As India faces yet another summer scorched by record-breaking heat, the capital city’s informal workers are caught in the crossfire of rising temperatures and plummeting earnings.
In parts of Delhi and beyond, where street vendors, construction workers, waste pickers, and rickshaw drivers form the invisible machinery of urban life, survival is becoming increasingly precarious. With temperatures surging past 44°C in states like Telangana and heat alerts active across much of north and east India, the Indian Meteorological Department has signalled urgent weather warnings. But even more alarming is a quieter, compounding crisis that remains largely unaddressed—the profound impact of extreme heat on those who have the least protection: informal sector workers.
According to experts, India’s climate trajectory is veering dangerously. Scientific projections suggest average temperature increases ranging from 1.2°C to 3.5°C over the coming decades due to anthropogenic climate change. For the country’s estimated 400 million informal workers—who make up more than 80 percent of the labour force—the implications are dire. These workers are employed without formal contracts, health benefits, insurance, or legal safety nets. Their jobs are outdoors, unshaded, and physically strenuous—construction, hawking goods, pulling cycle rickshaws, repairing autos, vending food on hot pavements. As the mercury climbs, the risk of heatstroke, dehydration, and other heat-related illnesses multiplies, while incomes sharply decline.
A recent peer-reviewed study published in Environmental Research Letters by researchers associated with India’s leading environment and policy institutes found stark evidence of how urban heatwaves are slashing earnings for workers in the informal economy. Conducted across two slum clusters in Delhi, the study followed 400 workers during May and June 2019—among the hottest months in the city’s annual weather cycle. These individuals represented a broad swathe of the informal urban economy: from roadside barbers, cobblers, cycle and auto mechanics, to ragpickers, waste dealers, fruit sellers, and launderers. Most of them were either self-employed or earning daily or piece-rate wages, with no recourse to paid leave or income support during adverse weather.
The research matched each worker’s daily earnings and expenses with weather data from Delhi’s official meteorological station. In particular, it tracked “wet-bulb temperature”—a more accurate measure of human discomfort, combining heat and humidity. Findings revealed a significant drop in work hours and earnings as temperatures rose. Workers had to leave their posts early, rest more often, or avoid certain tasks altogether. For some, a single missed day meant no food on the table that night. Officials and researchers involved in the study stress that these workers’ economic fragility is compounded by medical expenses from heat exposure—dizziness, skin rashes, diarrhoea, and other illnesses are commonly reported. Without any form of social insurance or institutional support, a single health episode can wipe out a week’s income.
Between 2001 and 2020, India is estimated to have lost 259 billion labour hours annually to extreme heat and humidity. That translates to an economic hit of ₹46 lakh crore in lost productivity. These losses are not merely numbers—they represent growing urban inequities. The burden of climate extremes is not shared equally. While upper-income groups have air-conditioned offices and homes, the informal workforce faces the full brunt of climate stress without access to cooling or medical care. Delhi, like many Indian cities, is becoming increasingly inhospitable for low-income migrants who make up about 40 percent of its population. These workers—many of whom come from states such as Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, and West Bengal—live in overcrowded settlements with little ventilation, inadequate water supply, and few public health services. Night-time temperatures, which are supposed to offer relief, often remain above 30°C in the city’s dense residential quarters, leading to interrupted sleep and cumulative fatigue.
In such living and working conditions, the informal labour force is trapped in a vicious cycle. Heat reduces their capacity to work, which lowers earnings. Lower earnings prevent access to healthcare or respite infrastructure like fans or cooling systems, making them more vulnerable to illness and further income loss. Experts note that urban planning and labour policy have failed to anticipate or accommodate the needs of this vast and growing section of the workforce. Most climate adaptation programmes in India focus on large-scale infrastructure or agricultural resilience, leaving out the urban working poor. While state governments in some regions have issued advisories asking employers to stagger work hours and provide rest and hydration breaks, these recommendations rarely apply to self-employed workers or those working on unregulated sites.
For cities like Delhi to remain livable and equitable, planners and policymakers must adopt inclusive climate resilience strategies. That includes expanding access to shaded public rest zones, establishing emergency hydration stations, increasing tree cover in low-income areas, and incorporating urban cooling into building codes. There is also an urgent need for portable income protection systems—such as mobile-based heat insurance, conditional cash transfers during heatwaves, or community-based healthcare interventions tailored for informal settlements. Without such measures, India risks a future where extreme weather not only devastates livelihoods but also deepens social divides in its rapidly urbanising centres.
While the informal workforce continues to labour through searing heat with quiet resilience, their silence should not be mistaken for stability. The escalating intersection of climate change and economic precarity presents a systemic challenge—one that demands bold, empathetic, and equity-driven solutions from those shaping the future of Indian cities.
Heat and Hunger Haunt Delhis Informal Workers
