Commentary: When the climate crisis suddenly hits close to home

I live right on the edge of the Lobau (which is one of the last major, intact lowland floodplains in Central Europe).

Image: Lobau before

Exactly where you would expect nature, peace, and a piece of unaltered landscape. For a long time, I took this for granted. Today, I no longer do.

Within less than two years, I have experienced events that I previously would have associated more with news from other parts of the world.

In September 2024, the floodwaters of the Lobau were suddenly at my doorstep. In the end, it was a dam and perhaps half a meter of elevation difference that saved my house from flooding. The dam held. Fortunately.

Image: Lobau after the 2024 flood

In July and August of recent years, temperatures have increasingly climbed above 40 °C. The thermometer on my terrace showed 41 °C. In Vienna. Not in Southern Europe. Not in the desert. In Vienna.

Image: Temperatures in summer

And now, in August 2026, just a few hundred meters from my house, around 18 hectares of the Lobau burned. The pictures speak for themselves. Black soil, charred trees, destroyed habitats. Places where I was walking my dog just a short while ago.

Image: Fire in August 2026

I must admit that this frustrates me.

Not because these events come as a surprise, but because we have been debating climate change, CO₂ emissions, temperature rise, and extreme weather for years while the impacts become increasingly visible. And because many of us still believe that the truly major issues are happening somewhere else.

They are not.

They have long since arrived on our doorstep.

As a risk engineer, my profession involves dealing with hazards, their probability of occurrence, and their potential consequences. That is precisely why I find it difficult to view current developments as mere coincidences. Floods, droughts, wildfires, and heatwaves do not occur in isolation. They are part of a trend that we can increasingly measure, observe, and experience.

And this is no longer just about environmental or nature conservation.

It is about the resilience of our infrastructure.

Even today, power grids are reaching their limits during extreme heat waves. Electrical systems, transformers, data centers, and production facilities lose efficiency as temperatures rise or require significantly more cooling. Many technical systems are designed for ambient temperatures of up to approximately 40 °C. If outdoor temperatures regularly exceed this, failures become more likely and safety margins shrink.

The result can be a dangerous chain reaction: if power demand for air conditioning and cooling rises while infrastructure capacity decreases, the risk of regional supply bottlenecks grows. If cooling fails, the most vulnerable suffer first—the elderly, the sick, and children. Heat-related deaths are already on the rise across Europe.

Industry will also increasingly feel these changes. Production processes, storage, cooling, fire protection, water supply, and occupational safety must be adapted to new climatic conditions. Many of the preparations required for this should have actually begun years ago.

What particularly concerns me: we often talk about another degree of warming as if it were a barely perceptible change. In reality, there are often only a few degrees Celsius between a hot summer day and critical stress for both humans and technology.

Two degrees more seems harmless.

In reality, it can determine whether a wildfire remains controllable or gets out of hand. Whether a power grid remains stable or becomes overloaded. Whether people survive a heatwave safely or not.

Image: Fire in the Lobau in August 2026

Perhaps my house on the Lobau will continue to be threatened by flooding in the future. Perhaps summers will get even hotter and wildfires will occur more frequently. But the crucial question is not whether a single person can change the world. The crucial question is whether millions of people believe that their own contribution is meaningless. Because that is precisely when nothing will change. If just 5% of us start taking responsibility today, our children and grandchildren will live in a completely different world than the one we currently view as inevitable. They will not have to wait decades to see the first effects. The first effects begin tomorrow.

I do not wish for this post to be understood as a political appeal,

but rather as a societal reality.

We will have to adapt to these changes—privately, municipally, and in business. At the same time, we must address the causes. Because adaptation alone will not be enough.

The images from the Lobau do not show a future scenario. They show the year 2026.

The question is no longer whether our climate is changing.

The question is how well prepared we are.

And whether our children and grandchildren will one day still find the landscapes we take for granted today.

Stephan Dorner

Groß-Enzersdorf, August 2026