Renewables Now. It’s part of Ming Yang’s broader push into Western markets, as my colleague Matthew Zeitlin reported last October.
Just days after New York State delayed its carbon-cutting plan and loosened the rules on how it counts greenhouse gases, California mounted its own retreat on climate goals. On Friday, Bloomberg reported that the California Air Resources Board had voted to give as much as $4 billion of free allowances to oil refiners and other industrial polluters to make compliance with the state’s 13-year-old carbon market easier. At least New York Governor Kathy Hochul “had the decency” to signal publicly that she intended to roll back the state’s climate law, said Danny Cullenward, an economist and lawyer who wrote a book on climate policy. “Here in California we do the same in private and call it climate leadership,” Cullenward wrote of California Governor Gavin Newsom and CARB Chair Lauren Sanchez in a post on Bluesky.
Kudos to the Trump administration, then, for being so open about its plans to render the SEC something that might more appropriately serve as an acronym for Salting the Earth of Climate disclosures. Last month, I told you that the Securities and Exchange Commission was reviewing a Biden-era rule requiring companies to disclose the risk climate change posed to their businesses. On Friday, the agency formally proposed eliminating the regulation. “SEC disclosure obligations should comply with the Commission’s statutory authority, be guided by materiality as the North Star, avoid the practical effect of dictating corporate behavior, and be imposed only when the expected benefits justify the likely costs and burdens,” SEC Chairman Paul S. Atkins said in a statement.
Rehlko isn’t a household name, but it used to be: The 106-year-old firm was previously called Kohler Energy. But since spinning out from the titan of American manufacturing of kitchen sinks and bathroom toilets, Rehlko has honed its business as a leading producer and installer of generators and the infrastructure to house the diesel-, gas-, or hydrogen-fired power sources. Now, I can report exclusively for this newsletter, the company is preparing to expand its factory in Wisconsin as its backlog of orders for generators to power data centers stretches beyond 13 months. In an interview on Friday, Rehlko CEO Brian Melka told me that this facility is part of a plan “to increase the size and the output of the business about four to five times, or 400% to 500%, over the next five or six years.” The Wisconsin plant is specifically designed to assemble the company’s “e-frame” product, a generator enclosure that looks like a shipping container and includes the wiring and fire suppression tools needed to safely house one of Rehlko’s proprietary generators, which provide off-grid back-up power to data centers, hospitals, and other large power users. In addition to beefing up its capacity to manufacture more generators and enclosures, the company is expanding its engineering team for larger projects in which Rehlko uses another firm’s gas turbines for full-time power generation.
“We want to maintain that competitive edge, not only to be able to deliver the product faster but also to deliver the entire solution faster,” Melka said. “This is going to significantly increase our capacity as we go into 2027 with this new facility to be able to build many more fully enclosed units. The demand keeps pushing out. We essentially sold out the capacity for that building for 2027 and 2028 before we even signed the lease.”
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Unlike Russia, France, Japan, and China, the U.S. doesn’t recycle its nuclear waste. That is, until now. Roughly half a dozen companies are competing to be the first to create a beachhead for a new recycling industry in the U.S. Now one of those startups, Curio, has kicked off the pre-application process for a Nuclear Regulatory Commission permit. It’s just an inaugural step: Submitting a letter of intent to the agency to establish a docket and start providing documents to the regulator. But Curio plans to build a plant that could process up to 4,000 metric tons of used commercial light water reactor fuel per year. “The initiation of this application process marks a key and decisive moment for Curio and our nation as we commercially deploy what will be the world’s most advanced and capable used nuclear fuel recycling facility based on our game-changing NuCycle technology,” Curio CEO Ed McGinnis said in a statement, referring to the brand of the company’s reprocessing technology that was recently validated by four of the Department of Energy’s national laboratories.
South Korea, meanwhile, wants to start enriching and reprocessing its own fuel, and has garnered support from the Trump administration to do so. In the meantime, the democratic world’s most competent builder of civilian nuclear plants is doing what it does best and starting construction on a new reactor. On Friday, World Nuclear News reported that crews had poured the first concrete for Shin Hanul nuclear plant’s fourth reactor.
In January, I told you when Century Aluminum overhauled its plans to build the first new aluminum smelter in the U.S. to include an investment from an Emirati company. At the time, the Energy Department hailed the deal as a sign that Trump’s tariffs were working. On Friday, Mining.com published a feature building off a report from the advocacy group Industrious Labs that examined the recent push for new aluminum smelting in the U.S. The analysis concluded that, while 50% tariffs bolstered the sector, “access to industrial-scale electricity — and increasingly industrial-scale clean electricity — is the pain point,” said Annie Sartor, senior campaigns director at Industrious Labs. “Aluminum producers are being scooped by data centers and hyperscalers. They can simply pay more for the power.”
Among the more exciting concepts for supplying the market with cheap, clean, and affordable hydrogen is finding the stuff in naturally-formed underground reservoirs, allowing oil and gas drillers to do their thing for a green fuel. Now Oman, the Arab world’s diplomatic equivalent of Switzerland, is making progress in drilling the first wells for natural hydrogen. HyTerra, the Australian startup exploring for hydrogen in the country, told the Oman Observer that the successful pilot well boded well for tapping “one of the best source rock systems” for natural hydrogen yet discovered in the world. Given the latest heat wave in the country, the value of a fossil fuel replacement is likely becoming more obvious.