This essay critically examines the position taken by then Shizuoka Governor Heita Kawakatsu toward construction of the Linear Chuo Shinkansen’s Southern Alps tunnel, focusing on the Oigawa water-resource dispute, delays to a major national infrastructure project, and the wider technological competition between Japan and China.

August 10, 2020
The Linear Chuo Shinkansen is not merely a railway project undertaken by a single private company.
It is a project of national significance designed to commercialize Japan’s accumulated superconducting maglev technology and transform transportation among the country’s three major metropolitan regions—Tokyo, Nagoya, and Osaka.
Regarding the Shizuoka section of the Southern Alps tunnel, then Shizuoka Governor Heita Kawakatsu continued to take an extremely cautious position toward JR Central, citing possible effects on the Oigawa River’s water resources and the natural environment of the Southern Alps.
Beginning in April 2020, the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism established an expert panel to examine the discussions between Shizuoka Prefecture and JR Central from scientific and engineering perspectives.
I am therefore not arguing that no legitimate water-resource issue existed.
What I questioned strongly was the way the issue was being handled and whether it justified a prolonged delay to a project of such national importance.
At the time, it appeared to me that Governor Kawakatsu was placing environmental concerns at the forefront to an excessive degree and was persistently preventing the Linear Chuo Shinkansen project from advancing.
Concerns were repeatedly expressed about possible reductions in water resources, while scientific and engineering discussions were also underway concerning measures that might prevent or mitigate those effects.
Such scientific examination was obviously necessary.
But the very words “environmental protection” must not become an absolute formula capable of halting a nationally important project indefinitely.
At the time, I encountered information concerning Governor Kawakatsu’s longstanding interest in exchanges with China.
I also considered the fact that China was rapidly developing its own high-speed and magnetic-levitation railway technologies and seeking to narrow Japan’s technological lead.
This led me to a serious question.
The longer completion of Japan’s Linear Chuo Shinkansen was delayed, the more time China would gain in the international competition over advanced railway technologies.
Would Japan complete commercialization while it still possessed a substantial technological advantage?
Or would competing countries use the intervening years to narrow that gap?
From that perspective, I did not regard the issue as merely a dispute over water resources within Shizuoka Prefecture.
It was also a question involving Japan’s technological capabilities and international competitiveness.
In my original article, I went even further, speculating that the delay might reflect instructions from China or that Governor Kawakatsu might somehow be under Chinese pressure.
I make clear here that these were my suspicions and inferences as of August 10, 2020.
I did not present documentary evidence establishing them as facts.
Nevertheless, when a political decision has major consequences for the national interest, it is legitimate to ask who benefits from the consequences of that decision.
What troubled me was that Governor Kawakatsu’s position on the Linear project was rarely discussed from the wider perspective of technological competition between Japan and China.
I was also highly critical of what I saw as the use of the language of “good sense” and “environmental protection” while a project of enormous importance to Japan was being obstructed.
Protecting the environment is not the same thing as stopping technological development.
Protecting water resources is not the same thing as postponing indefinitely construction of a transportation artery that may shape Japan’s future.
The proper course is to identify risks scientifically, establish effective countermeasures, and then proceed.
I also addressed a question to the people of Shizuoka Prefecture.
Shizuoka occupies an important place in Japanese history.
Tokugawa Ieyasu loved Sumpu, established his castle there, and spent his later years there.
He was one of the historical figures who brought an end to a long age of warfare and helped establish the political foundations for an extended period of stability in Japan.
What role, then, should Shizuoka play in a national project intended to support Japan in the twenty-first century?
Should this really be regarded solely as a local matter for Shizuoka Prefecture?
Or should it be judged from the standpoint of Japan as a whole—its future, industry, transportation, technology, national security, and international competitiveness?
That was the core of the criticism I expressed on August 10, 2020.
What does Japan lose when completion of the Linear Chuo Shinkansen is delayed?
And which countries gain from that delay?
Those are questions that should never be ignored when political decisions affect a project of national importance.