Heatwaves are becoming India’s deadliest climate disaster—but they still don’t count as one

Death is rarely a spectacle during the peak summer months, when temperatures in many parts of India exceed 45°C. There are no crumbling buildings, flooded homes, or debris-strewn landscapes. Instead, many die quietly—on building sites, in agricultural fields, inside tin-roofed houses, or while trudging great distances for water. Heatwaves have long faded from public consciousness by the time the numbers are counted, if at all.

Nonetheless, heatwaves are quickly becoming India’s deadliest climatic threat. Over the last decade, excessive heat has killed thousands of people, disrupted livelihoods, reduced labour output, and put pressure on public health systems. Despite this, heatwaves continue to receive less institutional attention and policy action than floods, cyclones, and earthquakes. They continue to be underreported, undercounted, and under governed.

A disaster without drama

Official data frequently underestimates heat-related deaths. Heat stress, dehydration, heart failure, and worsened respiratory problems are frequently cited as secondary causes of death. Heatwaves kill by continuous exposure, unlike floods or cyclones, which cause evident physical damage. This makes identification difficult and accountability spread.

Heat-related deaths are rarely identified as such, according to public health professionals, unless exceptional conditions require it. This invisibility has repercussions. What is not counted is not prioritised. What is not prioritised does not receive financing, preparedness planning, or institutional attention.

The end consequence is a paradox: heatwaves kill more people than many other climate hazards, but they do not formally “count” as catastrophes in policy conceptions.

The level of exposure

India’s exposure to heat is built into its structure. A lot of people work outside or in places that don’t have good air flow. Construction workers, farmers, street vendors, sanitation workers, and delivery workers are all at risk of getting sick from the heat during the hottest parts of the day.

It is harder in cities. Urban heat islands are places where temperatures stay high at night because of things like dense buildings, less green space, paved surfaces, and not enough ventilation. People who live in informal settlements often don’t have access to electricity, air conditioning, or clean water, so they have to deal with the heat.

These problems are getting worse because of climate change. Heatwaves are happening more often, lasting longer, and being worse. They come earlier in the year than expected, which catches health systems and governments off guard.

Why heat is still not considered a disaster

One reason why heatwaves aren’t called disasters is because of institutional inertia. India’s disaster management system came about because of sudden disasters like floods, cyclones, and earthquakes that cause visible damage. On the other hand, heatwaves are risks that grow over time. Their effects build up over days and weeks, making it hard to tell the difference between exposure to the environment and a failure of public health.

There is also an economic reason. If people saw heat as a major disaster, they would have to make unpopular policy changes, like limiting outdoor work hours, enforcing labour laws, restructuring cities, and putting money into public cooling systems. These steps make us question the usual ways of developing that put safety behind production.

There is also a problem with the data. Policymakers need strong systems for tracking deaths and health problems that are caused by heat in order to have the evidence they need to make decisions. This creates a vicious cycle: not having enough data leads to not taking action, which keeps data gaps open.

Heat action plans: Some progress, but not enough

India has not been completely unresponsive. Over the past 10 years, Heat Action Plans (HAPs) have been a very important tool for governance. Ahmedabad, Nagpur, Bhubaneswar, and Surat are just a few of the cities that have set up early warning systems, public advisories, hospital readiness measures, and ways for different departments to work together.

These plans have been shown to save lives. Ahmedabad’s early efforts to reduce deaths from heat were very effective when they were put into place. Since then, many towns and states have put similar rules into place. Most HAPs, on the other hand, are only suggestions, not requirements. They depend more on raising awareness than on changing the way things are set up. They often forget about the needs of informal workers, who don’t have legal rights or social security. There are cooling centres and water kiosks, but they are not always easy to get to.

HAPs have shown what can be done, but they are not enough to take the place of more thorough institutional reform.

Labor, health, and the cost of inaction

Extreme heat already carries a significant economic impact. Heat stress has been shown in studies to drastically lower labour productivity, particularly in agriculture, construction, and manufacturing. Lost work hours mean lost income for employees and economic losses for the country. The burden also falls on the healthcare system. Heat exacerbates chronic conditions, increases hospitalisations, and puts a load on emergency services. But when it comes to big public health planning, being ready for heat is not often taken into account.

Women, children, the elderly, and those with pre-existing health conditions are disproportionately at risk. The heat is more than just annoying; it’s a threat to their lives.

Counting what matters

India has made progress in seeing heat as a danger.  But there are limits to recognition without classification.  As long as heatwaves don’t fit into the usual disaster framework, they will keep killing people quietly, hurting those who are least protected the most.

Climate change is reshaping the risk landscape in India. Heat is no longer an isolated occurrence; it is becoming a defining characteristic of daily existence.  The question isn’t whether India can afford to treat heatwaves like a crisis.  It’s about whether it can afford not to. Heat disasters will remain uncountable until heat deaths are counted.

Anusreeta Dutta is a columnist and climate researcher with experience in political analysis, ESG research, and energy policy

Views expressed are the author’s own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth