Recently, I came across a rather heartbreaking incident: a blizzard in Hokkaido trapped more than 7,000 tourists at the airport. The story behind it is far more complicated than it seems at first glance.

First, let’s talk about just how severe the situation was at the time. In Sapporo’s Chuo Ward, the snowfall within 48 hours reached 65 centimeters— the biggest storm since 1999. In some areas, the snowdrifts topped 1 meter. New Chitose Airport was basically overwhelmed. On the 25th alone, 56 flight routes were canceled, leaving roughly 7,000 travelers stranded at the airport overnight. On the 26th, another 90-plus flights were canceled, and by the early hours of the 27th, more than 2,000 people were still stuck. The ground transportation situation was even worse: in Hokkaido, more than 500 train trips were suspended, and travel plans for 130,000 people were thrown into chaos. There were lines of hundreds of people for taxis. Some people even spent 3,000 to arrange a shared ride from the airport to the city area—10 times the usual price.

You might ask: doesn’t Japan often get snow? Why couldn’t they handle this one? Actually, there are quite a few behind-the-scenes reasons. First, the intensity of this Hokkaido blizzard truly exceeded expectations. The snow fell hard and fast, and even with the airport’s snow-removal equipment running nonstop 24 hours a day, it still couldn’t keep up. Second, there were problems with emergency supplies. Food at convenience stores was snapped up instantly, and the airport couldn’t even provide basic blankets or hot water. There was also the issue of multilingual services not keeping pace: with a large number of Chinese tourists trapped, most broadcasts and instruction signs had only Japanese and English, and not being able to communicate made people even more anxious.

But if you look deeper, this blizzard in Hokkaido exposed some underlying problems in Japanese society. In recent years, Hokkaido has been suffering serious population outflow, with fewer and fewer young workers. Most snow-removal teams are made up of older people, and their physical capacity can’t keep up. With declining local tax revenue, there’s also less money available for maintaining infrastructure. The result is that roads and power grids become more fragile during blizzards, creating a vicious cycle.

In fact, the country’s repeated reminders not to visit Japan are not just said casually. Beyond this Hokkaido blizzard, Japan has recently had a number of safety risks as well. At the same time the heavy snow hit, security in multiple regions of Japan worsened, and theft and scam cases targeting Chinese citizens increased. Also, earthquakes occurred one after another from western Honshu to Hokkaido, and some disaster areas still had hidden risks such as landslides and road collapses.

I think many people treat these warnings as if they were just passing by in their ears—that’s all down to a kind of luck-based mentality. They believe it won’t happen to them so “conveniently,” focusing instead on things like viewing snowy scenery, soaking in hot springs, and shopping, without considering potential risks at all. Before going out, they only pay attention to sightseeing guides and shopping lists, but overlook life-saving information like weather alerts and purchasing insurance. Then, when their phone runs out of battery, they run short on cash, and they can’t communicate, everything suddenly comes to the surface.

At the end of the day, safety is the prerequisite for travel. The safety advisories issued by the government are conclusions drawn from on-the-ground research and case analysis—each one points to real, concrete risks. Even Japan, which is known as a disaster-prepared country, could still be a bit hard-pressed to cope with this kind of storm; ordinary tourists have even less reason to expect otherwise. We can’t put ourselves in danger on impulse. After all, only by going out safely can we return happily.