Richard J. Samuels

Five years ago Japan suffered what’s come to be called the Tohoku triple disaster in which a massive undersea earthquake set off a tsunami that led to a meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. An estimated 20,000 people died as a result of the earthquake and tsunami and although none died at the nuclear plant, the meltdown focused serious concerns about the safety of nuclear power in Japan. In the years since, Tokyo has tried to rebuild – though some say too slowly.

In a 2013 book, Richard J. Samuels, the Ford International Professor of Political Science and Director of the Center for International Studies at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), explored the disaster’s impact on government and society in Japan. The Diplomat spoke with Samuels recently for an update on the lasting impact (or lack of one) of the 3.11 catastrophe.

It’s now been five years since the Tohoku triple disaster of March 11, 2011 – a massive earthquake, a tsunami, and the nuclear meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. To what extent are these catastrophes still etched into the popular consciousness of Japan?

I would like to believe that these catastrophes will forever be etched into the popular consciousness of Japan. Indeed, I would like to imagine that the entire world will never forget how an unforgiving natural environment combined with human error to deliver one of the most colossal failures in living memory. But I am not sure that I do.

I end my book – 3.11: Disaster and Change in Japan – with a pair of observations, one from a civic activist who argued that 3.11 would provide the impetus for lasting change in Japan. He had in mind a new transparency in politics, a resurgence of flexibility in the economy, and other features that seemed to lag during the “lost decades” of the 1990s-2000s. The other observation, from a member of the Diet, seemed more cynical; it was certainly more pessimistic. He suggested that as catastrophic as it was, 3.11 may not have been big enough to stimulate major change. To date the record suggests he was correct.

How is reconstruction progressing in the Tohoku region? Have the central and local governments been successful in the monumental task of rebuilding destroyed homes, businesses, and lives?

By all accounts, reconstruction is proceeding too slowly. There are still tens of thousands of internally displaced residents. Many from Fukushima are elderly and will never return to their homes. Others, survivors of the tsunami, are returning, but to a confusing coast-scape. In some areas, sea walls are being built that will block the view of the sea for fishermen, and in others reconstruction has been so slow that temporary shelters designed to house people for just two years are being stretched beyond five years – something eerily reminiscent of the way that the decommissioning of Japan’s nuclear reactors was delayed.

The key metric, though, has been public trust. The data are mixed, but it seems clear that many Japanese citizens have lost confidence in their local officials, and many more have lost faith in their national ones.

With the indictments of three former TECPO executives over the meltdown at Fukushima – and the recent court-ordered shutdown of the Takahama Nuclear Power Plant – the impact of 3.11 on Japan’s nuclear industry is still unfolding. How has Japan’s national energy policy shifted in the wake of 3.11?

In the energy arena, the most significant change is that the nuclear regulators have grown teeth, something that was not yet apparent when I was finishing the book. They have raised the bar for restarts and, as in the case of the Takahama reactors just days before the fifth anniversary this year, they have vigilantly monitored the few restarted ones and have not hesitated to shut down those at the first sign of trouble.

Obviously the Japanese energy mix has had to shift in order to accommodate the loss of nuclear power. The biggest change has not come in the form of renewables, but with the importation of record volumes of natural gas. In July 2015 METI reported that renewables had accounted for 9.6 percent of electric power in 2010, and rose to 12.2 percent in 2014. The report projected fairly rapid increases going forward, but the largest increase in fuel mix share was in LNG, which rose from under 30 percent to more than 46 percent in the same period.

In your 2013 book, 3.11: Disaster and Change in Japan, you look at the impact the triple disaster had on Japan’s national security debate. How did this domestic disaster begin to shape national security discussions? Are we still seeing this impact in the security policies of Shinzo Abe?

I am not convinced that 3.11 had the impact on national security that many expected. It was a moment of great boldness by Japanese troops and of exceptional contribution by U.S. forces that did not go unnoticed. Public opinion embraced both the Self-Defense Forces and the Japan-U.S. alliance, each at record levels of support. It would seem natural that long awaited, difficult changes – such as resolution of the Futenma base issue, accelerated co-location of U.S. and Japanese forces, and acquisition of new capabilities such as enhanced lift and command and communications systems, could have been undertaken. Surveys of civilian airfields necessary for joint use might have been undertaken.

Instead, it seems to me that the changes that were made – and there have been many – were more directly the consequence of China’s rise and the shift in the regional balance of power than of the Tohoku catastrophe. It is hard to link the elimination of the arms export ban, the creation of the National Security Council, intelligence reform, new agreements with the Philippines and with India, or the new security laws to 3.11.

One of the questions you ask in your book is whether 3.11 will truly be an inflection point for Japan, or simply a footnote – “a punctuation mark or merely a historical parenthesis.” What’s your take now, five years after the triple disaster?

As I concluded in the book, I still believe that the master narrative for 3.11 has yet to be written. But the evidence to date suggests that, despite heroic and dedicated efforts by volunteers, most people have had no choice but to move on and face their own struggles. The catastrophe seems somehow isolated in its regional context.