Getty Images; Alyssa Powell/BI
Maya Haddad Miller has long been fixated on weather apps — especially how they hit her bottom line. Haddad Miller and her dad own Brooklyn Beach Shop in Coney Island, New York, which sells souvenirs and beach gear. When a little rain icon pops up on the ubiquitous weather apps on any given day, it can cut business in half, she says, whether any rain falls or not. "When you talk about weather forecasts, that's our life — we eat, breathe, everything the weather," she says.
This became such a hobby horse for Haddad Miller that, for a while, she kept a spreadsheet comparing forecasts with actual weather data to track discrepancies. A decade ago, she took the issue up with then-Lieutenant Gov. Kathy Hochul during the politician's visit to the beachside neighborhood. As they stood on the rooftop of a local restaurant, taking in the ocean view, she asked whether anything could be done about the way apps display the weather.
"You have so many businesses statewide that are affected by these false forecasts," she recalls telling Hochul. "A lot of times, it's beautiful out here, but it's very slow. We're selling less. We're contributing less taxes to the city, the state."
Hochul didn't have much to say back then, but Haddad Miller's crusade continues — and while her complaint may sound niche, she's onto a surprisingly significant predicament.
Every day, millions of people plan their lives around the default weather apps on their smartphones. The thing is, their super-simplified designs flatten what are, in reality, complex, highly localized, probabilistic forecasts. Distilling an entire forecast into basic high-to-low temperature ranges and simple sun or rain icons is a fraught task. And when things go wrong, there are tangible consequences: Empty beaches, canceled tee times, and ruined weekends. The little cloud icon of doom leads to real economic damage for businesses, and a nation of would-be customers sitting on the couch on a perfectly nice Saturday, realizing too late that they could have taken the family to the water park after all.
Nicolò Campo/LightRocket via Getty Images
The problem with your run-of-the-mill weather apps isn't the meteorology, it's the translation.
Ironically, the science behind forecasting has never been better, says Daniel Swain, a climate scientist at the Institute of the Environment and Sustainability at UCLA. Behind every tiny icon sits an enormous amount of data: physics-based computer models, satellite observations, radar, weather stations, and, increasingly, AI systems that process it all. Forecasters often compare and blend multiple models to give the most accurate reads.
That complexity largely disappears once it reaches your phone. A single image represents the dominant conditions for an entire day, even if those conditions are expected to vary widely. And apps often don't do the type of complex analysis that human meteorologists do.
"Rather than leveraging the sum and totality of this incredible wealth of sophisticated meteorological information that's out there, they're just kind of saying, 'Eh, screw it, let's just pick one of these data sources,'" he says. "When you do that, you're kind of wedded to that one data source, which may or may not be the single best option in a given context."
Basic weather apps are OK for getting a "first glance" at what the weather might be, says Jason Furtado, an associate professor of meteorology at the University of Oklahoma, but they fall short on the details. Weather can be hyperlocal — a storm hits one part of town and not another — and a general sketch of the day often brushes over the small events that matter. Many generic weather apps also aren't good at tracking rapidly evolving weather situations. People don't need to know that it might snow at some point during the day in a 100-mile radius — they need to know what time and how severe.
"These apps, if you actually look at it, let's say hour to hour, it'll change," Furtado says. "That's not really helpful, especially if you're trying to make a decision."
Developers can't be blamed for everything — the apps have a user error issue, too. People have a hard time interpreting weather-related probabilities, whether they come from their phone screen or the local forecaster. When a source says there's a 20% chance of rain, it generally means there is a 20% probability that at least 0.01 inch of rain will fall somewhere in a certain coverage area. Some people will interpret 20% as 0% and get mad when they're caught in the rain. Others will decide it's too risky and stay inside, only to get frustrated when nothing happens.
"You already had that foundational misunderstanding of things like percent chance of rain, the difference between watch and warning," says J. Marshall Shepherd, a professor of geography and atmospheric sciences at the University of George and former president of the American Meteorological Society. "Now you throw these uber-convenient apps in the pockets and purses of everybody on the planet."
People regularly ask Shepherd for a weather forecast, and after he responds, counter with, "....but my app says." He says the counter does get to him occasionally: "I wish I had a dollar for every time someone has said that to me, I'd be retired."
The economy is totally dedicated by an icon on the phone.
Some forecasts come with a "wet bias" that can overstate the likelihood of precipitation to manage expectations and avoid an outraged public if they get it wrong. Research shows that weather apps often present excessively detailed, unrealistic forecasts far into the future without making their confidence levels (or lack thereof) clear. In other words, that sun symbol on your phone 10 days from now may be pretty meaningless.
"Rarely do they include any estimate of uncertainty," says Susan Joslyn, a professor emeritus of psychology at the University of Washington.
The lack of nuance embedded in weather apps is a problem for more than your planning peace of mind. Overconfidence can also knock local economies, especially those that are seasonal or depend heavily on the weather's cooperation for their financials to work. One study recently presented at the American Economic Association found that when precipitation is overpredicted, local businesses suffer a measurable, immediate drop in foot traffic and consumer spending, even when the weather conditions on the ground are fine. Retail, food service, and entertainment are particularly hurt. The researchers found that investment in improving forecasts could have "significant downstream benefits for local economies."
The local economies in question, of course, are well aware.
Rob Bryn, a musician in Rockaway Beach, New York, tells me that when he first started bartending by the beach in 2011, families would still show up on a rainy day and make the best of it. Now, Mom wakes up, sees the rain cloud on her phone, and nixes the trip, even if the rain is only predicted for half an hour late at night.
"They don't take the chance anymore," Bryn says. "It'd be a beautiful day, and there'd be nobody there, and I'd be like, 'Damn, these sheep are so easily controlled by this icon on their phone.'"
Bryn follows a local Instagram account for weather updates. In its bio, the account owner says it reports live from the area "because the weather apps are always wrong." He's considered trying to get in touch with someone at Apple to explain the effects of their weather app when it overstates the chance of rain or clouds. "I don't think they even realize the effect they're having on places like Rockaway Beach, they're just trying to tell you to bring an umbrella," he says.
Steven Cohen, the vice president of the Brooklyn Cyclones, a minor league baseball team, says he wishes fans would use more detailed weather apps that better pinpoint probabilities. "There are days when we get nothing, it's beautiful out, and the rain storm may clip the Bronx and the Yankees get it," he says. He's lucky in that spectators often buy their tickets in advance, meaning they may not be deterred by a chance of rain on the day of the game unless the Cyclones are forced to call off the game for safety reasons. It also means that if people are looking at predictions days out and see a cloud, they'll decide to make other plans. "It's already in people's heads that it's going to be bad weather," he says.
The afternoon I talked to Adam Rinn, the director of Coney Island Inc., a nonprofit that hosts various shows and events, he told me his weather app had forecast rain all afternoon, but thus far, no precipitation had appeared. "Well, it's now 3, and we had a little thunder, but no rain," he says. "If you look at the radar, the rain just skirted us."
Mike Bengston, general manager of Splish Splash Water Park on Long Island, says people worried about app-based forecasts should realize it may actually be a great time to visit. Enough people are spooked by the lack of sun, meaning smaller crowds. "The days where it does look a little bit iffier, you are going to have shorter lines if things work out," he says.
The effects of weather apps on behavior can vary across a range of factors. When there are hotels in an area and therefore overnight tourists, customers tend to show up rain or shine because staying home isn't an option. Cancellation policies and reservations matter, too — if you're dinged $100 for canceling your boat tour, you may think twice before making the call.
Nick Ribeiro, who runs Preserved Links, a private golf club for aficionados, tells me he regularly gets texts days before events from people asking if it's still on, given the forecast on their phones. A lot of the time, he's already paid the golf course, so he has to scramble to find a replacement player or urge the doubter to show up. "There's always a reason not to play, so if the weather gets between you and the tee, it's an easy route to bail on your round of golf," he says.
This all creates operational headaches, too. Business owners have to decide how much staffing they need based not only on what the weather might be, but also on what customers think it might be. Golf courses need to rebook tee times that were reserved weeks in advance. For seasonal businesses, every day counts, and faux rainy days can be devastating.
"The economy is totally dedicated by an icon on the phone," Bryn says.
This isn't just an American problem, either: In March, over 100 British attractions wrote an open letter to the Met Office — the UK's national weather and climate service — warning that misleading rain icons on popular weather apps were costing them thousands of pounds in revenue a day.
The weather app forecast is a tough dilemma to tackle. People like the convenience of taking a quick look at the weather on their phones instead of waiting for the 8s on the Weather Channel or tuning into the local news. But the area meteorologist may very well have a better idea of what's going on and be able to explain it in more detail.
There's a delicate balance between informing and overwhelming users, says Dan DePowdin, the director of forecast operations at AccuWeather, which has been in the forecasting business for 60 years. People want to spend 30 seconds or less in the morning checking what the day will bring and seeing what to watch out for. The challenge is delivering that to them in a straightforward, helpful way. "Within just one screen, you can get a lot of information, but there's still a lot of blank space to let your eye not be totally consumed," he says.
People like the convenience of taking a quick look at the weather on their phones instead of waiting for the 8s.
Not all weather apps are created equal — some have a real depth of information, others cover the basics. And sifting through their quality is likely to become harder, given the rise of vibe coding and developers' ability to spin up a new product overnight.
There's a wide gulf between a developer using a $9 a month API and an enterprise weather intelligence company, says Eric Floehr, the founder and CEO of ForecastWatch, which monitors and analyzes forecast accuracy. "You often do get what you pay for," he says.
The stakes are high, too. The most benign version of a weather app mishap is when the emoji says it's going to rain when, in reality, there's not a cloud in the sky. The scariest version is when someone doesn't notice a possible lightning strike or tornado because they're just focused on a number or image on display.
Until and unless developers overhaul how they present probability and uncertainty, meteorologists advise treating standard apps as a cursory check, not gospel. They say people should instead look to their local meteorologist or the National Weather Service for guidance, or even call the golf course or amusement park ahead of time to see what's going on. Human expertise still matters. They also note that people shouldn't take their phone app being wrong as evidence that all forecasts are wrong — many meteorologists told me that bad digital forecasts give the whole industry a bad name.
The day I spoke with Haddad Miller from Coney Island, the weather forecast showed a string of glorious, sun-filled days. She was cautiously optimistic about what it would mean for business, but not over the moon.
"Saturday should be spectacular," she says. "Theoretically. Unless they come in and put in a rain emoji the day before and then take it away."
Emily Stewart is a senior correspondent at Business Insider, writing about business and the economy.
from Business Insider https://ift.tt/Nodb7Gf
No comments:
Post a Comment