In my extensive readings about Tokyo, no quote has resonated more with the feeling I get upon arrival in the Japanese capital than Hara Kenya's observations in his 2019 think piece, 'Designing Japan: A Future Built on Aesthetics’.

Hara is one of Japan's most influential graphic designers, best known internationally as the art director of MUJI, the renowned Japanese lifestyle brand. He is also a wordsmith, able to articulate concepts in a way that mirrors the precision of his graphic designs. Hara possesses an uncanny ability to position each element in even the most minimal layout just where it should be.

Long admiring Hara's work in both written form and the design studio, I found it encouraging that his impressions of Tokyo closely aligned with mine. Maggie Kinser Hohle’s impeccable English translation further enhances his insights. 

Whenever I get off a flight at Narita airport and pass through that impersonal space, walking toward passport control, I have the same feeling. While it is boring and lifeless, I can't help but admire how scrupulously clean and well kept it is. All the floor tiles gleam; it makes you think that you could roll on them without even dirtying your clothes. The carpet is immaculate too. You see traces of the best efforts to remove even minor stains. I am certain that the cleaners who work here never put away their mops and vacuums the minute their shift ends; they continue until they complete the task. Returning from another country I'm always keenly aware of their attentiveness, their consideration.

Moments after disembarking and observing something as mundane as the traces of cleaning agents on the carpet, Hara crafts a vivid portrayal of the culture and work ethic that shape Japan’s global image. While Japan's respectfulness and cleanliness are now well-acknowledged, Hara's insight illuminates the human effort involved in upholding this reputation.

Hara continues:

Even as I leave the airport in a car on the expressway, this feeling endures. I take no pleasure in the denatured scenery, but the road surface is as smooth as a mirror, the car's engine is quiet, and not a single street light illuminating the route is burnt out. 

In recent years, my trips to Japan have invariably taken me to Haneda airport, followed by a taxi journey towards the city centre. Peering out the window of the spotlessly maintained Toyota JPN taxi, as the waterfront's urban fabric unfolds, the tension of my 18-hour transit dissolves. It's in these moments that an inner quiet I only truly feel in Japan begins to settle in. The comparatively harsh daily life of London, where I reside, now seems distant.

I become aware of the subtly different scent of humidity in the air and gradually attune to the Japanese language emanating from the in-car entertainment system. The smooth ride, free from any jolts, subtly facilitates this transition.

This impression soon merges into the nightscape of the city centre, its intricacy and complexity stimulating my senses. Each of the innumerable lights shines steadily and reliably; not one flickers or is out. Combined, they become high-rises extending into the distance as an immense accumulation of light. 

This sensation isn’t limited to car travel on the expressway. Urbanists, whose job is to study and plan towns and cities, often cite the maxim: a developed country is not a place where the poor have cars—it's where the rich use public transportation. Indeed, in Tokyo, whether you choose the Narita Express train, the Tokyo Monorail, or the Airport Limousine bus, the journey from the airport to the city centre is equally seamless.

My first visit in 2009 brought me to Narita Airport by night, where I boarded the NEX to Shinjuku station. This 80-minute journey transitions from Chiba Prefecture's pastoral landscapes to the iridescent neon heart of the city. The emerging view of Shinjuku, with fleeting glimpses into yokocho alleyways cutting through high-rises, was a scene that compelled me to unravel its 'why' and 'how’.

Hara moves from initial impressions to a broader exploration of Tokyo's nightscape:

The nightscape of contemporary Tokyo may be the most beautiful in the world. Some might object, saying that Tokyo is no match for the view at night of Mumbai or Hong Kong seen from Victoria Peak. People will inevitably have their own preferences; those who agree with mine are surprisingly few. Yet just when I was beginning to doubt myself, I happened to see a TV documentary about cities that quoted international airline pilots as agreeing that right now, the most beautiful nightscape in the world is Tokyo's. These experts should know. Naturally I approved.   

Tokyo’s unparalleled nightscape did not come from a singular master plan or vision. It is the result of an adaptive, collaborative, and organic process spanning over four centuries. Tokyo embodies a blend of spontaneity and structured planning, a synthesis of each building, station, shopping street, and neighbourhood association. It's the manifestation of every steadily shining light in every alleyway and avenue, a testament to the dedication of every individual who worked beyond their assigned hours. This newsletter is devoted to exploring each of these facets in depth.

Hara concludes:

Though the world is vast, there is no other city with Tokyo's expansive reach—the sheer scale at which all those lights are concentrated.

The scale of the city is immense, yet what captivates me is the precision with which it is managed, or more aptly, how it self-manages. How can urban sprawl yield a sense of peace in my heart? Much like Hara Kenya's innate ability to place design elements, the details in Tokyo's apparent chaos are often carefully orchestrated. 

Whether it's the strategic positioning of a red lantern outside a tiny izakaya or the reclamation of a town’s worth of land from the sea, attention to detail underpins the seemingly sprawling canvas of Tokyo. Combined with its walkability and an unparalleled sense of personal safety, found nowhere else in the world, it becomes clear why any city enthusiast, and indeed most visitors in general, find themselves enamoured with this metropolis.

Tokyo, however, is at a pivotal moment in its history. Relentless evolution, particularly since the post-war era, has always been part of the city, but today's changes provoke critical reflections on urban development. The spread of glass-fronted skyscrapers, driven largely by corporate interests, has encountered minimal resistance. This trend, if unchecked, threatens to give rise to more 'new urban centres' like Shiodome — a district marked by pedestrian-unfriendly planning and an absence of character.  

With each successive alteration, especially in neighbourhood areas, it prompts the question: How much more of this type of change can Tokyo endure before its essence is irrevocably transformed?

In a significant rise, Tokyo secured fourth place in the Euromonitor Top 100 City Destinations for 2023, a first-time entry into the top ten. While such accolades can cement a city's global reputation, they often perpetuate existing tourism patterns. The year 2024 will be another intense period for travel to Japan. 

The 2020 Olympics catalysed substantial upgrades in tourism infrastructure and while the lifting of COVID-19 restrictions was initially met with optimism, this rebound has swiftly given way to apprehensions about over-tourism. Concurrently, the yen's sustained weaker position and the culmination of years of governmental promotion of Japan as a travel destination are converging to create a significant surge in tourism.

Social media's finger-scrolling pursuit of travel content has intensified pressure on the Tokyo–Mount Fuji–Kyoto–Osaka Golden Route, funnelling attention disproportionately towards a finite, well-trodden collection of sites. My visit to Kyoto last autumn left me concerned for the centuries-old wooden structure of Kiyomizu-dera, strained under the weight of countless visitors seeking the quintessential travel photograph. 

Conversely, I feel a sense of excitement for the smaller number of people who will experience Tokyo as I did in 2009, captivated by its understated intricacies and driven to explore its hidden dimensions. Some may even be inspired to incorporate elements of the city’s distinct appeal into their own urban environments.

Japan’s ageing population casts a shadow over these developments. What will transpire when the generation that moulded and sustains contemporary Japan through their steadfast work ethic eventually steps aside? Furthermore, how does Tokyo's magnetism, which inadvertently leads to the depopulation of rural areas, fit into this equation? As much as we are captivated by Tokyo, a shift in focus towards decentralisation might be prudent, aiming to revitalise the regions beyond the capital.

The seismic risk in Tokyo remains a constant concern. The frequently cited statistic – a 70 percent likelihood of a major earthquake within the next 30 years – poses a formidable challenge. This is compounded by the dearth of English language resources on this threat, a worrying fact considering the large number of tourists and the increasing reliance on foreign workers, both groups often unfamiliar with disaster preparedness. Though the growth in online earthquake awareness content following the 2024 Noto earthquake represents progress, there is a clear need for more comprehensive measures in this area.

Amidst these complexities, the nightscape of Tokyo maintains its steady glow, and the floor tiles of Narita airport continue to gleam. Over fifteen years, my journey with Tokyo has only solidified my conviction that it is the world’s greatest city. Now, the moment has arrived to share these reflections, aiming to create a discourse that delivers depth and insight without the heaviness of academic prose or the lightness of typical travel content.

Our endeavour here strays from the usual path, designed for individuals with an unconventional sensibility. This article itself is a veritable easter egg on the internet. If you’re reading this, it's a pleasure to know you've found us. I'm keenly looking forward to creating a newsletter that, I hope, aligns with your tastes and interests and satisfies your curiosity about the city – as though it were tailor-made just for you.

Until we meet in Tokyo,

AJ

Links

Designing Japan: A Future Built on Aesthetics