As Japan’s population shrinks and more properties go unclaimed, an emerging segment of buyers, feeling less tethered to cities, is seeking out rural architecture. The most recent government data, from the 2018 Housing and Land survey, reported about 8.5 million akiya (one of the millions of vacant houses known as akiya,) houses across the country — roughly 14 percent of the country’s overall housing stock — but observers say there are many more today. The Nomura Research Institute puts the number at more than 11 million, and predicts that akiya could exceed 30 percent of all houses in Japan by 2033.
Because the value of a house in Japan typically decreases over time until it is worthless, with only the land retaining value, many buyers seek to demolish a neglected house and start again. But that process can be prohibitively expensive. Others aim to preserve what’s there.
“In rural areas, there is a long history of ancestral owners of akiya living in the houses and on the land,” said Kazunobu Tsutsui, a professor of rural geography and economics at Tottori University who lives in a renovated akiya built more than a century ago.
“Therefore, even after moving to the city, families will not give up their akiya easily. In rural areas, there is a long history of ancestral owners of akiya living in the houses and on the land,” said Kazunobu Tsutsui, a professor of rural geography and economics at Tottori University who lives in a renovated akiya built more than a century ago. “Therefore, even after moving to the city, families will not give up their akiya easily.
Poorly maintained akiya can mar the scenery as well as endanger residents’ lives and property if they collapse,” said Kazuhiro Nagao, a city official in Sakata, along the west coast, where heavy snowfall can damage unattended structures. “We’re partly subsidizing demolitions, collecting neighborhood association reports on akiya, and trying to make owners aware of the problem by holding briefings.”
Though the akiya problem has not had a direct impact on sales in overcrowded urban markets, where high-rises continue to go up, the potential hazards to communities posed by empty houses are growing along with their numbers, according to Akira Daido, chief consultant at the Nomura Research Institute’s Consulting Division. Daido pointed to a recent legal revision that allows local authorities to effectively raise the property taxes on neglected houses if the owners ignore municipal requests to maintain or demolish them. In another sign of rising concern, the government has approved a plan by the city of Kyoto, where inventory is tight yet some 15,000 houses sit empty, to tax the owners of those empty homes — a first in Japan.
Akiya are increasingly seen not just as a threat to suburban and rural markets, but to the emotional health of the country, sparking family disputes over inherited properties. That, in turn, has led to a cottage industry of akiya consultants like Takamitsu Wada, the chief executive of Akiya Katsuyo, who acts as a counselor for squabbling relatives, often urging them to act before their properties become a lost cause.
Municipalities across Japan are also compiling listings of vacant houses for sale or rent. Known as “akiya banks,” they are often bare-bones web pages with a few underwhelming photos. Some have partnered with private-sector companies like At Home, which currently lists akiya in 658 of Japan’s 1,741 municipalities. The fact that property in the Japanese countryside is by and large undervalued and there are viable properties that are almost turnkey has finally dawned on these people.