The Ministry of Health continues to warn: the right to breathe freely seems to be one of the last remaining free rights we have. As the saying goes, there’s a catch. Try taking a deep breath in Kyiv and the surrounding areas at the beginning of autumn, and you’ll quickly regret it. This year, September strolls outdoors were nearly impossible without a protective mask—an accessory we had almost forgotten since the COVID era, now gathering dust on a shelf among old, secondary items—or even a respirator, which authorities warned about in their Telegram channels. They also recommended keeping windows tightly shut and limiting time spent outside. Most people tend to treat such advice with the same skepticism that seasoned smokers have towards health warnings from the Ministry of Health on cigarette packs—essentially ignoring them. Similarly, warnings about an impending dust storm approaching from the Caspian Sea seem trivial against the backdrop of everything else happening around us. Nevertheless, air quality continues to deteriorate, and this trend is unfortunately a global issue. Over seventy years ago, there was no Chernobyl, no catastrophic levels of exhaust fumes in the atmosphere, and none of the pollution currently choking our rivers and oceans. Yet, back then, Europe faced an ecological disaster that led to tragic consequences and nearly obliterated an entire city.
The First Test for the Queen
1952 was a significant year for Great Britain. In February, following the death of her father, King George VI, 26-year-old Elizabeth II ascended the throne. Although her coronation didn’t take place until the summer of the following year, what happened at the end of 1952 was one of the first tests for the young queen on the throne. On December 5, Londoners, including members of the royal family and the Prime Minister, opened their curtains and drapes that morning only to find… well, to be precise, they couldn’t see anything at all. The thick fog—typically a common occurrence in this area, after all, the country is known as Foggy Albion—was, in this case, a true anomaly of yellow-brown color, mixed with smoke, soot, and car exhaust, that enveloped the city for a full five days. That year, an early winter hit Britain, and it was significantly colder than usual. Consequently, coal consumption surged, and the quality of coal was often subpar. Ordinary citizens huddled by their fireplaces to escape the cold, while industrial plants within the city belched smoke like steam engines, and in this case, it was quite similar.
The next day, the smog—a blend of the English words “smoke” and “fog”—became so dense that visibility in some areas of the city dropped to just one meter. Navigating the streets became extremely dangerous; citizens left their cars in the middle of the road and walked, leading to tragic incidents where vehicles struck pedestrians due to the near-total lack of visibility. Public transport, aside from the underground, came to a halt. Of course, any air travel was out of the question for the following week. The thick fog also paralyzed emergency services: hospitals were overwhelmed with patients suffering from severe coughs and lung issues, and they had to make their way there on their own.
From Oatmeal to Pea Soup
Poor air quality has been one of London’s main problems since the 13th century. Complaints about smoke and environmental pollution increased in the 17th century when ineffective legislation regarding coal burning was enacted during the reign of King James I. Rapid industrialization worsened these conditions. The city expanded, and coal usage became more prevalent, making thick fog a sort of trademark of the English capital by the 19th century. Most Britons considered such phenomena an inevitability and a kind of price to pay for the comfort that coal provided in their homes. Typically, the smoke from chimneys dispersed into the atmosphere, but in December 1952, an anticyclone settled over that part of the island, causing a temperature inversion: the smoke lingered close to the ground, resulting in a toxic sulfurous veil that covered the city for five days. What filmmakers would later depict in horror films and disaster movies was, at that time, the grim reality of London. Due to the unusual color of the substance, journalists dubbed it “pea soup,” a name that quickly caught on with the public.
Data from the British Meteorological Office indicated that from December 5 to 9, approximately 1,000 tons of smoke and soot particles, 2,000 tons of carbon dioxide, 140 tons of hydrochloric acid, 14 tons of fluorine compounds, and 370 tons of sulfur dioxide entered London’s air each day. This level of hazardous emissions was linked to the use of low-quality coal. As a result, there was a spike in respiratory infections, primarily pneumonia and bronchitis. Moreover, it wasn’t just people who suffered: during an agricultural exhibition in Smithfield, central London, 12 cows suffocated due to the soot-laden air, and another 160 fell ill. For the newly crowned queen, this was a shocking experience, but for Prime Minister Winston Churchill, the smog crisis was a significant test. The press, reflecting public sentiment, mercilessly criticized the government for its inaction. Indeed, the first thing British officials did was… wait for the fog to clear. Although, to be fair, it’s unclear how representatives of any other government would have acted in their place.
The opposition, led by Labour leader Clement Attlee, quickly seized the opportunity. The main complaint directed at the sitting Prime Minister was that there was a state of emergency in the capital, transport had come to a standstill, people were gasping for air, hospitals were overcrowded, and yet the government had said nothing, offered no hint of a response. In the fourth episode of the first season of Netflix’s “The Crown,” this scenario unfolds as Queen Elizabeth summons Churchill to the palace and asks what, exactly, is happening outside. “It’s just fog, and it will clear soon, Your Majesty,” the politician replies. However, if we are to believe the filmmakers’ artistic interpretation, the legendary Prime Minister held a briefing just a few days later in one of the hospitals, showcasing a masterclass in political PR and outmaneuvering his rivals. During this briefing, he announced a plan of action to combat the crisis, and by the next morning, newspapers were headlining: “A Strong Leader in Difficult Times.”
It took four years for the government to respond adequately: in 1956, the Clean Air Act was passed, prohibiting the burning of dirty fuels in several areas of the country. It established new environmental standards, including smoke-free zones, and banned vehicles with high emissions of soot. Homeowners were provided subsidies to convert their coal stoves. With minor modifications, this legislation is still in effect today, although the environmental issues of past years have now fallen on the shoulders of the new monarch, the next Prime Minister, and the recently re-elected mayor.