Longer summers, shorter winters and growing concern across Japan. Is the country’s beloved four-season cycle starting to fade?

Is Japan losing its four seasons? The country loves ’em. Spring, summer, autumn, winter: shiki (四季, four seasons). Ask almost anyone, and it will come up. To locals, each season comes with its own traditions and activities, from hanami in spring to beach holidays in summer, momiji in autumn and skiing in winter.

Lately, however, a new word has been doing the rounds: niki (二季, two seasons). Niki recently made it into Japan’s top 10 buzzwords, and a survey found that nearly 87% of Japanese respondents were worried about the increasingly common phenomenon. There is growing anxiety that Japan’s famous four seasons are slowly collapsing into a long, punishing hot season followed by a short, cool one.

Why Japan’s Seasons Matter

[

](http://cdn.gaijinpot.com/app/uploads/sites/4/2026/02/ayanonnon-PIXTA-Japan-Losing-Four-Seasons-1.jpeg)A world where “favorite season” is a two-option question.

When Japanese people explain what makes Japan “special,” the seasons often top the list. In a nationwide survey, “四季がある (shiki ga aru, having four seasons)” was the second-most commonly cited reason people said they loved their country. It even beat Japanese food. Japanese food is often the number one thing people say they miss when traveling. That gives you a sense of how deeply the seasons are valued.

Sensitivity to the seasons has long been a defining feature of Japanese culture. Shiki has shaped everything from classical poetry, such as the Manyoshu, to modern popular music, including artists like Minmi and Mai Kuraki. You can see it clearly in haiku. Poets use seasonal words (kigo) to evoke the time of year and the imagery that comes with it.

Even things visitors may not immediately notice shift with the seasons. Food packaging changes color palettes throughout the year, while convenience stores and coffee chains rotate limited-edition seasonal flavors. Clothing trends are also highly seasonal, with fast-fashion brands constantly adjusting to changing temperatures.

Everyday conversation reflects this awareness too. Instead of simply asking how someone is, people often open with comments about the heat (atsui), the cold (samui), the rain (ame) or pollen (kafun).

This is why the sense that the boundaries between the seasons—boundaries that have shaped Japanese culture for thousands of years—are beginning to dissolve feels so deeply unsettling to many people.

Is Shiki Disappearing?

[

](http://cdn.gaijinpot.com/app/uploads/sites/4/2025/07/iStock-Hanafujikan-summer-heat-most-dangerous-things-in-Japan.jpeg)Like 180 days straight of this, into freezing cold.

Researchers at Mie University and Niigata University analyzed Japan Meteorological Agency data to examine long-term weather trends. Using 42 years of records, they defined summer as the period when daily average temperatures exceeded the top 25% of each year’s temperature range, with the first and last such days marking the season’s start and end.

Their findings showed that the start of summer has shifted earlier by about 12.6 days, while the end of summer is now delayed by roughly 8.8 days compared with earlier records. In practical terms, summer is stealing nearly three weeks from spring and autumn, creating a season that can last up to a third of the year in central and southern Japan.

Despite these sweltering trends, winters have changed relatively little, even in the southern regions. Cold air from the Asian continent continues to keep winter conditions distinctly chilly.

In a follow-up interview, one of the senior researchers, Professor Tachibana, suggested that Japan could eventually shift from shiki to niki, as summer continues to expand, leaving only a long, hot season and a short, cool one.

These findings add to a growing body of research pointing to climate change as the underlying cause, with wide-ranging effects across Japan. These include:

• More intense and frequent heatwaves

• Disruption of long-established weather patterns

• Warmer seas that delay autumn cooling due to residual ocean heat

• Increased risk of extreme weather linked to phenomena such as El Niño, the North Pacific High and the Indian Ocean Dipole

• Stronger urban heat island, where cities trap heat due to concrete and machinery, making urban areas an estimated two to five degrees hotter than surrounding rural regions

What Happens If the Seasons Blur?

[

](http://cdn.gaijinpot.com/app/uploads/sites/4/2026/02/iStock-PuiStocker65-Japan-losing-four-seasons.jpeg)Remember when people could wear scarves in “autumn.”

This raises an obvious question: why is this such a problem? After all, Japan is far from the only country experiencing climate-driven weather changes. In fact, having four clearly defined seasons is relatively unusual in much of Asia. Across large parts of Southeast Asia, for example, people do not expect crisp autumn days or gentle spring weather, but long stretches of heat, humidity and rain.

In Japan, however, the impact would go far beyond confusing weather apps.

One of the most immediate effects would be on tourism. Despite Japan’s love–hate relationship with Instagrammers and snap-happy visitors, unpredictable cherry blossom blooms or increasingly short autumn foliage seasons would disrupt an industry valued at ¥9.5 trillion.

Entire industries are also built around seasonality. Reports from the Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries suggest that rice cultivation, fruit farming and fisheries are already feeling the strain. Recent record-breaking summers have led to:

• Deterioration in rice quality, particularly in top-grade varieties

• Sunburn and coloring issues in grapes and mikans

• Reduced yields of apples, grapes and citrus fruits

Similarly, Reuters has reported:

• Declining catches of salmon, mackerel and squid

• Sea urchin harvests are falling to around half their usual levels in some regions

Is There Any Hope?

[

](http://cdn.gaijinpot.com/app/uploads/sites/4/2026/02/iStock-Jui-Chi-Chan-Japan-cherry-blossoms.jpeg)At least Japan is still beautiful.

Japan has a long history of adaptation. It is a country that has rebuilt itself repeatedly, reinterpreted tradition to fit modern life, and embraced the idea that beauty can exist even in impermanence. Mono no aware, the awareness that all things are transient, remains one of Japan’s most enduring concepts.

There are also signs of progress. Japan and other nations agreed on strengthened climate commitments at COP30. New partnerships are channeling finance into climate resilience and transition. Japan’s push into offshore wind and other renewables also shows how policy and innovation can help steer change.

That said, Japan is not losing its seasons overnight. Spring still arrives, the leaves still turn and winter still bites. But the shape of the year is changing. Longer summers and shorter shoulder seasons do not just make life uncomfortable. They shift the timing of festivals, harvests and travel, and they change how people relate to the calendar that has quietly structured everyday life for generations.

Maybe Japan will always talk about shiki. The question is what those seasons will feel like in the future, and how much of the culture built around them can survive if the old boundaries keep moving. There is a growing awareness that the “good old days” were not that long ago, and that there is still time to protect what remains if people choose to value it.

Have you noticed the change where you live? What feels different now compared with even five or ten years ago? Let us know in the comments.