The warming from El Niño is being topped up by climate change.
The tropical Pacific has crossed a threshold that climate scientists have long watched with apprehension: El Niño has officially arrived, declared by NOAA as ocean temperatures surpass the markers of a new warming phase. What distinguishes this moment from past cycles is not the natural pattern itself, but the world it is entering — one already pushed to record heat by decades of human activity. The convergence of a potentially 'super' El Niño with existing climate change raises the prospect of 2027 becoming the hottest year in recorded history, with consequences that will fall most heavily on those least responsible for the conditions that made it possible.
- Sea surface temperatures in the tropical Pacific have already crossed the 0.5°C threshold, and models now give a 63% chance of a very strong event by late 2026 — potentially rivaling the catastrophic El Niños of 1982, 1997, and 2015.
- This natural warming cycle is landing on a planet already at record heat, meaning the usual 0.2°C global temperature boost from El Niño could push 2027 past the symbolic 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels.
- Flooding threatens Peru and East Africa while drought and wildfire risk surge across Australia, Indonesia, and northern South America — disruptions that translate directly into crop failures, food price spikes, and potential famine.
- East Africa, already worn down by successive droughts and floods, faces the sharpest edge of this forecast, with community leaders calling the declaration not a weather update but a deadly siren.
- Meteorological agencies from the US to Japan to Australia are aligned: El Niño is here, it is likely to intensify, and its effects on weather, food systems, and economies will extend well into 2027.
The tropical Pacific has crossed a threshold. Sea surface temperatures have climbed sharply enough that NOAA has officially declared El Niño conditions are underway — not a forecast, but a present reality. What has caught researchers' attention is not merely the arrival of the pattern, but the confidence with which models are projecting its strength. NOAA's June outlook gives a 63 percent chance that this becomes a very strong El Niño by November through January, potentially ranking among the largest events since records began in 1950. Some models suggest sea surface temperatures could climb more than 3°C above average by year's end.
The deeper concern is the world this El Niño is entering. A strong event typically lifts global air temperatures by around 0.2°C by releasing stored ocean heat into the atmosphere — but that warmth now lands on a planet already setting records. The year 2024 was the warmest ever recorded, boosted by an El Niño that wasn't even particularly strong. Even the La Niña cooling that followed left 2025 as the third warmest year on record. UK Met Office researchers warn that 2027 could become the hottest year in history, with global temperatures potentially exceeding 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels.
The disruption will not fall evenly. Northern Peru and East Africa face severe flooding; Australia, Indonesia, and northern South America face drought and wildfire. These are regions that feed the world. For millions in vulnerable areas, an El Niño declaration means failed rains, dying crops, and rising food prices. East Africa faces particular peril, its communities already battered by recent climate extremes. The director of Power Shift Africa called the declaration a deadly siren — a warning that families will be pushed to the edge yet again.
El Niño occurs every two to seven years and typically lasts about a year. There is still no conclusive proof that climate change makes these events stronger or more frequent, but a warmer world amplifies their consequences. The question now is not whether this El Niño will arrive — it already has — but how the combination of natural ocean warming and human-caused climate change will reshape weather, food systems, and economies through 2027 and beyond.
The tropical Pacific has crossed a threshold. Sea surface temperatures have climbed high enough that the US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has now officially declared El Niño conditions are underway. This is not speculation or forecast—it is happening. The ocean in that critical band of the Pacific has warmed sharply in recent months, passing the 0.5 degrees Celsius above average that scientists use as the marker for the event's arrival.
What makes this declaration significant is not just that El Niño has begun, but what the computer models are already suggesting about its strength. Forecasters have been watching the tropical Pacific closely, expecting this warming phase to arrive after the cooler La Niña pattern ended earlier in the year. But the confidence with which the models are now predicting intensity has caught researchers' attention. There is a 63 percent chance, according to NOAA's June outlook, that this will become a very strong El Niño by November through January—strong enough to rank among the largest such events in the recorded history stretching back to 1950. Some of the latest models from the United States and Europe are pushing even further, suggesting sea surface temperatures could climb more than 3 degrees Celsius above average by year's end. The three strongest El Niño events on record occurred in 1982-83, 1997-98, and 2015-16. This one could rival them.
But the real concern is not the ocean warming in isolation. It is that this natural Pacific weather pattern is arriving on a planet that has already warmed dramatically due to human activity. A very strong El Niño typically lifts global air temperatures by around 0.2 degrees Celsius by releasing heat stored in the ocean into the atmosphere. That additional warmth now lands on a world already setting records. The year 2024 was the warmest on record, and it was boosted by an El Niño that was not even particularly strong. Despite the cooling influence of the La Niña that followed, 2025 still ranked as the third warmest year ever recorded—warmer even than 2016, which was a super El Niño year. Researchers at the UK Met Office warn that the actual temperatures in affected regions could well be unprecedented, as the warming from El Niño stacks on top of climate change. The forecast points toward 2027 as likely the hottest year on record, with global temperatures potentially exceeding 1.5 degrees Celsius above late-19th-century levels.
The disruption will not be evenly distributed. El Niño's effects are felt most sharply in the tropics, and the pattern of damage is well understood from past events. Northern Peru and southern Ecuador typically experience severe flooding, with impacts reaching parts of East Africa, Central Asia, and the southern United States. Simultaneously, drought and wildfire risk rise across much of Australia, Indonesia, and northern South America—regions that feed the world. The suppression of Atlantic hurricanes sounds beneficial until you consider that it means Central America receives far less rainfall, creating drought conditions precisely where rain is needed. Even the UK feels a faint influence, with El Niño tilting the odds toward a mild winter start and cold finish, though the connection is loose.
For millions of people in vulnerable regions, this is not an abstract forecast. An El Niño declaration means failed rains, dying crops, and rising food prices. East Africa faces particular peril, as these impacts will land on communities already battered by recent droughts and floods. The director of Power Shift Africa described the declaration not as another weather forecast but as a deadly siren—a warning that families will be pushed to the edge yet again. Japan's Meteorological Agency has reached the same conclusion as NOAA, judging that El Niño conditions are present and all but certain to persist into autumn. Australia's Bureau of Meteorology uses stricter criteria and has stopped short of a formal declaration, but it too expects El Niño to develop later this year and says it could be strong.
El Niño occurs every two to seven years and typically lasts about a year. There is still no conclusive proof that climate change is making these events stronger or more frequent, but a warming world can amplify their effects. The question now is not whether this El Niño will arrive—it already has—but how the combination of natural ocean warming and human-caused climate change will reshape weather, food systems, and economies through 2027 and beyond.
Citas Notables
The actual temperatures in affected regions could well be unprecedented, as the warming from El Niño is being topped up by climate change.— Prof Adam Scaife, UK Met Office
An El Niño declaration is not just another weather forecast—for millions of people it is a deadly siren to be feared. It means failed rains, dying crops, rising food prices, and families pushed to the edge yet again.— Mohamed Adow, Power Shift Africa
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter that NOAA officially declared this rather than just saying conditions are developing?
Because declaration means it's crossed a measurable threshold. It's not a prediction anymore—it's a present condition. That changes how governments and aid organizations prepare. It's the difference between a weather watch and a weather warning.
The models are showing 63 percent confidence in a very strong event. That's high, but it's not certain. Why are researchers surprised by that confidence?
Usually at this stage of an El Niño, there's more uncertainty. The fact that multiple independent models—American and European—are already converging on a strong outcome suggests the ocean conditions are very clearly pointing in that direction. It's like watching a car skid; you can tell early on it's going to be a bad one.
You mentioned 2024 was the warmest year on record, and it had a weaker El Niño. What does that tell us about 2027?
It tells us the baseline has shifted. Climate change has raised the floor. So when you add a strong El Niño on top of that higher baseline, you're not just getting a hot year—you're potentially getting a year that breaks records in ways we haven't seen before. The ocean heat and the atmospheric heat are stacking.
The article mentions that El Niño suppresses Atlantic hurricanes, which sounds good. But you said it creates drought in Central America. How does that work?
Fewer Atlantic hurricanes means less moisture gets transported inland. Central America relies on that rainfall. So you get a quieter hurricane season—fewer storms, fewer deaths from storms—but the region dries out. It's a trade-off, and for agriculture and water supplies, it's the wrong one.
East Africa is mentioned as particularly vulnerable. Why there specifically?
Because they're already exhausted. They've been hit by droughts and floods in recent years. Their food systems are fragile, their water reserves are depleted, and their communities are stretched thin. An El Niño-driven drought landing on that isn't just another weather event—it's a crisis on top of a crisis.
Is there anything that could prevent this from being as bad as the models suggest?
NOAA itself cautioned that even very strong El Niño events don't lead to expected impacts everywhere. The pattern is real, but it's not a script. That said, the underlying climate change is not going anywhere. That's the part we can't dodge.