As Japan expands its role as a global gas trader, a new analysis raises questions about whether Asia is importing energy security—or future climate liabilities. Japan US LNG trade generated lifecycle emissions equal to about 17 coal plants in a year, raising concerns about Asia’s growing dependence on imported gas.

The liquefied natural gas (LNG) cargoes that Japan resold across Asia over the past five years generated greenhouse gas emissions equivalent to running about 17 coal-fired power plants for a year, according to a new analysis by Zero Carbon Analytics.

The finding comes at a time when several Asian economies are turning to LNG as a bridge fuel in their energy transition strategies, while governments simultaneously pledge to cut emissions and expand renewable energy.

According to the analysis, Japan resold 16.5 billion kilograms of US-produced LNG to nine Asian countries between 2020 and 2025. Across the fuel’s lifecycle—from extraction and liquefaction in the United States to shipping, regasification and combustion in Asia—those sales generated an estimated 63.5 billion kilograms of carbon dioxide emissions.

The report highlights a little-discussed aspect of Asia’s gas trade: Japan is increasingly acting as a middleman in the global LNG market.

Japan’s US LNG Trade–Japan Now Resells More US LNG Than It Uses

Japan remains one of the world’s largest LNG importers, but its domestic demand for gas has been declining.

The analysis found that between 2021 and 2025, Japan sold 77 percent more US LNG to other countries than it imported for its own domestic consumption.

In 2024, Japan ranked as the world’s second-largest LNG trader. While Europe remained the largest destination for Japanese LNG resales, nearly one-third of those transactions were directed to Asian markets, including South Korea, China, India, Taiwan, Thailand, Singapore, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Malaysia.

Three of Japan’s top ten LNG resale destinations were Asian economies: South Korea, China and India.

The numbers reflect a broader shift in regional energy markets. Countries seeking alternatives to coal have increasingly turned to LNG, often presenting gas as a cleaner transition fuel. Yet critics argue that this framing overlooks emissions generated throughout the fuel supply chain.

The Methane Problem

Natural gas is composed primarily of methane, a greenhouse gas that has far greater warming potential than carbon dioxide in the short term.

According to the International Energy Agency’s 2026 Global Methane Tracker, methane emissions from fossil fuel operations remain near record levels globally.

The Zero Carbon Analytics analysis estimates that roughly 30 percent of total LNG lifecycle emissions arise from methane released during extraction, processing and transportation.

Methane can trap around 80 times more heat than carbon dioxide during the first two decades after it enters the atmosphere, making leakage a critical concern for climate scientists.

The report’s emissions calculations include every stage of the LNG supply chain rather than focusing solely on combustion emissions at power plants.

Energy Security or Fossil Fuel Lock-In?

The findings arrive amid renewed concerns over energy security following instability in the Middle East and uncertainty surrounding global gas supplies.

Several Asian economies, including Thailand, Vietnam and the Philippines, have expanded LNG imports in recent years to diversify their energy systems. However, the same dependence has exposed them to volatile international fuel prices.

Yu Sun Chin, Asia Regional Researcher at Zero Carbon Analytics, said the growing trade has implications beyond emissions.

“Japan’s growing role as an LNG trader has significant implications for Asia, which is absorbing close to a third of Japan’s excess supplies. Our calculations of the full lifecycle emissions of these LNG resales highlight the risk they pose to a region already vulnerable to extreme weather and other climate impacts. Rather than increasing reliance on gas as a ‘transition fuel’, transitioning to renewables offers Asia a clearer route to a clean and secure energy future.”

The concern is not merely about current emissions. Energy analysts warn that investments in LNG terminals, pipelines and related infrastructure could lock countries into fossil fuel consumption for decades.

Sam Reynolds, LNG and Gas Research Lead for Asia at the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis (IEEFA), noted that Japanese companies are increasingly looking abroad as domestic demand declines.

“As Japan’s own LNG demand continues to decline, Japanese companies are becoming increasingly active traders of the fuel to other countries. At the same time, public and private financiers in Japan are investing in downstream infrastructure to stimulate demand and secure long-term customers.”

He added that such investments could leave emerging economies dependent on “a volatile, expensive fuel source for decades” while delaying renewable energy deployment.

Asia’s Climate Challenge

Asia is simultaneously one of the world’s fastest-growing energy markets and one of the regions most vulnerable to climate impacts.

From deadly heatwaves in South Asia to flooding in China and stronger tropical cyclones across Southeast Asia, the region is already experiencing the consequences of rising temperatures.

Climate scientists estimate that global emissions must nearly halve within this decade to keep the Paris Agreement’s 1.5°C goal within reach.

Against that backdrop, environmental groups argue that expanding LNG infrastructure risks undermining climate commitments.

Shruti Shukla, Senior Advocate for International Energy at the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), said the region faces a strategic choice.

“Japan has long positioned itself as a regional energy and economic leader in Asia. That leadership should help accelerate a resilient clean energy transition across the region, not deepen dependence on another generation of imported fossil fuels.”

She warned that growing LNG imports expose countries to methane emissions, volatile fuel markets and costly infrastructure that could become obsolete as renewable technologies become cheaper.

The Economic Risks

The debate extends beyond climate concerns.

Researchers increasingly point to the possibility that LNG infrastructure built today may become stranded assets before the end of its expected lifespan.

Nawaphat Junkrajang, senior researcher at Climate Finance Network Thailand, cited research suggesting that nearly half of Thailand’s operating and proposed LNG terminal capacity could become economically unviable under the country’s climate commitments.

“Each additional resale cargo is not energy security. It is one more step into a lock-in the transition will eventually have to unwind,” he said.

Bangladesh faces similar concerns.

Dr Khondaker Golam Moazzem, Research Director at the Centre for Policy Dialogue, said new energy agreements and infrastructure investments could deepen dependence on imported LNG while narrowing opportunities for renewable energy investment.

A Growing Regional Debate

The analysis arrives as governments across Asia reassess their energy pathways.

Supporters of LNG argue that gas provides reliable electricity generation and can complement intermittent renewable sources. Critics counter that falling costs of solar, wind and battery storage are weakening the economic rationale for large-scale LNG expansion.

What is clear from the data is that Japan’s role in regional gas markets is evolving rapidly. The country is no longer simply a major LNG consumer; it has become a significant intermediary connecting US gas producers with Asian buyers.

As Asia balances energy security, affordability and climate goals, that role is likely to attract increasing scrutiny.

For policymakers, the question may no longer be whether LNG emits less carbon than coal at the point of combustion. Instead, it is whether a region racing to build a low-carbon future can afford to lock itself into another generation of fossil fuel infrastructure.

First the lightning, then the thunder—that is what we believe we witness. Yet physics tells us the opposite is true. Thunder always comes first; its sound simply arrives later. Bullying follows a similar pattern. What eventually becomes visible conflict often begins quietly, long before anyone calls it by its name.

A joke goes unchecked. A complaint is dismissed as overreaction. A child realises that speaking up changes nothing. In those moments, bullying has already taken root. By the time it reaches headlines or disciplinary hearings, the behaviour has often been normalised within the social fabric of a classroom.

Silence is rarely accidental. It is sustained—by peers who fear becoming the next target, by adults who underestimate the harm, and sometimes by institutions that prioritise reputation over accountability.

Character Over Competence: A Global Shift

Recently, universities in South Korea made international headlines for rejecting applicants with documented histories of school bullying. In several cases, admissions decisions reportedly changed after evidence of past bullying emerged. The message was clear: academic excellence alone is no longer enough if it is accompanied by a record of harming others.

The aftermath revealed something deeper. Some rejected applicants reportedly appeared with parents and legal representatives to challenge the decisions. The controversy exposed a troubling reality: bullying is rarely sustained by students alone.

Parents, often understandably protective of their children, may sometimes pressure schools to minimise incidents. Educators, navigating institutional hierarchies, may feel compelled to preserve the school’s image. Gradually, a culture of quiet accommodation replaces accountability.

The question that emerges is uncomfortable but necessary: who truly sustains bullying—students, families, educators, or the systems that reward silence?

When Schools Stop Feeling Safe

Schools are meant to be environments of learning, curiosity, and belonging. Yet for many students, they become spaces marked by anxiety, humiliation, and exclusion.

Bullying is not a harmless rite of passage or a phase children inevitably outgrow. Decades of psychological research show that repeated harassment—whether verbal, physical, or social—can leave long-term scars on mental health, self-esteem, and academic engagement.

Bullying is typically defined as repeated aggressive behaviour involving an imbalance of power. One individual or group deliberately harms another through intimidation, exclusion, ridicule, or physical aggression. With the rise of digital communication, cyberbullying has intensified the problem, extending harassment beyond school walls and leaving victims feeling trapped even in their own homes.

Understanding bullying therefore requires looking beyond individual behaviour. It requires examining the emotional and social ecosystems that allow harm to persist.

The Psychology Behind Bullying Behaviour

Public narratives often portray bullies as inherently cruel individuals. Psychological research paints a more complex picture.

Some children use aggression as a strategy to gain social status or dominance within peer groups. When classmates laugh, remain silent, or join the behaviour, the bully receives reinforcement. Power becomes socially rewarding.

In other cases, bullying behaviour reflects patterns observed at home. Children raised in environments shaped by conflict, neglect, or harsh discipline may internalise aggression as a way to assert control or cope with insecurity.

Emotional regulation also plays a crucial role. Adolescents struggling with anger, anxiety, or feelings of invisibility may externalise these emotions through hostility towards others. In such situations, bullying can become a maladaptive coping strategy—an attempt to manage unresolved emotional distress.

These dynamics are not merely theoretical. They emerge clearly in lived experience.

SP, now pursuing a master’s degree in psychology, remembers being bullied after transferring schools when her family returned from Dubai. Her accent, mannerisms, and background made her stand out. Classmates mocked the differences that marked her identity.

The bullying subsided only when peers learned she was coping with her parents’ marital separation. The reaction left a lasting impression.

“They seemed comforted knowing I wasn’t happier than them,” she recalls.

For SP, the experience revealed something unsettling: bullying sometimes emerges from insecurity rather than confidence. For some adolescents, targeting others becomes a way to reduce feelings of inadequacy or reclaim social control. Students may even join bullying behaviour simply to avoid becoming targets themselves.

When Authority Becomes Harmful

Bullying does not always originate among peers. At times, it emerges from authority itself.

NSK, another psychology postgraduate student, describes her school years as marked not by encouragement but by humiliation. A mathematics teacher repeatedly mocked her inability to solve problems and singled her out in class. On one occasion, she was forced to kneel for hours as punishment.

When she attempted to report the treatment, she was discouraged from escalating the complaint. Teachers, she was told, always act in students’ best interests.

The consequences followed her home. While her mother recognised the emotional harm, her father prioritised academic performance, reinforcing the belief that endurance mattered more than dignity.

Experiences like these illustrate how bullying can become institutionalised when authority figures remain shielded from accountability.

The Cost of Silence

Perhaps the most damaging element of bullying is not the aggression itself but the silence surrounding it.

Many victims choose not to report their experiences out of fear—fear of retaliation, disbelief, or social isolation. Schools may dismiss incidents as harmless teasing or avoid acknowledging them altogether to protect their public image.

The result is a profound sense of loneliness. Students often leave school having learned not confidence or resilience, but survival—how to endure humiliation without expecting intervention.

Social-cognitive research adds another dimension. Some bullies display distorted beliefs about dominance or reduced sensitivity to others’ distress. Others are socially adept, skilfully manipulating peer dynamics to maintain influence. In both cases, silence allows the behaviour to continue unchecked.

Empathy as Intervention

Breaking the cycle of bullying requires more than punishment.

Rashimi Sreedhar, a former kindergarten head, recalls working with a child whose aggressive behaviour emerged after he was placed in a hostel at a very young age. The abrupt separation created intense loneliness and emotional dysregulation that later surfaced as hostility toward classmates.

Rather than responding with strict discipline, RS chose an empathy-centred approach.

When the child hurt others, she calmly expressed disappointment and sadness, even shedding tears. The reaction unsettled him. Later that day, he returned quietly to apologise.

“Instead of punishing him, I showed him how his actions affected someone he cared about,” she explains. “That emotional connection activated responsibility rather than fear.”

The behavioural change, she notes, proved lasting.

Moving Beyond Punishment

Effective responses to bullying must be layered and relational. Punitive measures alone—such as suspensions or public reprimands—rarely address the emotional dynamics underlying aggressive behaviour.

Victims need safe reporting systems, psychological support, and access to counselling. While building resilience is important, responsibility must never be placed solely on those who suffer harm.

Students who engage in bullying behaviour also require intervention—particularly in emotional regulation, empathy development, and conflict resolution. Research consistently shows that programmes emphasising social-emotional learning reduce bullying far more effectively than punishment alone.

Shared Responsibility: Parents, Schools, Systems

Addressing bullying ultimately requires shared responsibility.

Parents play a crucial role in recognising behavioural changes and maintaining open communication with educators. Early warning signs—withdrawal, anxiety, sudden academic decline—should never be dismissed as ordinary adolescence.

Schools, meanwhile, must cultivate cultures of transparency and accountability. Anti-bullying policies cannot remain symbolic documents. They must be actively implemented, applied equally to students, teachers, and administrators.

Peer-led initiatives, restorative practices, and mental health education can empower students to challenge harmful norms rather than silently absorb them.

Breaking Silence, Building Safety

Bullying is rarely the result of individual cruelty alone. It emerges from silence—silence among classmates, silence within institutions, and silence within systems that prioritise comfort over accountability.

Breaking that silence requires courage from everyone involved: educators willing to intervene, parents willing to listen, and institutions willing to confront uncomfortable truths.

When schools choose transparency over protectionism and care over convenience, they can begin to fulfil their most fundamental promise: to be places where children feel safe enough to learn, grow, and belong.

Note: Names of students quoted in this article have been changed to protect their identity and privacy, given the sensitive nature of their experiences.

Counting beads, tracing letters made of sandpaper, children identifying sounds and phonetics—the classroom hums with quiet concentration as children move freely between activities. The teacher watches from a distance, intervening only when invited. At first glance, the scene may appear unstructured. Yet beneath this autonomy lies a carefully constructed philosophy—the Montessori method—developed over a century ago by an Italian physician who transformed the way the world understands childhood and learning.

Breaking Barriers in a Man’s World

Born on 31 August 1870 to Alessandro Montessori, an accountant in the Italian civil service, and Renilde Stoppani, a well-educated woman with a passion for reading, Maria Montessori emerged as a pioneer who challenged rigid social norms and reshaped the meaning of education.

As her education progressed, Montessori consistently defied expectations placed on women of her era. She initially pursued engineering—an uncommon choice for women in technical schools at the time. Though her parents encouraged her to become a teacher, Montessori aspired to study medicine. Despite opposition from her father and an unsuccessful interview with a university professor, she remained resolute, famously declaring, “I know I shall become a doctor.”

She enrolled at the University of Rome, earning a diploma in physics, mathematics, and natural sciences—prerequisites for medical studies. Facing open prejudice from male peers, Montessori persisted with remarkable determination. In 1896, she became one of Italy’s first female physicians. That same year, during the International Congress for Women, she presented a thesis advocating social reform, including equal pay for women.

Montessori later worked as a surgical assistant at Rome’s Santo Spirito Hospital, treating the urban poor, especially children. Her clinical work soon extended to the University of Rome’s psychiatric clinic, where she encountered children with intellectual disabilities who had been written off by society. What struck her most was not their limitations, but their deprivation—of movement, sensory experience, and meaningful activity.

Her observations led her to study the work of nineteenth-century French educators Jean-Marc Itard and Édouard Séguin, whose methods emphasised sensory training and individualised learning. Montessori translated their writings into Italian and adapted their ideas through systematic observation, laying the foundation for her own approach.

Disturbed by how neglect and institutional failure often pushed children with developmental challenges towards delinquency, Montessori addressed the National Pedagogical Congress, calling for medical-pedagogical institutes and specialised teacher training. Education, she argued, was not merely instruction but social reform.

A decisive turning point came with her appointment as co-director of the Orthophrenic School in Rome. There, Montessori refined learning materials, observed children meticulously, and documented their progress with scientific rigour. During this period, she gave birth to her son, Mario, who would later become her closest collaborator and carry her work forward globally.

The Birth of the Montessori Classroom

In 1907, amid Rome’s rapid urban expansion, Montessori was invited to work with children living in newly built social housing. She opened the first Casa dei Bambini (Children’s House) in the San Lorenzo district. What unfolded surprised even her. When given freedom within a carefully prepared environment, children chose purposeful work, repeated activities with concentration, and displayed discipline without external rewards or punishments.

“I did not invent a method of education,” Montessori later wrote. “I simply gave some little children a chance to live.”

Her philosophy—centred on self-directed learning, sensory engagement, and respect for each child’s pace—challenged the foundations of conventional schooling. Critics questioned the absence of uniform benchmarks, yet the results were difficult to ignore. Within a few years, additional Casa dei Bambini opened across Italy, and educators from around the world travelled to observe her work.

Her approach—rooted in hands-on learning, sensory engagement, and self-direction—challenged rigid, exam-driven systems that dominated education then and continue in many parts of the world today.

A Global Movement Takes Shape

Montessori’s 1909 lectures were compiled into The Montessori Method, published in English in 1912 and translated into more than twenty languages. The movement expanded rapidly through teacher-training programmes, schools, and Montessori societies across Europe, the Americas, and Asia. Her plans for a permanent research centre, however, were disrupted by the rise of fascism in Europe. Her book The Montessori Method became a global reference point, and schools began emerging across continents.

Today, the scale of her influence is striking. According to BBC Future, around 60,000 schools worldwide use the Montessori method in some form. More conservative academic research, including a 2022 global census, estimates approximately 15,763 Montessori schools based on verified data.

The difference reflects Montessori’s dual identity—as both a formal system and a widely adopted philosophy. The United States leads with roughly 5,000 programmes, while countries such as China, Germany, Canada, Thailand and Tanzania also host large Montessori networks. India, too, has a growing presence, with around 400–420 listed schools.

Why Montessori Still Matters Today

For many educators, Montessori is not just a method—it is a response to the limitations of modern schooling.

Arun G. Menon, founder of Kerala-based Dolphinz Preschool, who transitioned from a career at Tata Consultancy Services, says his shift to education was driven by a growing concern. In the corporate world, he observed that while systems were becoming faster and more technologically advanced, many graduates struggled to meet real-world expectations.

“The gap is not just at the higher education level—it begins at the foundation,” he notes, explaining why he chose to focus on early childhood learning.

At his school, Montessori principles are blended with the theory of multiple intelligences. The emphasis is on independence, creativity, and experiential learning—skills he believes are essential in an era shaped by rapid technological change and what many describe as the Fifth Industrial Revolution.

Menon argues that conventional teaching methods are increasingly inadequate. “Children need space to explore, build confidence, and think independently—not just rely on tools like Google or AI,” he says. The goal is to cultivate problem-solving ability, emotional intelligence, teamwork, and decision-making—skills that define human value in today’s world.

Inside the Montessori Classroom

In practice, Montessori classrooms often look very different from conventional ones.

Sapna Raj, a Montessori teacher from CGKG Porbandar, Gujarat, describes a learning environment where children sit on the floor, working with wooden materials and hands-on tools rather than textbooks. “The focus is on activity-based learning and motor skill development before formal writing begins,” she explains.

Notebooks come later—typically only in the early primary years—allowing children to first build coordination, understanding, and confidence through experience.

This approach, she says, makes learning both joyful and lasting. “Children understand what they learn. They don’t just memorise and forget.”

Critiques and Debates

Despite its global influence, the Montessori method has faced criticism from educators and researchers. Some argue that its emphasis on self-directed learning may not suit all children, particularly those who require more structured guidance or thrive in competitive environments. Others question the lack of standardised assessment, raising concerns about how learning outcomes are measured and compared. Critics have also pointed to the high cost of many Montessori schools, which can limit accessibility and make the model less inclusive. In some cases, loosely affiliated schools adopt the Montessori label without adhering to its core principles, leading to inconsistencies in quality. At the same time, proponents argue that when implemented faithfully, Montessori education produces strong outcomes in independence, creativity and problem-solving—qualities increasingly valued in a rapidly changing world.

A Legacy Beyond Classrooms

Montessori’s journey also brought her to India in the late 1930s, where she conducted training programmes and engaged deeply with Indian philosophical thought. Influenced by thinkers such as Rabindranath Tagore, she developed the idea of Cosmic Education—a vision that connects learning with peace, ecology, and universal responsibility.

Following her death in 1952, her son Mario Montessori carried forward her work, ensuring its continuity.

Today, Montessori classrooms across the world—from urban India to Europe and Africa—continue to reflect a simple yet radical belief: that education, when rooted in respect for the child, can shape not just individuals, but the future of society itself.