Tokyo Sky Tree at nearly 500 meters

(Photo by Tokyo Reporter, November 6, 2010)

Tokyo Sky Tree at nearly 500 meters

(Photo by Tokyo Reporter, November 6, 2010)

At the base of the steel structure, a signboard, complete with a stick-figure campaign character raising its fists in anger, announces that yakuza criminal gangs are prohibited from participating in the project, which is scheduled to be completed in 2012.

In November, 2008, members of construction companies formed a committee designed to exclude gangster groups. A similar arrangement was conceived for the new incarnation of the Kabuki-za theater in Ginza, Chuo Ward, whose historic building closed this year.

“We have formed alliances with construction companies that are designed to shut off yakuza involvement in these projects,” says Hiroichi Katayama, superintendent of the Organized Crime Elimination division within the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

Like organized crime in other countries, yakuza gangs have traditionally been tightly intertwined with Japan’s construction corporations, but the industry might now be seeing criminal organizations as something other than a necessary evil.

“In the past, gangster groups would use these kinds of projects as an opportunity to raise funds through land deals,” explains Katayama, referring to the Tokyo Sky Tree and Kabuki-za sites.

The superintendent is describing jiage, the practice of forcibly removing tenants from existing structures so the site can be cleared and the land sold for development. Other means of gangster involvement include the settlement of land disputes and the recruitment of labor.

“Construction companies require labor forces,” says Minoru Yokoyama, professor of law at Kokugakuin University and a vice chair for next year’s International Society of Criminology conference in Kobe. “Subcontractors on projects will often broker deals with mediators, which will be gangster groups.”

Yet the industry, wracked by a declining domestic market over the past two decades, may have had enough of dealing with so-called ninkyo dantai, or chivalrous organizations, as yakuza gangs anointed themselves around the end of World War II.

“From an economic point of view, the costs are more,” says Yokoyama. “Then, the money obtained by yakuza gangs from these projects is funneled through underground networks and winds up being used to purchase things like drugs, which are then sold for a profit.”

Anti-gangster signboard on Tokyo Sky Tree construction site

In 2008, Yokohama-based real estate company Suruga Corporation utilized a front company of the Yamaguchi-gumi, Japan’s largest gang, to — in true jiage fashion — evict occupants of a building in Tokyo’s Chiyoda Ward purchased three years before. Members of the front company were taken into custody. That same year, a 47-year-old upper-level boss of Japan’s second largest gang, the Sumiyoshi-kai, was arrested for attempting to extort cash from the seven-company joint venture that completed construction of the Gran Tokyo North Tower at Tokyo Station in 2007. The contractors for the tower had formed a similar alliance to that now ongoing with the Tokyo Sky Tree and Kabuki-za projects.

This year the resistance has been met with conflict. In April, three shots were fired into the house of the parents of an employee at energy contractor Saibu Gas in Fukuoka City. Soon after, five more rounds were fired at the entrance of a firm affiliated with the contractor. It was widely reported that the firm had not succumbed to payment demands from the Kyushu-based Kudo-kai syndicate regarding the construction of a liquefied natural gas platform in Kitakyushu.

In a bold move, a non-payment regulation was enacted in April in Fukuoka Prefecture, the first of its kind in Japan. Citizens and companies, according to the legislation, are now held liable for contributions made to gangster activities. Penalties include a fine of up to 500,000 yen or one year in jail.

The National Police Agency has indicated that cutting off funds to gangs is the best way to eliminate their influence. The Agency has said that it would like other municipalities to institute similar measures.

The elimination of such groups from construction jobs, however, will be challenging given the long legacy. Gangster ties with construction are widely considered to date back to the third generation boss of the Yamaguchi-gumi, which boasts an estimated membership of 40,000. Appointed in 1946, Kazuo Taoka began to control construction and dockside labor in the gang’s base of Kobe and initiated expansion nationwide as Japan rebuilt itself following the devastation of World War II.

“Right now gangster activities are stable,” says Yokoyama. “They maintain their traditional ways. It will be very difficult to eradicate all activities immediately. It takes time.”

Note: This article originally appeared in the September 26 issue of The Japan Times.

TOKYO (TR) – On one of Tokyo’s crisper mornings, ride the elevator up to the lounge on the 41st floor of the Shinjuku Park Tower building in Shinjuku and gaze in the direction of Mt. Fuji. The view will be of a nearly uninterrupted blanket of concrete and infrastructural morass that is likely unmatched anywhere in the world for its enormity and unsightliness. Blending to fill much of this scene are massive apartment buildings and smaller, block-like “mansions,” their bland concrete facades and uninspired designs resembling hospitals or penitentiaries.

Some architects, however, are in the process of adding small bits of color to this picture, both literally and figuratively. Small slivers of land that in days past may have been used for an industrial or commercial purpose are now the location of unique housing structures — a trend dubbed kyosho jutaku (micro living).

Watch the video (above) for a CBS news Sunday Morning program (May 23) that includes an interview with a Tokyo Reporter writer or read more about this topic here.

The bones, whose sex has yet to be determined, were found beneath a heating blanket on the first floor living room of the two-floor Ikuta Liquor Shop, both a store and residence located in Higashi Yama, a ten-minute walk from Nakameguro Station. By the mid afternoon, the street in front of the decrepit wooden structure had been cordoned off by police officers.

“An investigation is now underway to determine whether it is as a result of a crime or simply due to illness,” a police officer told The Tokyo Reporter at around 10:30 p.m. “In all likelihood it is not crime-related and not a major concern.”

A report filed by the Mainichi Shimbum indicated that the owner of the shop died 20 years ago. Subsequently various family members lived on the premises. In January, the former owner’s eldest died, leaving the property to a grandson, who had hired the team for the demolition work. It is suspected death occurred more than one year ago.

Saturday morning, a construction crew of roughly 6 men could be seen ripping apart shelving within the storefront, with bottles of liquor still lining the back wall.

The upscale Nakameguro area is known for its quaint shops and restaurants. (A.T.)

The owners of the Almond coffee shop at the bustling Roppongi crossing decided last year that it would close from January 3rd. The two-floor cafe’s easily identifiable throwback pink and white awning and long hours (9 a.m. to 5 a.m., everyday) made it a common point of congregation for the area’s nighttime revelers.

Almond representatives discussed the possibility of renovation with the building’s owners but it was concluded that a new structure would better meet current fire and earthquake standards. “The building had deteriorated and was susceptible to earthquakes,” said a spokesman for the Almond corporation, whose eleven shops specialize in reasonably priced cakes and coffees.

Opened in 1964, the shop is set to temporarily move around the corner until a new building can be constructed at the current location.

The extraction of value from real estate assets has been a trend in recent years in central Tokyo. Venerable structures in Shinjuku and Ginza have been scheduled for demolition with plans for mixed-use commercial properties set to rise in their place.

Development in Roppongi has been especially active. The 54-floor Roppongi Hills opened its doors in 2003. Four years later, Tokyo Midtown, which includes Tokyo’s tallest building, the 248-meter Midtown Tower, was completed.

“Of course, it is the end of an era,” added the spokesman. “‘Almond’ has become a symbol of the crossing. Our customers will probably be inconvenienced for one and a half to two years. But we would greatly appreciate their continued support and patronage.”

A notice announcing the closing and a New Year’s decoration now adorn the entry door to the shop.

In October, fans of kabuki and historic architecture were saddened by entertainment company Shochiku’s announcement that it plans to demolish the landmark Kabuki-za Theater. Reconstructed twice, the theater, in Chuo ward, has been Japan’s premier home for kabuki since it was founded in 1889.

The current five-decade-old building, which achieved tangible cultural property status in 2002, will close in 2010 and be rebuilt inside a large office-theater complex by 2013. “At present, the Kabuki-za is an aging structure that is susceptible to earthquakes,” explained an email statement from Shochiku concerning the timing of the decision. “As well, taking into consideration that its facilities are not barrier-free, we decided that it would be in the best interest of our customers for us to rebuild the theater.”

Not to be overlooked, too, is the extraction of value Shochiku will obtain from its existing real estate asset – yet one more example of rising land prices trumping cultural worth.

A February market report by brokerage house CLSA titled “Googling value: Uncovering Japan’s latent land assets” cited double-digit percentage increases in commercial land values in Tokyo’s Shibuya, Minato, and Chuo wards between 2006 and 2007. The report then noted: “This development casts a spotlight on some less-obvious beneficiaries whose main business is often not related to real estate but who nevertheless possess large and valuable landholdings.”

In a market now enduring the post-subprime meltdown, the picture is likely not quite as rosy but the suggestion remains: A sparkling, multi-use office building might serve as a better investment than an aging theater with poor structural integrity.

Similar projects are in the works. In Tokyo’s red-light district of Kabukicho, the Koma Stadium theater, a home to enka and musical performances since 1956, was this year acquired by film studio Toho, which also owns the neighboring Shinjuku Toho Kaikan. It is expected that Toho will develop both sites into one large complex following the closure of Koma this month.

Japan Post, privatized last year, announced that it will build a 200-meter building on the site of the Tokyo Central Post Office in Marunouchi, an area that has been overrun by new office towers in the past 5 years. Completed in 1931, the slightly curved, glazed-brick building has been selected as one of the 20 buildings that best represent modern architecture in Japan by the Paris-based conservation group Docomomo International. An architectural group has been pushing for its preservation or, at a minimum, that the building’s outer walls be incorporated into the new development.

But if recent history is any indication, the post office is on borrowed time. Publisher Kodansha’s Noma Dojo training facility, established in 1925, was knocked down late last year in favor of a more modern complex. The nearly eight-decade-old Dojunkai Aoyama Apartments were replaced in 2006 by Tadao Ando’s concrete and glass Omotesando Hills shopping center.

Posing a challenge to preservation groups is that should a structure achieve tangible cultural property status under the Law for the Protection of Cultural Property, Article 29 allows for the annulment of this designation by the government if the cultural value is lost or other “special reason.”

Experts see this trend towards demolition as not an aberration but the movement of the future. Martin van der Linden, president of Tokyo-based van der Architects, believes that architecture is becoming a commodity to be viewed by its return on investment. “Everything is economically driven,” he says. “If a building doesn’t perform, it’s gone. But it is not just Japan – it is occurring all around the world.”

Note: This article originally appeared in the December issue of Japan Inc. magazine.

The infamous TSK.CCC Terminal building formerly occupied the property until its demolition was complete in April — just one chapter in a bizarre case involving gangsters, property rights, and fraud whose roots can be traced back to Korean mobster Hisayuki Machii (“the Ginza Tiger”), who made his fortune in real estate and operated a ferry service between Japan and South Korea.

Machii headed the company Toa Sogo Kigyo (TSK), a front for the Tosei-kai yakuza gang, which dominated Tokyo’s glitzy Ginza district in the early 1960s. He opened the company’s “Celebrity Choice Club” (CCC) in Roppongi in 1973. The then lavish complex, which rose seven floors above ground and three below, boasted night clubs, a beauty salon, a spa, the headquarters of Toa Sogo Kigyo, and a rooftop garden and a tennis court — all just seconds from the bustling Roppongi crossing. A gala opening that summer featured appearances by entertainers, politicians, and sports stars, such as Yomiuri Giants legend Shigeo Nagashima — it was truly the Roppongi Hills of its day.

The trusted associate of the Korean-born Machii was Yoshio Kodama, the notorious political fixer, power broker, and Class-A war criminal. The boxy, maze-like TSK building was their Camelot.

Aerial shot of the TSK.CCC property

Upon Machii’s death in September 2002, at the age of 79, ownership of the structure, which had fallen into a state of disrepair, became unclear. “The property rights became extremely complicated,” says Yuzuru Goto, administrative director of the Roppongi Shopkeepers Promotion Association.

Creditors, who over the decades had found getting payments from mobsters highly challenging, seized the majority of the building. Complicating matters were building registration irregularities and multiple parties claiming ownership to other various bits of the structure. Another gang group wound up squatting on the premises.

For years, establishments operated in some areas while others remained chained shut. Most recently TSK housed the club Vanilla, the bar Tokyo Sports Cafe, and the hostess club Private Eyes. Roppongi denizens probably will recall its gaudy, Porsche-inspired shield emblem that hung outside.

Robert Whiting included Machii in his 2000 book “Tokyo Underworld,” a chronicle of organized crime in Japan in the years following World War II. After the book’s publication, Machii wrote to Whiting to voice his displeasure at being labeled a gangster when in fact Machii viewed himself as a patriot.

Construction placard during TSK demolition

But a new era was just beginning. With land prices in central Tokyo having risen substantially in recent years, the TSK plot has been seen as highly valuable with news reports referring to it as “sweet honey.” In July 2006, a real estate company today known as Toshi Urban Kaihatsu purchased the majority of the site for 25.2 billion yen at auction from the creditors.

The arrest last year of former intelligence chief Shigetake Ogata brought the TSK situation into the public’s view. He is presently on trial for conspiring to defraud Chongryon (pro-Pyongyang General Association of Korean Residents in Japan) out of 484 million yen while simultaneously attempting to purchase two (non-auction) condominium units within TSK. The purchase of the units fell through when an agreement on price could not be reached.

It was around this time that Japanese bloggers picked up on the story. Attempts were made to link characters appearing in photographs taken inside rooms of TSK to stabbings that took place between members of gang groups in Kyushu.

By August of last year, Toshi Urban Kaihatsu had bought up the remaining pieces of TSK, including the condominiums which Ogata attempted to purchase. Osaka-based contractor Daito started the demolition work soon after.

A television documentary last year reported Toshi Urban Kaihatsu as being a Chiyoda Ward-based limited liability company capitalized at 3 million yen, operating out of a one-room apartment, and receiving its funding offshore. Given these facts, the documentary implied that the company was a rather questionable candidate to be raising such large sums of money.

What will happen next is unclear. Toshi Urban Kaihatsu might like to resell the property as soon as possible to make a profit but observers are not sanguine about such a scenario transpiring.

The Roppongi association’s Goto hopes that a big developer, like Sumitomo or Mitsui, will purchase the land, but he believes that for now they will stay on the sidelines. “The rumor that yakuza money still ‘sleeps’ inside TSK will keep everyone away,” he says. “They know that the price will mysteriously rise once the negotiations start.”

Indeed, the tiger still roars from the grave.

Note: This article originally appeared in the September issue of Japan Inc. magazine.

TSK.CCC during demolition

(Photo by Tokyo Reporter, March 16, 2008)

TSK.CCC during demolition

(Photo by Tokyo Reporter, March 16, 2008)

TSK.CCC during demolition with Roppongi Hills at right

(Photo by Tokyo Reporter, March 16, 2008)

Runoff from the Tone River, which now forms a border between Chiba and Ibaragi prefectures, contributed to a marsh at the east edge of Edo Castle. With the arrival in 1603 of the Shogunate of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543-1616), who desired a steady flow of food and building products to arrive at the castle entrance, the areas to the south (today’s Ginza and Tsukiji) and further towards the Sumida River had to be developed. Along with establishing a series of wells and rerouting the Kanda River to flow through Edo instead of terminating in the Tama River, Ieyasu constructed a canal (the Dosan-bori) to link the doors of the castle to Nihonbashi, which was the location of the original Tokyo fish market.

A further network of waterways was constructed throughout the Edo Period (1603-1867). Transport by choki-bune (a small wood craft propelled by a pole pushing off a waterway’s bottom) then became the common means of getting from point to point, with bridges assisting in street transport. Today these bridges form the names of many intersections throughout Ginza.

Ginza is one of the few areas within the twisting streets of Tokyo which can be said to be laid out on a grid. Aerial photos of the area taken from a balloon one century ago are on display on the first floor of the Shiodome Media Tower in Shiodome. The images show how the roads, bridges, and canals then in existence intermingled. Showa-dori, which runs parallel to Chuo-dori to the south, didn’t exist. In its place are single- and double-story shacks. The Hattori (now Wako) clock tower at the 4-chome intersection, Hibiya Park, and the Kabukiza theater are the most easily recognizable landmarks.

One photo in the exhibit shows the confluence of the Sanjukken-bori canal at Shimbashi with the Shiodome River, whose upstream reaches extended towards Toranomon. Few Ginza shoppers strolling between Mitsukoshi department store toward Tsukiji today will notice the vertical hump and lateral bulge in both sides Harumi-dori halfway to the Kabuki-za. That raised pavement, which is now the home of an underground arcade housing three movie theaters, the adult goods store Aladdin, and a few greasy restaurants, was where the Mihara-bashi bridge spanned over the Sanjukken-bori at its midpoint.

Between 1948 and 1953, Sanjukken-bori was covered in concrete. Today its grounds are occupied by a quiet street of convenience stores, offices, and art spaces. One of the few reminders remaining is a small plaque posted next to a public toilet, frequented by taxi drivers, at the east end of the Ginza Nine shopping center.

Perhaps the grandest stretch of waterway was the Soto-bori, which gently curved from what is today the Sukiyabashi intersection, fronted by the Sony Building, on northward past the Printemps shopping complex to JR Yurakucho Station. Photos of the canal from as early as 1927 can be seen, though encrusted with smudges of black soot, along a concrete railing just outside the south exit of Yurakucho Station. A photo from 1928 shows a small boat working its way beneath the concrete bridge. Two men in sailor uniforms, likely part of the Occupation, can be seen crossing from one side to the other two decades later. The curved Nichigeki Theater, the site of nationalist rallies in the early ’40s, is visible at the water’s edge in 1953. By 1961, the area is shown in its presently developed state, with the aboveground Tokyo Expressway freeway handling traffic nearby.

Note: This article originally appeared in April 2007 on the Sake-Drenched Postcards Web page.

But this intersection in Toranomon is special in a particular way: no column, scaffold, concrete mixer, or other standard evidence of work ever shows itself from behind the construction site’s enclosure. The reason can be found below – way below – ground level.

Stepping past the barrier and descending a narrow spiral staircase to a temporary platform reveals Tokyo’s literal underworld. It is a stunning 20-meter diameter concrete cylinder extending down for 40 meters. Light green hues reflecting off the smooth concrete from mounted lights fill the scene as workers move in and out of a temporary trailer and up and down the single steel-cage elevator.

The project, titled the Azabu-Hibiya Common Utility Duct is a public works venture under the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport that collects various utility lines into a single trunk tunnel. Not only are Tokyo¹s endless streams of overhead wires slowly being reduced as a part of an effort to decrease earthquake susceptibility, the stunning scene makes for a unique tourist attraction.

A report provided by the Tokyo National Highway Office said that after the 7.3-Richter magnitude Kobe earthquake in 1995, which killed more than 6,000 people, similar ducts tended to move along with earth pressures and suffered little damage.

The existence of a single underground “lifeline” during these times, the Ministry says, will increase the chances that vital services will continue to be supplied at the time of the disaster. By contrast the Kobe quake resulted in utility services going down. As well, emergency vehicles being restricted access to troubled areas by downed and entangled utility lines.

The Japanese Cabinet office’s Central Disaster Management Council issued a report in December 2004 indicating that a major earthquake in Tokyo could result in 13,000 deaths and the destruction of 850,000 buildings.

A 2004 study by the Earthquake Research Committee indicated that there is a 70 percent chance that Tokyo will be hit by a major tremor within the next 30 years. The Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 was the last large quake to strike Tokyo. About 140,000 people died amid falling buildings and subsequent fires.

Over 100 kilometers of roadway in Tokyo have been given similar treatment. Under Route 246, a completed duct that stretches from Aoyama to Akasaka has been in operation for 20 years. Plans are set for an additional 1,000 kilometers throughout the metropolis.

Public works projects are typically shrouded in secrecy, but this project is different, say those affiliated with the project.

“A lot of Japanese citizens have this idea that public works projects are not for the public,” says Kiyotaka Yamana, who under the Tokyo Geo-Site Project promotional moniker arranges public tours and encourages general awareness. “They (public works projects) are notorious for having negative images attached to them. I am trying to let the public know why they exist and what they are being used for.”

By presenting these concrete works as fully open tourist attractions, Yamana can show the public that taxpayer money is not literally being flushed down the drain.

During the two-hour tours, held a few times each year, visitors strap on protective helmets and walk through a section of a completed segment. The experience is similar to entering a science fiction movie set; machines clank and hum as visitors proceed down illuminated concrete arteries that appear to continue forever.

Colorful displays and placards along the path tell the story of how the work has been performed. A handful of the workers are on hand to answer questions.

Yamana is always looking for “friendly” events to attract visitors. Traditional Japanese theater performances have been staged on a makeshift stage atop the bottom of the shaft. As well, votive lights have been strewn along the tunnel floors to create candlelit walks. Included among the visitors to this subterranean world have been television crews and film-makers.

With the public associating public works with past financial busts like the Aqualine toll expressway – one of many recent examples of bureaucrats citing inflated demand projections to justify large project budgets – Yamana is trying to develop a sense of openness to a practice that has typically been very opaque.

“Once people have a chance to visit, a lot are amazed with what is inside, the size of the space, the machines that are used, and the people who are doing the work,” Yamana explains.

Toranomon is the “launching shaft.” The cylinder is a hub in which lateral utility tunnels emerge at its bottom in the directions of Azabu and Sakuradamon.

Theses tunnels are concrete-lined by rings of reinforced concrete blocks, slightly curved to fit into place around the walls. A large slurry tunneling machine, with rows of teeth affixed to a rotating shield, bores its way laterally through the generally sandy soil at a diameter that ranges from five to seven meters.

The reinforced concrete blocks (about the size of the tops of office desks) are pushed into place by jacks attached to the back of the machine to form one ring of the lining. Subsequent rings are added as the work, which follows the centerline of the road above, continues laterally from the hub. . Two hours is required to install a single ring.

A scaffold is then mounted slightly above the bottom of the tunnels. In addition to providing a floor on which workers can move, a center rail allows a train, named “Pikachu,” to haul the blocks and various bits of needed construction equipment as the work progresses along the line.

The utility lines – such as gas, telephone, water, electric, and cable – are designated by a specific color, are affixed along the walls.

As the name implies, the project extends from the Tokyo districts of Azabu to Hibiya. Toranomon is roughly in the center. Construction, which began in 1989, was recently completed for the 2.8-kilometer segment between Azabu and Toranonon. The additional 1.5 kilometers for the Hibiya segment is expected to be completed by 2010. The project’s budget is 42 billion yen, which corresponds to roughly 10 billion yen per kilometer of road.

The number of workers required is minimal. Only four are needed to operate the boring machine, while the site might include 25 in total at any given time.

Work was delayed at Hibiya for a short period in 2001 when a pile driven below the surface for the construction of a retaining wall discovered 240 stones from the Hibiya Gate of Edo Castle.

Digging for the Hibiya segment started last year. The work has extended a little more than 800 meters, nearly reaching the moat of the Imperial Palace. This distance contains a slightly uphill slope to a depth 30 meters below the surface. For reference, the Yurakucho subway line crosses nearby at about 15 meters below the surface. In later stages, the work will take a ninety-degree turn at the moat and continue another 580 meters to Hibiya.

Other benefits of the project include: the disappearance of overhanging lines makes the metropolis more pleasing to the eye; utility line longevity is increased by the lack of exposure to natural elements; and the reduction in costly excavation eases maintenance and increases pedestrian and vehicle flow.

“In central Tokyo, a lot of road construction is taking place, causing traffic jams,” Yamana says. “Here, a common utility tunnel is being placed under major areas so that if one cable is cut off or some other problem happens, a workman can go underneath and do the repair work without having to dig a trench.”

In neighboring Saitama prefecture, Yamana likewise promotes the Metropolitan Area Outer Discharge Channel under the G-Cans Project title. This project, however, differs slightly in scope from its Tokyo public works brother.

This 6.3-kilometer network is a series of inlets, pumps, and massive underground concrete channels that funnels rainfall runoff into the Edogawa River before it empties into the Pacific Ocean.

For this project, Yamana has expectations that reach beyond mere tours and theater shows; he wants to show the world the appeal of Japan’s concrete spectacle.

Spectacular pictures of large support columns and meandering channels contained on the G-Cans Project Web site have caught the attention of Life magazine and ABC News (Australia). Yamana hopes Hollywood comes calling next.

“My dream,” he says, “is for the next ‘Die Hard’ movie to have Bruce Willis jogging through one of the concrete channels.”

Sweet concrete dreams…

Note: This article originally appeared in January 2005 on the Sake-Drenched Postcards Web page.

In 2005, Aneha was found to have falsified the earthquake-resistance data in the designs of multiple hotels and condominiums in an effort to reduce construction costs. The resulting scandal caused the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Tourism in June to modify the approval process for the procurement of a building permit, a move which has stalled the world’s second-biggest economy.

The stricter regulations within the Building Standards Law now require a clear designation of the responsible architect and a peer review of the submitted documents, both of which have extended the approval period from the typical 21 days to 70. What’s more, sellers of condominiums now must have enough funds in reserve to accommodate 10 years’ worth of potentially defective products.

“The new regulations are making the process more complicated and time-consuming,” says Yusuke Shirai, a structural engineer at Arup Japan, a building-industry consulting firm. “There are delays in construction schedules and frustration on the part of our contractors and architects.”

At a press luncheon in November, Tetsuzo Fuyushiba, the Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism Minister, said that it is essential for building standards to ensure that buildings are structurally sound. “We realized the process was not detailed enough,” he said, referring to the scandal surrounding Aneha, who is now appealing a verdict that levied a fine of ¥1.8 million and a five-year prison sentence. “We had to do something about the Building Standards Law and the way it is implemented.”

Year-on-year housing starts declined 44 percent in September and 35 percent in October. The government announced that the housing slump was a cause in the downward revision of its first quarter growth forecast to 1.3 percent from a previous estimate of 2.1 percent.

The housing problem is merely the latest black mark to fall upon Japan’s construction industry over the past few months. In September, a 100-meter span of the $343 million Can Tho cable-stayed bridge under construction southwest of Ho Chi Minh City by Japanese companies Taisei, Kajima, and Nippon Steel collapsed and killed nearly 60 Vietnamese workers. Initial reports suggested that negligence on the part of the consortium is to blame. In December, Kajima was found to have concealed ¥600 million in a slush fund over the 2004 and 2005 fiscal years.

Fuyushiba, however, is confident that the housing decline is only temporary, and maintained that demand is not dropping. “Due to the unfamiliarity of the new process, things just did not move smoothly,” he said. “Therefore, the numbers seemed to have dropped. They should get back on track soon.” This claim was borne out by the December housing figure, which showed a year-on-year drop of only 19 percent.

Fuyushiba does not see the stricter measures as an overreaction. “When there are incidents of wrongdoing, we have to deal with them accordingly,” he said. “If only a handful of people are falsifying data, the amount of harm they can do to many people is tremendous. They have to therefore be dealt with.”