Once every few years, the Pacific Ocean rewrites the rules of global weather — and in 2026, it has done so with unusual force. A powerful El Niño has stilled the Atlantic hurricane season to a historic quiet, while simultaneously feeding fiercer storms across the Pacific and bending monsoon patterns that billions depend upon. Nature's balance, it seems, is not a matter of less suffering overall, but of where that suffering travels — and a warming world is ensuring the bill grows larger wherever it lands.
Historic El Niño suppresses Atlantic hurricanes while Pacific storms intensify
In the satellite era, we have never had a year without a hurricane.
So we're looking at zero hurricanes in the Atlantic by late September. That's genuinely unprecedented since 1966. How does that actually happen?
El Niño weakens the trade winds that normally push weather systems across the Atlantic. When those winds falter, it changes the whole upper atmosphere—the jet stream shifts, humidity patterns shift. And crucially, it creates wind shear, these sharp changes in wind speed at different altitudes that literally tear apart storms before they can organize.
But I want to be careful here. NOAA said this would be a first, but the season doesn't end until November 30. Rosencrans himself said meteorologists have warned that a major hurricane could still form before it's over. So we're not actually done yet.
That's fair. And you're right—the season is still active. But what's striking is the accumulated cyclone energy is at a record low for this point in the year. None of the six tropical storms that have formed have even reached hurricane strength.
And meanwhile, the Pacific is getting hammered. Polo became one of the most powerful Pacific cyclones in decades. Why the opposite effect?
In the Pacific, El Niño actually reduces wind shear and brings warmer waters. Those are the two things that fuel cyclones. So storms form more easily, they last longer, and they track differently—northward toward Japan and Korea instead of westward toward Southeast Asia.
But again, we should note that's a shift in where the storms go, not necessarily more total storms. Rosencrans said an "above average" season in the Pacific, but that's a forecast, not a count yet.
What worries me most is the heat projection. Half a million additional deaths from extreme heat?
That's from the Climate Impact Lab, and it's specifically about the combined effect of El Niño plus climate change warming. El Niño alone is natural, but it's happening in a world that's already warmer from fossil fuels. That amplification is what's dangerous.
And that projection is for the entire El Niño period—it's not saying half a million will die this year. It's a longer-term estimate. But yes, the WMO head said impacts are already visible and expected to worsen.
So a quiet Atlantic hurricane season sounds like good news, but it's actually part of a much larger disruption.
Exactly. The same mechanism suppressing Atlantic hurricanes is intensifying Pacific storms and triggering droughts in Asia and Africa. It's not good news—it's a redistribution of extreme weather, and the overall picture is worse.
Le Pouls
- For the first time since satellites began watching in 1966, the Atlantic has produced zero hurricanes this far into its season — a silence that is as scientifically remarkable as it is deceptive.
- El Niño's intensified wind shear is tearing apart Atlantic storms before they can organize, while the same pattern supercharges Pacific typhoons like Polo, one of the most powerful in decades.
- Communities across Guam, Japan, and the Korean Peninsula face elevated typhoon risk as Pacific storms track farther east and live longer, while parts of Africa and South Asia brace for drought as monsoons falter.
- The deeper alarm is not the storm count but the heat: combined with climate change, this El Niño could drive nearly half a million additional deaths globally, with the heaviest toll on the world's most vulnerable populations.
Once every few years, the Pacific Ocean rewrites the rules of global weather — and in 2026, it has done so with unusual force. A powerful El Niño has stilled the Atlantic hurricane season to a historic quiet, while simultaneously feeding fiercer storms across the Pacific and bending monsoon patterns that billions depend upon. Nature's balance, it seems, is not a matter of less suffering overall, but of where that suffering travels — and a warming world is ensuring the bill grows larger wherever it lands.
By late September in most years, the Atlantic has already delivered its share of destruction. In 2026, it has delivered almost nothing — only six tropical storms and not a single hurricane, the first such silence in the satellite era. NOAA forecaster Matthew Rosencrans put it simply: in recorded history, this has never happened before. Accumulated cyclone energy sits at a record low, and the reason lies far away, in the Pacific.
A powerful El Niño — among the strongest on record, with sea surface temperatures more than 3 degrees Celsius above normal in key regions — is reshaping atmospheric circulation worldwide. By weakening the trade winds that normally cross the Atlantic, it creates intense wind shear that dismantles developing storms before they can become hurricanes. The stronger the El Niño, the more violently it suppresses Atlantic activity.
But the same forces that quiet the Atlantic are amplifying the Pacific. Warmer waters and reduced shear on the Pacific side have already produced several major hurricanes, including Polo, one of the most powerful cyclones in decades. During El Niño years, Pacific typhoons tend to form farther east and track northward, raising the risk for Guam, Japan, and the Korean Peninsula. Meanwhile, the Indian Ocean sees its own disruptions — weakened monsoons, drought across South Asia, and suppressed cyclone activity near eastern Africa.
What makes 2026 especially sobering is not the storm map but the heat. El Niño is a natural cycle, but it is now colliding with a climate system already warmed by human activity. Scientists warn this combination could shatter global temperature records and, according to the Climate Impact Lab, drive nearly half a million additional heat-related deaths — concentrated in the Global South. The Atlantic may be quiet, but the world is absorbing the cost in other forms.
By late September in most years, the Atlantic hurricane season has already produced its share of major storms. In 2005, one of the most active seasons on record, five major hurricanes had already formed by this point in the calendar, including Katrina, which would become one of the deadliest in American history. But 2026 has unfolded in near silence. As of September 23, the North Atlantic had seen only six tropical storms develop, and not a single one had strengthened into a hurricane—a threshold that requires sustained winds of at least 119 kilometers per hour. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, this marks the first time since satellites began tracking Atlantic storms in 1966 that a season has reached this point without producing even one hurricane.
Matthew Rosencrans, the lead hurricane season forecaster at NOAA's Climate Prediction Center, described the moment plainly: "In the satellite era, we have never had a year without a hurricane. This would be a first." The accumulated cyclone energy—a measurement that combines storm duration and intensity—has hit a record low for this late in the season, which typically peaks around September 10. The reason for this historic quiet lies largely in the Pacific Ocean, where a powerful natural climate pattern called El Niño is reshaping weather systems across the globe.
El Niño, part of the larger El Niño-Southern Oscillation cycle, emerges roughly every two to seven years and can influence weather worldwide for up to a year. The pattern works through shifts in ocean temperatures and wind patterns over the Pacific. This year's version is among the strongest on record, with sea surface temperatures in key Pacific regions now exceeding 3 degrees Celsius above normal. When El Niño strengthens, the trade winds that typically push weather systems westward across the Atlantic weaken or even reverse direction. This disruption ripples upward through the atmosphere, altering the jet stream and the humidity patterns that fuel hurricane formation. The result is increased wind shear—sharp changes in wind speed and direction at different altitudes—that tears apart developing storms before they can organize into hurricanes. Rosencrans explained the mechanism: "Formations deep in the tropics are hampered due to high wind shear. The stronger the El Niño event, the stronger the wind shear."
Yet this same El Niño is simultaneously intensifying storms on the opposite side of the Pacific. In the eastern and central Pacific, where warmer waters and reduced wind shear create ideal conditions for cyclone development, the season has already produced several major hurricanes, including Polo, which this week intensified into one of the most powerful Pacific cyclones in decades. The pattern shifts where storms form and how they move. Typically during El Niño, Pacific typhoons develop farther east, toward the international date line and the Marshall Islands, giving them longer lifespans before reaching land. Anne-Claire Fontan, a scientific officer with the World Meteorological Organization's Tropical Cyclone Program, noted that storms on the Asian side of the Pacific tend to track northward rather than westward during El Niño years, meaning Guam, the Northern Mariana Islands, Japan, and the Korean Peninsula face elevated odds of tropical storms and typhoons.
The Indian Ocean tells a similar story of disruption. Strong El Niño conditions weaken monsoon winds over the Indian subcontinent, often triggering severe drought, while simultaneously suppressing tropical cyclone activity through increased wind shear. Countries in eastern Africa, including Madagascar and Mozambique, face reduced cyclone risk as a result. Fontan described the relationship as non-linear: as El Niño moves toward its extremes, tropical cyclone activity in the Indian Ocean basin tends to drop below normal.
El Niño itself is a natural phenomenon, not caused by human activity, and Rosencrans emphasized that it represents only one factor among many that determine hurricane season intensity. Saharan dust drifting across the Atlantic can also suppress storms. But what makes 2026 particularly concerning is the collision between this powerful natural pattern and the longer-term warming from climate change. Fontan warned that El Niño occurring in an already warming world can amplify its most destructive effects—extreme heat, heavy rainfall, and drought. The UK's Met Office has suggested that the combined influence could shatter global heat records in 2027. A report from the Climate Impact Lab at the University of Chicago projects that extreme heat during this El Niño period could cause nearly half a million additional deaths worldwide, with the heaviest toll falling on the Global South. Celeste Saulo, head of the World Meteorological Organization, issued a stark warning in early September: "We are already seeing the disruption and devastation caused by droughts and floods, and we expect these impacts to worsen as El Niño intensifies." The Atlantic may be spared from hurricanes this year, but the world is paying the price elsewhere.
Citations marquantes
In the satellite era, we have never had a year without a hurricane. This would be a first.— Matthew Rosencrans, NOAA Climate Prediction Center
We are already seeing the disruption and devastation caused by droughts and floods, and we expect these impacts to worsen as El Niño intensifies.— Celeste Saulo, World Meteorological Organization