As anyone who regularly reads this blog knows, we have issues with the Japanese media’s coverage of real estate prices, since they almost exclusively cover Tokyo. For sure, Tokyo properties mean a lot in the scheme of things, but Tokyo real estate is exceptional in the sense that the city still charts growth while the rest of Japan doesn’t; or, at least, not at the exceptional rate that Tokyo does. Consequently, the huge increases in property values that Tokyo is now seeing don’t really represent Japan, something the media neglects to point out. What you get in the mainstream press when it comes to coverage of real estate is skyrocketing condo prices in Tokyo and akiya—vacant properties—everywhere else, and nothing much in between. So we were intrigued by a recent series in the Asahi Shimbun about how the government assesses property values, since they do it all over Japan. Though the articles don’t explain anything about national trends in property values, they imply that one of the reasons for the lopsided coverage mentioned above is that it’s difficult to trust any related statistics released by the government.
The series was prefaced by an article about an announcement from the municipal government of Chofu, Tokyo, that its assessments for property taxes and so-called city planning taxes were incorrect in 166 cases; specifically, for 88 properties the assessments overestimated their value while for 78 the assessments underestimated their value. The amount of refunds due for the overestimates comes to ¥80.95 million, while the additional imposition of taxes for the underestimated assessments add up to ¥52.61 million.
The mistakes mostly had to do with how land was categorized. For instance, property taxes for land categorized as residential can be reduced by five-sixths if it contains a structure of some kind. Other variables include additional structure, additions to the main structure, and demolition work, all of which would require that the land be reassessed. Apparently, Chofu has yet to determine exactly how they got it wrong, but in any case, according to the law if an assessment is found to be too low, the municipality can demand compensation no more than five years after the original assessment. But if an assessment is too big, then there is no time limit for compensating the property owner.
Obviously, land value assessment is a tricky business that’s open to a lot of subjective factors, so in its Keizai Plus section, Asahi followed up the Chofu item by looking into the broader “mystery” surrounding the land ministry’s public real estate assessments, which are carried out every year for 26,000 locations throughout the country. Two appraisers are assigned to each location, with each one making their own separate assessment, and if there are discrepancies, the ministry mediates. The “correct” valuations are then published on the ministry’s home page.
It sounds simple enough, but when Asahi checked the original valuations of the paired assessors using AI, they found that in 69 percent of the locations assessed, the two appraisals matched exactly, and in the remaining cases the difference was “within 1 percent.” The location with the highest assessment for residential land is Akasaka in Tokyo, and the assessors’ valuations have matched exactly for the last five years. The prefecture with the highest matching rate was Tokushima at 97 percent. Asahi’s initial reaction was that if the valuations are so predictable, then why do they cost so much? The ministry spends ¥4 billion a year on assessments.
Recent media reports say that housing starts are dropping in Japan, which is understandable but also worrying to those who gauge Japan’s economic health. Japan has long promoted new housing as a prime economic stimulus to the point of downplaying sales of used homes. It’s one of the reasons for the so-called akiya (vacant home) problem, and with the population also dropping, the government can no longer count on high volume sales of new home to fuel the economy, regardless of how attractive they make them.
It’s also why the central government has done mostly nothing about the akiya problem. As long as new home sales grew, there was no problem, as far as they were concerned. But local governments have always had to contend with empty houses, which are dangerous eyesores that threaten property values. There’s also the problem of absent owners who disappear and stop paying property taxes. Consequently, it’s been local governments that have come up with measures to address the problem.
But now it seems, the central government is getting involved, albeit cautiously. On Oct. 2, Yomiuri Shimbun reported on a new national plan that would have the government subsidizing renovations of houses that may become vacant in order to make them appealing to young families. Next year, the land ministry will launch a model project that will target “homes in cities and surrounding areas” that can be renovated into homes for couples who are raising children.
The specific type of homeowner for the project will be people who are thinking about moving out of their homes in the future and moving into care facilities. Such actions often lead to vacant properties because the owner does not have an heir or otherwise cannot sell the property. The ministry will interview such owners and, depending on the circumstances, offer the owner subsidies to have the property renovated into a home that would be more suitable for young families or facilities like daycare centers. The subsidy would likely not cover the complete cost of renovation, which the owners would have to carry out themselves.
Obviously, there is a limited benefit to the plan. The target is only properties in cities and their close suburbs, though the most serious akiya problems are in rural areas and more distant suburbs. Moreover, the subsidy system addresses homes that are not yet vacant but could be, meaning that there is still a possibility that the owner, especially if they live in a major city, can sell their property easily if they try. Presumably, the ministry is thinking of homes that would sell more easily if renovated properly, but, in our own experience, we’ve found that buyers of older properties tend to want to renovate according to their own tastes. When owners or realtors renovate for an assumed general taste it doesn’t necessarily make the property easier to sell.
The Yomiuri article also leaves out a lot of details that are needed to judge the viability of the project: At what age would the ministry contact homeowners, and what criteria is used to assess their eligibility? How would the ministry persuade the owners to carry out renovations themselves? If the purpose of the project is to check the number of vacant homes in cities and provide properties that will be easier for young families to buy as urban real estate prices go up, it would probably be more effective for the government to just buy real estate itself and rebuild to desired specifications, but that would contradict the tenets of laissez faire capitalism.
According to a ministry survey, the number of homes in Tokyo and the three surrounding prefectures where the owner is 85 or older is about 340,000. The number is projected to increase to 940,000 by 2033. The increase is similar in the Kinki region: from 210,000 now to 580,000 by 2033. A good portion of these homes were built between the mid-1950s and 1980, meaning they predate quake-proofing technology that is now required. They are beyond renovation. They need to be torn down.
As do many houses that were built after 1981, when quake-proofing standards were first implemented for residential housing. The cost of renovating some structures built even before 2000 may be prohibitive for many of their owners, especially if they are living on fixed incomes. The proposed subsidies, though not finalized yet, will not cover the total cost.
One of the topics being discussed by candidates for the Liberal Democratic Party presidency is foreigners in Japan, and an aspect of that discussion is foreigners buying property. Some years ago the issue came up with regard to security risks, such as land that was near Self-Defense Forces facilities, but now the net is being thrown wider because foreigners with money are buying up land and condominiums for investment purposes and driving up prices, especially in Tokyo where Japanese families are finding themselves priced out of the housing market.
One area that has been popular among foreigners is Niseko in Hokkaido, which is famous for its ski slopes and excellent powder conditions. According to an article that appeared last June in the Asahi Shimbun, if you go to Niseko, you will see a lot of for-sale signs and billboards in English hawking land. The Asahi reporter who went there in May says he saw many construction workers and dump trucks in the area, where there are subdivisions for vacation homes. However, many of the lots in these subdivisions remain vacant, and appear to have been vacant for some time. He found four that were recently put up for public auction due to foreclosure, but not because the owners failed to keep up their loan payments, but rather because they have not kept up with their property tax payments.
According to public records, the four plots were originally sold by a Tokyo realtor in 1988, meaning during the bubble period when everyone thought land prices in Japan would continue increasing forever. The realtor has since gone out of business. Two of the plots are in a vacation home subdivision 2 km south of the main ski area. Land registration records indicate that the subdivision was carved out of a tract of forested land in the 1980s. There is obviously still some demand for second houses, because the reporter saw construction taking place on some plots, but the two in question remain empty. One of the plots is 205 square meters and the market price is ¥3.444 million.
Two other vacant plots originally sold by the Tokyo realtor are located in a mostly forested subdivision 3 km north of the ski area. Though the plots are on prepared ground, they are still empty, and are cheaper than the plots in the south subdivision, ¥492,000 for 385 square meters.
Originally, the plots were bought by someone who lived in Sapporo between 1979 and 1983 as investments, but after the bubble ended there were few buyers, which is why development stalled and many plots remained vacant. However, starting about 20 years ago, the ski area became popular among foreigners, in particular Australians. But the reporter also found several plots that were registered to addresses in China, and still more registered to addresses in local towns but with names that were in katakana, thus indicating the owners weren’t Japanese.
A bulletin board in front of the town hall lists notifications of properties with unpaid property tax bills that includes the addresses of the delinquent owners, most of which live overseas. In almost all the cases, the reporter learned, notices of delinquent payments were sent to the addresses overseas and later returned because the notice was undeliverable for some reason. The number of unreachable owners exceeds 100.
A representative of the town’s tax division told the reporter that after a certain period of time, the town can foreclose on the land and put it up for sale. Last year, they did that for 11 plots. And it isn’t just individual plots earmarked for vacation homes. In 2022, the town foreclosed on a construction company that owned a hotel near the ski area due to unpaid property tax bills. The company is based in Tokyo, but the president’s name is, again, in katakana and the company is registered in the Cayman Islands, a famous tax haven.
In an article we wrote for the Number 1 Shimbun last year we talked about a new government scheme called Sozoku Tochi Kokko Kizoku Seido, a “system for returning inherited land to the state,” which makes it possible someone who has inherited land they don’t want to transfer title to the central government. We expressed doubt as to whether the scheme would at all be effective in resolving the huge unmanaged land issue in Japan because the conditions for the government accepting the land in question seemed onerous. In order for the land to pass approval for acquisition, the nominal owners would be subject to a screening process that most would not be able to pass.
It’s been more than a year since the plan went into effect, and according to a YouTube interview with the real estate lawyer Tatsuya Arai, who specializes in abandoned properties, the system seems to be working better than expected, even if the number of cases accepted by the government is still pretty small. Arai says that the prognosis for the government scheme “is unexpectedly good,” according to lawyers and notaries he talked to.
The Ministry of Justice (MOJ) released statistics related to the 1,905 applications it had received for the ssystem as of April of 2024. Land registered for agricultural use accounted for the largest number of applications, 721. After that, 698 applications were for residential land, 280 for “forested” land in mountainous areas, and 206 for “others.” The reason residential land and forested land were not represented more, Arai believes, is because the conditions for application made it difficult. Applications must be accompanied by photographs of the property in question showing border markers (kui), which in the case of forested land in remote mountainous areas is difficult—most owners of such land don’t even live close to it and, in some cases, may not even know exactly where it is. In the case of residential land, the property must be completely cleared, meaning any structures that were built on it must be torn down and the land “cleared.” Moreover, many residential lots developed just after the war were not surveyed properly and/or the lots were built in cities where laws were later passed designating road widths and other infrastructure regulations, so the border markers may not be legal. But farmland is relatively easy because it usually contains no structures and the borders are usually easy to discern because owners needed to distinguish their land from their neighbors’.
Of the 1,905 applications received, 248 (107 residential, 57 farm, 6 mountain, 78 others) were approved, which may not sound like a lot, but one has to take into consideration that it requires at least 8 months to screen the applications, according to the MOJ. Then, after the screening, there is another process that must be carried out before the government decides to acquire the land. For Arai, the important aspect is not how many applications have so far been approved, but how many have not been approved, and that number is only 18. That means the approval rate for the applications initially submitted is 93 percent, which is much higher than Arai and his colleagues in the legal professsion thought it would be.
Of course, the main obstacle is, as already mentioned, the set of conditions for the application, and Arai is positive that there are many more than 1,905 people—he estimates the number is in the millions—who want to get rid of the land they have inherited or will inherit. In that regard, he thinks more people should make the effort to apply. In addition, the ministry has not promoted the new scheme very much, so many people who could take advantage of it may not even know about it. But that aspect could also be hiding a less convenient truth, which is that the central government is not really enthusiastic about acquiring land it cannot use easily. He has the feeling that once the number of approvals reaches a certain level, the ministry may tack on new conditions that will make it more difficult for approval. Also, it costs money: ¥14,000 for the application itself and then, once the application is approved and the government decides to acquire the land, a much larger fee to actually execute the transfer of title. He mentions that 212 applications were actually withdrawn during the screening process, which could indicate several things: the applicant found a buyer for the land, or the applicant realized how much it would cost them if the application was approved. But even factoring in these withdrawals, the approval rate is still quite good.
Arai recommends that anyone who wishes to take advantage of the system call the Ministry of Justice and explain their situation. The MOJ will tell them outright if their application even has a chance because they don’t want to waste time either. He says that the ministry received more than 10,000 inquiry calls as of April 2024, so since only 1,905 applications were made, it indicates many of the callers had already been discouraged from applying. That said, if the MOJ thinks you have a case for an application, the chances are good it will be successful. He also adds that the MOJ is “the strictest of all the government ministries,” so make sure the applications are properly filled out. Even an incorrectly written kanji might mean a rejection.
We’ve written about Yusuke Yoshikawa, a YouTuber who covers what he calls “genkai new towns,” which are difficult to describe, but anyone who has followed our blog for any extended amount of time should be familiar with the concept. Essentially, Yoshikawa seeks out derelict housing developments, mainly in Chiba Prefecture where he lives (and where we live, too). He makes videos of these subdivisions, which contain not only abandoned houses, but plots of land that have never had anything built on them and thus are usually overgrown with vegetation because the people who own them have given up on whatever plans they had for the land. According to Yoshikawa, most of these plots were bought for investment purposes during or shortly after the bubble period of the late 80s and early 90s. His well researched and very funny videos have garnered him enough followers to allow him to make a living off this pastime, and he has recently been in demand as a paid speaker and published a book that is selling well. He’s a self-made success, but not in material terms. As he has pointed out, he himself lives in one of these genkai new towns, somewhere past Narita, because he could no longer afford to live in Tokyo, where he was a cab driver. In a sense, he’s stuck where he is but says he nevertheless can blog from a unique perspective about the state of Japanese real estate. He’s the most honest, clear-headed critic in the field, and he’s totally a layman.
On Dec. 6, Asahi Shimbun ran an interview with Yoshikawa conducted at his home. The interviewer sounds a bit naive about Japan’s property situation, but maybe he’s just taking the role of the average reader. In any case, if we were doing the interviewing (and we hope to someday) we’d have more pointed questions, but this will do for now and, we hope, steer more people to Yoshikawa’s blog.
As the reporter points out in the introduction, Yoshikawa lives on the edge of the Tokyo metropolitan are, meaning a place where you can sense the population dropping off and nature taking over places where people were supposed to be living. He notes “land that was prepared for residences” but which contain “no buildings.” Infrastructure is either non-existent or “in very bad condition.” He hopes these descriptions help the reader gain a better understanding of Yoshikawa’s term, genkai new town, which has entered the vocabulary thanks to the internet. When he meets Yoshikawa at his home in one of these developments, he remarks how lonely it is. The paved streets and retaining walls make it clear that this area was prepared for residences, but there are no people.
Yoshikawa explains that the area was developed “several decades ago” but for the most part very few people built houses on the land they bought. The interviewer mentions very old signs with the names of real estate companies that, presumably, are trying to sell particular plots, and Yoshikawa responds that in most of these cases the seller has given up and doesn’t even come to keep the plot tidy. These developments are what he calls “small scale new towns,” new towns being, in the public’s mind, large residential projects carried out with the help of public entities to develop tracts of land. Most of the more well-known new towns were built in the 60s and 70s, but these small scale new towns were built by developers as subdivisions of land that was no longer being used for agriculture, mainly during the bubble period, when real estate values skyrocketed and commercial entities were convinced that people who couldn’t afford homes in the major cities would flock to the outskirts of suburbia to live. These companies were overzealous and so were the small-time investors who bought plots in the belief that they could sell them later for more money. At some point, however, there were just too many small scale developments being built and the whole endeavor just collapsed.
He goes on to explain how he was living in Tokyo’s Koto Ward in 2017 and having a tough time making ends meet because the cost of living kept rising. Both he and his wife worked, but they had no savings or assets and assumed if they remained in Tokyo they would just be living hand-to-mouth in small rental properties for the rest of their lives. So they looked for a place to buy that they could afford and this derelict property was the closest thing they could find. Though the development has 64 lots, only 7 contain houses.
There’s a certain information lag that comes with media reporting on larger social phenomena. The whole akiya/vacant housing issue has become big news in Japan over the last decade, but it was a fact of Japanese life well before that. This blog, in fact, which began in 2009, was initially conceived as a means of explaining our belief that Japan would eventually have to face a surplus of housing due to its policy of building and selling new homes without any regard for existing and future housing stock. Akiya had been on the increase well before the media started paying attention, and just now the press is beginning to report on other effects of oversupply, but in the context of the demographic crisis, meaning depopulation.
A recent story in Gendai Business covered a bestseller by Masashi Kawai called Mirai no Nenpyo (Chronology of the Future), which puts into perspective how depopulation will affect the economy with respect to four fields: housing, medical care, local government, and public safety. In terms of housing, Kawai says the main immediate effect will be that houses will become difficult to sell, a situation that is already quite apparent in certain rural suburban areas of Japan. However, Kawai is not just talking about existing or used housing, which has been difficult to sell for a while now, but also new housing. That’s because the prime demographic for new house sales, people in their 30s with families, is shrinking in size so significantly. Statistics can be misleading. Overall, land value has increased in Japan, as well as the demand for new housing, but these two circumstances have been spurred by seniors with money to burn. They buy expensive condominiums in city centers as a means of reducing the inheritance tax burden for their heirs; or these high-end properties are being bought as investments because the buyers believe that real estate is the most stable place to park their money. Consequently, the market as a whole seems primed for growth, but it’s lopsided.
Tomorrow will bring what could be termed the 30-30-30 problem: In 30 years the number of people in their 30s—the prime demographic for new house sales—will have shrunk 30 percent compared to right now. This cohort is already marrying later in life than their parents did, which means if they do buy a home it might not be until they are in their 40s or even later. Right now, the common time frame for housing loans is 30 years, but as the home-buying layer of the population ages, the terms for most mortgages may shorten to 20-25 years, which means the people seeking these loans will likely be faced with higher interest rates and thus be looking for less expensive housing.
As we’ve pointed out in previous posts, the prices of new condos in Tokyo have risen considerably in the past few years owing to the high cost of construction, lowering supply, and an increase in sales to investors, whether Japanese or foreign. A June 20 article in the Asahi Shimbun about the cheap yen includes remarks from realtors who say that new condos in central Tokyo will remain expensive for the near future, with some, in fact, explaining that now they only deal with high-earning double income couples and rich investors.
In light of this situation, the news surrounding one large Tokyo condo complex has been instructive. Harumi Flag, which was originally built to be the athletes village for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, finally started receiving residents in January after renovations to turn the living quarters into condominiums was delayed almost two years by the pandemic. However, according to a June 7 report by NHK, as of the end of May a good portion of the units in the 17 buildings that have been sold so far are empty, which NHK finds strange since the demand for the Harumi Flag condos was quite intense owing mainly to the fact that prices were reasonable compared to other real estate in the area. NHK’s investigation found that many of the units were bought by investors, which shouldn’t sound strange given the current real estate climate in Tokyo, but the Harumi Flag project was initiated by the Tokyo prefectural government for the secondary purpose of eventually selling the residences to people who would live in them, in particular families. That’s supposedly why the initial prices were set lower.
NHK checked the title registrations of 1,089 units of the 2,690 that have been sold so far in the Sun Village part of the complex. Mitsui Fudosan Residential, the company that headed the consortium of 11 developers involved in the project, has been selling the condos in phases, and in the most recent phase there were an average of 71 applications for each unit. There were no limits to how many applications a potential buyer could submit or units they could purchase if their luck was good. Under such circumstances, institutional investors applied for as many units as they could, since they could buy as many units as possible by borrowing money more easily. In fact, NHK discovered that 292 units out of the 1,089 they checked were owned by companies, or one out of four. Sales began in 2019, and four sales phases were carried out in 2021 and 2022, with the largest number of companies registered as owners with the justice ministry following the last of these. However, when NHK checked with the Chuo Ward office it found that there were no resident registrations (juminhyo) listed for 30 percent of the condos, meaning that, technically, no one is living in these condos. In fact, more than half the units sold during the last phase were bought by companies, with many purchasing more than one unit. The investors who own the 292 units in question comprise 147 companies, most of them dealing in real estate and investment. On further investigation, NHK found that only five of these units were being used by their corporate owners as offices. NHK makes a special note in the report that all these corporate owners are Japanese, which they think is surprising considering all the media attention being paid to foreign buyers of Tokyo real estate.
One investment company from Fukuoka, in fact, owns 38 units, and while they wouldn’t talk to NHK, their home page mentions their involvement in Harumi Flag “at an early stage” to “ensure stable returns on investments.” Two other companies did talk to NHK on condition of anonymity. One had 3 units in the complex and owned properties in Tokyo and Yokohama, as well as in the U.S. Their total real estate investments amount to ¥3 billion. A different company owns “more than 4 units” in Harumi Flag, and says they applied for and bought condos during each sales phase. In the beginning, they weren’t sure if the investment was wise, but now they are very happy because they are sure they can sell them for a hefty profit, and that seems to be the case. NHK says that so far hundreds of units have already been resold or are on the market for prices that are from 50 to 100 percent higher than their initial sales price. According to one real estate portal site, a 4LDK, 100-square meter unit in Sun Village that originally sold for ¥106 million is now on sale for ¥238 million.
But the market is still hot, so many of the investor-buyers are not planning on selling for a while and instead are renting out their units. Unfortunately, there are too many units for rent in the complex so few have found tenants, though there are other reasons for the low occupancy rate. Harumi Flag is 20 minutes from the nearest station and all the leases have a limit of two to five years, because the owners may want to sell the units if the price peaks. NHK doesn’t mention the cost of rent, but when we checked portal sites we found one 86-square meter unit asking for ¥420,000 a month and a 65-square meter unit going for ¥280,000 a month.
NHK talked to one couple in their 60s who made 7 attempts to buy a unit in Harumi Flag and failed. Their budget was ¥80 million, which was more than sufficient for a good-sized condo during the initial sales phases but not enough to buy one that is being resold, so they’ve given up, even though several buildings in the complex are still under construction.
We’ve written extensively about Tokyo’s current condo boom without really addressing what it will lead to in the long run. Most commentators seem to expect a burst bubble, like the one that happened in the early 90s following a similar over-valuation of properties in the late 80s. However, there is an important difference in that the current Tokyo bubble is being pumped up by rich people. The average price of a new condo in the capital has exceeded ¥100 million. In the late 80s, the bubble was caused by everyone, since the huge boomer cohort had secured its lifetime employment and banks were willing to lend them money. Even though housing interest rates are low in Japan compared to the bubble era, younger families with average incomes who still insist on buying new condos are finding it difficult to find anything they can afford in the 23 wards, according to local media.
A recent video on the YouTube real estate channel Rakumachi put the present bubble in perspective, especially in terms of what it holds for the future. According to Tomohiro Makino, a “real estate producer” whose career started in the 80s, people who say the Tokyo condo market is “over-heated” need to look at classic supply-and-demand. “Over-heated” suggests that the market will eventually cool, but since this particular bubble is being caused by rich people and institutional or business investors, it isn’t that simple. Scarcity is one of the factors fueling the over-heated prices: the number of new condos on sale in recent years is one-third the number that were on sale in a given year two decades ago. Much of the reason for this scarcity is the high cost of building materials and lack of labor. Building a condominium is much more time- and capital-intensive than it used to be, so developers have scaled down. And with prices so high, buyers trend toward people who benefit from certain financial realities, such as foreign investors who can exploit the historically cheap yen. Even rich elderly Japanese who don’t necessarily need a new place to live are buying high-end condos in Tokyo as hedges against taxes their heirs will have to pay when they die. So they invest their cash in real estate, which can lower the inheritance tax burden by as much as 70 percent. Those who do buy new Tokyo condos for living purposes tend to be so-called power couples—married people whose combined incomes exceed ¥15 million a year.
So the high condo prices are essentially being maintained by a small group of people. Nomura Securities says the number of “very wealthy” households in Japan, meaning they are worth more than ¥500 million each, is around 90,000, for combined assets (not counting debt) of ¥105 trillion. Merely “wealthy” households (¥100-¥500 million) number around 1.4 million with ¥259 trillion in assets; “less wealthy” (¥50-¥100 million) number 3.3 million with ¥258 trillion; upper middle class (¥30-¥50 million) number 7.2 million with ¥332 trillion; and the vast middle class (less than ¥30 million), numbering 42 million, is worth ¥678 trillion. Though the top two tiers account for a bit more than 2 million households, the amount of assets they control is considerable. Much has been made of the global income gap in recent years, and Makino says the top 1 percent in Japan has seen its wealth increase by 80 percent since 2013, when Abenomics. The investment market was flooded with easy money, but average households received no comparable benefit from the policy. Makino says that its effect on real estate has led to the over-heated condo market, putting Tokyo real estate out of the reach of the middle class. Developers don’t even think about this group of consumers, because they know that even if every condo they build is luxury-class, they can still sell them. Consequently, they don’t have to build that many in order to make as much money as they used to make when they sold to everyone. The average price of a new condo in the 23 wards as recently as 2015 was ¥60 million. Last year it was ¥115 million. And due to the lag in construction costs, prices will continue to go up for the near future.
And it’s construction costs that are the main concern for developers, since right now they account for 70 percent of the cost of a condo, the other 30 percent being land. This aspect is very significant, because while land prices vary greatly depending on location, construction costs do not. It costs almost the same to build a condo in the suburbs as it does to build one in the center of Tokyo, so most developers are putting as much of their money and resources as they can into the city. Even mid-sized developers that tend to do all their work in the suburbs are foregoing new construction to invest in new condos in Tokyo by borrowing money to buy them from major developers. Then they quickly resell them to make money. The most prevalent example of this kind of practice in the news right now is the Harumi Flag complex on the waterfront, which was built as the Tokyo 2020 Olympic athletes village and then sold or rented out afterwards. A substantial number of the condos remain empty because they’ve been bought by corporations, including developers, as investments, thus pushing the price of individual units up. According to Makino, some companies have bought from 10 to 20 units in Harumi Flag.
Makino sees this trend continuing as long as interest rates remain low, since most investors don’t use their own money to buy real estate. Once rates start to rise, he says, the market will cool as investors pull out. Now that the era of the “negative interest rate” has ended in Japan, he thinks that such a change is on the horizon, even if many experts believe the Bank of Japan won’t increase interest rates due to the amount of government bonds it has. But the BOJ doesn’t control interest rates. Other factors, including environmental disasters, international politics, even rumors, will always come into play, and once they do “the party will be over,” meaning even foreign investors will bail regardless of the exchange rate. This could prove to be a huge shock to the system. After all, young Japanese adults today know nothing about interest, having been born without any experience of bank deposits earning interest. It’s unrealistic to think that this kind of environment will persist indefinitely, but until it does change it’s also unrealistic to thing that average Japanese people will step in when wealthy investors drop out. It’s just too risky for the average household to buy a condo in Tokyo now or in the near future.
If Makino were to give advice to potential middle class homeowners who want to live in Tokyo, it would be to wait, probably until 2030, by which time he says the “market will surely change.” Not only will prices for condos, used and new, go down, but so likely will rents. And his reasons for thinking so are grounded in an unavoidable truth. Households headed by people over 65 in the Tokyo metropolitan area now number 9 million, with half of those headed by people over 75. That number will steadily increase. After 2025 all the 1.5 million boomers living in the metro area will be over 75, and while lifespans are also increasing, it won’t be long before this cohort starts dying out in record numbers, which means their property will either be left to heirs or abandoned, if it hadn’t already been sold. These people came to the metro area in their youth to work, and they bought homes. But their children, now middle aged, mostly own their own homes, too, and so won’t need their parents’, which means they’ll sell it or do something worse (pretend to ignore it?), but in any case there will be a lot of empty homes on the market. This, as Makino points out, is the heart of the akiya problem, which will only intensify by the end of the decade, throwing the real estate market, including Tokyo’s, into turmoil. Oversupply will become a chronic issue unless the construction industry and the authorities change their tune with regard to building new residences, which is pretty much all they think about now.
In December, the Chiba city office of East Japan Railways (JR East) announced a change in the timetable for the Keiyo Line that would start in March. The Keiyo runs from Tokyo Station parallel to the Tokyo Bay shoreline south to Soga Station in Chiba city. It is the train line that services Tokyo Disneyland and the Makuhari district of Chiba, which is the home of Makuhari Messe, one of the metro area’s biggest exhibition and convention facilities. The reason for the timetable change was the removal of the Commuter Express train, which does not make any stops between Shin Kiba Station in Tokyo and Soga, and which operated twice in the morning and twice in the evening. The Commuter Express would be replaced by local trains, which stop at every station on the line, but several Rapid Express trains would be added during off-peak hours in the daytime.
According to the transportation-oriented website Impress Watch, the announcement was met with opposition from local governments affected by the Keiyo Line, including Chiba city’s and Chiba Prefecture’s. In addition, the major media covered the matter with an eye as to how the changes would affect commuters, many of whom demanded that JR East reinstate the Commuter Express. As a compromise, the company added two Rapid Express trains to the morning peak and two to the evening peak, which was highly unusual. Once a railway company changes a timetable they almost never change it back, even partially. However, the compromise may not be enough for commuters who rely on the Keiyo Line to get to their jobs in the capital. In fact, many probably bought their homes on the Chiba peninsula because of the Keiyo Commuter Express, which is why many real estate companies and residential housing developers are nervous about the timetable changes.
JR East told NHK that the number of passengers on the line has decreased by up to 30 percent during peak periods compared to before the pandemic. There are a total of 18 stations on the Keiyo Line, of which 7 are not serviced by the Commuter Express and the Rapid Express. The company thinks that people who live near these stations are inconvenienced by the former express train timetables, and wanted to give them more opportunities to use the line. In addition, local trains have to wait at certain stations along the line for Commuter Express and Rapid Express trains to pass, thus further inconveniencing local train users. Though JR East emphasizes that they’re thinking about local line users, it’s their own bottom line that’s really at issue. Those who use the various express trains to get to work are already locked in as customers, so the strategy of the timetable change is to add passengers by increasing local runs and making them more “efficient” for those passengers. And on paper, at least, the difference in time doesn’t seem that bad. During peak hours, the local train from Soga to Tokyo, and vice versa, takes only 19 more minutes than the Commuter Express.
At the end of March, JR Tokai admitted something that we have been writing about for a number of years, which is that the inaugural Shinagawa-Nagoya leg of the Chuo Shinkansen, more popularly known as the linear motorcar in Japanese and the maglev in English, will not open in 2027 as originally planned. JR Tokai, the railway company in charge of the project (often referred to as JR Central in English), had already submitted a notification to the transport ministry in December saying that the maglev wouldn’t open until “after 2027,” but didn’t announce the revision publicly until March 28. Some reporters and at least one major media outlet, the Nihon Keizai Shimbun (Nikkei), have been suggesting for years that, given the unprecedented scale of the project, there was no way JR Tokai was going to open the line, which will zip passengers between Tokyo and Nagoya in 40 minutes, by 2027.
The company was going to have to deliver the bad news eventually and needed a convenient scapegoat. They already had one in the form of Shizuoka Prefecture Governor Heita Kawakatsu, who had been a thorn in the side of the project for more than a decade (though the prefecture’s beef with JR Tokai extends back to before his administration). JR Tokai is now blaming Kawakatsu almost exclusively for the delay. As we’ve explained in the past, the governor, who professes to be in favor of the maglev, had refused to grant the company permission to carry out tunnel construction in his prefecture until it could guarantee that the Oi River, which is in the vicinity of the construction work, would not lose any water as a result. Tens of thousands of residents rely on the river as a water source, and JR Tokai’s own impact study projected that tunnel construction would result in a significant loss. The problem has been a matter of debate between the prefecture and the railway since 2014.
According to Nikkei, the transport ministry called a meeting at the end of March where the water problem was discussed within a framework of environmental conservation related to the maglev construction, and at the start of the meeting JR Tokai President Shunsuke Niwa said that, due to Shizuoka’s intransigence, he could no longer project when the Shinagawa-Nagoya leg would open. Another JR Tokai official explained that the original construction period of 17 years “could not be shortened,” and since it would have taken ten years to complete the line after construction of the Shizuoka section started, even if they did so this year they wouldn’t be able to finish the 8.9 kilometers of tunnel that passes through the prefecture until 2034. This is a big problem for JR Tokai since local governments and businesses located along the maglev line have been carrying out infrastructure construction and redevelopment in anticipation of a 2027 opening, and the delay could cost them money and, more significantly, public trust.
Then, on April 2, Kawakatsu announced he would resign in June, one year before his fourth term is up, for something that had nothing to do with the maglev or JR Tokai. During a speech to welcome new prefectural employees, the governor made a stupid remark belittling vegetable sellers and other occupations. All the media reports on the resignation mentioned that JR Tokai had blamed Kawakatsu for the fact that the maglev wouldn’t open in 2027, and while the ostensible reason for Kawakatsu’s standing down is the remark, he told reporters, perhaps passive-aggressively, that he wanted to remove himself as an obstacle to the tunnel construction.
Cat Foreheads & Rabbit Hutches 