By Sybrand Frietema de Vries, expert in collective local energy solutions based in Fryslân. First published in Dutch newspaper Friesch Dagblad, December 11, 2020.

November was a delightful month in the Netherlands. Remarkably warm, with few storms and considerably drier than usual.
Newspapers published photos of people out for a walk, enjoying the chance to escape the confinement of staying indoors. Accompanying articles discussed—with undisguised delight—a number of temperature records. A November month had never been quite so pleasant before.
It seems as though meteorologists have taken on a new daily task: reporting yet another new weather record. And not just this past November, and not just in the Netherlands.
This year, rainfall records were set in several countries simultaneously over short periods. The number and intensity of storms in the Atlantic Ocean reached unprecedented levels this hurricane season. Entire continents were plagued by unprecedented drought or extreme heat—or both.
Every year, we revel in records. This is what we want to hear, read, and see in competitions. Records align with our own local expectations and easily transcend borders and cultures. Their measurability is convenient and universally understood; sometimes the numbers alone speak volumes: Inzell, 14:55.9. (And for those to whom that doesn’t resonate: in 1971, Ard Schenk was the first to skate the ten-kilometer race in under fifteen minutes. On an outdoor track.)
But there is one type of record we must unfortunately bid farewell to: the weather record. The trend line tracing the highest temperatures keeps rising. The number of severe storms and downpours is steadily increasing. The area of forest lost to fire grows consistently larger each year. We are forced to conclude: there are so many weather records that, effectively, they no longer exist.
After all, you don’t note on a weekly basis that your growing teenage son has set a new ‘height record.’ No, he is simply growing..
The climate crisis has triggered irreversible weather trends. Our planet is warming up. As a result, we are facing extreme weather phenomena that are largely unfamiliar or poorly understood. When we measure these and compare them with past centuries, the picture doesn’t fit. Our brains try to frame them using familiar concepts—like averages or maximums—but that doesn’t work.
It is a bitter pill, but we must stop thinking in terms of “normal” and “records.” We need to learn to recognize new weather trends and adapt our surroundings to unfamiliar extremes.
Fortunately, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy beautiful autumn or winter weather. We certainly should.
All rights reserved, published with permission of the author.
With thanks to Merien ten Houten and Sybrand Frietema