The number 4 in Japan : The cursed number (Shi)

Shi: when a number sounds like death

To understand Japanese tetraphobia, one must first understand how the Japanese language works and the particular place homophonies occupy within it. Japanese is a language rich in homophones, words that are pronounced identically or very similarly but are written differently and carry radically different meanings. This linguistic characteristic is the source of many superstitions, with the number 4 being by far the most famous and widespread.

The number 4 is pronounced shi (四) in Sino-Japanese, the most common reading in formal contexts. However, shi (死) also means "death" in Japanese. These two words, perfectly homophonic, are written with entirely different characters, but their identical pronunciation is enough to create in the Japanese mind an instinctive and powerful association between the number four and the concept of death.

A homophony, two readings: the complexity of Japanese

It is important to clarify that Japanese actually has two systems for reading numbers: Sino-Japanese readings, inherited from Chinese, and native Japanese readings. Thus, the number 4 can be pronounced shi in Sino-Japanese reading, but also yon in native Japanese reading, the latter carrying no negative connotation. This duality explains why the Japanese systematically use yon rather than shi in contexts where the deathly connotation would be particularly unwelcome, for example when counting people, announcing a floor, or reading a hospital room number. Substituting yon for shi is a simple and effective way to symbolically neutralize the number while continuing to use it.

The 9, the cursed companion of 4

Japanese tetraphobia is often accompanied by a similar distrust of the number 9, whose Sino-Japanese reading ku (九) is homophonic with ku (苦), meaning "suffering" or "pain." This double numerical curse explains why the combinations of 4 and 9 are particularly avoided in Japanese culture. The number 49, for example, which would be read as shi-ku, combines both negative homophonies and is considered particularly harmful. Conversely, numbers that systematically avoid 4 and 9 are perceived as more favorable, a logic that influences many practical decisions in Japanese daily and professional life.

Tetraphobia in Japanese daily life

The distrust of the number 4 is not a folk superstition confined to the elderly or rural areas. It is present in entire sectors of contemporary Japanese society, from the most traditional to the most modern, with a coherence that testifies to its deep cultural inscription.

Understanding the real extent of tetraphobia in Japan means understanding that it is not a simple abstract aversion to a number. It is an active, concrete, and sometimes costly preference for numerical alternatives, manifesting in areas as varied as real estate, medicine, sports, or the automotive industry.

Hotels, hospitals, and buildings: the nonexistent 4th floor

The most visible example of tetraphobia in Japan is undoubtedly the absence of the 4th floor in many buildings, including hotels, hospitals, and residential buildings. Similar to the 13th floor omitted in some Western buildings, the Japanese 4th floor is sometimes simply removed from the numbering, with the elevator going directly from 3 to 5. In hospitals in particular, where the association between the number 4 and death would be particularly unwelcome, this practice is extremely common. Rooms numbered 4, 14, 24, or 44 are systematically avoided or renumbered, and some medical facilities also avoid the number 9 for the same reasons.

Japanese sports and numerical superstition

In the world of professional Japanese sports, tetraphobia manifests particularly visibly in the assignment of jersey numbers. Many Japanese athletes categorically refuse the number 4, and some teams avoid assigning it to their players to prevent unnecessary friction. In Japanese baseball, the king of sports, the number 4 is sometimes avoided just like certain numbers in the West. Conversely, numbers that sound like positive words in Japanese, such as 8, whose reading hachi is associated with expansion and prosperity, are particularly sought after.

The automotive industry and license plates

Tetraphobia even influences the Japanese automotive industry. Some manufacturers deliberately avoid model series that include the number 4 in their name or numbering, or offer alternatives for markets where this superstition is prevalent. Vehicle buyers may sometimes request to avoid certain combinations on their license plates, and numbers deemed favorable can sometimes be negotiated at high prices. This practice is not anecdotal: it reveals how much numerical symbolism can influence concrete economic decisions in Japanese culture.

Origins, history, and spread of tetraphobia

The fear of the number 4 in Japan did not appear spontaneously. It has a precise history and identifiable vectors of transmission, which help to understand how a linguistic homophony could transform into a cultural superstition of such magnitude.

Tetraphobia is shared by several East Asian cultures, including China and Korea, where the number 4 also carries negative connotations related to its pronunciation. In Japan, it is primarily through the introduction of Buddhism and Sino-Japanese reading systems, starting in the 6th century, that the homophony between shi (four) and shi (death) became established in the collective consciousness.

Buddhism and the centrality of death in Japanese thought

The introduction of Buddhism in Japan profoundly transformed the relationship of Japanese society to death. Buddhist thought places impermanence and death at the heart of its philosophy, and this centralization of the concept of death in Japanese spiritual life has made the homophony between shi (four) and shi (death) all the more striking. In a culture where death is omnipresent in daily religious practice, a phonetic coincidence with its name can only resonate particularly strongly.

Propagation through social and family practices

Tetraphobia is transmitted in Japan primarily through social and family practices, much more than through explicit teaching. Children learn very early, often without direct explanation, to avoid the number 4 in certain contexts, to prefer yon to shi, and not to give gifts in sets of four. This implicit transmission, integrated into daily behaviors and social codes, explains the remarkable persistence of this superstition in an otherwise highly modernized and rationalized society. Japanese tetraphobia is the perfect example of a belief that survives not because people consciously believe in it, but because they practice it out of social habit and respect for cultural conventions.

The number 4 in Japanese arts, literature, and popular culture

Paradoxically, this cultural distrust of the number 4 has not prevented it from occupying a significant place in Japanese arts and popular culture. The fascination with what frightens is universal, and Japan is no exception to this rule.

The 4 in Japanese horror literature and cinema

Japanese horror culture, globally recognized for its sophistication and effectiveness, regularly exploits the symbolism of the number 4. In many Japanese horror novels, films, and series, the number 4 appears as a portent or alarm signal, leveraging the pre-existing cultural resonance of the homophony shi to create an atmosphere of unease for the Japanese viewer. This narrative use of the cursed number is all the more effective as it relies on a real and shared fear among the entire audience.

Tetraphobia in mangas and animes

In the world of mangas and animes, the number 4 is often used deliberately symbolically to signal the death, danger, or curse of a character or situation. Japanese screenwriters skillfully exploit their audience's implicit knowledge of tetraphobia to create effects of tension and foreboding without having to make them explicit. A character associated with the number 4, whose apartment is on the 4th floor or whose player number is 4, will be instinctively perceived as threatened by a Japanese reader, without any explanation being necessary.

Tetraphobia and rationality: a superstition alive in the 21st century

One of the most fascinating questions posed by Japanese tetraphobia is its persistence in an ultra-modern society. Japan is one of the most technologically advanced and rational nations in the world. How can a superstition based on a simple linguistic homophony survive so vigorously there?

The answer largely lies in the distinction between belief and social practice. Most contemporary Japanese who avoid the number 4 do not literally believe that this number will cause their death. They do so out of respect for social conventions, consideration for older or more superstitious people around them, or simply because these behaviors have become cultural automatism. A hotelier who removes the 4th floor from his building does not necessarily do so out of personal conviction; he does it because his clients would expect this gesture and would be uncomfortable not seeing it done.

When superstition becomes an economic argument

This social dimension of tetraphobia has very concrete and measurable economic consequences. In Japanese real estate, apartments and houses with the number 4 in their address or numbering consistently sell for less than comparable properties without this number. Studies have shown that the discount can reach several percent of the sale price, a sum that is far from negligible in the Japanese real estate market. This economic reality even forces the most rational developers and real estate agents to take tetraphobia into account in their marketing strategies.

Tetraphobia beyond Japan: a shared fear in Asia

It is important to note that tetraphobia is not an exclusively Japanese specificity. It is shared, in various forms, by many East Asian cultures, including China, Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, and Chinese diaspora communities worldwide. This transnational dimension of the fear of the number 4 reflects the profound and lasting influence of Sino-Japanese linguistic and cultural systems over a vast region of the world. It also reminds us that the most tenacious superstitions are rarely isolated phenomena: they are embedded in networks of shared meaning that transcend national borders.

FAQ - Your questions about the number 4 in Japan

Why is the number 4 cursed in Japan?

Because its Sino-Japanese pronunciation shi is homophonic with shi (死), the Japanese word meaning "death." This phonetic coincidence has given rise to a superstition called tetraphobia, deeply rooted in Japanese culture and which still influences many aspects of daily and professional life today.

How do the Japanese avoid the number 4?

By using the native Japanese reading yon instead of shi in sensitive contexts, by omitting the 4th floors of certain buildings, by avoiding room numbers containing the number 4 in hospitals and hotels, and by refusing to give gifts in sets of four units.

Do all Japanese really believe that 4 brings bad luck?

Not necessarily in the literal sense. Many contemporary Japanese respect the conventions related to tetraphobia more out of social habit and respect for cultural codes than from deep personal conviction. This does not prevent these behaviors from having very concrete consequences in economic and social life.

Are there other poorly perceived numbers in Japan?

Yes, the number 9 is also avoided in certain contexts, as its Sino-Japanese reading ku is homophonic with ku (苦), meaning "suffering." The combination of 4 and 9 is considered particularly harmful.

Does tetraphobia exist outside of Japan?

Yes, it is shared by many East Asian cultures, including China, Korea, and Taiwan, where the number 4 carries similar negative connotations related to its homophony with the word "death" in Sino-Asian languages.

The Japanese number 4 is a lesson in humility for those who think that modernity erases ancestral beliefs. In one of the most technologically advanced societies in the world, a simple linguistic homophony continues to make entire floors of buildings disappear, to lower real estate prices, and to make professional athletes hesitate. Proof that words, and the sounds they share, have a power that reason alone can never quite dissolve.