Oh, so suddenly after all.
Suddenly politicians discover that heat is dangerous. That cities no longer cool down at night. That elderly people collapse, children suffer, and apartments turn into concrete ovens. Welcome to 2026 — glad you finally stopped by.
While people in Rennes sit on park benches at night because their bedrooms have become unbearably hot, somewhere committees are still discussing “long-term climate strategies.” Long-term. That word now sounds like sheer mockery.
Climate change is no longer at the doorstep. It has long since arrived in the living room, consuming power from fans and stealing our sleep.
And yet many responsible parties still behave as if it were just a somewhat longer weather phase. A few drinking fountains here, a bit of spray mist there — and the municipal fig leaf is ready. Of course, such measures help in the short term. No question. But by now they seem like band-aids on an open wound.
The truth is: for decades there has been talking, postponing, relativizing. It was repeatedly said that the economy must not be overburdened, citizens must not be unsettled, industry must not be pressured. Strangely, entire cities are now overwhelmed — by temperatures that were previously considered rare exceptions.
And now? Now parks are opened at night.
That is humanly sensible. But at the same time a depressing symbol. Because if people have to seek refuge in parks at night at the end of May in Brittany, something has gone seriously wrong for a long time.
The political double standards appear particularly absurd. The very same voices that dismissed climate protection for years as hysterical or “too expensive” now present heat-related emergency measures as a great innovation. Bravo. Really. Maybe next we will discover that trees provide shade.
The sarcasm is hard because the situation is already dead serious.
Because the coming summers will be harsher. Cities will continue heating up, water will become scarcer, extreme weather events more frequent. All of this has been in scientific reports for years. No one can claim to have been surprised. The only surprise is perhaps the persistence with which politics still tries to downplay the obvious.
People have long noticed that something is changing. Not in some models. But at night in their own beds. When looking at dried-up green spaces. Feeling like they can’t get enough air even though the sun has long set.
How many tropical nights will it actually take until expressions of concern finally turn into real action?
Or is one seriously waiting until eventually even the last air-conditioned conference rooms become too hot?