How Global Warming is Reshaping Japan's Soundscapes and Our Perception of Sound

The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly as I sought refuge from the main street's glare. Turning onto a side street, I hoped for a respite in the shade. The silence was unsettling. I was completely alone.

A nearby children's playground stood deserted, its slide radiating heat. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the monotonous drone of cicadas. A sense of unease settled over me, a feeling of isolation in the heart of the city.

Professor Koji Nagahata, a researcher of soundscapes, observed that the effects of global warming are now evident in our acoustic environments. He noted that it was "too hot for humans to be outside" and that this was turning into our "Silent Summer."

Nagahata's research began three decades ago, focusing on sound-related expressions in haiku from the Edo Period. His analysis revealed a shift in Japan's soundscapes. Haiku that once celebrated natural sounds, such as birdcalls and rain, had decreased, while poems reflecting everyday sounds, like human voices and traffic, became more prevalent.

These changes, gradual at first, accelerated from the 1980s onward. Nagahata attributed this not only to environmental changes but also to a potential "dulling sensitivity to sound" among the public. He pointed out that many people today can identify the sound of "higurashi" cicadas, but not other varieties.

has global warming brought about a "new silence"? The rumble of air conditioning units was the only sound I could hear.