The Winter Olympics are in jeopardy, and it’s not just about the athletes’ performance. Climate change is reshaping the very landscape of winter sports, threatening the future of this global event. As Belgian biathlete Maya Cloetens prepares for the upcoming Games in Milan and Cortina, Italy, she can’t ignore the stark reality unfolding around her. The mountains above Grenoble, France, where she honed her skills, are a haunting reminder of what’s at stake. Once a winter wonderland, Grenoble—host of the 1968 Winter Olympics—now faces shorter, milder winters with inconsistent snowfall. But here’s where it gets even more alarming: by the 2050s, only 52 out of 93 current winter sports locations will be suitable for hosting the Games, according to research by professors Daniel Scott and Robert Steiger. And this number could plummet to just 30 by the 2080s. Is this the beginning of the end for the Winter Olympics as we know them?
The International Olympic Committee (IOC) is scrambling to adapt. Karl Stoss, chair of the Future Host Commission, reveals that the IOC is considering rotating the Games among a permanent pool of suitable locations and moving them earlier in the season. And this is the part most people miss: the Paralympic Games, held two weeks after the Olympics, are even more vulnerable. Scott and Steiger suggest starting both events three weeks earlier to nearly double the number of reliable host locations. But even this solution relies heavily on advanced snowmaking technology, which comes with its own set of challenges.
Snowmaking: A temporary fix or a long-term solution? Manufactured snow has become a lifeline for winter sports, with Beijing 2022 relying almost entirely on it. For Milan-Cortina, the organizing committee plans to produce nearly 2.4 million cubic meters of snow—a stark contrast to the 1956 Cortina Games, which used no artificial snow. Companies like TechnoAlpin are pushing the boundaries, creating snow in temperatures well above freezing. But here’s the catch: snowmaking demands immense energy and water, potentially worsening climate change if powered by fossil fuels. For Milan-Cortina, renewable energy is the answer, but what about future hosts? Is this sustainable in the long run?
The environmental toll doesn’t stop there. Building high-elevation water reservoirs for snowmaking disrupts natural ecosystems, and the water requirements are staggering—946 million liters for Milan-Cortina alone. But without water, there are no Games, as hydrology professor Carmen de Jong bluntly puts it. The IOC is urging hosts to minimize water and electricity use, but here’s the controversial question: will this be enough, or do we need to rethink the scale of the Olympics entirely? Fewer sports, fewer athletes, fewer spectators—could this be the future?
The IOC’s choices for future hosts reflect this shifting reality. The 2030 Games return to the French Alps, and Salt Lake City is set for 2034. Switzerland is in talks for 2038, praised for its existing infrastructure and public transportation. But is this just a band-aid solution? As Diana Bianchedi, chief strategy officer for Milan-Cortina, puts it, ‘This is the point where we have to change.’ But what does that change look like? Should we prioritize preserving the Olympics’ grandeur, or is it time to scale back for the sake of the planet?
The Winter Olympics have always been a celebration of human resilience and natural beauty. But as the climate crisis deepens, we’re forced to confront a harsh truth: the very essence of these Games is at risk. What do you think? Can the Winter Olympics survive in a warming world, or is it time to reimagine this global tradition? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation that could shape the future of winter sports.
