How America's hottest city is trying to cool down

I'm looking at a map of surface temperatures in the Phoenix metro area. So this is in Arizona, in the southwest US and it shows how hot the ground is in June. And this is a map of child poverty rates. Darker blue means more poverty. So this is heat. And this is poverty. Heat. Poverty. Heat, Poverty. The correlation is pretty obvious. This is where it becomes clear that climate change and wealth inequality are not really separate issues. And you can probably find examples of that wherever you go in the world, but for this story, I went to Phoenix to see how they're dealing with an increase in heat-related deaths.

Climate change is one factor causing rising temperatures. Urban development is the other. The forecasted high that day was 112 degrees Fahrenheit, but in reality some areas can feel warmer or cooler than that. So here I am in a neighborhood with some of the hottest surface temperatures, but when I drove 8 miles north of there, I was in one of the coolest parts of Phoenix. And it was in the hot neighborhood where I met up with Eva Olivas. She's a local community advocate and Phoenix native. It's nice to meet you. Certainly! Here's a rewritten version.

In addressing the sweltering heat of our cityscape, various measures have been taken, such as employing reflective roofs and coatings on roads. Yet, a closer look reveals that the stark contrast in temperature between neighborhoods doesn’t solely stem from surface colors; it's the presence of greenery that stands out. Studies have consistently emphasized the unparalleled cooling effect of trees compared to reflective surfaces. Trees serve as the linchpin connecting heat distribution and socio-economic maps. They offer an array of benefits—cooling the air, curbing carbon footprints, reducing stress levels, managing stormwater, and trimming energy expenses. Research from Arizona State University confirms that an area transformed by a quarter of green cover experiences an impressive 8 degrees Fahrenheit or 4.4 degrees Celsius drop in air temperature. This shade's impact is especially remarkable in arid climates like ours, where the relief from the heat is palpable. Recognizing this, the city of Phoenix is funneling resources into a tree-planting initiative, aiming to ensure every neighborhood reaches a baseline canopy cover by 2030. However, a challenge remains. Beyond parks and main thoroughfares, the urban forest heavily relies on private upkeep rather than public support. To transform streets into the tree-lined avenues found in affluent areas requires a shift. For instance, trees planted in residential areas demand individual maintenance from homeowners. This raises questions about community engagement and equitable access to cooling resources in our city.

In residential areas, the city doesn't take responsibility for maintaining trees. Some utility companies offer free trees for homeowners who agree to plant them strategically for energy savings, particularly on the west or south side of their homes. However, this doesn't address the ongoing upkeep challenge. There's a delicate balance between enjoying shade and managing increased water bills. The maintenance costs pose a significant hurdle, especially in low-income neighborhoods where prioritizing this expense isn't feasible for many families, particularly renters. Eva and I strolled along Buckeye Road, noting a large, empty lot owned by the city, left barren. Eva mentioned that this might change with the city's new tree equity plans. However, she highlighted more fundamental needs—like sidewalks and shade structures at bus stops. It's a stark reminder that access to infrastructure, even the non-water-reliant kind, is influenced by wealth disparities. For cities like Phoenix to alleviate the harshest impacts of climate change, they must ensure that the most vulnerable aren't left bearing the brunt of these challenges, necessitating broader structural changes.