When I wrapped the soaked bandana around my dog\u2019s neck, it was still crunchy from the freezer. But now we\u2019ve walked past two houses, and it’s gone limp in the heat. Soon, it\u2019ll be dry. I try sticking to shady sidewalks, but Penny wants to cross the street. She\u2019s old, and she\u2019s sick, so she\u2019s set in her ways. I lift her 30-pound body into my arms so her paws don\u2019t burn on the asphalt, and we cross. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Returning to the house, I pass a young dogwood. Its leaves are brown. You can\u2019t just pick up a tree to save it from the sun. I walk up the stairs to the porch. In a corner, where robins have built a nest, the hatchlings\u2019 heads are raised, mouths agape. They\u2019re not hungry; birds can\u2019t sweat. Like dogs, they pant to cool down. I can hardly breathe in the still, damp air. I doubt the birds can either. I set up a fan in front of the nest and mist water into the air. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside, the air conditioning unit in my living room window is exhaling mildew and blasting deafening decibels. I\u2019m agitated. I want to escape. Hummed into a stupor, I walk to the window and just stare out. The panting robins, the sunburned dogwood: Better them than me, I think. But why does it have to feel that way? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This story is a collection of very real moments from my life this June in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. That month saw back-to-back days of 100-degree heat, and the following July in the Triangle was the hottest on record<\/a>. I once preferred summer over winter. Now I dread the summers too, which are lasting almost two weeks longer<\/a> than they did when I was a child. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think about the robins, and the dogwood, which can live to about 80. Will it make it to 2100? Will it be happy to die off just before the worst? <\/p>\n\n\n\n The latest North Carolina Climate Science Report predicts<\/a> that by 2100, the state will heat up 2 to 6 degrees Fahrenheit, or 6 to 10, depending on what the world does starting now to curb emissions. We\u2019ll see more humidity, which means \u201cmore days with dangerously high heat index values,\u201d North Carolina climate scientists have warned<\/a>. Cities, with paved surfaces that trap heat, will be the hottest. And because extreme heat is the leading<\/a> cause of weather-related injury and death, it\u2019s a serious public health threat, especially in cities, where most people live. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Thinking back on that June day, I multiply the misery. Must the future be so grim? <\/p>\n\n\n\n In September, I sat down with three experts and found my answer. Over Zoom, I spoke with Celen Pasalar<\/a>, an urban designer and architect with expertise in community and environmental design, Steve Frank<\/a>, an entomologist and plant pathologist working with urban forests and Ginger Krieg Dosier<\/a>, an architect and biotech entrepreneur<\/a> working with microbes. Urban heat islands are real, and it will be hot, they assured me. Even if humanity manages to curb emissions by 2050, we\u2019ll have to deal with extreme heat. But in design, history, trees, innovative technology and reimagining what we think defines a city, we can uncover clues to how we might thrive in a warmer world. Perhaps in 2100, our descendants can enjoy the outdoor air on a summer day and not be bothered by the thought of trading places with an old dog, a bird or a tree.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The following interview, conducted as part of the <\/em>Long View Project<\/em><\/a>, was edited for clarity. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n JoAnna Klein: In this conversation about urban heat, I want us to try to take a more-than-human perspective. By this I just mean, let\u2019s still consider humans, and let\u2019s also think about the other living systems and species that are part of the built environment.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s start with you, Steve because you work with <\/em><\/strong>urban forests<\/em><\/strong><\/a>. Just the sound of that seems to bridge the gap between city and nature. But what exactly is an urban forest?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Steve Frank: <\/strong>All the trees contained within in an urban area are generally considered the urban forest of that area. That’s the street trees, the trees in people’s yards, the trees in cemeteries, patches of remnant forest [parts of old forests that remain in urban areas throughout development], vacant lots that have grown up with trees. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And so working with urban forests, what are you trying to do or find out?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Largely I deal with street trees and trees and landscapes that aren’t part of a forest or remnant forest. Part of my job is helping people manage those trees. I think the biggest thing is trying to get people to put the right trees in the right place. The design component and what people envision artistically in their head doesn’t always line up with the species that should be in a particular spot. You get trees that can’t stand particular areas put in those places. You know, they\u2019re specified on a plan to be put there, either because of the way they look or their form, or just because they’re cheap. And so then somebody has to manage that tree and protect it from pests and drought and all those things for the rest of its life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Who makes those choices in a city? Are they developers? City Hall? Does it vary?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Well, it varies. Typically, most of the development is commercial, and so those are landscape designers and landscape architects who spec what goes in what spot. But sometimes that all gets thrown out the window when they overrun their budget and just buy the cheapest thing they can find.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Celen Pasalar: <\/strong>If I may add to Steve’s excellent explanation, an urban design perspective. Historically, we always detached ourselves from nature as we were shaping our built environment, and we always thought about people being the dominant thing. First, we got rid of nature, I would say, particularly from the city centers. And now we’re seeing the impact of practicing that way with the changing climatic conditions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We are trying to reverse it, actually. But for a while, as we have been trying to reverse it, bringing in nature, particularly trees, tree canopies, other types of ground-level vegetation and so forth, we still have been trying to control nature in a way, like deciding how much of it to bring in and where it may be considered. But I think the trend is now shifting towards co-creating with nature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are seeing these exemplar, unique things happening \u2013 good or bad. I mean, we still have to study how things are performing. But what we see in Singapore<\/a>, Copenhagen<\/a>, or these sort of cities<\/a>, they’re already modeling this co-creation with nature and trying to integrate the ecological systems, the green infrastructure, particularly, trees and different types of vegetation, into urban fabric.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ginger Krieg Dosier:<\/strong> Something to add here that relates to trees and forests and the urban environment: We’ve taken a strong interest lately in the microbiome of the built environment<\/a>, but that also includes the external spaces as well. For example, we\u2019re looking at what vegetation is present that can be bioreceptive surfaces <\/a>for microbial biodiversity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Some statistics just blow my mind. Indoor air is far less diverse than forest or outdoor air; indoor samples typically contain hundreds of microbial types, whereas forest air can contain thousands. And some of those microbes, we’ve evolved with. There are lots of different effects that microbes have on our health in a positive, very, very positive way. Without them, we would die. In looking at the selections of materials and the selections of plants in homes and cities, all of those are really part of that entire ecosystem and the relationships working to support it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are some recent developments looking at pocket forests<\/a> and the aerobiome<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pocket forests are small areas of densely packed trees that can store carbon and rainfall, improve soil health and support lots of species. There\u2019s more to it, but that\u2019s the gist. But what do you mean by the aerobiome? The microbes in the air?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: Yes. I mean, it’s the highway for microbes to travel across our planet, and having a healthy microbiome in a city<\/a>? That’s certainly something that I see as a future. <\/p>\n\n\n\n A lot more interest is growing in that. It’s about selecting the right species of plants that are adapted to that particular environment, and maybe even cleaning up some toxins while we’re at it, considering we have a lot to clean up as humanity. But then also, what does that mean for the smallest of the smalls that are there too, that are part of that city?<\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: Adding to that, from a people perspective, in Japan, for example, there is this concept of forest bathing<\/a>. And it’s all about mindfulness, how you go about mitigating your stress from regular, particularly urban<\/a>, living. It promotes mental wellness, and there are physical benefits<\/a> too. It’s part of the conversations<\/a> going on. When you think about the integration of trees in cities, you know, forests being available, existing in those environments, while they mitigate extreme heat and humidity and those kinds of things, the benefits<\/a> go beyond all of this and positively impact people too.<\/p>\n\n\n “Having a healthy microbiome in a city<\/a>? That’s certainly something that I see as a future.”<\/p>\n <\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s get into extreme heat. It\u2019s kind of hard to think about the extreme and prolonged heat we\u2019ll be facing in the year 2100, so let\u2019s start with what we know now. Tell me about the hottest day that you’ve experienced. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: It was actually this July when I was back at home in Cyprus. We literally have seen 50, 52, degrees Celsius [that\u2019s 122, 125.6 Fahrenheit]. How it felt coming out of the building, stepping just briefly outside, hard surfaces were… I felt that my skin was cooking. Literally, I felt the burn. I didn’t have to stay there long to change color. Just at that second, I’m not exaggerating, red spots appeared all over me. I was burning very quickly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And the feel of it, I mean, it was very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. I’m in my 50s, but I was hardly dealing with it, let alone my parents, who are in their 80s now. It was unbearable for everyone \u2013 even the younger ages. It’s an issue. When everything is covered in hard surfaces like asphalt and concrete, the temperature is not just from the atmosphere heating up. Temperature is added as a result of all the materials around us. It’s going to be a big problem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Yeah, the <\/em><\/strong>urban heat island<\/em><\/strong><\/a> effect. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n What, Celen, were people doing differently when you were in Cypress? Where were people hanging out?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: Well, being an island, and the proximity to the beach, obviously, a lot of people were trying to feel a little bit of comfort being out at the beach, close to water. But that was problematic too. You cannot really stay under the sun, even when you’re in water. And with the Mediterranean water by the shore, how shallow it is, the water itself gets very hot too. So some people were trying to find comfort that way, although it wasn’t the exact solution. But a lot of times [they sought it] inside buildings. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But again, with the conditions of the buildings, particularly older infrastructure, they’re not fitted or designed in a way to really bear that kind of heat. You’re looking at no centralized cooling system inside the buildings. People are trying to install cooling room by room, relying on technology, basically. But when your energy infrastructure is not sufficient to handle all that at the same time, you are dealing with the electricity going off. And when there’s such heat, it’s a problem. So that’s where technology kicked in with, like, already charged fans and all that. Very primitive solutions, perhaps. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think it’s going to be one of the biggest challenges for most of the global cities, particularly Europe and the Middle East, with older city infrastructure in place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Yeah. I think not the hottest temperature I’ve experienced, but probably some of the most uncomfortable was in eastern France and Strasbourg. Several years ago, they had a heat wave throughout Europe. I think some days it was 105, 106 [Fahrenheit] in Strasbourg. And, I mean, I’ve been hotter than that in deserts and tropical places, but there, like Celen said, there’s no infrastructure. Our hotel didn’t have air conditioning. We were on the 10th floor of a 400-year-old building, and our room was still 100 degrees throughout the whole night. You couldn’t even go to restaurants or museums. They didn\u2019t have air conditioning. There was just no escape from it, and that made it more challenging. You know, when I lived in Texas, everybody just stayed inside. But there, it’s worse inside \u2013 and so people go outside to try and sit in the shade or find a breeze or something. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think throughout Europe, it’s much different, because they just don’t have the acclimation to it, or the air conditioning or infrastructure. It’s always hot here, so we’re kind of used to it. When I was in Thailand recently, yeah, it was hot, but you expect it to be hot, right? It didn’t even phase you, because of course it’s hot<\/em>. This summer in France, in the Alps, it [felt like 100] in the afternoons. In Montpellier, it was 104, 105. And same thing — no air conditioning. This was another heat wave that had gone through Europe. People die, you know? <\/p>\n\n\n\n [A side note here: Since this interview was conducted, Imperial College London released<\/a> an early analysis of mortality across 854 European cities during the region\u2019s last heat wave. Of 24,400 heat-related deaths between June and August this year, media widely reported<\/a> September 17, epidemiologists estimated that around two thirds, or 16,500, would have been spared in a world without the extra warming from burning fossil fuels.] <\/p>\n\n\n\n So two things sort of spoke to me with what you were saying. Hot nights and expectations. We need chances to cool our bodies down from heat. And then, it doesn\u2019t feel as hot when you know it’s going to be hot. So if we think about North Carolina in the future, and even now with those extended two weeks of summer, the hotter nights: These are things we should start thinking about or preparing for. Even if that\u2019s just adjusting our own expectations. Or maybe we think of more ways to cool down. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Celen, in your work with extreme heat and human health, what are you seeing?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: The largest immediate health effect is cardiovascular<\/a>. We’re seeing, actually, that it\u2019s even impacting the younger<\/a> age groups. In the past, the concern was always the elderly, particularly 65 years old and plus, and then, the younger kids. But now, even in the mid range, we are seeing everyone, pretty much being impacted. The problem is heat stress and related strokes, and that’s becoming more widespread. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Right. Heat causes dehydration, exhaustion, stroke. When it\u2019s hot, our heart rate increases so we can sweat and cool down. That\u2019s taxing work. After more than a couple hours, our bodies get tired, start wearing down, and we can\u2019t cool off. So inescapable heat is really dangerous. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: And also, in that kind of climatic condition, you’re kind of stuck in one environment, and a lot of times indoors, if that is the most comfortable place. And some homes have just one air conditioner, cooling one room. So you are inside your home, in one room. For a lot of people, that means isolation, and that’s creating loneliness, depression. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Yeah. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. So say our quick solution is, oh, everybody has air conditioning, and maybe we fixed the grid so we don’t have blackouts. Great. But how much more time are we going to spend indoors? Besides the isolation, I wonder about air conditioners, the microbes that are inside \u2013 <\/em><\/strong>air quality<\/em><\/strong><\/a>. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I keep thinking about how I hate summer in Raleigh. I have window air conditioning units. The air is loud. Sometimes it smells. I worry the unit isn\u2019t draining properly. It’s growing mold and just blowing it all over me. It can’t be healthy. Like, I wait for the day where it’s cool, and I can open my door. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Is there a way to bring those healthy forest microbes inside for the days we can\u2019t avoid it? If we have to spend more time indoors, how do we make that better?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: I hear you about your air conditioner. It is kind of scary sometimes, when you start taking these things apart and exposing pathogens or other microbes or mold that has colonized those areas because of the poor design. Obviously we didn’t know what we didn’t know years ago, when we were designing our homes and our built environment to be clean. Now we know clean doesn’t necessarily mean good. Clean<\/em> also can take the good, commensal bacteria from our environment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then, Raleigh is just such an interesting place, speaking from an architecture perspective. The humidity here, you have to design pretty hard around what that airflow looks like, materials and breathability. In my perspective, our built environment just does not breathe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Steve, you mentioned going to France. I was in London during that heat wave, and it was awful. And I lived in the Middle East for seven years in Dubai, which was very, very humid, but, you know, it has lots of air conditioning, like, let’s just design for this continual climb on energy use<\/em>. Whereas, when you look at vernacular architecture<\/a>, at the past, before we had air conditioning, buildings breathe better. You actually were able to take in the outside air, and with the outside air come microbes too. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s almost like pick your poison. Inside or outside. Healthy or sick. Waste energy or be hot. Do we have to choose?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: There are a couple of different ways to increase the microbial biodiversity by having more porosity and also, adding those microbes into the environment. Or just, you know, planting more plants that can host those microbes. Your Monstera that I see in the background is a very good host for microbial biodiversity. So that’s a good start.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Seeding and colonizing the built environment is certainly a big part of our work, looking at the microbes that we’re missing or have lost over time. There are a lot of interesting things that can be done on the microbial add<\/em>, if you will. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Like what?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: People are coming up with interesting ideas about how to prevent black mold in the first place. But what can we do if that’s already there? Maybe there’s a species or strain of microbes that goes and attacks the black mold. There are all kinds of fun things to think about within that. I certainly think that microbial biodiversity is a new source of material innovation that can be explored for answering, how do we survive and thrive in our future?<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are microbes that can consume VOCs. [That\u2019s volatile organic compounds<\/a>. These are typically chemicals in the air, some bad for our health, that can be up to ten times higher indoors, where they\u2019re released from everything from cleaning or craft supplies to furniture to the wood in your walls.] <\/p>\n\n\n\n Celen, you pointed out [mental health]. That’s very much what we’re working on. Some microbes, for example, actually enable different pathways in humans, through tryptophan, to increase serotonin<\/a>. Psychobiotics<\/a> is an emerging field of study looking at the potential for microbes to help treat things like depression<\/a>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n So, going back outdoors. We\u2019ve known cities were heat islands for millenia. In Roman times, for instance, streets paved in dark stone got so hot that architects started calling for narrower streets that would be less exposed to direct sun. Ancient Persia had <\/em><\/strong>wind catchers<\/em><\/strong><\/a> and qanat systems. Seville, Spain is actually <\/em><\/strong>resurrecting<\/em><\/strong><\/a> this underground water cooling system to try to lower temperatures in a part of the city. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n With air conditioning, we kind of forgot about these types of old design tricks for keeping cool, but our memory is slowly returning. We can\u2019t rebuild everything and expect an ancient problem to disappear. So what can we take from the past to help our buildings and cities breathe?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: I mean, our building infrastructure can<\/em> be more breathable. Ginger touched on materials and openings. There\u2019s also passive designs like orienting and courtyards to benefit from the breeze as much as possible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m not against technological interventions and innovations, but with all of those evolutions, we started shifting away from those basic principles. In the past, I think there was more consciousness, to some extent, beyond just materials, with the green infrastructure around us, too. And as all these things were taken out, we ended up with these bare, hard surfaces that are now challenging us. <\/p>\n\n\n “In the past, I think there was more consciousness … with the green infrastructure around us. And as all these things were taken out, we ended up with these bare, hard surfaces that are now challenging us.”<\/p>\n <\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s pause on green infrastructure. It\u2019s a relatively simple beat-the-heat strategy that lots of cities are counting on. The City of Raleigh, for example, <\/em><\/strong>lists<\/em><\/strong><\/a> tree planting and maintenance alongside green stormwater infrastructure as top projects for mitigating extreme heat. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: I think we should continue investing in greening our outdoor environments because what we feel indoors, it’s going to rely on also what exists outdoors. We haven\u2019t started our work yet, but, currently on campus an international group from multiple universities is coming together to work on modeling that [how indoor and outdoor design choices may interact]. It will help us design better because we can predict how designed environments can perform better, like providing more comfortable conditions indoors and being more efficient with energy use.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the meantime, I appreciate some of the cities that are already investing in greening efforts, not just on the outdoor ground level. We are seeing all this greening getting onto the buildings as vertical<\/a> surfaces. It\u2019s a unique example, but I always go back to Singapore<\/a>. They invested quite a bit. Milan<\/a> and other European cities have also started working with that idea. These are all experimental at this point. We need to understand the social, environmental, health and economic impacts of all of these implementations. <\/p>\n\n\n\n What else can greenery do?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CP: We touched on the tree canopies. But, water is a future too. Vegetation, to soak up too much water or preserve water when it\u2019s lacking, like bioswales<\/a> and rain gardens, can better become part of the streetscapes. They also help with the heat island effect and accommodate habitats, nurturing the ecosystem. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We need to be more careful about our corridors, too. As we continue to build, we start breaking these natural corridors, not just for the animals to move around, but for breezes also. Those corridors help us to cool down in a passive way. We\u2019re not looking at that larger picture of adding all those buildings and breaking all these natural corridors that could provide more breeze into our cities and air inside our buildings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n You have to orient buildings the right way to preserve those wind tunnels between them. And you can\u2019t move buildings you don\u2019t want to destroy. So say they\u2019ve broken a corridor, but we want to keep the buildings that broke it. Is it possible, Steve, to plant certain trees to maybe recreate lost corridors? <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: I don’t know anything about wind corridors or what makes them work, but yeah. There would be an opportunity to modify the treescape. If that was an important aspect of a particular city, then I’m sure that could be accommodated. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There are probably some places that are more important for trees than others: playgrounds, for instance, so kids don\u2019t burn their little legs on the sliding board. And who wants to even go to a playground if the travel from your house is not shaded? That’s another kind of corridor that\u2019s important for addressing obesity and other health crises. Well, who wants to leave their house and walk in the blazing sun so their kids can exercise on what\u2019s just a hot playground? <\/p>\n\n\n\n For better quality of life and getting people out of their houses, there are some pretty simple things you can do. We\u2019re not going to encase whole cities in tree canopy, but you can make it better for certain activities or particularly terrible, terrible situations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That leads me to another thing. Trees are great, but what if they\u2019re not enough? Even in a neighborhood with maybe hundreds of huge oak trees, the streets still baked this summer, and my dog couldn\u2019t cross them. What can we do about really hot streets? Maybe fabric shades, certain material or other vegetation? Or to take it to the extreme: Could we ever replace all those blacktops with dirt?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: I mean, definitely dirt, or soil, would be the best. But there are some issues. <\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Yeah. That creates its own problems. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Well, what is the problem? Why can’t we?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: Well, because it would wash away, blow \u2013 the design of how we leverage the roads, and the infrastructure doesn’t match anymore on that. I think it’s going to come down to the lightest touch. What’s something that’s simple and cheap? That’s really the only way to scale. Maybe it’s some advanced additive or something that can be applied on top of the road. <\/p>\n\n\n\n At Biomason, we worked on developing dust control technologies, leveraging microorganisms to make a very thin layer of biocement in mines, so you don\u2019t get all the dust. Maybe there’s something similar to that, that can reflect the heat. Or there\u2019s some type of layer in between [things]. There is a lot of science, a lot of things to figure out, but we can’t just tear it all down. I mean, if we have to rebuild, that means something else bad happened. So, what can we do to adjust our aging infrastructure, not just literally, but aging because it\u2019s out of date based on our needs?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I noticed this summer we started using “feels like” to tell others how hot it was outside. Even in weather reports. \u201cFeels like\u201d accounts for temperature and humidity \u2013 because sweating and evaporation doesn\u2019t cool as well in air that\u2019s already wet. I also noticed plants burning in the sun. So if you could pick out the species that we would have in our city in 2100, when it’s hotter, more humid, and it \u201cfeels like\u201d 120 degrees or a steaming hot sauna, with flash floods and periods of drought \u2013 what would you pick? <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: It’s probably not as hard as it seems. I think sometimes we have a tendency to think that what our city will look like will be so unique that we have to come up with a very special solution. People say like, oh, well, in 2100 Raleigh’s gonna feel like Tampa<\/em>. Okay, well, let’s go see what grows in Tampa. <\/p>\n\n\n “We have a tendency to think that what our city will look like will be so unique that we have to come up with a very special solution. People say in 2100 Raleigh’s gonna feel like Tampa<\/em>. Okay, well, let’s go see what grows in Tampa.”<\/p>\n <\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n And is that what you do? <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: We don’t have to reinvent the wheel here, you know. There are models that can predict that our temperature and humidity and rainfall will approximate this other place. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Yeah. <\/em><\/strong>Contemporary analogs<\/em><\/strong><\/a> for future cities. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: So we can go and look at that place and say, okay, well, what species of plants can we begin to accommodate, or can we begin to install, now so that they’re big in 50 years? What species won’t quite survive our winter yet, but we should plan to maybe put those in in 10 years when — I’ve been here 17 years, and our USDA plant hardiness zone<\/a> has changed<\/a> twice, from 7a [in some parts] to 7b, and now it’s 8. We can go to other places, probably like Florida, and start to incorporate the plants and landscapes that they have and get out of the habit of [incorporating] the things that we commonly plant already that aren’t doing as well and will do worse in the future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I talked to others to research this topic, some compared the future Raleigh to Houston or New Orleans. And they have live oaks. Some are even growing now in more coastal areas of North Carolina. Could we get those? Are they expensive? Is that something that a city council is going to be like, oh, no. Why would we do that? We can just plant these other trees.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Well, everything’s money, right? More and more, everything’s money. Who’s going to pay for anything<\/em> that we want to change? And in building, I mentioned before, the landscape is the last thing to be done. So no matter what you plan to put in a landscape, when the developer has just pennies left, they say, oh, well, let’s scrap that, and just put in this other stuff<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In Houston, live oaks are probably cheap because they grow lots of them. Here, they’re expensive because we don’t grow any of them, but nurseries will start to grow them as the need arises. Also, we have the technology to move things around in a way that we didn’t used to, and so if it’s cheap to grow things, [they\u2019re grown]. I mean, I’m getting a couple hundred plants from Thailand this afternoon. They’re here in three days. Like, no big deal. A lot of our tropical plants and things [we find today at garden centers] are grown in Central America, and people don’t even realize. <\/p>\n\n\n\n GKD: Steve, your story reminds me of John Chapman, Johnny Appleseed<\/a> [who planted orchards just ahead of settlers moving west at the turn of the 19th century]. These are emerging needs, so maybe there’s something we can do from an entrepreneurship type level. And, you know, just like everything in life, it takes time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n If you replaced all of the trees that are in Raleigh now with live oaks, what would that be like?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: It would be pretty similar to what it is now. Where I live just north of campus, we’ve got hundreds of Willow Oaks, a closely related species. They were planted 80 years ago when this neighborhood was built, and now they’re all starting to come down. On my street, there used to be 40, and now there’s 15. <\/p>\n\n\n\n They’re just old?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Yeah. They’re just aging out. They were planted two feet from the curb 80 years ago and they’ve just reached the end of their \u2013 in nature, they would have lived to 500 years, but they just can’t. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think there are a lot of similar species, more tropical-type oaks that would maintain the feel of Raleigh, but be more adapted to future climates. We don’t necessarily have to plant palm trees. But then there’s some species and some genera that there’s just no tropical equivalent of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m thinking about yards now. Currently, there\u2019s a big push for more natural, critter-friendly lawns with native wildflowers. But with the zones shifting, some plants are migrating with them. So do we start planting the ones we think will migrate here now? And then, if so, how do we wrap our heads around, oh, that’s not native?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Well, yeah. I mean, most of what we plant is not native to begin with. A lot of what we plant comes from Florida. Look at some of the common landscape plants: oleander, crape myrtles, lantana. Walk through a Lowe’s and look at what the most available things are. Most of them aren’t native, and a lot of them are already kind of tropical.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But for people who want to maintain North Carolina native plants, which I enjoy too, some of those won’t make it. Some of them may do extra well. Heat isn’t always just bad. When I lived in Maryland, I had a lot of native plants. I had a plant called Canadian anemone, and it was native in Maryland and up into Canada, of course. When I moved, I brought all this stuff with me, and now it’s crazy. I can’t get rid of it because it grows so well. It\u2019s loving it. It doesn’t die back in the winter. It doesn’t have to struggle. It has actually become like an invasive because it’s been released from this climatic problem that it had.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So we could bring in tropical plants, but you’re saying we could also bring in ones from higher latitudes, but we’d have to be careful, or think about how some might super thrive.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Yeah. And we’ll know. Just as things warm up, we can look at our native flora and see which ones are doing better than they used to and which ones are doing worse. We can look to the south and see what’s doing well, and even between. Like you mentioned, between Raleigh and the coast, there’s a big difference in the plants that people use. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And the mountains. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: And the mountains, right? So the mountains might look to Raleigh, and we might look to Wilmington.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Celen Pasalar <\/strong>is an associate professor<\/a> in the Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning and extension coordinator<\/a> in the College of Design at NC State University. Her research is dedicated to fostering healthy, resilient communities by exploring how urban environments shape human health, behavior and well-being. Through her research program and urban design studios, she develops evidence-based solutions that reimagine the future of cities and strengthen the vitality of communities. Pasalar co-leads<\/a> the Climate Change and Health Disparities Research Initiative at the university\u2019s Global One Health Academy and is a licensed architect in her home country, Cyprus. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Insider recommendation: Start a journey through city design by checking out these books: Danish architect Jan Gehl’s “Cities for People<\/a>,” journalist Charles Montgomery’s “Happy City<\/a>” and sustainable city researcher Tim Beatley’s “Biophilic Cities<\/a>.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n Steve Frank <\/strong>is a professor<\/a> and extension specialist<\/a> in the Department of Entomology and Plant Pathology at NC State University, focusing on the effects of urbanization and climate change on tree and forest pests. His lab<\/a> conducts research and develops tree planting and maintenance recommendations for urban foresters, landscape architects and others managing urban forests. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Ginger Krieg Dosier <\/strong>is an architect, inventor and biotech entrepreneur<\/a> pioneering microbial innovation at planetary scale. She co-founded Biomason<\/a>, bringing bacteria-grown cement from concept to commercialization. Today she directs BIOME Consortia Institute<\/a>, a globally distributed nonprofit advancing microbial discovery, preservation and application. With an estimated<\/a> 99.999% of microbial life still undiscovered, her work builds the infrastructure to unlock these vast intelligences, aiming to uncover thousands to billions of microbial solutions by 2050. <\/p>\n This post was originally published<\/a> in Provost's Office News.<\/em><\/p>","protected":false,"raw":"\n\n\n\n\n When I wrapped the soaked bandana around my dog\u2019s neck, it was still crunchy from the freezer. But now we\u2019ve walked past two houses, and it's gone limp in the heat. Soon, it\u2019ll be dry. I try sticking to shady sidewalks, but Penny wants to cross the street. She\u2019s old, and she\u2019s sick, so she\u2019s set in her ways. I lift her 30-pound body into my arms so her paws don\u2019t burn on the asphalt, and we cross. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Returning to the house, I pass a young dogwood. Its leaves are brown. You can\u2019t just pick up a tree to save it from the sun. I walk up the stairs to the porch. In a corner, where robins have built a nest, the hatchlings\u2019 heads are raised, mouths agape. They\u2019re not hungry; birds can\u2019t sweat. Like dogs, they pant to cool down. I can hardly breathe in the still, damp air. I doubt the birds can either. I set up a fan in front of the nest and mist water into the air. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Inside, the air conditioning unit in my living room window is exhaling mildew and blasting deafening decibels. I\u2019m agitated. I want to escape. Hummed into a stupor, I walk to the window and just stare out. The panting robins, the sunburned dogwood: Better them than me, I think. But why does it have to feel that way? <\/p>\n\n\n\n This story is a collection of very real moments from my life this June in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. That month saw back-to-back days of 100-degree heat, and the following July in the Triangle was the hottest on record<\/a>. I once preferred summer over winter. Now I dread the summers too, which are lasting almost two weeks longer<\/a> than they did when I was a child. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think about the robins, and the dogwood, which can live to about 80. Will it make it to 2100? Will it be happy to die off just before the worst? <\/p>\n\n\n\n The latest North Carolina Climate Science Report predicts<\/a> that by 2100, the state will heat up 2 to 6 degrees Fahrenheit, or 6 to 10, depending on what the world does starting now to curb emissions. We\u2019ll see more humidity, which means \u201cmore days with dangerously high heat index values,\u201d North Carolina climate scientists have warned<\/a>. Cities, with paved surfaces that trap heat, will be the hottest. And because extreme heat is the leading<\/a> cause of weather-related injury and death, it\u2019s a serious public health threat, especially in cities, where most people live. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Thinking back on that June day, I multiply the misery. Must the future be so grim? <\/p>\n\n\n\n In September, I sat down with three experts and found my answer. Over Zoom, I spoke with Celen Pasalar<\/a>, an urban designer and architect with expertise in community and environmental design, Steve Frank<\/a>, an entomologist and plant pathologist working with urban forests and Ginger Krieg Dosier<\/a>, an architect and biotech entrepreneur<\/a> working with microbes. Urban heat islands are real, and it will be hot, they assured me. Even if humanity manages to curb emissions by 2050, we\u2019ll have to deal with extreme heat. But in design, history, trees, innovative technology and reimagining what we think defines a city, we can uncover clues to how we might thrive in a warmer world. Perhaps in 2100, our descendants can enjoy the outdoor air on a summer day and not be bothered by the thought of trading places with an old dog, a bird or a tree.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The following interview, conducted as part of the <\/em>Long View Project<\/em><\/a>, was edited for clarity. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n JoAnna Klein: In this conversation about urban heat, I want us to try to take a more-than-human perspective. By this I just mean, let\u2019s still consider humans, and let\u2019s also think about the other living systems and species that are part of the built environment.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s start with you, Steve because you work with <\/em><\/strong>urban forests<\/em><\/strong><\/a>. Just the sound of that seems to bridge the gap between city and nature. But what exactly is an urban forest?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Steve Frank: <\/strong>All the trees contained within in an urban area are generally considered the urban forest of that area. That's the street trees, the trees in people's yards, the trees in cemeteries, patches of remnant forest [parts of old forests that remain in urban areas throughout development], vacant lots that have grown up with trees. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And so working with urban forests, what are you trying to do or find out?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Largely I deal with street trees and trees and landscapes that aren't part of a forest or remnant forest. Part of my job is helping people manage those trees. I think the biggest thing is trying to get people to put the right trees in the right place. The design component and what people envision artistically in their head doesn't always line up with the species that should be in a particular spot. You get trees that can't stand particular areas put in those places. You know, they\u2019re specified on a plan to be put there, either because of the way they look or their form, or just because they're cheap. And so then somebody has to manage that tree and protect it from pests and drought and all those things for the rest of its life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Who makes those choices in a city? Are they developers? City Hall? Does it vary?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n SF: Well, it varies. Typically, most of the development is commercial, and so those are landscape designers and landscape architects who spec what goes in what spot. But sometimes that all gets thrown out the window when they overrun their budget and just buy the cheapest thing they can find.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Celen Pasalar: <\/strong>If I may add to Steve's excellent explanation, an urban design perspective. Historically, we always detached ourselves from nature as we were shaping our built environment, and we always thought about people being the dominant thing. First, we got rid of nature, I would say, particularly from the city centers. And now we're seeing the impact of practicing that way with the changing climatic conditions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We are trying to reverse it, actually. But for a while, as we have been trying to reverse it, bringing in nature, particularly trees, tree canopies, other types of ground-level vegetation and so forth, we still have been trying to control nature in a way, like deciding how much of it to bring in and where it may be considered. But I think the trend is now shifting towards co-creating with nature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We are seeing these exemplar, unique things happening \u2013 good or bad. I mean, we still have to study how things are performing. But what we see in Singapore<\/a>, Copenhagen<\/a>, or these sort of cities<\/a>, they're already modeling this co-creation with nature and trying to integrate the ecological systems, the green infrastructure, particularly, trees and different types of vegetation, into urban fabric.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ginger Krieg Dosier:<\/strong> Something to add here that relates to trees and forests and the urban environment: We've taken a strong interest lately in the microbiome of the built environment<\/a>, but that also includes the external spaces as well. For example, we\u2019re looking at what vegetation is present that can be bioreceptive surfaces <\/a>for microbial biodiversity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Some statistics just blow my mind. Indoor air is far less diverse than forest or outdoor air; indoor samples typically contain hundreds of microbial types, whereas forest air can contain thousands. And some of those microbes, we've evolved with. There are lots of different effects that microbes have on our health in a positive, very, very positive way. Without them, we would die. In looking at the selections of materials and the selections of plants in homes and cities, all of those are really part of that entire ecosystem and the relationships working to support it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are some recent developments looking at pocket forests<\/a> and the aerobiome<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
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About the interviewees<\/h3>\n\n\n\n