Extreme heat is an occupational hazard

To the anonymous workers who sweat every day to keep our economies going.

In Mérida, every summer, we hear about people hospitalized due to heatstroke. Power outages are frequent in the summer, and in my neighborhood, more than once, someone had to be rushed to the hospital because they couldn’t breathe properly. If this happens to those of us who live and work indoors, what happens to those who work outside?

In Mexico, millions do. In recent months, I’ve spoken with outdoor workers across the country. These are some of the stories that stayed with me. In Yucatán, Pedro pours concrete on sun-scorched streets where temperatures exceed 113°F (45 °C). He told me he now suffers weekly migraines that never used to happen. In Sonora, Sandra cleans windows on metal rooftops that can reach temperatures of over 122°F (50°C). Her doctor attributes recent disruptions to her menstrual cycle to prolonged heat exposure. In Veracruz, a day laborer collapsed after working eight consecutive hours under direct sunlight, without access to shade or breaks. These are not exceptions. They are the new normal in a country that is warming faster than the global average. So why are we still treating this as a minor issue?

What’s not measured also matters. Many deaths linked to heat are never registered as such. In Mexico, underreporting of heat-related fatalities is severe and can be as deadly as the heat itself. Waiting for irrefutable data or tragic headlines to act is absurd. We already live in a country where heat is a labor risk.

What’s not measured also matters. Many deaths linked to heat are never registered as such. In Mexico, underreporting of heat-related fatalities is severe and can be as deadly as the heat itself. In 2023, Europe saw nearly 47,700 excess deaths due to heat across 35 countries, and in the U.S., heat-related fatalities hit a record 2,300+ deaths, the highest in 45 years. In contrast, regions like Mexico report only a small fraction of this toll, despite facing similar or worse conditions. So, are Europeans or Americans more vulnerable to heat? Or are we simply not counting the deaths? Waiting for irrefutable data or tragic headlines to act is absurd. We already live in a world where heat is a labor risk.

The evidence is clear: above 35 °C (95 °F), productivity declines. At 40 °C (104 °F), it can drop by as much as 50%. According to the ILO, by 2030, heat stress is expected to cost the equivalent of 80 million full-time jobs globally, primarily in agriculture and construction. Globally, this could result in a GDP loss of up to 6.7% in the most exposed regions. Small businesses (the backbone of our economy) depend on this workforce and have no financial buffer to adapt. They, too, are seeing their operations, revenues, and stability increasingly threatened. Yet, less than 7% of global climate finance is directed toward adaptation, and we continue to treat heat as something to simply “endure.”

This type of work can’t be done remotely or outsourced to AI. It literally sustains our industries, food systems, services, and commerce. And it’s largely done by people in vulnerable conditions. For women, the exposure is double that of men. They work in unsafe conditions and take on unpaid care responsibilities that intensify during heatwaves. Some studies show that women can lose up to 19% of their paid working hours and add up to 90 minutes of unpaid domestic labor during these events.

The good news: solutions exist. In Dubai, industrial parks now monitor real-time worker heat exposure using thermal sensors that automatically adjust shifts. In Japan, new reflective materials are reducing indoor temperatures without relying on energy-intensive air conditioning. In South Korea, delivery workers wear cooling vests that help regulate body temperature and prevent illness. In India, the Self-Employed Women’s Association (SEWA) launched Extreme Heat Income Insurance in 2023, covering thousands of informal women workers, including waste collectors, street vendors, and salt pan workers in Gujarat. This parametric insurance automatically disburses payments when temperature thresholds are exceeded, eliminating the need for a medical claim. For women working through prolonged exposure without breaks, this can help offset daily income losses of 40–50%.

There are countless tech and financial solutions ready to scale: smart hydration backpacks, mobile cooling stations, parametric insurance, predictive heat-risk modeling, and credit lines for workplace adaptation infrastructure. There are also proposals for thermal emergency savings accounts and multi-stakeholder partnerships between startups, construction companies, and local governments.

The Global South has what it takes to lead, not just as a user of these solutions, but as a producer. Local entrepreneurs and innovators are more than capable of adapting, designing, and deploying affordable, scalable products to mitigate the impact of heat. What’s missing is political and financial will. Backing these solutions isn’t just about protecting workers, it’s about protecting national productivity. Why shouldn’t emerging economies become global leaders in climate-smart occupational health and safety? Why not unlock new financing, partner with startups, and scale an ecosystem of innovation for heat resilience?

It’s also a way to avoid labor lawsuits, regulatory sanctions, and reputational risks. But above all, it’s an ethical obligation. We cannot keep building an economy on exhausted, dehydrated, and unprotected bodies. 

Ignoring this reality makes us silent accomplices in a tragedy that is still preventable. We have the technology, the talent, and the ideas. What we lack is the resolve. And that starts with refusing to look away while extreme heat is already claiming lives.