mandag 22. september 2025

Torbjørn Færøvik: The Sun Sets in the Land of the Rising Sun

The geishas are not many, but they still go to work. In the old days, they counted in the tens of thousands. Now only a few hundred remain, most of them found in Tokyo or Kyoto. But Japan as a nation is also shrinking. The population peaked in 2010 at just over 128 million. Today it has fallen to 124 million, and it will shrink further. A veil of pessimism hangs over the Japanese archipelago, and many worry about what lies ahead.

Yesterday, the lights were switched off at the World Championship stadium in Tokyo. The event ran smoothly, and several Japanese athletes distinguished themselves with fine performances.

But now the country returns to everyday life. For the government’s family planners, it will be especially grim. Just last year, the population fell by 550,000. “Will Japan disappear?” one newspaper asked when the news broke. Another declared that the sun is beginning to set on the once-glorified Land of the Rising Sun.

The government’s forecasts for the coming decades make for discouraging reading. By 2050, the population may fall below 100 million, and by 2100 it could be around 87 million. Hiroshi Yoshida, professor at the University of Tokyo, is, if anything, even more pessimistic: “If current trends continue, Japan’s population could be halved by the end of the century. It is a question of the nation’s very existence.”
Why aren’t the Japanese having more children?

Much of the explanation is that Japan today is highly urbanized. Nearly 95 percent of the population lives in cities and densely populated areas. The country is also marked by a tough work culture: high speed, long days, and minimal free time. That leaves little room for family life. Housing is cramped as well, especially in Tokyo, with its 14 million residents. Many must make do with apartments of just twenty to thirty square meters.

“We have neither the time nor the energy to have children,” is the common refrain.

The result is a fertility rate of just 1.2 children per woman—well below the replacement level of 2.1.

Young couples who want to start families must also consider the high costs of raising children. Daycare, school, and everything that comes with them—nothing is free. For economic reasons, many young people choose to delay or skip marriage altogether.

The outlook is worsened by Japan’s struggling economy. The OECD predicts GDP growth of just 0.7 percent this year. By 2026, it may sink to 0.4 percent. The low forecasts are largely due to uncertainty in exports. For years Japan has earned vast sums from its massive export industry, but now the country is challenged by Donald Trump’s trade barriers and growing competition from China.

But the gradual reduction of the population also affects the economy. While women hesitate to have children, the elderly population is increasing rapidly—and they all need food, medicine, and shelter. Japanese women are expected to live to 87 years, men to 81. Few other countries can show comparable numbers.

The bill for the elderly naturally becomes steep and must be paid by an ever-shrinking working population. Like other nations, Japan can compensate for the loss of labor by automating—and robotizing—more of its production. Much has already been done, but as the finance minister sighed the other day: “Robots are wonderful, but they don’t pay taxes.”

Japan has traditionally been reluctant to import labor. Ever since the sun first rose in the east, the Japanese have strived to keep foreign “barbarians” at a distance.

In recent years, however, the government in Tokyo has eased the rules and allowed limited immigration of skilled workers, such as healthcare staff from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the Philippines. How far the government will go could become a hot political issue. This autumn, there are about 2.4 million foreign workers in Japan. Tradition-bound Japanese say that is more than enough, while many employers are crying out for more.

While politicians and experts scratch their heads, the countryside is being depopulated at a rapid pace. Many villages are simply vanishing. Nagoro, a small community in the south, is a good example. Almost all the residents have left; only a handful remain. A local artist, Ayano Tsukumi, has made more than three hundred life-sized dolls to replace those who are gone. The dolls sit in abandoned houses, wait at the bus stop, or stand in front of the grocery store—which is closed.

The few who remain are mostly elderly. Villages where more than half the residents are 65 or older are often called “border villages.” It means they are living on borrowed time. Researchers estimate there are thousands of such settlements, especially in mountain regions and on smaller islands.

The consequences are well known. Schools, shops, and health clinics shut down. The next thing to go is public transportation. Those who remain feel isolated and abandoned. Studies show that suicide rates in these communities are higher than the national average.

If it is any consolation, population decline is also hitting China and South Korea hard. In the short term, there is little they can do to reverse the trend. Public subsidies and bonuses for couples who have two or more children have had little effect. The only real solution would be to moderate the work culture in the three countries—and that will not be easy.

“Confucius bears some of the blame,” says Professor Luo Lu at Taiwan National University. “He lived 2,500 years ago, but he still influences us.”

As a moral philosopher, Confucius emphasized virtues such as discipline and hard work. He lived and taught in China, but his ideas took deep root in neighboring countries. Even today he is honored with incense and prayer in the countless temples named after him. In Tokyo, devotees visit the 400-year-old Confucius Temple (Yushima Seido) in the city center. “Happiness and long life!” reads the inscription above the main gate.

It should also be noted that not all Japanese lament the shrinking population. “Look at our cities,” an environmental activist told the major daily Asahi Shimbun. “Look at the rush-hour crush in Tokyo. What does it matter if we are a few million fewer? We’ll have more space and cleaner air. Isn’t that what we want?”