Climate change is not a future threat but a present reality that is being felt across all regions of the planet. I remember that the first times I heard about climate change, the news was accompanied by images of polar bears watching the ice melt beneath their feet. It seemed terrible—and it was and still is—but now it has become a much closer, tangible reality. In fact, in recent years we have witnessed a series of climate disasters that starkly show how global warming is amplifying natural risks—with environmental costs, yes, but also enormous economic costs and, above all, the most painful of all: human costs and impacts on our quality of life. Climate change not only threatens our quality of life, but it also causes many people to die long before their time.
To put things into perspective in terms of lives, what is climate change? We could talk about the monsoon in June and July 2025 in Pakistan, which brought rains that left more than 300 people dead and thousands homeless. In case there is still any doubt (and many people still have it), scientific analyses show that these rains were between 10 and 15% more intense than they would have been without global warming. We can also find examples in the United States this very year (precisely in a country and at a time when decision-makers deny this reality), both in the South and the Midwest. What is shocking is not only the denial but the insistence on ignoring the problem by eliminating prevention systems: from 1980 to 2024, the country suffered 403 disasters that claimed nearly 17,000 lives and resulted in more than 2.9 trillion dollars in direct costs. The frequency and cost of disasters have increased dramatically since 1980, and research estimates that this type of rainfall is now 40% more likely and 9% more intense than in pre-industrial times. When I said prevention systems are being eliminated, I meant that to get rid of such negative data, what they actually did was shut down the U.S. Meteorological and Climate Disaster Database in May 2025.
We could also talk about the wildfires that swept through California during the summer of 2025, devastating vast areas, reaching historic communities, and forcing thousands of people to leave their homes. Prolonged drought and rising extreme heat, both intensified by climate change, are making every fire season more destructive. At the same time, different regions of the planet—from Australia to Mali to Iran—have recorded unprecedented heatwaves, with historic temperature records, causing an increase in hospitalizations and deaths, as well as serious effects on agricultural production and the availability of water and energy.
Perhaps the United States or Pakistan feels far away. Sometimes what happens far away seems almost unreal to us. However, Spain is not immune to this reality. Without even referring to very recent events, according to Spain’s State Meteorological Agency (AEMET), more than 32 million people are already directly suffering the consequences of climate change. Over the past four decades, there has been an expansion of semi-arid climates, summers have lengthened by five weeks compared to the 1980s (not vacations), tropical nights and heatwaves have increased, and the surface temperature of the Mediterranean Sea has risen by 0.34 °C per decade. Again, data such as water temperature may seem not very relevant, but between 2000 and 2020, 1,072 people in Spain lost their lives due to climate-related natural disasters: according to data, 297 deaths were due to high temperatures, 215 to floods, 179 to coastal storms, 124 to wildfires, and 112 to strong winds. Between 2019 and 2023, storms, floods, and landslides also caused 15,000 internal displacements in the country.
The changes linked to climate change especially affect large cities and the Mediterranean coast. That is, not all territories are equally affected (though none escape), just as not all people are affected in the same way. Among those most vulnerable to climate change and its effects, international data repeatedly confirm that older adults are the most affected in disaster situations. During Hurricane Katrina, twenty years ago, 71% of those who died were over 60 years old, even though they made up only 15% of the population. In Japan’s 2011 earthquake and tsunami, more than half of the fatalities were 65 or older. During France’s 2003 heatwave, which caused 14,802 deaths, most were people over 65. And during Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico (2017), 82.6% of the deaths were among those 65 or older, even though they made up only one-fifth of the population. In other words: older adults die in greater numbers during climate crises.
We also have recent examples in Spain. In the floods in Valencia, there were 216 deaths, and among them, more than half—104 people—were aged 70 or older, even though they represented only 15% of the population in the affected municipalities. Fifteen of the victims were over 90, showing the disproportionate mortality among the oldest age groups. Many of these deaths occurred in ground-floor homes that flooded quickly, mostly affecting people with limited mobility who could not be evacuated in time. It seems we are not prepared to protect older adults from disasters associated with climate change.
The reason older adults are the most affected and have higher mortality rates (though they are not the only ones, that’s not what I’m saying) lies in a combination of factors: reduced mobility, pre-existing health conditions, dependence on medication, economic limitations, or living alone; even loneliness or a lack of social support networks that might help them prepare for a catastrophe reduce their ability to respond. The misinformation we are exposed to doesn’t help either; certain TV programs focus on fearmongering about certain events (often those that benefit alarm companies) but don’t take care to protect their older viewers by, for example, explaining what to do in specific situations or warning them in advance. Sometimes it’s a “boy who cried wolf” situation—they’re scared so often that they may not believe it when the danger is real. If we add to that the lack of proper evacuation plans, the result is much higher mortality among those who were already vulnerable before the disaster.
In short, climate change multiplies pre-existing inequalities. As I mentioned in another post, not everyone has the same ability to escape a heatwave in an unventilated apartment, to afford an air conditioner, or to rebuild their home after a flood. In this context, age, health, gender, and socioeconomic status intertwine to determine who suffers the most from the impacts—and who can recover best.
We need to protect the most vulnerable people from possible disasters that, as we’ve recently seen, also strike our own communities. In the case of older adults, this means including them in emergency plans, ensuring accessible early-warning systems, providing adapted housing, and promoting community support. Because vulnerability is not inevitable: it is socially constructed, and it can be reduced with the right public policies, strong social services, and a climate justice approach that acknowledges inequality in risk. Recalling Klinenberg’s research on the Chicago heatwave, reinforcing the value of community—by promoting neighborhood and community care networks—can be key to saving lives. Perhaps another day we should discuss Klinenberg’s findings in more detail, but here I wanted to emphasize that older adults are on the front line of climate vulnerability. The question we should ask is not whether there will be new heatwaves, fires, or floods, but how we prepare as a society so that the most vulnerable do not pay the highest price.
