“Maybe We Do Need That Shinkansen Station After All”—JR Gets Dragged Through a Politician's Pivot

I came across an interesting article.

The story takes place in Shiga Prefecture. There was once a plan to build a new Tokaido Shinkansen station in the city of Ritto.

The local governments lobbied JR Central, and after years of discussions, the station was approved. Construction even began in 2006.

Then a new governor arrived.

“What a waste.”

A candidate who campaigned on freezing the new station project won the gubernatorial election, and the plan was canceled the following year, in 2007.

The public had expressed its will through an election, so the change in policy was itself a result of democracy.

The problem was what happened next.

When a Politician Says, “Maybe We Do Need It After All”

After the new station plan disappeared, the Chuo Shinkansen maglev project began to look increasingly likely to become a reality.

The very governor who had brought the station project to a halt then began mentioning that a new station might be necessary in the future.

Even the local government of Ritto was taken aback. In 2012, the mayor criticized the governor, saying the remark had come out of nowhere, without sufficient prior consultation or examination.

Of course he did.

After all the debate, the construction plan had finally been stopped. If the same people then say, “Maybe we need the station after all,” what are those involved supposed to believe?

Apparently, decisions of the past can be overwritten quite easily in a politician’s mind.

A Startup Can Call It a “Pivot”

The IT industry has a useful word: “pivot.”

When market conditions change, a company abandons its previous business strategy and changes direction.

Even after retracting yesterday’s strategy, the move may be praised as “flexible management.”

But when a politician does the same thing, it is a different story.

Government projects involve contracts with private companies, promises to local authorities, and people and money that have already been set in motion.

The election of a new governor does not wipe out the investments and preparations made by the companies on the other side.

What a politician calls a “policy review” may mean that “years of negotiations have all gone to waste” for a company.

Moreover, a politician’s term ends after a few years.

If something goes wrong, the politician can leave office and hand the problem to the next person.

The company, meanwhile, must continue doing business for decades afterward.

A politician’s term may last four years, but the other company’s memory does not disappear after four years.

Politicians Lose Elections; Companies Lose Trust

The important question in this case is not whether the new station should have been built.

If the construction cost was too high, canceling it may well have been the right decision.

But anyone who overturns an agreed decision must also accept the loss of trust that follows.

In this case, at least the other party was a huge company like JR Central.

But what if it had been a small or medium-sized business?

The company trusted the government’s request and invested in equipment. It hired people. Then, as soon as a new governor was elected, the project was canceled.

A few years later, the government asks for its cooperation again.

Any ordinary business owner would probably want nothing more to do with it.

Politicians, however, can explain a policy reversal as “the will of the people,” a renewed review as “a flexible response,” and a failure as “a change in the times.”

What a convenient profession.

When a startup pivots, its management bears the risk.

When a politician pivots, the risk can be passed on to someone else.

It makes you want to say, “This is exactly why politicians are no good.”

They stop a project for their own reasons, then assume they can simply ask for help again when circumstances change.

That way of thinking lacks any sense of what it takes to maintain trust over the long term.

What would be called a pivot at a startup is merely political flip-flopping when a politician does it. And the bill for failure always lands on somebody else’s desk.