Hot Days, Cool Choices: Hospitals Struggle with Rising Temperatures
A Hospital Built for Another Era
In Fleury-Mérogis, just outside Paris, the Frédéric-Henri Manhès hospital has become a rare sanctuary in the midst of France’s hottest days ever recorded. Its air-conditioned waiting room offers a fleeting reprieve from the relentless heat—but the rest of the building tells a different story.
Built in the mid-1900s, the hospital’s once-celebrated large windows now act like a greenhouse, trapping heat inside. Patients in non-air-conditioned rooms endure stifling conditions during treatments, while nurses work under dimmed lights to reduce excess warmth. Christine, a patient, jokes about the limited power of her electric fan, while a nurse in the psychiatric unit describes how exhaustion from the heat makes it harder to care for others.
A Matter of Life and Death
The crisis isn’t just about discomfort—it’s about survival. Hospitals, especially older ones, were never designed for extreme heat. Many rely on natural ventilation, which fails when temperatures soar past 40°C. Even with fans running nonstop, the air remains thick and suffocating.
For patients already battling health issues, the heat makes their conditions worse. Staff, too, struggle to stay focused. The hospital’s director admits that without proper cooling, patient care suffers. Some vulnerable patients, such as those on dialysis, get priority access to air conditioning—but expanding it across the entire hospital is costly.
The Great Air Conditioning Debate
France is torn over how to respond. The far-right demands more AC units everywhere, while the left warns that increased cooling could worsen the climate crisis by driving up energy use. A middle ground is emerging: AC in critical places like hospitals and schools, but not as a universal solution.
The Frédéric-Henri Manhès hospital embodies this struggle. Its director warns that if heatwaves keep intensifying, they’ll have no choice but to prioritize cooling—even if it means tough financial sacrifices.
The question remains: Can France adapt fast enough to keep its most vulnerable safe?
