https://www.city-journal.org/cities-hire-chief-heat-officers-to-address-climate-concerns
As the size and scope of government in America grows, cities are rapidly inventing new job titles. Recent examples: the algorithms management and policy officer, the director of digital equity, and the building decarbonization incentives manager—all real jobs. Now add to that list what is likely to be the hottest (pun intended) new job title at city hall: chief heat officer (CHO), also variously known as the extreme-weather coordinator or chief weather-resilience officer. If you’re surprised by these seemingly ludicrous titles, you haven’t been paying attention to the extent to which mainstream media run alarmist stories of soaring temperatures and their impact on urban life. They’ve helped turn the CHO, a job barely a year old, into a new staple of local government. These newly minted bureaucrats will make it their business to enumerate the impact of heat on the local population—an effect certain to increase now that government is counting it—and seek ways to mitigate it.
One phrase that you’re unlikely to hear much from these new bureaucrats: “air conditioning.” Warm-weather-related deaths dropped precipitously over the last century around much of the industrialized world largely because what we fondly term AC became widely available. But air conditioning demands electricity, most often powered by fossil fuels or nuclear energy, two increasingly unseemly phrases within government circles in places like California, where cities are rushing to hire CHOs. So instead, it seems, the job of these new bureaucrats will be to find carbon-neutral solutions to summer in the city.
The rise of the CHO has just reached a notable milestone: heat officers from cities around the world recently gathered for an Extreme Heat Resilience Conference in Washington, D.C.—a place that, before the invention of air conditioning, was so uncomfortable in the summer that British diplomats assigned there could draw tropical-assignment bonus pay. Much on the minds of the CHOs assembled in Washington was a new alarmist report on the impact of heat on cities, which begins, “The world is burning. Unfortunately, that’s not an exaggeration.” (Actually, it is.) Consumed by the report’s warnings, CHOs plan a series of initiatives, one of which revolves around a popular new phrase in urbanism: “tree canopy,” referring to how much tree shade exists in a neighborhood. CHOs are looking to expand their cities’ tree canopies, though they will have to do so judiciously—studies show that tree shade is not evenly distributed in many municipalities, where poorer neighborhoods have apparently been shortchanged. In fact, Syracuse is spending $2 million in federal grant money to survey its tree canopy and increase natural shade in underserved neighborhoods, with the apparent intent of righting past shading wrongs.
