In a heatwave, a cool library or shopping centre is a lifeline. Do we need more climate shelters?

Australia’s building stock was largely designed for a gentler climate. As heatwaves intensify and nights stay hot, many homes—especially older or poorly insulated ones—become dangerous. When the mercury soars past 40°C, the body’s ability to shed heat is overwhelmed, turning bedrooms and lounge rooms into health hazards.

For those with money, home upgrades such as shading, insulation, passive cooling and bigger air-conditioners can help. But steep energy prices and the rising cost of retrofits put these protections out of reach for many. Extreme heat affects everyone, yet it is most deadly for people with the fewest resources.

Smoke is compounding the risk. Longer, hotter fire seasons mean more days when smoke infiltrates cities and towns. Homes that depend on cross-ventilation pull polluted air indoors, while leaky buildings let smoke in regardless. For many, safe air and safe temperatures—fundamental to a dignified life—simply aren’t available at home.

Fully upgrading every dwelling will take decades. In the meantime, communities need places to go. That’s where climate shelters—public, cooled, smoke-protected spaces—come in. Also called resilience hubs, heat havens or clean-air shelters, these facilities offer temporary refuge during extreme weather, typically providing air-conditioning, drinking water, seating, power outlets for device charging, Wi‑Fi and toilets. They are often existing venues such as libraries, community centres, town halls and schools that can be opened on high-risk days.

What other cities are doing

Globally, cities are experimenting. Barcelona has built a network of shaded outdoor areas and cooled indoor sites, aiming to place a shelter within a short walk of every resident by 2030. In parts of China, wartime underground shelters have been adapted as cool community spaces; in Chongqing, some now operate like an “underground city” offering respite and social activity during oppressive summer heat. In the United States, deadly heat events and grid failures have spurred the creation of resilience hubs equipped with solar and battery systems to keep cooling and communications running during outages.

Australia’s patchwork response

Australia has become adept at pop-up evacuation centres during fires and floods, but heat and smoke don’t always trigger formal emergencies. On scorching days, people often retreat to shopping centres, cinemas, fast-food outlets or clubs—spaces that can be lifesaving but are geared to spending, not public health. In some regions, using clubs as refuges has raised concerns about exposing vulnerable people to gambling environments.

Non-commercial options are stepping up. Libraries, community halls and places of worship have opened their doors on dangerous days. Local governments and community groups are piloting programs:

• In Blacktown, western Sydney, “Cool Centres” activate when temperatures hit 36°C, with text alerts guiding registered residents to nearby venues.
• The City of Melbourne maps “Community Cool Places” to help people find air-conditioned spaces close to home.
• On the NSW South Coast, Eurobodalla has volunteer-run “Heat Havens” fitted with solar and backup generators to remain operational during bushfire smoke and blackouts.

Barriers we must design around

Early pilots reveal common hurdles. Many residents who would benefit most don’t know these shelters exist, or can’t easily reach them. The hottest, least shaded suburbs are often lower-income areas with fewer trees, hotter footpaths and longer walks—conditions that make a five-minute trip punishing on a 42°C, smoky afternoon. Safe, accessible public transport is vital.

Accessibility is more than distance. People with chronic illness, disabilities, mobility challenges or caring responsibilities need suitable facilities. Some residents require private space for prayer or personal care. Others cannot leave pets behind. And if people expect to spend hours in a shelter, what’s on offer matters: quiet corners for rest, activities for children, places to work or study, and a welcoming atmosphere all influence whether people will actually go.

Operations also count. Extended hours during heat peaks, staff trained to support visitors who may be unwell or distressed, and clear, multilingual communication can turn an empty hall into a trusted haven. To protect against smoke, buildings may need upgrades—from entry vestibules and well-sealed doors to high-efficiency air filtration and dependable backup power.

From last resort to everyday asset

Researchers and communities are beginning to co-design best-practice models for climate shelters, measuring indoor air quality and temperature, testing filtration and ventilation strategies, and developing guidance tailored to local conditions. The goal is to move beyond ad hoc responses toward a reliable network that can scale during extremes—and serve residents year-round as inclusive community spaces.

Framing shelters as a “last resort” diminishes their utility. Instead, think of them as part of a city’s essential social infrastructure, like parks, libraries and pools: open, familiar, and easy to use before conditions become life-threatening. Done well, shelters can reduce hospital admissions, protect people during power cuts, and provide islands of clean air during smoke events—while building social connections that improve resilience long after the heat breaks.

As heatwaves and smoke become a defining feature of Australian summers, the question isn’t whether we need more climate shelters, but how quickly we can deliver them—near where people live, designed with those most at risk, and ready for the next long, hot season.