Why Keep Promoting a Shinkansen (Bullet Train) That Nobody Expects to Be Built?

I recently watched a railway YouTuber discussing a proposed Shinkansen line for Shikoku. A representative from a local organization campaigning for the project was also there.

For readers outside Japan, Shikoku is one of the country’s four main islands, but it has a relatively small population and economy.

The YouTuber went through the current transport situation, the population, construction costs, and how much travel time the line would actually save. His conclusion was quite simple:

Shikoku does not need a Shinkansen.

This was not a heated debate between supporters and opponents. The YouTuber himself is passionate about railways. He simply laid out the data and explained his conclusion in a calm, matter-of-fact way.

Meanwhile, the representative sitting beside him gradually had less and less to say.

I could understand why.

You can talk endlessly about the dream of regional growth if a Shinkansen is built. But it is hard to respond when someone sets out the reality one fact at a time:

• This is the population.
• This is how much construction will cost.
• This is how little time the completed line will save.

Then comes the conclusion: “That is why I do not think it is necessary.”

Even as a viewer, I began to feel sorry for the representative.

But then another question occurred to me.

Do the people promoting the Shikoku Shinkansen genuinely believe it will ever be built?

We Want a Shinkansen. Now, About the Money…

The Shikoku Shinkansen concept dates back to the 1970s. It is an exceptionally long-lived project.

If a Shinkansen arrived at no cost, the local community would surely welcome it. New stations could bring more people, businesses, and tourists.

I would welcome a station in front of my house too.

The problem is that real Shinkansen lines are not free.

The mood would change considerably the moment someone said, “We understand that you need a Shinkansen. Now please pay the local share of the cost.”

There is a gulf wider than the strait separating Shikoku from Honshu between saying “Please build it” and saying “We will spend hundreds of billions of yen from our own budget to make it happen.”

That raises another question.

Is this campaign really about building a Shinkansen?

Only the Person Who Says “Let’s Stop” Loses

One reason the Shikoku Shinkansen proposal has survived for decades may be that hardly anyone benefits from ending it.

A politician who says “Bring the Shinkansen to Shikoku” appears committed to regional development. Business leaders can say they strongly support it. Local governments can keep submitting requests.

Nobody suffers.

But if one person says, “Isn’t it time to admit this is no longer feasible? Let’s abandon it,” that person alone becomes the one who gave up on Shikoku’s future.

So it is better not to say it.

Even if there is almost no chance of completion during your term in office, you can say, “We will continue working toward making it a reality,” and for the moment, nobody gets angry.

I see. That is a remarkably durable arrangement.

“Under Consideration” Is an Extremely Convenient Status

Come to think of it, Japan has quite a few projects like this.

Nobody has decided to cancel them, and nobody has decided to carry them out. They simply remain under consideration.

This is an extremely convenient state of affairs.

If you proceed and fail, you are responsible. If you cancel the project, you are responsible for that too. But if you say, “We will continue to consider it,” nothing has failed yet.

The following year, you can once again promise to “build momentum toward making it a reality.”

And if there is no scheduled completion date, the project can never miss its deadline.

In the IT industry, a project like this would be a dream.

It has not shipped in more than 40 years, yet somehow the project has never blown up.

As an engineer, I am beginning to feel a little envious.

The Scariest Outcome May Be That It Actually Gets Built

After thinking about it this way, I no longer feel that the campaign itself is necessarily a bad thing.

Under these rules, I would probably promote the project too if I were a local politician.

Say “We are abandoning it,” and people get angry. Say “We will build it,” and it still will not be built anytime soon. Meanwhile, you can point to your campaign as evidence that you are working for the region’s future.

It is rare to find a policy with so little risk.

In fact, the most troubling development for everyone involved might be for the national government to suddenly announce:

“All right. Let us actually build the Shikoku Shinkansen. Now, regarding the local share of the cost…”

After more than 40 years of demanding that the project become a reality, it would be rather difficult to admit:

“We never thought you would really build it.”