Suffering Heat: Why Japan Is Reinventing the Language of Summer

In gadget-loving Japan, successive sweltering summers have led to bumper sales of wearable cooling devices such as neck fans and air-conditioned jackets. Coupled with concrete jungle effect and high humidity, the heat has become so oppressive that wearables have become indispensable for not only outdoor construction workers but daily commuters. Last summer, Japan recorded its highest ever temperature in Gunma (41.8 deg C) and in Tokyo alone, at least 123 people died of heat-related illness.

With an acceleration in global warming over the last 10 years, heat related impacts are not unique to Japan. However, Japan has emerged as a particularly vulnerable climate 'hotspot'  - with regional amplification effect making it warm faster than other areas, heat-vulnerable aging population and concerning agricultural trends in rice crop failure (in part contributing to the Reiwa Rice Crisis 令和の米騒動) and disrupted Katsuo migration patterns.  With a strong El Nino forecasted (which is associated with spikes in global surface air temperatures) and energy crisis brought upon by the Iran war, Japan is bracing for yet another brutal summer ahead.

Japan has a long history of negotiating severe natural catastrophes such as Earthquakes and Typhoons, but what is the prevailing attitude towards risks of climate change? Recent surveys reveal interesting and often paradoxical insights, suggesting strong concern but limited interest in climate policy particularly amongst the younger, under 40 segment which is at odds with the global experience.  As such, we explore - from a global perspective - the general public perception of climate risk, with particular focus on whether negative 'lived climate experience' such as heatwaves makes a significant difference. In addition, we opine on whether the JMA's innovative approach to new heat category naming convention will help both drive awareness and close the gap between awareness and action.

Why does climate skepticism persist?

Both general belief, and degree of support for climate action has seen a steady trend upwards over the past few decades, particularly amongst the younger generation. However, as evidenced by the outright dismissal of climate as an issue in countries such as the US or weakening of policy ambition in others (i.e. Europe Omnibus), climate has been recently slipping as a top concern (as per the WEF Global Risk Report, 2026), and increasingly supplanted by immediate cost of living and geopolitical shocks, as well as a strong pivot towards risks associated with generative AI.

To this end, it is tempting to blanket blame "climate denialists or skeptics" for seizing the opportunity to spread fake news to further thwart climate action. Instead, the reality is more nuanced, with 'non-denialists' a part of the problem. However, even amongst 'non-denialists' , research has highlighted a notable "psychological climate gap" between climate belief and climate action. This gap is the result of excess optimism about the effectiveness of climate policy, or that they personally will not be directly impacted (known as optimism bias) as well as inertia bias by sticking to the status quo as climate action often requires effort, cost and habit change.

The latent support of those with vested fossil interests into political and media campaigns, or even infiltration into climate policy conventions such as COP have been well documented. However, challenges within climate risk research and subsequent communication also contribute to the lack of trust in the integrity of climate science and in particular, the severity of its impacts. For example, with respect to economic impacts of due to physical climate change risk, the lack of inter disciplinary collaboration within authorship and review has led to questionable outcomes in widely cited papers. In fact, one such paper that was used as authoritative reference for de-facto financial climate stress tests around the world was subsequently found to contain errors and retracted. Further compounding this issue is the sensationalist (and oversimplified) reporting of the findings of these papers in mass media, leading to the 'crying climate wolf' effect which on the one hand emboldens denialists while on the other desensitizing non-denialists with each projection of doom and gloom that does not come to pass.

Over-simplified reporting may be a symptom of challenges in communicating climate risk in an easy to understand manner, but is still scientifically sound. To this end, let's consider the often used "100-year flood". In hydrological terms, this means a flood with a 1% annual exceedance probability. But the public hears “once a century” and concludes it cannot possibly happen to them. The reality is blatantly different: over a 30-year mortgage, a homeowner in a so-called 100-year floodplain faces roughly a 26% chance of experiencing that flood. A counter example of better communication lies in the terms like "rapid intensification" and the use of Saffir-Simpson categories that is almost universally understood when it comes to an intuitive appreciation of tropical cyclone risk severity.

From “Lived Experience” to Awareness to Action

It is intuitive to assume that as climate impacts intensify, lived experience will close the awareness gap. However, research consistently shows that direct experience with extreme events indeed changes risk perceptions, but not uniformly, not permanently, and not always in the expected direction.

Instead, perceptions shift depending on media coverage, political identity, cultural narratives and framing of the event - all underscored by underlying bias. Some people who survive disasters downplay them afterwards, buoyed by optimism bias. Others exhibit recency bias - i.e. with the urgency people feel in the weeks after a flood or heatwave tends to fade after several months. For example, if the words we use to describe an extreme event do not connect it to climate drivers, then lived experience reinforces a narrative of "bad luck" or "natural variability" rather than growing systemic risk. This is where the recent rise of extreme- event attribution helps to quantify how much more likely or intense an event was because of climate change. Alas, attribution studies typically appear weeks or months after the event. By then, the news cycle has moved on, and the public has already filed the disaster under "weather."

In some cases, lived experience has been thought to raise awareness to the point of pro-active action, especially when links to climate change are widely publicized. In Australia, the 2019–20 Black Summer bushfires, and subsequent East Coast widespread flood events are widely credited with shifting voter behavior in formerly conservative electorates, leading to the rise of climate-focused independent candidates. In Japan, successive typhoons in 2018–19 are understood to have helped to reinforce then-Prime Minister Suga's push towards GX (“Green Transformation”)  and greater commitment to net zero. On the flip side, climate change has been erroneously used as the scapegoat for driving large and 'unexpected' losses such as the devastating Cordoba floods in 2026 during what should have been the driest month. Instead, far larger drivers of that disaster, such as radical land use change over the preceding decades, barely registered a mention.

In other cases, a high level of risk awareness does not necessarily translate into a strong willingness to act. At a glance, risk perception and intention to act appear closely aligned. Multiple international surveys indicate strong awareness of climate change as a serious threat in the near future (> 80%) , with many believing (>70%) that it will bring individual harm and a willingness to change how they work and live to address it. However, this alignment weakens once action becomes tangible. Research by Andre et al. (2024) shows that only 48% of respondents in the US, UK, and Japan—and 56% in Australia—are willing to contribute even less than 1% of their monthly income to climate action. Meanwhile, a survey by Ipsos (2022) indicates that roughly half of this group have already experienced severe climate impacts locally. The pattern is clear: willingness holds when action remains abstract but declines when it requires concrete personal sacrifice, revealing a conditional commitment shaped by perceived costs.

This sense of economic burden is particularly pronounced in Japan. Meta and Yale (2021) show that 39% of respondents in Japan perceive climate action as economically harmful—higher than other major developed countries. At the same time, only 30% in Japan expect positive economic outcomes, compared to over 50% in those other countries. This lack of optimism is echoed by OECD (2022), where just 28% of Japanese respondents believe humanity can halt climate change by the end of the century. Together, these findings suggest that climate action in Japan is framed less as an opportunity than as a cost.

A generational divide further complicates engagement. Recent research by Sophia University (2025) reveals that less young people(20-39)  express both interest and concern in climate change compared to the older cohort (>60). This gap is particularly reflected in “climate nostalgia”—a sentimental attachment to the loss of Japan’s four seasons—with 49% of younger respondents expressing such feelings, compared to 75% of older generations. Taken together with other lines of evidence, the emerging narrative suggests that persistent, and repeated exposure to climate events such as rapid weather changes (in particular hotter summers) over time instills greater awareness. Therefore, older cohorts, having directly experienced more stable seasonal patterns, appear more attuned to environmental change, while younger people show weaker emotional and experiential connections to nature. This widening experiential gap suggests that climate communication in Japan must address not only economic concerns but also generational differences in how climate change is perceived, experienced, and understood.

Others have tried something similar. In 2022, Seville became the first city in the world to name a heatwave, designating a Category 3 event as “Heat Wave Zoe.” The results were underwhelming, where only 6% of surveyed residents could recall the name without prompting. But despite a modest out-reach, those who remembered Zoe were more likely to take protective actions: staying indoors, drinking more water, and checking on neighbours.

Here, the JMA is doing something fundamentally different. By crowdsourcing the terminology, they are creating public ownership of the category itself. Citizens are not merely receiving a warning, they are participating in defining the threat. This distinction is subtle but important - with behavioural research suggesting that people engage more deeply with risks they have helped to frame. Japan, notably, already does this well for other hazards. The shindo earthquake intensity scale communicates felt impact rather than magnitude, making it immediately intuitive. Tsunami warnings are categorical, urgent, and designed  for instant public response. The institutional DNA for effective hazard communication exists. The question is whether it can be extended to slower-onset, climate-driven threats where the danger is less dramatic but cumulatively more deadly.

Using language that compels action

If the JMA’s experiment is successful, its blueprint could extend well beyond Japan. The experiment challenges convention:  instead of by asking why the public does not respond to climate warnings, it asks whether the warnings were ever relatable BY the public.

For floods, that might mean replacing “100-year” with something that conveys lifetime probability, informing homeowners that they face a 26% chance of a severe flood event over the lifetime of their mortgage. For heat, it means naming the thing in language that triggers the same sense of urgency and seriousness as a named storm , thus closing the knowledge gap between experts and the public at large. In fact, there is successful precedent evidenced from the legal community. Reforms to shift from legalese to plain language judgements resulted in ordinary people being better able to understand proceedings, and navigate court decisions.

The JMA’s crowdsourcing approach also challenges the notion that ‘experts know best’, instead empowering naming to people who have to live with the risk. Letting the public name the danger is, in itself, an act of risk communication with the aim of creating a virtuous cycle by drawing upon collective experience and perception of the public to shape the language that conveys urgency and prompts action.

As Japan prepares for another summer that may well be its hottest on record, the race is on to find the right word.

References:

Andre P. et al., Globally representative evidence on the actual and perceived support for climate action, Nature Climate Change, 2024

Dablander F., Climate hazard experience linked to increased climate risk perception worldwide, Environmental Research Letters, 2025

Ghasemi O., et al., A decade of weather anomalies and natural disasters and their influence on environmental beliefs and actions across Australia, Journal of Environmental Psychology, 2026

Hommerich, C. et al., Sophia University Climate Survey 2025: Data Report. Public Beliefs, Behaviour, and Emotions Regarding Climate Change in Japan, Sophia University, Tokyo, 2025

IPSOS, Attitudes to Climate Change, IPSOS, 2022

Leiserowitz A. et al , International Public Opinion on Climate Change, Meta and Yale, 2021

Metzger A. et al., Beliefs and behaviours associated with the first named heat wave in Seville Spain 2022, Nature Scientific Reports 2024

Pui and Pitman, Science Integrity, (mis)communication and risks of crying climate wolf, UNSW Press, 2023

Meyer and Kunreuther, The Ostrich Paradox: Why we Underprepare for Dsisasters,  Wharton Digital Press, 2017

World Economic Forum, The Global Risks Report 2026, 21st Ed., Geneva,  World Economic Forum, 2026

「極暑日」「超猛暑日」　40度以上の新名称、13案でアンケート実施,  Nikkei , 2026