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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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In Providence, at least, climate change is still on the ballot.
Here’s some trivia for you: What was the first state to see its average temperature break the 2-degree Celsius threshold for warming above pre-industrial levels? It wasn’t Alaska, the fastest-warming state, nor was it California or Florida, states with some of the most visible impacts of the extreme weather crisis. It was not Arizona or Texas, either, though “hot” and “warming” are often conflated.
The answer, in fact, is humble Rhode Island, which passed the international benchmark for accelerated climatic impacts back in 2019. It is perhaps less surprising, then, to learn that in the Ocean State’s largest city, Providence, climate change and how to adapt to it have become one of the central talking points in a heated mayoral race, which in the deep-blue city is likely to culminate in the September 9 primary.
There is plenty to worry voters. Providence sits at the head of Narragansett Bay, which has warmed 1.6 degrees Celsius, enough to drive lobsters from the region and convert the local lobstermen into crabbers, fishing for crustaceans they previously considered bycatch. The sea level has risen on Rhode Island’s 400-plus miles of coastline by more than 10 inches since 1930, more than in Venice or Miami, meaning the city floods frequently. Locals hold their breath every hurricane season; a hit from a category 4 or larger storm could tally billions in damages. And as home to the biggest port in the region, Providence is also an unfortunate case study in industrial and fossil-fuel-related pollution affecting historically redlined neighborhoods.
“Since I’ve been in office, we’ve had dramatic, chronic flooding. We’ve had high heat days in the fall that have closed public schools, which is not something that ever happens here in September,” Providence Mayor Brett Smiley told me. “We had some of the highest snowfall in recorded history [in the city]. We’re seeing the effects.”
Smiley, who was elected in 2022, has described investing in infrastructure upgrades for the nearly four-century-old city as one of his “principal responsibilities” as mayor. During his second year in office, he signed an ordinance requiring all of the 122 city-owned buildings to decarbonize by 2040, and that fall published a 10-year plan that introduced air quality, heat, and stormwater management goals, provisions aimed at curbing pollution at the Port of Providence, and would have effectively banned the construction of new gas stations. (A later amendment relaxed the restrictions.) He’s also invested in long-overdue repairs to the city’s hurricane barriers.
This year, Smiley also announced the creation of a Green Revolving Fund to support Providence’s ambitious carbon neutrality goals. “I’ve been in government long enough to know that operating budgets can change as priorities change, and so having a dedicated recurring revenue stream is vital to ensuring that this work continues,” he said.
In the face of federal headwinds, and at a time when the political currency of “climate change,” at least in so many words, is on the downswing, Smiley’s focus on climate issues stands out. That is especially true against the backdrop of a broader state-level reassessment of environmental goals, with Democratic Governor Dan McKee proposing a budget earlier this year that would have slashed climate programs funded by monthly utility charges in the name of affordability. Though Rhode Island lawmakers ultimately rejected that rollback, McKee’s move fits into a larger trend in the region of blue-state politicians in places like Maryland, Massachusetts, and New York curbing or weakening climate ambitions under the pressure of affordability politics. (McKee also faces his own competitive primary.)
“Providence alone can’t solve the climate crisis. But our actions, at least in Rhode Island, are pushing other communities in the state to take action,” Smiley said.
But there are others — including Smiley’s progressive challenger, State Representative David Morales — who say the mayor’s tenure has been a lot of talk and little action, and that he’s neglected Providence’s low-income and frontline communities.
Morales’ campaign did not get back to me for this article, despite requests through multiple channels. But Steve Ahlquist, an independent reporter who follows environmental justice-related issues in Rhode Island, also told me that “over the years, and also in dealing with Mayor Smiley as an incumbent, I’ve had some real difficulty with what I would even call basic honesty out of his administration.” He added that the mayor’s office has a history of downplaying and denying police harassment of unhoused people in particular, including lying about the presence of police officers at a homeless encampment and their involvement in an “illegal search” in 2023.
When I asked the Smiley campaign about Ahlquist’s accusations, press secretary, Carl Austin Miller Grondin told me the city has a “multi-department approach” for addressing encampments of which “Providence Police are one piece,” though he didn’t address the 2023 incident directly. As for the idea that Smiley represents the status quo, Grondin said the mayor has made “significant investments” in programs for underprivileged groups including affordable housing, eviction prevention, public schools and youth programming, and public safety.
Ahlquist also finds Smiley’s talk about affordability and clean energy false, however. Smiley notably vetoed a rent control ordinance, despite the city having some of the highest rates in the country, and while serving as former Governor Gina Raimondo’s chief of staff between 2016 and 2019, he helped push for the expansion of fossil fuel infrastructure in the form of a $1 billion fracked gas and diesel oil power plant that was ultimately thwarted by community pushback. (Grondin told me “rent control policies do not lower rents” and that the mayor “has instead taken a disciplined, results-driven approach to lowering housing costs.” The power plant project was proposed before Smiley’s tenure in Raimondo’s administration, he added.)
Morales, 27, is a Democratic Socialist and has won the backing of Vermont’s Independent Senator Bernie Sanders. His scrappy campaign against an establishment incumbent Democrat has earned him comparisons to New York City’s young, charismatic Mayor Zohran Mamdani. Unlike Mamdani, however, Morales has made climate central to his campaign.
Morales has gone after Smiley particularly hard on environmental justice issues, sensing a weak spot in his record. “Industrial facilities near the Port of Providence have polluted our neighborhoods for decades,” his issues page reads. “David will require them to contribute more toward the city services and infrastructure our communities deserve.”
A nearly two-mile stretch of Allens Avenue, which flanks the port, is home to asphalt plants, scrap metal recyclers, oil and gas companies, and petroleum storage tanks with a history of leaks, spills, dumps, and other forms of contamination. Locals complain that even just driving along the avenue is enough to make you sick, with 11 identified polluters within a mile radius of National Grid’s newest LNG plant. Traffic to and from the port adds to the odor — and health impacts — in the neighboring communities of South Providence and Washington Park, which have some of the highest hospitalization rates in southern New England. Notably, South Providence’s population is 90% people of color; Washington Park’s is above 60%.
Smiley bristled at Morales’ plan to tax polluters. “Many of my opponent’s proposals — which continue to evolve, by the way — are illegal or not allowed, and he leaves some of those details out, and sometimes changes his position,” he told me. Ahlquist, who issued a rare endorsement of Morales last spring, contends that “we know for a fact it is not illegal” to tax polluters at a different rate. (In truth, it’s a bit of a legal gray area; Providence’s tax code allows it to adopt a classification system with different rates for industrial properties, but whether that classification can be used to single out specific polluters on Allens Avenue is murkier.)
In an interview with Ahlquist, Morales has also proposed buying out the Rhode Island Recycled Metals property — where some of the worst contamination has originated — and pursuing “brownfield mediation” in the area. “I find it shameful that Public Street, one of the few shoreline access points around the Port of Providence, is not a very welcoming environment,” he said. On the adaptation side, he’s proposed passing a green energy bond to invest in renewable energy and upgrade the sewage system with an eye on future flooding.
A week ago, it might have seemed as though Morales had progressive momentum on his side. But after the upset of Democratic Socialist Francesca Hong in Wisconsin on Tuesday night and the narrow victory by progressive up-and-comer Abdul El-Sayed in Michigan the week before, the narrative is now more complicated. Meanwhile, the first primary poll shows Smiley with a 4-point edge — within the margin of error, but still likely to have the Morales campaign in a state of jitters.
Climate adaptation can sometimes fall under a variation of the refrain parodied in urban infrastructure circles: One more study would fix this. That’s especially true in Rhode Island, where study after study has highlighted the problems Morales and Smiley are circling, and yet here they still are, at the center of yet another mayoral race.
“One of the things that frustrates me is when you write a plan and then put it on the bookshelf, and that’s the end of it,” Smiley told me, sounding genuinely irked as we spoke on the phone. “That’s not how I do plans.” He told me stormwater infrastructure would be a major focus of his administration if he’s elected to another term, while he hopes his decarbonization roadmap and the green revolving fund will outlast his mayoralty, whenever and however it may end.
Morales has been stymied before, too. Ahlquist recalled watching the young legislator in the State House at the end of a legislative session, when, in the waning hours, he was told by leadership that a bill he’d been working on wasn’t going to get through. “David, when he’s in public, he’s very controlled, very managed,” Ahlquist said. But from his vantage point, Ahlquist could see Morales had started to cry.
“It’s midnight, the last days of session, and I just saw something raw in him then,” Ahlquist said. “It was like, Wow, this is a guy who really gives a shit.”
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to include responses from the Smiley campaign.
Chatting about win-win solutions with the Abundance Institute’s Ryan Norris.
This week’s conversation is with Ryan Norris, senior fellow for energy policy at the Abundance Institute. The libertarian-leaning institute — whose name cleverly shortens to AI — is a new-ish entity with increasing relevance in energy and tech spaces. As Norris and I discussed, it’s starting to help shape policy on data center development and the generation that’ll power it all, especially in Republican circles. Norris himself previously worked with Americans for Prosperity, a right-wing political organization. I reached out to him and asked if we could chat because I wanted to know more about the institute’s work within the energy space. He wound up saying a lot more than I expected. So let’s dive into it.
The following conversation was lightly edited and abridged for clarity.
So let’s start with what you’re working on. What’s on your desk these days?
Here at Abundance, we sit at the juncture of emerging technology and the energy they need to bring that new technology to bear to impact life positively. We are always in a constant state of learning and researching what the latest thoughts and feelings are around certain policies, particularly around AI and data centers, and then energy technology. How do they feel about nuclear? Geothermal? Solar and battery arrays?
A lot of what I’m working on is Project Gigawatt, a body of policy that fits into permitting, generation, the grid, transmission, and then market and demand. Policies that we believe will generate more, transmit more, and as much of a free market approach as possible. Knowing that a lot of states have regulated utilities, when the state utility can’t produce what the state can potentially actually generate or would need to in order to accommodate large loads, we think there needs to be other opportunities to either bring that power or purchase it in a different way.
When it comes to this policy set, how are you taking into account the intensifying backlash to data center and AI infrastructure, as well as the energy attached to it?
As everyone can sense, things are moving rapidly, and there is a natural inclination to question how fast we’re going. I think these concerns need to be addressed seriously and respectfully. You can’t just say negative things about people who care about water quality or impacts to their local economies. Those are valid. I’ve lived through those. I come from a rural place in Arkansas that had oil and gas plays. And I’ve seen there needs to be conversations with people living in those areas too.
We cannot discount the backlash. When you take the legitimate concerns and pair them with the opportunities coming, I think there’s actually a chance to set up win-win solutions. It shouldn’t be a win-lose scenario here. They have skepticism about AI in the short and long term — that’s a natural inclination and not a negative, per se. But educating people and policymakers about data centers, that’s important.
What is your approach to the rise in land use regulation around data centers and energy infrastructure, moratoria and restrictive ordinances?
As much as possible, you want the infrastructure and cost allocation to be borne by the business causing it. That’s the motivation behind a lot of colocation partnerships happening right now, like the Kilby project in Texas, with natural gas powering a Microsoft hyperscale.
To us, it’s about setting up the opportunity for private property owners to sell to those hyperscalers and those generating the energy. Setting up situations where you’re not stopping people from benefiting. A lot of the “bring your own power” concept, we really like that. Maybe having it where power purchase agreements are more in the mix, things along those lines. That’s where I see things.
The energy increases to our utility bills, people are concerned about it, and that’s a bread and butter issue. That’s the approach: We know we need grid upgrades and want to have the most cost effective versions of those as possible, but you want those needing the power paying for it and not putting it on the backs of residents.
I’m curious, what’s you and your organization’s approach to the rise of gas infrastructure built for AI and the potential impacts that could have on climate change?
I don’t discount the issue of climate change.
Let’s say we’re not able to decarbonize enough to reverse the effects of warmth. We know we’ll have to create energy. We know we have other options for energy that need to be in the mix — more nuclear, which now even some of those who are climate-minded understand is an abundant energy source. I’m also interested in new technologies in geothermal where it can be viable in more places than we thought. You can drill down and tap hot rocks, a basin of water, turn a turbine, and that’s more acceptable for those who care about the climate. And states are looking at it, including my state of Arkansas. I bring these up because I also care about sources that provide firm, consistently available power.
We attended the American Legislative Exchange Council, and one of the things we do, we’re voting members on the energy, environment, and agriculture task force. We’re pro letting the market decide what they need. So we took opposite stances from what people typically consider normal standards on the center-right about banning “net-zero” for local governments. It did pass as model legislation but if we believe “all of the above” is the approach, we also want to be principally correct to ourselves that it doesn’t mean banning wind or solar where it’s viable.
My last question: What’s your thought on the future of politics around AI infrastructure and energy generation for it?
There’s definitely headwinds to those in that industry. I think the sense is, they understood what they wanted and didn’t see any barriers to the way they’d go about it. That’s causing ripple effects in our politics at the local level, including here in Arkansas, where I live in Pulaski County. I think it’ll stay important particularly as it connects to affordability concerns around energy. We know we need more energy, but we want it at the lowest cost possible to the residential side. If people are feeling like data centers are driving the demand for the energy and aren’t on the hook for it, that’s going to position them to be more negative towards the technology.
But we have to expand the conversation. There are folks out there talking about 3D printing for homes, using proprietary cement mixes to build homes in a few weeks when they took months. Agriculture is using robotics in lieu of pesticides and herbicides. Advanced manufacturing is improving the quality of medical equipment. No one completely understands the end goal of new energy to fuel the data centers and AI to get us where there’s a net benefit to them.
Plus more of the week’s biggest development fights.
1. Shelby County, Alabama — The Trump administration’s widening effort to intervene in rural energy project fights is facing an early test: What happens if companies don’t take it seriously?
2. Ozaukee County, Wisconsin — Speaking of walls, we just saw the political power of the data center resistance hit one in the Badger State.
3. Everywhere in Texas — Texas Governor Greg Abbott is getting a lot of love for his data center standards, with major developers rolling out press statements claiming they’ll comply.
4. Herkimer County, New York — Something weird is going on in upstate New York with a monastery, a wind farm, and the Trump administration. I’m not sure what to make of it yet.