Who Says Japan Is Quiet?!
Who Says Japan Is Quiet?! – This article continues my Memoirs series, in which I highlight my personal experiences in both Canada and Japan. How do these experiences relate to one another? This article explores the perspectives of people from both countries regarding noise levels. Perhaps this tale will be as profound for you as it was for me.
Of Canada and Japan, which country do you feel is noisier? Let’s find out.
Intro to Who Says Japan Is Quiet?
As a long-time teacher of Japanese students, I’ve had countless discussions about the differences between countries. One topic that keeps coming up? Noise levels. Time and again, students who have traveled abroad insist that other countries are far noisier than Japan.
Having spent enough time in both Japan and abroad myself, I figured it was about time I weighed in on the matter.
A Shouting Match: Who Shouts the Loudest?
Returning to Canada after five years in Japan, I was hit with an auditory explosion—my family’s voices, cranked to eleven. (The birth of my tinnitus!). North America seems to have mastered the art of volume. Japan, on the other hand, relies on a more subtle approach—gestures. Yet, those gestures, when deciphered, can sting as much as a shout. (Luckily, I haven’t figured out my wife’s yet … or have I?)
Of course, Japan has its loud moments too. Try surviving a family restaurant where a gaggle of women, believing themselves discreet, verbally dismantle their husbands, teachers, and neighbors. My wife, sitting across the restaurant, translates every word—a mild form of dinner entertainment.
Then there’s Mount Aso’s annual scream fest, where prizes go to the loudest yellers. Those women? Potential champions.
As I mentioned in my previous article, An Experience That Made Me Laugh While Living in Japan, it’s not uncommon for your eardrums to explode upon walking into a retail shop—especially during a sale or if the clerks have drowned themselves in energy drinks. Their high-pitched helium shouts are legendary!
So no, Japan isn’t entirely innocent when it comes to vocal volume. But overall? I have to say—Japan is quieter.
Canada: An Alarming Motorized Symphony
One thing I didn’t miss about Canada? Car alarms. They had a knack for going off at the slightest provocation—whether it was a wayward breeze or the sheer existence of an empty parking garage (Highlander reference). Meanwhile, Japan seems to have either fewer of these alarms or there are fewer errant winds. Another point for Japan!
The Cocktail Party Effect - Psychology 101
Before I condemn either country any further, here’s some science: Selective auditory attention—aka the cocktail party effect—allows us to focus on relevant sounds while filtering out the chaos. That’s why, in a crowded room, you magically pick up on someone saying your name.
Put simply, we tune out sounds we don’t need to focus on (selective hearing) so we can free up mental space to remain alert to anything important or potentially threatening (think of it as a built-in warning mechanism). If we fully opened up our auditory senses, we’d be drowned in ambient noise, overwhelmed by every sound in our environment.
That said, this concept will prove highly relevant as my story unfolds.
Cheers for being such apt students! Now, let’s get back to it.
The Windows That Let the World In
Japan’s soundscape feels more intense not just because of the noise itself, but how much of it reaches you.
In Canada, multi-layered windows—double or even triple-pane—mute outside sounds to a barely noticeable hum, designed for insulation and peace. Japan, however, traditionally favors single-pane windows, prioritizing flexibility over soundproofing due to humidity, earthquakes, and historical architecture.
The result? External sounds fully infiltrate indoor spaces unless you are rich and have new … I am not. Sigh.
Yay?!
The Many Voices of Japan: Are They Quiet?
Beyond just architecture, Japan embraces shared noise—from citywide announcements to election vans to personality-packed trains—making sound an unavoidable public experience.
Insects: Japan’s Natural Alarm Clock
I was deep into a PC game when an alarm blared outside. Confused, I checked the window—nothing. Then it happened again. And again.
The culprit? A summer cicada on my balcony—loud, large, and unapologetic. Walk beneath a tree full of these buzzing bagpipes, and you might instinctively cover your ears. Their relentless droning can make the trees feel alive—or just really annoyed.
In the forests, their song amplifies, turning into something both deafening and oddly soothing—unless one decides to camp on your balcony, in which case it’s just intrusive.
Strangely, when I returned to Canada, I missed their “serenade”. Funny how selective hearing works.
Mikoshi Procession: The Drums That Don’t Believe in Sleep
Each July, rural Japan delivers the ultimate wake-up call: the mikoshi procession and its overly enthusiastic taiko drum troupe—both barreling through town at 6:30 a.m.
The mikoshi—a portable shrine—is paraded through the streets with exaggerated swaying, while taiko drummers hammer away from a moving flatbed truck, seemingly fueled by pure adrenaline. Meanwhile, the shrine carriers shout and chant in rhythmic unison, their voices rising above the pounding drums, adding to the festival’s glorious cacophony.
Mountains make this worse. They don’t just hear the noise—they echo it back, doubling the impact. Again and Again.
It’s not so much a wake-up call as a clarion for the dead on a battlefield to rise.
The Cat Chronicles: Midnight Meows and Nerf Gun Justice
They say a picture says a thousand words. Just add in my Nerf Gun. Nuff’ Said.
The Bosozoku: Noise for Noise’s Sake
I have mentioned them in passing in my prior article about Hadano (my new hometown) itself, What Hadano Isn’t- And What that Says About What it Truly Is, but I feel at this point in time I should elaborate a bit further.
Some bikers modify their vehicles to be as loud as humanly possible, purely for attention.
Scooters without mufflers sound like chainsaws, cars with altered exhausts mimic construction vehicles, and one time—a modified dump truck rolled through, teeth-rattlingly loud, decorated in blinding neon streamers.
And they travel in packs—20 to 30 riders, revving their engines at agonizingly slow speeds, exclusively at night.
Mountains, naturally, amplify this nonsense.
What could be worse? A gaggle of jubilant housewives talking about their husbands while riding these bikes.
I swear, one day, I want to follow one of them home, wait until morning, and casually fire up a chainsaw right beside their bike and ‘on their bike’. Hehehe.
Japan’s Preoccupation with Noise: The Loudspeaker
Japan loves its loudspeakers, and it loves using them often.
In the winter months, you can hear the jubilant song of the gas truck, making its neighborhood rounds, delivering fuel door-to-door.
Throughout the year, the recycle van broadcasts its message, calling for discarded TVs, bikes, computers, lawnmowers—you name it—all blared out over a loudspeaker, naturally accompanied by another irritating tune.
Thankfully, this tradition has faded, but there was a time when sweet potato and tofu sellers did the same, announcing their wares with amplified enthusiasm. I suspect online sales and the gradual upgrade in window technology have pushed this method into near-obsolescence. Still, I can perfectly recall the sweet potato jingle.
Hadano’s Neighborhood Broadcasting System
From sunup to sundown, Hadano keeps its citizens informed via loudspeakers echoing against the mountains. Announcements range from heatstroke warnings to seasonal advisories—and during COVID, reminders to mask up and wash hands.
But the most frequent alert? Missing persons, usually elderly residents who have wandered off. It’s a thoughtful way to rally the community, but it happens… a lot. Thankfully, most are found, and Hadano swiftly relays the news—always with varying volume levels and different voices, keeping the town engaged (or mildly exasperated).
And yes, occasionally, there’s feedback—a piercing screech or a garbled, too-fast, too-slow announcement reminding you of the city’s ever-evolving sound system.
This doesn’t happen in Canada. Then again, there aren’t earthquakes or tsunamis to worry about there—as far as I know.
Election Season: A Seemingly Redundant Noise Invasion
Mini-campaign vans roll out, blaring speeches at absurd volume levels—but the audio? Garbled beyond recognition.
They move too fast, meaning voters only catch half a sentence before the van disappears down another street.
Nobody listens. Nobody watches. And yet, they wave.
At empty air.
Train Announcements: The Never-Ending Auditory Parade
Think Japanese train stations are just about getting from A to B? Think again.
Here, every arrival, departure, and schedule change gets the full loudspeaker treatment—whether you asked for it or not. Train jingles? Some are charming, others relentless earworms. Half of Japan has probably tuned them out by now, their brains absorbing them into subconscious static.
Contrast that with Canada—where stations are eerily quiet, no blaring speakers, just digital signs politely doing their job.
Living Near a Public School: The Daily Soundtrack
Public schools? Another soundscape altogether.
Beyond the usual school bells, Japan loves a good 6 p.m. neighborhood jingle, marking the end of the day. Cute, right? That is—until festival season. Sports Day, Culture Day, and what might as well be called “Let’s Be As Loud As Possible Day” turn schools into live venue Metallica concerts.
Between teachers wielding megaphones, a crackling PA system, and children operating at peak volume, it’s brutal.
Conclusion: Noise, Science, and the Art of Endurance
Why does Japan’s noise feel more intense?
It’s not just volume—it’s how sound is structured. Japan broadcasts noise. Whether it’s announcements, jingles, or election vans shouting at empty air, Japan doesn’t just make sound—it demands attention.
And here’s where psychology kicks in: the Cocktail Party Effect. Our brains filter background noise to focus on what’s relevant. But change countries, change environments, and suddenly—what once faded into the background becomes impossible to ignore.
Every siren, every speaker, every election truck—that’s Japan’s noise culture.
Who says Japan is quiet?!
So, who really wins the war on noise? Maybe it’s less about volume and more about the art of endurance.
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Well shared Japan is not quite
Thank you for reading Priti.
Great post 💜❤️💗 I wish you a happy Thursday 🌅 Blessings 🌷🏵️🌹