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People without air conditioning fare better during blackouts. Here’s why.
I am, in the summer, the human equivalent of a slightly overcooked noodle.
This is especially true in a coastal city like Washington, D.C., where I live. The heat and humidity seep into my bones and I attain a semi-liquid state in which, despite my enthusiasm for hiking and kayaking and swimming and all those other good summer activities, I find myself craving exactly one thing every time I go outside: Air conditioning.
Air conditioners, for better or worse, have become our default solution for extreme heat. When concrete and steel construction replaced regional architecture around the world, air conditioners — where people could afford them — awkwardly, imperfectly filled the spaces left behind by missing local design and materials that would have otherwise helped cope with the weather. And as the world gets hotter, ACs are growing more and more popular: In India, where I mostly grew up without an AC, sales of ACs have skyrocketed over the past decade from three million units in 2013 to an expected 9.7 million this year.
But there is, of course, a catch. As vernacular architecture disappears, so too does vernacular knowledge; many of us, bowing to our cooling-machine gods, have forgotten how to deal with the heat.
Air conditioning has an odd side effect: It makes us dependent. In a 2021 study from Georgia Tech’s Urban Climate Lab, which modeled indoor heat across Atlanta, Phoenix, and Detroit during heat waves, researchers found that people without air conditioning would fare better during a blackout because they’d be more likely to take other measures to help deal with the heat. These are simple moves, like drinking more water and using curtains to keep their rooms dark and cool, whereas people with air conditioning might put too much faith in their appliances — and be entirely unprepared for those appliances to stop working.
“I think a combined blackout and heat wave is the most deadly climate risk we’re confronting right now,” said Brian Stone Jr., director of the Urban Climate Lab and a Professor in the School of City and Regional Planning at Georgia Tech. “A blackout situation really kind of inverts the traditional risk pyramid. If you don’t have air conditioning in your house, you probably have greater heat resilience. Those of us who have air conditioning whenever we want it are going to be more susceptible.”
Heat waves put extreme stress on power grids, and blackouts are increasingly common as summers get hotter. If more people buy more air conditioners without any work being done to shore up the grid (and, believe me, the grid badly needs shoring up), that extra stress could lead to quicker, more common grid failures. It’s unfortunately easy to imagine just how dangerous a grid failure can be: A major blackout during a heat wave would be the inverse of the Texas blackout during the winter of 2021, when hundreds of Texans died of hypothermia in their own homes.
For someone in a house without an air conditioner, a blackout during a heat wave probably wouldn’t affect the temperature inside much; someone who does have one, however, will inevitably find their house heating up beyond a point they were prepared for. As Rebecca Leber pointed out in Vox, early-season heat waves are dangerous because our bodies aren’t prepared for the heat. The sudden loss of air conditioning for someone used to it is dangerous for the same reason.
Our built environment, like a natural ecosystem, is the sum total of many pieces fitting together, and not all of them fit perfectly. Air conditioners are the perfect example: They aren’t universally good at cooling our buildings down, especially if those buildings weren’t built with air conditioning in mind — they often lack proper insulation, for example, which means cooled air will escape a room quickly. That means air conditioners will have to work harder to cool the air, which both further heats up the air outside and places more stress on the grid. When the built ecosystem fails, its human inhabitants inevitably suffer.
Last week, I wrote about a study out of Portland, Oregon, that measured how hot the units in three public-housing developments got during the summer of 2022. To the surprise of the researchers conducting that study, the units with air conditioners were not much cooler than those that didn’t have them. There were a few reasons for this: first, running an air conditioner is expensive, and residents with air conditioners would often turn the temperature up to save on electricity costs. Second, the buildings weren’t designed for air conditioning, so the apartments couldn’t retain cooled air very well.
Third, and most importantly, the residents who didn’t have air conditioners were both more cognizant of heat dangers and more likely to take other steps to cool their spaces down; they retained, in other words, a sort of vernacular knowledge of how to deal with the heat.
“The residents who don’t have air conditioners go to great lengths to keep their homes cool,” said Dana Hellman, a program manager at CAPA Strategies, the climate consultancy that ran the Portland study for the city. “For example, they made DIY insulation for their windows or kept all their lights off or their curtains closed all day long. It’s burdensome, but it might be leveling the field a little bit.”
Which isn’t to say that air conditioners should be abandoned wholesale. If indoor temperatures rise too much, everyone is at risk of heat stroke. Many cities, including Portland, operate cooling centers for residents to go to during extreme heat events. But none of those cities mandate that those centers have some sort of backup power option, and even if they did there aren’t nearly enough centers to serve every resident.
As with climate change more broadly, there are obvious equity issues here: The people who are most likely to use cooling centers are the people who are most likely vulnerable in other ways, as well. More well-off residents can afford to pay for an air conditioner, its associated costs, and possibly also a backup generator to help them ride out a heat wave in the comfort of their own homes; many cooling centers are understaffed and under-resourced, which raises safety concerns for residents who then have to choose whether to stay home or potentially put themselves at risk for the sake of finding relief from the heat.
So what should we do as the world continues to heat up?
We can start with the long, hard task of adapting the grid to keep us safe during heat waves, a fix that Stone points out is decades overdue. “Back in the 90s, the idea was that we’d be successful in reducing global emissions and wouldn’t need to adapt [to global warming],” Stone said. “If we had acknowledged to ourselves that it was going to be a 20 to 50 year project just to start adapting, we might have been more attuned to the fact that the electrical grid is a life support system for us when it is too hot outside to be healthy. But that’s been a slow realization.”
In Portland, the housing authority has a program to provide public housing residents with free air conditioners. But there are other forms of adaptation, too: Stone and his colleagues found that cool roofs, which reflect more sunlight than traditional roofs, can lower ambient temperatures by 1 to 1.5 degrees Celsius. Urban tree cover, which throws potentially life-saving shade onto houses and roads alike, can also go a long way towards cooling things down.
Most important, however, is actually going to be changing the way we interact with heat. Education — getting people to take heat waves as seriously as, say, a hurricane or wildfire — is just as important as modifying our built environment. Perhaps we'll all, as Morgan Meaker wrote in Wired last year, take a leaf out of the Spanish playbook and adopt the siesta (an idea that I personally endorse), or learn to live in the dark caves of our curtain-darkened apartments in the peak of summer.
I may even start turning up my AC to let my body acclimatize to its natural state of noodle. Whatever the solution, heat must re-enter our vernacular: not just as something we mechanically force out of our homes, but as something we figure out how to live with.
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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. “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,” Steve Ahlquist, an independent reporter who follows environmental justice-related issues in Rhode Island, told me, adding that the mayor’s office has a history of downplaying and denying police harassment of unhoused people in particular.
Ahlquist also finds Smiley’s talk about affordability and clean energy false. 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.
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.” (Morales’ campaign did not get back to me for this article, despite requests through multiple channels.)
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.”
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.