Can the Beauty of Seasons Move Us? Awe in Seasonal and Disaster Priming of Climate Change Responses

Climate change is often discussed in terms of rising temperatures, melting ice, and the increasing frequency of storms. These are physical realities with profound consequences, but they are not the only way people experience a warming world. For many, the changing climate also threatens the rhythm of the seasons themselves. The predictable arrival of spring blossoms, the vibrant colors of autumn leaves, and the quiet stillness of winter are not just weather patterns; they are cultural touchstones that shape art, tradition, and a deep sense of connection to the natural world. When these seasonal cycles become erratic or disappear, it can feel like a loss of beauty and identity, not just a shift in the weather. Scientists have long known that fear-based messages about disasters can sometimes make people feel overwhelmed or defensive, leading them to tune out. This raises a compelling question: could focusing on the beauty of nature and the cultural value of the seasons be a more effective way to inspire people to care for the environment?

Researchers in Japan set out to explore this idea by testing whether subtle, almost invisible reminders of seasonal beauty could shift people's attitudes and willingness to act. They focused on a specific emotion known as awe—a feeling of wonder and vastness that occurs when we encounter something that transcends our ordinary experience. Previous work suggests that feeling awe can make people feel smaller in a positive way, connecting them more deeply to others and to nature, and motivating them to be more generous and helpful. The researchers wondered if simply thinking about the beauty of the seasons could trigger this feeling of awe and, in turn, make people more likely to support climate action. To test this, they designed two experiments involving over a thousand participants. Instead of showing them alarming news reports or long educational texts, they used a scrambled sentence task. In this exercise, participants rearranged jumbled words to form meaningful sentences. For some, the sentences they built were about preserving the beauty of cherry blossoms and fireflies; for others, they were about preventing typhoons and heatwaves; and for a control group, the sentences were about neutral topics like community events. The goal was to see if these subtle linguistic cues could change how people felt and what they were willing to do.

The first experiment provided an intriguing hint. When participants were asked to build sentences about saving the seasons, those who naturally tended to feel awe more often in their daily lives reported stronger intentions to act in an environmentally friendly way. However, the researchers realized there was a flaw in how they measured this. Because they asked people about their tendency to feel awe after they had already done the sentence task, it was impossible to tell if the people were just feeling a temporary surge of awe from the task itself, or if they were genuinely more awestruck by nature to begin with. To get a clearer picture, the team conducted a second, more rigorous experiment. This time, they measured the participants' natural tendency to feel awe before they started the sentence task, and they measured their immediate feelings of awe right after. They also asked participants to donate a hypothetical amount of money to an environmental cause, providing a concrete measure of generosity alongside their stated intentions.

The results of the second study offered a more nuanced story. The subtle reminders of seasonal beauty did succeed in making people feel a small but measurable increase in awe. While the link between this feeling of wonder and a greater willingness to donate or act was not statistically significant in the full group of participants, a pre-registered sensitivity analysis revealed a clearer pattern when excluding the few participants who guessed the study's purpose. In this specific subgroup, the pathway from seasonal prompts to feelings of awe, and then to the desire to help, became statistically significant. However, the researchers noted that the effect size of the manipulation was small, leading them to conclude that while this pathway is likely real, it is thin. The effect was not a simple amplifier for everyone. The researchers found that people who already felt a deep connection to nature and were prone to awe were already highly motivated to act, regardless of the task they performed. The real power of the seasonal reminders was seen in those who did not naturally feel such strong awe. For these individuals, the subtle prompts about the beauty of the seasons actually raised their intentions to act, effectively bringing them up to the level of those who were already motivated. In other words, the intervention seemed to help those who needed it most, rather than just boosting those who were already on board.

Interestingly, the approach did not work the same way for everyone or for every type of message. When the researchers used sentences focused on disaster prevention, the results were inconsistent. In the first study, reminders of disasters seemed to lower people's willingness to donate, but in the second study, the effect flipped, and donations went up. This instability suggests that fear-based messages about disasters are unpredictable; they might trigger a defensive reaction in some people or a sense of urgency in others, making them a less reliable tool for communication. In contrast, the messages focused on the beauty of the seasons produced more consistent and positive responses across both studies. The researchers also noted that the effect of the seasonal messages was strongest when participants were not consciously aware that they were being influenced. When they excluded the few people who guessed the purpose of the study, the link between the seasonal prompts, the feeling of awe, and the desire to help became statistically significant, though the overall effect remained modest.

Ultimately, the study suggests that the path to environmental action is not one-size-fits-all. While the effects were modest, the findings point to a promising strategy: appealing to the aesthetic and cultural value of the seasons may be a more stable and effective way to engage people than focusing solely on the threats of disaster. By triggering a sense of awe and wonder, subtle reminders of nature's beauty can reach people who might otherwise feel disconnected from the issue, encouraging them to care for the world not just out of fear, but out of a desire to preserve its beauty. The research highlights that environmental communication is most effective when it is tailored to the recipient, recognizing that for many, the motivation to protect the planet lies in the love of what is beautiful, not just the fear of what is lost.