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Japan, Part 3 – In the Field, Continued
There are some places in Japan that I know like the back of my hand, particularly the western part of Fukushima Prefecture (where I worked) and Tokyo (where I played – as often as I could manage). Over the two years I lived there, I took plenty of opportunities for traveling and learning about the history of different regions, though the vast majority of those travels were to northern destinations. I always thought of Japan’s southernmost prefecture as a beachy, touristy destination – and since I am not a big fan of either of those things, it was never high on my priority list. However, it turns out that Okinawa – in the context of my Climate Lab and through the lens of its native culture – represented a valuable experience and an apt destination.
Ryukyu Heritage
As a mainland resident, I never thought much about Okinawa, other than the fact that it was one of Japan’s 47 prefectures, i.e. Japanese. In reality, the island chain that makes up Okinawa Prefecture was its own kingdom less than 150 years ago, and its proud and sad history is yet another example of the colonialism we saw throughout our Climate Lab field visits. The unification of three separate kingdoms in 1429 created the Kingdom of the Ryukyus, and it played a key role in maritime trade for about two centuries: ships traveled to and from China, Vietnam, Korea, Siam (now Thailand), Sumatra, and Japan. Its strategic location and presence on the international stage in that part of the world earned the Ryukyu Kingdom the nickname “bridge between nations.”
Although the kingdom was wealthy and influential for its size (or perhaps because of it), Japan invaded in 1609, making the kingdom a vassal state; Japan further made it part of its own empire in 1872, dissolved the kingdom, and converted it to a Japanese prefecture in 1879. [1] Japan wasn’t the only country that recognized the strategic value of Okinawa: on April 1, 1945, the United States invaded with 185,000 troops and for more than two months faced a fierce defense on the ground in what was the bloodiest battle in the Pacific theater in World War II. The Battle of Okinawa resulted in approximately 50,000 Allied and 100,000 Japanese deaths, respectively; the latter included a significant number of Okinawan civilians. The subsequent construction of US military bases there resulted in the further displacement of approximately 250,000 residents by 1955. [2]
The US “trusteeship” of Okinawa ended in 1972, when the US “returned” it to Japan, but at the time, many Okinawans believed the shift simply represented another change of hands between occupiers of what was once a prosperous and independent kingdom. Today, there remains a small number of Okinawans (about 3%) who want independence, but economic feasibility of such a move would be questionable with their per capita income among the lowest of Japan’s prefectures. [3] Even among those who don’t want outright independence from Japan, there is a significant desire to reduce the trappings of colonialism. Although Okinawa makes up 0.6% of Japan’s landmass, about 75% of US military personnel located in Japan are based there, which is still a difficult thing to reconcile on this historically peace-loving island.
Informed Leadership
There is also a feeling (based on conversations with some residents) that the rest of Japan doesn’t truly understand the issues that Okinawa faces – I certainly didn’t until my trip there. And, ultimately, while Okinawa has representation in the national government, their voice is only one out of 47. While they have unique concerns, those concerns aren’t always understood, acknowledged, or addressed. For that reason, the prefectural government is taking broad action so its residents can not just survive but thrive in a world increasingly impacted by the existential threat of climate change.
The Prefecture of Okinawa is made up of 160 (inhabited and uninhabited) islands, with a population of over 1 million on less than 900 square miles. Nearly one third of its population lives in the capital city of Naha, on the island of Okinawa. We made effective use of our time in Naha, with the Japan Foundation securing some impressive meetings for our cohort – including one with the prefectural government’s Department of Environmental Restoration. Members of their team described their climate change adaptation plan, which included mitigation measures, such as clean transportation, clean energy, carbon sinks, and energy efficiency. Okinawa’s greenhouse gas emissions peaked in 2005, but they still have issues with energy production as a chain of islands with no large-scale generating capacity. Microgrids with local solar PV and storage options are a necessity for energy supply as well as individual behavior changes to manage demand.
The team touted the fact that there is not much manufacturing on the island, reducing that aspect of their carbon footprint. However, as a prefecture heavily dependent upon tourism as an economic driver, we still recognized that consumption of goods (no matter where they’re produced) still represent emissions somewhere, which is still a global issue. Okinawa was yet one more place we visited trying to reconcile the economic need of being able to sustain its tourism industry with the existential need of lowering climate impacts – you can only do so much to limit comfort for guests who want to be pampered before they simply decide to go somewhere else. But I wondered about Okinawa’s residents, who must surely have a better sense of the immediate need for reduced consumption. My question about better education to reduce demand in the first place was met with a roundabout answer that still came back to more effective waste management – much to my disappointment – though there are some nascent efforts in the works to teach kids about the dangers of plastic pollution and the benefits of ethical consumption.
But I know from my own day job that policy change is glacial, even in a warming world. The scientific method is not exactly speedy either, but sound policy is reliant on the most current scientific knowledge, which often comes from research institutions. And although I decided more than a decade ago that I wouldn’t be going to grad school for science, I started to question that determination once we set foot onto the campus of the Okinawa Institute of Science and Technology. The architecture, designed to complement the natural surroundings, made it feel like we were on an alien world; the way the university is set up, at least for anyone who has spent time in academia, was an alien world. In order to promote innovative cross-disciplinary work, they have done away with traditional academic departments. There are, instead, teams that study certain subjects, with a range of disciplines devoted to exploring different aspects of a given issue. [5]
Those Who Have No Voice
Understandably, impacts of climate change on things like storm dynamics and coral reef health are topics of interest at OIST. Coral reefs are more than just pretty, though their prettiness generates about $3 Trillion in global tourism every year. They occupy 0.2% of the ocean but foster 30% of marine species; they provide islands with protection from waves, food in the form of fish that live there, and natural carbon sequestration through photosynthesis. Coral is a living creature that needs warm, clear water, but rising ocean temperatures, dropping ocean pH, and careless over-tourism are stressing and killing them. Warming water and acidity bleach the coral, which effectively limits their ability to breathe – a coral that is bleached is suffocating, and once it’s gone, its many benefits go with it.
OIST researchers are working to identify coral species that are more resistant to warmer temperatures and propagate them to help reinforce resilience resilience (though it should be noted that that is not a solution: we need to stop ocean warming in the first place to provide necessary protections). Warming waters also contribute to more intense storms, which result in more damage on land with landslides, flooding, and debris in high winds, but also in the reefs if waves are strong enough. Interestingly, we learned that typhoons pull cooler water toward the reef, providing a cooling effect that is beneficial for the coral – the lesson being that storms are natural (i.e. not bad) and serve a purpose. The increasing intensity of storms as a result of warming oceans is what’s bad and needs to be mitigated through better research, a stronger bridge between research and policy, and decisions that don’t create more harm than good.
I also know from my day job that smaller organizations and community-based efforts are far more agile than government and institutional entities, if grossly under-resourced by comparison. As we saw at OIST, breaking down disciplinary silos for broader perspectives is an incredibly valuable step for research; similarly, it is – I would say – critical to be able to pair real world examples with scientific findings to better comprehend the consequences of our actions. And just down the hill from OIST, along the shores of Onna Village, we saw how some companies are taking advantage of Okinawa’s tourist reputation to provide opportunities for ecotourism and education. Specifically, a local resident and dive shop owner took us for a boat tour where we were able to see first-hand some of the consequences we had just learned about in the classroom. [6]
Image credit: [7]
From our seats around a glass viewing window in the bottom of our boat, we observed plenty of bleached coral. Our tour guide explained that cycles of warmer water that cause bleaching events (e.g. El Niño) used to happen every 12 years or so; now it’s more like eight. In order to help support the reef, we continued along to a workshop where we assembled actual coral plugs that would subsequently be planted by divers in places where the reef had been damaged. Even body temperature is hot enough to burn coral, so we cooled off our hands in the water for several minutes before working with the little cuttings. After four years, these babies will have grown enough to spawn with each other, shooting eggs and sperm into the water, hopefully with another one doing the same close by in order to create a new organism. This coral restoration activity (which included the chance to write our names on our own coral plugs) was clearly set up for tourists, but it’s also an experience that will hopefully stick with many who do it far into the future.
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I don’t know how I thought I would fit everything I wanted to say about this journey to a new place with a rich history and a wealth of learning opportunities into a single blog post. As it is, I still have plenty left to cover about the amazing place that is Okinawa, so that remaining content on this “bridge between nations” will serve as a bridge between our experiences in the field and what insights I gained during our time there.
Tune in for more of that next week – and thank you for reading.
The Indo-Pacific Leadership Lab [8] is a program of the East-West Center, [9] with support from the Japan Foundation. [10]
As always, content on this blog reflects my personal views, and not those of any organization with which I am associated.
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryukyu_Kingdom
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okinawa_Prefecture
[4] https://youtu.be/taJ4MFCxiuo?si=celp4tJf7l7d2VcE&t=144
[6] https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/village-coral-moves-protect-its-namesake
[7] https://www3.nhk.or.jp/lnews/okinawa/20240911/5090029239.html
[8] https://www.eastwestcenter.org/projects/indo-pacific-leadership-lab
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