Abandoned? Is Shikoku becoming deserted?
Shikoku, Japan’s fourth-largest island, is made up of four prefectures: Ehime, Kochi, Tokushima, and Kagawa. With a population of around 3.5 million, the island basks in a tropical climate, boasts dramatic coastlines, and offers endless stretches of sandy beaches. Its landscape is a vibrant tapestry of lush forests, rugged mountains, and sparkling waters lapping golden shores. While the mountains are blanketed in snow during winter, the cities and lowlands rarely see a single flake. I was lucky enough to explore all four prefectures, each leaving me with unforgettable memories.
Shikoku calls to those yearning for a peaceful escape from the rush of city life, and I wholeheartedly agree that it is worth the journey. It is touted as a great way to glimpse a quieter Japan on paths less trodden. I have explored and written about all four prefectures, sharing stories of their history, attractions, and my adventures. Today, I want to look beyond the island's scenic landscapes and delve into a pressing issue reshaping the island: Shikoku is experiencing a dramatic population decline. Japan has long struggled with a falling birthrate, and as a result, the elderly now make up the majority. This shift is a major reason why Japan is turning to AI and robotics, in hopes that these innovations can fill the roles that an ageing society will increasingly need. Shikoku is one area where depopulation is hitting the hardest. I recently saw a nighttime image of Japan taken from space; beautiful lights dotted the big cities. But there was a notable dark spot. Shikoku was almost devoid of lights, except in its four prefectural capitals, which all lay close to the coast. The centre of the island was a dark zone, no lights, no hints of villages or towns.
Since becoming an ALT, this is a topic I often see covered in classes either as a debate or a talking point. Students think about robots, AI and which industries need help the most, with nearly every class stating concern for health care and looking after the elderly. Among the three schools I teach at, within every class and essay, the concern about the declining population is very real.
Shikoku is the least populated of the four islands that make up Japan. Once heralded as the hub of agriculture, the island started to experience the trend known as emptying out. Younger people move to nearby cities such as Osaka or Hiroshima for more work choices, opportunities, and to be connected to mainland Japan. As a result, areas left behind suffer as the ageing population is left behind. Shops and businesses close as they lack workers. Those left behind are older and not wanting to leave family homes, towns full of fond memories or they lack the money to do so. Many do not want to face the stress of moving away from everything in their old age. Towns and cities lose workers and have less to offer those growing up. The choice of work becomes very limited. There are many anime depicting rural schools with only a handful of students, such as Non-Non Biyuri, one of my favourite slice of life anime. ALTs who are placed in the sticks often report teaching only a few classes a week with small numbers of students.
Estimates vary when calculating how many abandoned houses there are across Japan. I have seen estimates suggesting over 6 million, or that 1 in 8 houses are abandoned. Right now, there are about 7 thousand homes for sale marked as abandoned on Shikoku, this is only homes that can be resold. A reason why neighbourhoods have so many empty, decaying homes is due to complicated land and home laws. There is a lot of red tape surrounding homes, especially when the last member of a family passes away, leaving a house with no inheritor. The land will belong to the deceased family, making it incredibly hard for prefectures to do anything. It also costs money to demolish houses, and there is no one to do so. So, homes will be left to rot. This is the situation where I live. I live south of the main city, and on my 8-minute walk to the bus, I pass many old homes that are falling apart and even dangerous. But nothing can be done about them. It is very hard to get a real number on exactly how many homes lie empty.
On Shikoku, this situation is prevalent. It is nearly impossible to keep track of every home left empty, especially if entire towns become vacant. For example, in the village of Nagoro in Tokushima, a strange trend began where previous residents would slowly be replaced with scarecrows. Nagoro village is a special example, around 400 life-sized scarecrows inhabit the old, crumbling buildings, which one bustled with life. They were made by artist Tsukimi Ayano after she returned to her hometown to find it empty. She started making dolls of the former residents who had passed away or moved. She wanted to highlight depopulation and loneliness, critical issues that Japan now faces. The town has become a somewhat creepy viral attraction despite being hard to reach. There have been many attempts at revitalisation projects around the island. One project which worked was the island of Naoshima it grew viral popularity as an island of art installations. There is also the 88-shrine pilgrimage across the island. However, whilst these things attract visitors, they do not result in encouraging people to move to the island.
I mentioned in a previous blog that the newly revised worst-case scenario Nankai trust maps were published, and Shikoku was marked as being at very high risk. The damage to Shikoku would be devastating. The island is surrounded by water, and any large tsunami caused by the megathrust would spell disaster for large areas of the island. It is theorised that the strait between Honshu and Shikoku would potentially see any large Tsunami bounce between the land masses, causing more damage and devastation. The population also being older means the risk factor is higher; most of the population in Shikoku lives by the coast in the major cities. These maps would not have done much to promote the island as a place to move to.
Whilst claims that the island will become fully abandoned are rampant on the internet. It is very hard to predict what will happen. The mega thrust is predicted, but as to where it could happen or even how strong it’s not guaranteed. Shikoku is an island which is stunning and offers rare chances to see the real Japan. Japan’s ties to nature and its traditions and festivals. Shikoku holds a lot of history and importance in how Japan developed. With the tourism boom that Japan witnesses spiking yearly, it is hard for me to believe that the island will ever become fully abandoned. Whilst many areas will likely become inaccessible as money is funnelled into maintaining the capital. I do think the main cities will remain stable. Especially those with connections to the mainland or those with major tourist hotspots. Tokushima city has, for the past half a century, been stable with its population. It has good connections to Osaka and has many important points of interest, such as the Naruto whirlpools.
If I had to predict what the next fifty years look like, I would predict that four main cities will remain, with their main industry being fishing and tourism. The tourism industry would bring money in to maintain the main cities and potentially lure hotel companies and tour operators into the area. I’d like to think traditional onsens and family-run businesses could piggyback from this, but it’s difficult. With Tokyo being one of the most populated cities in the world, it is incredibly hard to believe an entire island will become a memory. People feeling the crunch in life in the metropolis may seek cheaper and more affordable lives outside of the capital.
What is certain is that more places on the island will become memories and slowly be reclaimed by nature. The urbex community thrives on the island, and there are many online displaying Shikoku’s lost villages. In a sense, the photos and journals they write are a way to keep memories alive. In the same way that the village of dolls remembers the people who once called the island home. There is something sad about the prospect of so many memories and family falling into obscurity. When I visited the island, there were many times when I felt truly rural. Without a car, you are limited to the main cities or anywhere along a bus or train route if there is one. The island will certainly appeal to those wanting to do motorbike holidays or those wanting to camp and observe uninterrupted skies with no light pollution.
Shikoku’s situation is by no means unique; many prefectures face population decline. After visiting 32 prefectures, I noted similar things time and time again. The decaying houses, permanently closed businesses, limited buses and class sizes outside of cities are becoming smaller. Today’s blog had no other purpose than to shine a light on a real situation. I hope attempts to revitalise the island will have the same success as Naoshima and the town of dolls. I am glad to have had the chance to visit all the prefectures on the island, and I hope more people will swap the usual visits to Kyoto, Osaka, Hiroshima and Tokyo for even just a few days on Shikoku.
