Keeping one-fifth of humanity warm

Winter has a way of reducing systems to the bare essentials. Pipes freeze. Power lines break. Heaters become the most important appliance in the house. When I started researching this podcast episode, I kept coming back to a simple question that seems increasingly global: what actually keeps people warm when the weather gets brutal—and what fails when it doesn't?

This winter, this question has been impossible to ignore. Across the Northern Hemisphere, cold waves have swept through Russia, Europe, Japan, the United States—and China. But the scale of the challenge in China is different. Keeping the lights on and the homes warm here doesn't mean protecting a city or a region. It means doing so for nearly a fifth of humanity, in climates ranging from sub-zero Arctic winters to tropical heat.

That alone makes the story of winter energy in China worthy of attention. But as I delved deeper into the research for the podcast, I realized something else: winter heating is one of the clearest windows into understanding how a country's energy system works, what its governance priorities are, and how social contracts actually operate.

Warming a fifth of humanity

China operates the largest district heating system on the planet. In northern cities, winter heating is a coordinated operation. Thousands of kilometers of pipelines transport heat from power plants to homes, offices, schools, and hospitals. The heated area approaches nine billion square meters, equivalent to about a quarter of the entire built-up area of ​​the United States.

An engineer I spoke with described northern cities as functioning like “a giant, precise machine.” Waste heat from power generation is captured and redistributed on a large scale. This “big system” approach has real advantages: efficiency per unit of energy, operational stability, and the ability to respond centrally when demand surges.

But this system doesn't exist everywhere. China's famous north-south division still defines how people stay warm.

A line of public policy that still shapes daily life.

In the 1950s, policymakers drew a line along the Qinling Mountains and the Huaihe River. North of it, where average winter temperatures remain below 5°C for extended periods, centralized heating came to be considered a public service. South of it, it did not.

This decision still resonates today. In northern cities, heat arrives via radiators on a fixed seasonal schedule—though this schedule is becoming more flexible as weather patterns shift. In the south, most families rely on air conditioning, electric heaters, or other individual solutions. Winters are milder there, but cold, damp periods can still be harsh indoors.

This isn't just a matter of comfort. It's a matter of infrastructure path dependency. Once systems are built—or left unbuilt—they shape costs, expectations, and vulnerabilities for decades.

Why extreme cold doesn't automatically turn into a disaster.

One thing that struck me while researching this episode is how heating is framed politically in China. Residential heating is treated as a “baseline livelihood.” During extreme cold spells, energy companies are required to prioritize households over industrial users. Even when global natural gas prices skyrocket, residential heating prices remain stable.

Then there is the silent role of the buildings themselves. Northern cities follow strict thermal insulation standards—thick exterior walls, double or triple glazing. It’s not flashy, but it matters. Even if heating is interrupted, internal temperatures typically drop only a few degrees over 24 hours. This “buffer” buys time.

All of this helps explain why, even during record electricity demand in the winter earlier this year, China avoided the kind of cascading humanitarian crisis we've seen elsewhere.

When the cold becomes deadly: a contrast with the United States.

The contrast became evident in January 2026, during the winter storm Fern in the United States. As temperatures plummeted, at least 100 people lost their lives. Millions were left without power. In some regions, the danger wasn't just the cold—it was what came after.

Power plants went offline when gas-fired equipment froze. In the South, ice accumulated on trees and power lines not designed to support that weight, knocking out electricity to entire communities. Homes built for mild winters lost heat rapidly. People resorted to generators and makeshift heating, leading to cases of carbon monoxide poisoning. Medical devices malfunctioned when the power was cut off.

What struck me was not that the U.S. lacked technology or wealth. It was how aging infrastructure, fragmented responsibilities, and market signals combined under stress. Much of the electrical grid is decades old. Winter preparedness standards vary by region. Heating and electricity are priced and managed first as commodities, and only then as tools of public safety.

Climate scientists warn that this type of event is becoming the "new normal." A warming planet could still produce more disruptive winter storms, giving communities less time to adapt.

Decarbonizing heat without freezing people

It's clear that scale brings emissions. Global warming consumes enormous amounts of energy. What surprised me during the research is how many experiments are already underway to make it cleaner.

Industrial waste heat — energy that once vanished into thin air — is now being captured to heat homes. Geothermal heating is expanding rapidly, from model projects like Xiong'an to county-level systems that harness groundwater at 60 degrees Celsius. In Hebei province, crop straw is burned in highly efficient biomass plants, replacing coal and dramatically reducing emissions. In Qingdao city, treated wastewater feeds heat pumps that heat neighborhoods without combustion. Even nuclear power is quietly entering the heating mix in places like Haiyan County, where residents talk less about reactors and more about finally being able to take their coats off indoors.

There is no single solution. What is emerging instead is a portfolio approach, shaped by local resources.

More electricity, but a different story.

This winter also coincided with a milestone: China's annual electricity consumption surpassed 10 trillion kilowatt-hours for the first time. On the surface, this sounds alarming. But context matters.

Much of the growth is coming from cleaner, higher value-added sectors—electric vehicles, data centers, advanced manufacturing—and the electrification of everyday life. For every three units of electricity used in China, approximately one unit already includes green energy. Demand is growing, but carbon intensity is falling.

A contrast of vulnerability: the winter storm Fern

The stability of this system contrasts sharply and tragically with the "cascade effects" seen in the United States during the winter storm Fern in January 2026. While China operates its network as security infrastructure, the crisis in the US exposed the fragility of treating global warming as a commodity first and as a public safety tool only later.

The storm claimed dozens of lives when the aging U.S. power grid—much of it 50 to 75 years old—gave way under pressure. In the South, where buildings lack the “thermal coats” of northern climates, the danger wasn’t just the cold, but the systemic failure that followed: gas-fired equipment froze, crude oil production plummeted by about 15%, and millions were left in the dark as ice brought down lines not designed to withstand that weight. The result was a humanitarian crisis of carbon monoxide poisoning and medical device failures—a stark reminder that, in the face of volatile weather, the true test of an energy system is whether it holds up when people need it most.

Winter reveals what systems truly prioritize.

Winter doesn't care about slogans. It tests power grids, buildings, markets, and governments all at once. Preparing this podcast episode forced me to look beyond abstract energy goals and focus on something more tangible: what happens at 3 a.m. when the temperature plummets and people just need to stay warm.

China's approach is not something other countries can simply copy. But there are lessons worth learning.

One of them is to treat heating and electricity as critical safety infrastructure, and not just as services. Another is to plan for worst-case scenarios, not historical averages. And a third is to recognize that resilience often comes from less glamorous investments: thermal insulation, reserve capacity, clear rules for prioritization when supply gets tight.

These ideas matter far beyond China.

That's why we break all of this down in depth on the podcast. Because, as winters become more volatile, the question isn't whether energy systems are clean or cheap on paper. It's whether they hold up when people need them most.

If this discussion about winter, energy, and resilience resonates with you, the most recent episode of Round Table China It takes a closer look at China's energy history — and why it matters far beyond its borders.