Sunday, July 21 was the world’s hottest day on record, a title it held for only 24 hours. While current record temperatures are fueled by many coinciding factors—an El Niño climate pattern, high solar output, and even, ironically, cleaner shipping emissions—anthropogenic climate change is a key underlying driver. This summer has seen a torrent of reports of deaths from extreme heat, such as several hundred on the Hajj pilgrimage. Individual reports cover only a tiny fraction of the true total, and even official tallies miss the vast majority of heat-related deaths. The World Health Organization reported last week that extreme heat is killing more than 175,000 people a year across Europe (a region it defines broadly to extend into central Asia), and warned that the toll is likely to "soar" in future. In the United States, deaths from extreme heat are hitting record levels, rescue helicopters are sometimes unable to safely fly due to heat, and prisoners in some states are arguing in court that inadequate air conditioning amounts to unconstitutionally "cruel and unusual" punishment.

Around the world, those most vulnerable to the heat are those with the fewest options and resources for escaping it. Unsalaried gig economy workers are another case in point, with any escape from the heat requiring an interruption of the steady stream of tasks on which their income depends. Global tech news site Rest Of World has reported on how the heat has imperiled delivery riders in India, and rideshare drivers in Nigeria.

Last week, CDT Chinese archived a WeChat post detailing one apparent casualty of the rising temperatures. The author describes a kindly and considerate delivery worker who, like millions of other migrant workers, had left a child behind with family in the countryside in order to earn more money in the city. The author’s reference to him as Wang Liu, literally "Wang Six," suggests that Wang was himself the sixth child of a large rural family. Wang and his wife had reportedly established themselves as much-appreciated contributors to their new community’s post-pandemic microeconomy, until his sudden death on what was, very briefly, the hottest day in history.

On July 21, a Sunday, around 11:00 a.m., my wife sent me a series of voice messages on WeChat. (She was away on "special forces" duty in Nanjing.) When I didn’t respond, she called me on my cellphone.

It turns out that a courier we knew from our housing complex had died from a sudden heart attack.

My wife urged us not to go outside unless necessary, because it was too hot.

The news of the courier’s death came as a complete shock, but I can hazard a guess as to what the cause was.

01

The weather really has been too hot, these last few days.

I used to be in the habit of walking a loop of about ten minutes on the riverside outside our compound at around 1:00 in the afternoon to get used to the heat and work up a sweat.

Because there was a row of trees along the riverbank, the path was pretty shady, and the loop was quite manageable. Much to my surprise, the first time I did it during this hot spell, I found afterwards that my arms hurt where they’d been exposed, as if sunburned.

The next day I made a point of wearing a sun-blocking top, and went about my lunchtime stroll amid a cacophony of cicadas. Not three minutes in, less than halfway through the loop, I started to feel uncomfortable, suffocated by the heat and dazzled by the sun.

I hurried back home to splash water on my face and relax in the cool of the air conditioner. I took great gulps of water, and although a colder drink sounded tempting, I didn’t dare drink anything too cold right away.

In this kind of weather, from dawn to dusk, I would always run into this courier and his wife hard at work handling and delivering packages.

Let’s call this courier "Wang Liu."

The first time I’d run into this couple was just after the end of the "Decisive Battle" [against COVID] in 2022. At that point there were a lot of unfamiliar couriers around the compound. Some would head home after completing their assignments, while others would stick around.

Aside from their industriousness, it’s worth noting how intelligently the couple went about their business. They were among the first to collect courier deliveries at the gate of the compound and request that residents come down to the gate to pick up their orders. Quite a few other courier services did the same, but what set this couple apart was their absolute respect for their customers.

They set up an awning to shade the couriers, offered residents door-to-door delivery service, and always did their best to accommodate customers’ special requests.

While Wang Liu was making pick-ups, his wife would keep watch under the awning, waiting for customers. They’d work late into the evenings. The experience for customers was good.

I’m one of those sticklers for standards. I’ve always felt that deliveries should come right to your door. I requested this service several times, and Wang Liu would always deliver to my door without complaint, unlike some couriers who would endlessly moan, argue, or even come to blows.

One time, a package went missing, and it wasn’t clear who was responsible—I mean, we couldn’t tell at what stage it had gone missing. Wang Liu took it on himself to come to my door, politely asked me not to file a complaint, and offered to personally compensate me for the value of the lost package. I was very embarrassed at this, and decided to let it go.

Gradually, we got to know each other pretty well.

Once I was taking my son for a walk when I came across Wang Liu and his wife having dinner at the gate of the compound. They had some fruit on the table, and my son kept eyeing it, so Wang Liu kindly offered him some.

I think this kind of decency is a big part of why he suffered a heart attack in the heat.

02

Eventually, the unexpected opening of a courier station right inside the side gate created a big stir in the community. From then on, a lot of couriers just started leaving packages there, at the new station.

Naturally, this led to a lot of discussion and dispute, the nature of which you can probably guess: concerns about residents being disturbed, worries about whether couriers would still come to your door, and so on. But it seemed that quite quickly, many people came around to the idea, recognizing the convenience of the new station.

Because deliveries weren’t placed in lockers, there were no time limits to worry about. And because the new station was by the side gate, you could pick up packages on your way to or from work. Even more importantly, it turned out that couriers were still willing to do doorstep deliveries when asked.

It wasn’t until I first went to the new courier station that I realized it was Wang Liu and his wife who’d set it up. They’d rented a couple of rooms on the ground floor for four or five thousand yuan a month. This now served as both their courier station and accommodation, thus killing two birds with one stone. You couldn’t deny that the couple had a good head for business.

The station got even busier. When I went to pick things up, I’d often see Wang Liu driving a tricycle laden with packages, or working hard at unloading them. His wife took care of meals and helped customers collect their packages. Code scanner in hand, she’d patiently ask for each customer’s pickup code. If they didn’t have one, the last digits of their cellphone number would do instead.

Once, a package of mine reached the station just as I was heading out for my walk, getting my keyboard worker’s daily dose of physical activity. When I reached the station, Wang Liu’s wife told me that the package was quite large, so Wang Liu could deliver it to my door that evening.

The package was sitting at the entrance to the station. I knew it was just a case of bottled water—heavy, but manageable. So I declined this kindness, and slowly lugged it back home.

Door-to-door delivery of bulky goods, or maybe of all express deliveries, is of course standard, but there are also practical considerations. In the intense heat of a summer like this one, a slight delay is fine.

Not being able to turn down customers’ requests, perhaps thinking of the costs that would follow a complaint, and plowing on with manual labor without concession to the heat, is undoubtedly an important factor in sudden deaths like Wang Liu’s.

Apparently Wang Liu and his wife came from Jining in Shandong. I know this because once when we were out, he called me from his cellphone to tell me there was a package waiting, and the display showed that his was a number from Jining. They hadn’t brought their child with them.

All those times Wang Liu was unloading packages from his trike, we never talked about his hopes or dreams. I never asked him, and now I’ll never know.

Maybe he hoped to set up a bigger courier station, to increase their handling capacity.

Maybe he planned to buy a bigger vehicle, so he could deliver more packages.

Maybe he wanted to hire a couple of assistants, in order to grow the business.

But all those hopes and dreams came to an end on July 21, 2024. [Chinese]