Weather apps, a media storm, now what? 

It started, as these things often do, with a formal letter and a very British frustration. Not with the weather itself (we’ve made our peace with that) but with how it’s represented. The tiny icons. The cheerful little raincloud that quietly wipes out an entire day’s visitor economy with the flick of a pixel. Rob from Chester Zoo and I wrote to the Met Office because, frankly, it felt like someone had to. Not to pick a fight, but to point out something hiding in plain sight, when you reduce a complex, shifting day of weather into a single, gloomy symbol, you’re not just forecasting conditions, you’re shaping behaviour. What’s happened since has been… disproportionate. In the best possible way. 

Within days, what we’d assumed was a niche industry gripe turned into something much bigger. Nearly 110 organisations joined the campaign. And not just the usual suspects. zoos, heritage sites, theme parks, yes. But we also had the support from farm shops, cricket clubs, country pubs, and fish and chip shops. The entire wonderfully messy ecosystem of the outdoor visitor economy raised its hand and said: “Yes, this affects us too.” Because of course it does. Weather isn’t just a backdrop to our industry. It’s a protagonist. And increasingly, the version of weather people see isn’t the one outside their window, it’s the one on their phone at 8:12am. And that version? It’s often… pessimistic to say the least.

Penny Hamilton, Head of Marketing for ZSL’s London and Whipsnade Zoos, put it succinctly, “People often check their weather before planning a day out, so the icons they see on weather apps can have a real influence on their decision. For outdoor attractions like Whipsnade Zoo and London Zoo, it’s important those symbols give an accurate picture of the day ahead. Having the right icon to summarise the day’s weather could really change how people feel about getting outside.” There’s something quietly profound in that. How people feel about getting outside. Not whether it will rain. Not the millimetres of precipitation between 2–3pm. But the emotional nudge. The subconscious “maybe not today.”

Because at the core of this issue is something we in the sector have always known, most “rainy days” aren’t rainy days. They’re mixed days. Intermittent days. Days with a passing shower and six hours of perfectly usable, occasionally glorious, weather. But a single icon doesn’t do nuance. And nuance, it turns out, is worth millions.

Chris Mitchell, CEO of Welsh Mountain Zoo, captured the double bind perfectly, “We are very often affected by the weather, but also people's perception of the weather!” That’s the campaign in a sentence. Not weather. Perception of weather. We’ve built an entire decision-making layer between reality and behaviour. And it’s powered by simplification, necessary simplification, perhaps, but simplification with consequences.

If the forecast icon says rain, the day is written off. School holiday plans quietly shelved. Trips postponed. Tickets not booked. Even if, by lunchtime, the sun is out and the car park is half empty.

There’s a temptation to frame this purely in commercial terms. Lost revenue. Missed peak days. Underperformance against forecast. All true. But it’s also about something broader. Lawrence Bates, CEO of the Wildheart Animal Sanctuary, put it plainly, “As an outdoor attraction, we feel the impact of weather apps using misleading rain icons to 'write off' whole days or weeks of school holidays and other busy periods. We’re proud to join the call in raising awareness of how this is challenging visitor attractions, including charities such as ours, all over the country.” This isn’t just about ticket sales. It’s about conservation funding. Community spaces. Mental wellbeing. The simple, underrated act of people choosing to go outside. A grey cloud icon shouldn’t have that much power. But right now, it does.

The tipping point wasn’t the partner count. It wasn’t even the media coverage (though seeing the story climb to second on the BBC homepage was… surreal). It was the response. Because people didn’t just agree. They recognised it. Operators from across the country saying, in various forms: “We thought it was just us.” It wasn’t. It was systemic. Quietly, consistently shaping demand across the entire outdoor economy. And suddenly, this wasn’t a complaint. It was a conversation. And here’s something I’m genuinely proud of. There were organisations that agreed with us privately, wholeheartedly, but couldn’t step forward. Tied, understandably, to government relationships or funding structures. Others worried that calling out how weather is presented by major platforms, the BBC, Apple, and others, might risk the very media relationships they rely on for visibility. Which is precisely why someone had to say it out loud. I’m proud that, backed by the team at Navigate, we did. Not because we’re braver than anyone else, but because we were in a position where we could. And if you’re in that position and you don’t use it, what’s the point?

More importantly, it didn’t stop with us. What’s been most encouraging is how quickly the spotlight widened. Partners who signed the letter didn’t just add their names, they found their voices in the national conversation too. Edinburgh Zoo, Trentham Monkey Forest, Dudley Zoo, Blackpool Pleasure Beach, William’s Den, Clacton Pier and many more all picked up coverage, telling their version of the same story. And that’s when you know something has shifted. Not when one voice gets heard, but when lots of voices realise they can be.

To their credit, they didn’t ignore it. They got in touch. Properly. Constructively. And crucially they agreed to a roundtable before the summer holidays. That matters. Because this was never about blaming the Met Office. Weather forecasting is phenomenally complex. Communicating it simply is even harder. But somewhere in that translation, from data to icon, something important has been lost. And now, finally, we have a chance to talk about it. At scale, giving our industry a voice.

There’s a version of this story where it quietly fades away. A nice bit of coverage. A flurry of LinkedIn posts. Business as usual. But it doesn’t feel like that version. It feels like a hinge moment. A slightly odd, very British, unexpectedly powerful moment where a sector collectively said: “Hang on. This isn’t quite right.” And instead of shrugging, it did something about it. The next step is simple, but important: evidence. Stories. Data. Real-world impact. Because the more clearly we can show the gap between forecasted perception and actual experience, the harder it becomes to ignore. In the coming weeks we’ll be contacting all who’ve added their voice to our cause for insights, data and a full picture of impact. If you’d like to be involved, please do get in touch. 

This was never really just about weather. It’s about how small design decisions, a symbol, an icon, a simplified message, ripple out into real-world behaviour at scale.

It’s about the quiet power of default assumptions. And it’s about an industry that, for once, didn’t just adapt around the problem, but decided to challenge it.

If you strip it right back, this is what we’re asking. Not for better weather, just a better story about the weather we already have. And if we get that right, we might not just change a few icons, we might change how people feel about going outside altogether. And it’s not an impossible problem. There are some good examples of how weather is presented elsewhere in the world. Take the YR Norwegian model, for example, which breaks the day into four six‑hour blocks, meaning rain at 5am isn’t shown as if it’s raining all day. This is a practical answer to the problem that could also work for tourist attractions and visitors alike.

A huge thank you to all who’ve added your support and got in touch. And the biggest of thank yous to Chester Zoo’s fantastic team. Rob, Will, Gareth and more, who’ve used their voice to drive this forward. Good luck to the season ahead, I hope the weather app odds are in your favour.