Issue:
December 2024 | Letter from Hokkaido
The year in Hokkaido was dominated by ursine menace and creaking railways
At the end of every year, monks at Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto announce the choice for kanji character of the year, an annual contest it runs in collaboration with the Japanese Kanji Aptitude Testing Foundation. It is meant to symbolize, in a single word, what Japan and the world have experienced during the previous 12 months.
For Hokkaido, my nomination for the one word, in English, that best sums up 2024 is “bear” - both the noun and the verb.
In terms of the furry animals, late 2024 saw the main association of licensed hunters in Hokkaido announce it would advise its membership that it was acceptable to turn down requests by local governments to exterminate bears, especially if the hunters felt there was insufficient communication from local government bureaucrats or local police.
The directive partially stems from a 2018 incident in which a Hokkaido hunter discharged his firearm near a building in violation of Japanese law and found himself in a messy court battle in which his license was revoked. The case is still dragging on. But the association's members, worried that their own licenses could get pulled if they accidentally fired their guns too close to a building, are understandably more reluctant to answer calls from local officials to track and kill bears spotted in local neighborhoods.
The announcement came as local discussions picked up over whether Hokkaido might push to amend laws to make it easier to trap and kill bears spotted near human habitats. But it also reminded everyone that the number of brown bears has been increasing in recent years, while the number of hunters is falling.
The verb "to bear" could also be applied to Hokkaido’s year in two ways that might at first seem separate but which are, in fact, linked.
The first is the Rapidus semiconductor plant and the debate inside the prefecture over who will bear the fruits if it succeeds, and who will bear the costs if it fails.
Throughout the year, Rapidus-related boosters (financial, IT consultants) passed through Hokkaido on official visits while a host of fortune-seekers from Tokyo came to Sapporo and Chitose to school the locals in why Rapidus was the deus ex machina that would turbocharge Hokkaido’s economic redevelopment.
I sat through a number of jargon-filled PowerPoint presentations this year on the miracle of Rapidus, given by middle-aged male consultants with soothing voices and sterling educational and professional resumes. Of course, nary a discouraging word was to be heard, and the summary of the lessons was that Rapidus would, indeed, bear fruit once it goes into full operation by 2027.
As to who would benefit was a question that somehow didn’t make it into the presentations, so we were left to speculate. The Tokyo-based major corporations that are Rapidus stockholders? That seems likely, especially in light of the November announcement by Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba’s government that it was budgeting ¥10 trillion for semiconductor R&D, including Rapidus.
There is less clarity on whether the Rapidus project will benefit the people of Hokkaido and their home prefecture’s long-term development. That’s why so many Hokkaido politicians and business leaders are either concerned, cautious, or downright skeptical about Rapidus. It’s also the reason they’re asking who will bear the burden if Rapidus fails? Their greatest fear is that failure means Hokkaido individuals and firms will be forced to pick up the bill in the form of higher taxes, and see little or no local economic benefits.
Another issue that gained more attention in 2024 was the question of who should be responsible for helping out financially troubled JR Hokkaido and its increasingly creaky train system. The company cut more Hokkaido routes in 2024, and many existing lines are old and in need of upgrades. Heavy snow and high winds mean maintaining and repairing train lines requires the constant presence of a large workforce willing to work in some of Japan’s toughest weather conditions. And ageing Hokkaido simply does not have the manpower.
The local business community has long recognized that Tokyo tech types who wax lyrical about Hokkaido’s economic development are clueless about the realities on the ground. But pleas to the central government to provide money to JR Hokkaido so more residents don’t have to risk driving their car to work, school, or the supermarket in a snowstorm have been greeted with general indifference.
Finally there is the question of who will bear the political responsibilities for all of the above. The opposition Constitutional Democratic Party of Japan [CDPJ] won big in the October 27 lower house elections, as its candidates ousted a number of Liberal Democratic Party [LDP] veterans. But the CDP is still the opposition party. Its Hokkaido members must convince a very skeptical, even angry, LDP-led central government, LDP-majority local governments, a governor backed by the LDP, and a heavily pro-LDP corporate community that they can govern effectively.
They must, therefore, show that, whatever obstacles, political resistance, and outside criticism comes their way as they pursue answers to Hokkaido’s toughest political, economic, and social issues, that they can do far more than just grin and bear it.
Eric Johnston is the Senior National Correspondent for the Japan Times. Views expressed within are his own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Japan Times.
