This summer, the air felt heavier than ever across Europe—not just from the relentless heat, but from the heated debates swirling around how the continent should keep cool. In a year when radio failed to produce a single memorable hit, the question of air conditioning—who has it, who wants it, and who’s resisting it—became the subject on everyone’s lips. The divide between Americans and Europeans over AC habits, long a source of bemusement, reached a fever pitch in the summer of 2025. According to the Financial Times and the Wall Street Journal, the debate this year grew unusually fierce, straining cultural ties almost as much as disagreements over tariffs or Ukraine’s future.
And the numbers tell a striking story: nearly 90% of U.S. households enjoy air conditioning, while only about 20% of Europeans do, with some countries falling well below that figure. In France, the issue even entered the political arena. During a blisteringly hot day in late June, with temperatures soaring into the triple digits, far-right leader Marine Le Pen declared on French TV channel BFM, “Air conditioning saves lives.” She called it “totally absurd” that the majority of hospitals and schools still lacked AC, especially as 1,800 schools had to close during the heatwave, according to the French government. Le Pen promised that if she were ever elected, she would install AC units across the country.
The response from France’s Ecologist Party was swift and nuanced. Speaking to France Info radio, Green Party secretary Marine Tondelier clarified that she wasn’t opposed to installing air conditioning in schools and hospitals. However, she insisted, “the real problem is poor insulation,” and argued that her party is pushing for more investment in energy-efficient buildings. The debate, reported by NPR’s Rebecca Rosman from Paris, reflected a broader tension: should France (and Europe at large) embrace American-style cooling, or stick to traditional, more sustainable approaches?
Public opinion in France is split. A recent OpinionWay poll found that only about half of the French public believe all public spaces should be air conditioned. Just a quarter of French households have AC units, compared to the overwhelming majority in the United States. Economist Nicolas Bouzou, writing in Le Figaro, summed up the political divide succinctly: “The left is against air conditioners, and the right is in favor of air conditioner.” Bouzou argued that air conditioning isn’t just about comfort, but also about productivity and the ability to work, study, and even tackle the climate crisis itself. “It’s very difficult to work. It’s very difficult to study. And at the end of the day, it’s very difficult to struggle against the climate crisis,” he said. Bouzou also pointed out that since most of France’s energy is nuclear, the country “can stay cool without warming the planet.”
Despite these arguments, many Parisians remain unconvinced. On a 90-degree afternoon along the Seine, residents stretched out in the sun as if the heat were nothing more than a passing inconvenience. Seventy-three-year-old writer Philippe Mezescase told NPR he’s mostly against air conditioning, saying, “AC wastes a lot of energy. Why not just open a window?” Others were downright offended by the question, while Australian expat Peter Soderbaum expressed bewilderment at the French debate: “There’s no discussion [in Australia]. You have air conditioning.” Still, Soderbaum believes France is simply delaying the inevitable. “It will come, whether they want it or not.”
So why is Europe so resistant to air conditioning? The answer is complex, rooted in history, culture, economics, and policy. Southern European cities were built to cope with heat: think thick walls, shaded windows, and narrow streets designed for airflow. The whitewashed buildings of Santorini or Vieste aren’t just for show—they reflect sunlight and help keep interiors cool. In northern Europe, where summers were once reliably mild, air conditioning was long considered a luxury or even a health risk. The stereotype that AC is for the wealthy still lingers, and many Europeans believe exposure to cold air can make you sick.
There’s also the matter of cost. European electricity prices are much higher than in the U.S., a reality that was starkly reinforced by the 2022 energy crisis. Even though prices have stabilized since then, the added expense of running an air conditioner remains prohibitive for many households. According to EU data, AC accounts for only about 0.6% of household electricity use across the bloc, though that figure is rising fast. The heatwaves of June and July 2025 pushed daily demand up by as much as 14%. Electricity prices spiked above €400 per megawatt-hour in Germany and €470 in Poland, even as solar power hit record highs.
But is Europe’s reluctance to embrace AC the result of bureaucratic hostility? Not quite. Despite claims by critics, the EU has never banned HVAC systems. What it does regulate is the type of systems allowed, focusing on limiting harmful refrigerants and improving efficiency as part of its climate-neutral goal for 2050. The centerpiece of this policy is the recently revised F-gas Regulation, which phases out hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs)—potent greenhouse gases used in many traditional cooling systems—by 2050. Manufacturers are being nudged toward cleaner alternatives like carbon dioxide and ammonia. Some in the industry say these rules have slowed the growth of the heat pump market, but Brussels argues that factors like falling gas prices, weaker subsidies, and consumer caution play a bigger role, and points to a wave of new, HFC-free models already hitting the market.
The Ecodesign Directive, another key policy, sets minimum efficiency standards and effectively bans the least efficient AC models. These rules dovetail with the Energy Performance of Buildings Directive, which requires upgrades in Europe’s aging housing stock through better insulation and greener heating and cooling. The principle is clear: the EU isn’t trying to kill air conditioning, it just wants it done sustainably.
Much of the practical regulation, however, comes from member states. Spain, Italy, and Greece, for example, limit how cold public buildings can be set in summer, often mandating no lower than 27°C. Some historic city centers restrict the installation of external AC units for aesthetic reasons. Environmental concerns are also at play; studies show that AC units can raise outdoor temperatures in dense urban areas by several degrees, worsening the so-called “heat island effect.”
As climate change accelerates, the stakes are rising. Paris has endured eight of its ten hottest summers on record in just the last decade. International news outlets have warned that Europe’s slow adoption of cooling technology is already costing lives. The European Commission, for its part, is preparing the energy sector for an era of recurring and more intense heatwaves, focusing on storage, interconnections, and grid resilience. While there’s no immediate plan for a specific intervention in the cooling sector, officials aren’t ruling it out in the medium term.
In the end, Europe’s low adoption of air conditioning isn’t the result of bans or bureaucratic overreach. It’s a complicated mix of tradition, culture, cost, and policy. But as summers grow ever hotter and heatwaves become the new normal, that balance is being tested—and the debate is far from over.
