[Feature: Post-COVID-19 TOKYO Theory] Roundtable: Living in Tomorrow's Tokyo After the COVID-19 Pandemic

Today, after more than two years of the COVID-19 pandemic, I would like to discuss the future of Tokyo in the post-pandemic era with experts from various fields.

While remote work expanded during the pandemic, there are actually 16 redevelopment projects currently underway in central Tokyo, specifically on the east side of Tokyo Station around Nihonbashi and Kyobashi. This includes Mitsubishi Estate's TOKYO TORCH, and approximately 3 million square meters of floor space is scheduled to be completed over the next 15 years. Even if only 50% of that 3 million square meters is office space, at an average of 10 square meters per person, it is enough space for about 150,000 people to work. Since the daytime population in that area is currently around 300,000, we are essentially building floor space for half that population right now. To be honest, I wonder if this is healthy when considering the future of Tokyo.

Last year, I took a sabbatical and visited several cities in the US and Europe in the fall. Western cities aren't doing much development. Even when they do, it's mostly residential towers. It feels like they are hardly building office buildings anymore.

When looking at Tokyo through the lens of development, we must consider what kind of value these new developments can bring to Tokyo in the future. I have a concern about whether the real estate business can continue to rely on offices moving forward.

Thinking more broadly, over the past two years, we faced an unexpected pandemic and were told, "Don't go out, don't meet people, stay home." This was something unimaginable until then.

Cities are formed by people gathering, and culture is born from that gathering. That is the charm, strength, and vitality of a city. When people gather, information and money gather there too—that is what a city is. However, being told "not to gather" significantly negates the fundamental value and meaning of a city. Therefore, I feel we must ask if it is okay to continue thinking about cities and Tokyo using conventional urban perspectives.

Why will we want to be in cities from now on? Perhaps we have realized that people don't actually need to gather in cities that much anymore. If that's the case, I want to properly consider the meaning of coming to Tokyo and how we spend our time here.

Also, we have learned that people can connect via the internet. While I believe we cannot live without being online from now on, I also feel that the value of the physical city will increase significantly, based on the premise of connecting digitally and virtually.

Office buildings for commuting and working are being re-evaluated right now. If the appeal of a city shifts from just working to living and enjoying the city as the daytime population decreases, then the charm of the city may move toward the aspect of "living in the city."

On the other hand, due to the impact of COVID-19, Tokyo's population decreased in 2021. While we thought people were only increasing in Tokyo, people are actually flowing out of Tokyo as well.

There is also the perspective of how to position Tokyo globally. How should we think about Tokyo in comparison with other cities, especially growing Asian cities and mature European cities?

The architect Fumihiko Maki has described Tokyo as a "calm city." I believe this means that it is safe compared to other cities and that one can spend time peacefully. Although it's not very flashy, I think that is a very high value.

I would like everyone to speak from the perspective of your own specialized fields. Mr. Tanaka, what are your thoughts on the future of Tokyo?

I will speak from a sociological perspective. The fact that central city redevelopment is still progressing on such a large scale, as Mr. Kobayashi mentioned, is very interesting.

To start with the big picture, the situation known as the extreme concentration in Tokyo has been progressing since the late 1990s. During the high-growth period, urban expansion and suburbanization progressed, but since the end of the 20th century, it is said that a return to the city center and re-urbanization have been occurring. As the economy stagnates to some extent and the population decreases, there is a trend where city centers are redeveloped and re-urbanized.

I don't know what will happen after COVID-19 regarding this shift from the spatial expansion of suburbanization to the point-like concentration of re-urbanization. However, while the population inflow has indeed slowed down slightly, people are basically moving within the Tokyo metropolitan area. In other words, people who were in the city center are moving to the periphery, progressing in the form of intra-urban dispersion. In such a case, I wonder what will happen to the internal urban redevelopment based on the re-urbanization trend that has progressed so far.

On the other hand, regarding the "calm Japanese city," Tokyo is very much a "railway city" dependent on trains. I have studied the social history of commuting from a sociological perspective, and I am paying attention to the fact that train congestion rates, which had begun to drop below 200% in the 1980s and 90s, plummeted due to COVID-19 to around 100%. If this continues, I think the Tokyo lifestyle, which was predicated on quietly enduring crowded trains with good manners, might change slightly.

Related to that, I am also interested in the fact that Japanese people are maintaining the choice not to remove their masks. I think that is perhaps a characteristic of communication in Japanese cities.

Certainly, Tokyo has been very successful in urban development centered on railways. I thought the railway business had never failed until JR went into the red due to COVID-19, which was a shock. After building all that infrastructure, it's a problem if people don't ride.

That's true; maintenance costs are quite high. Since becoming JR, the pillars of profit have shifted more toward real estate development and shopping centers, so the railway business and the cities created by railways are at a turning point in that regard as well.

If there was a part of the "calm Japanese city" mentioned earlier that wasn't calm at all, it was the murderous congestion of crowded trains. That has become much calmer compared to the past. Railways are a sustainable form of transportation that contributes to the SDGs, but if crowded trains are eliminated and they can be maintained with income other than just fares, I think an even calmer city could be possible.

The perspective of Tokyo as a railway city is important when considering the characteristics of Tokyo. Now, Mr. Tanigawa, what do you think?

Regarding urban redevelopment, the high volume of redevelopment is indeed a topic of discussion in our meetings with other real estate developers like Mitsui Fudosan and Mori Building. However, from the perspective of the workers, I think they would be happy to move from a relatively old building to a clean and convenient office. So, regardless of the debate over whether private developers are overbuilding, I believe redevelopment is a necessary act in terms of renewing the city of Tokyo.

If that's the case, we have to consider whether conventional small and medium-sized buildings are fine as they are. The movement to re-evaluate them might lead to redevelopment of entire districts, or it might be an opportunity for buildings to change to different uses. Office buildings might become housing or hotels. I think that's how cities change.

With that in mind, the return rate of office workers in the Otemachi, Marunouchi, and Yurakucho (OMY) district where I work is at most about 60% compared to 100% before the pandemic. It drops to 40% when it rains. In short, an environment has been created where work can be done without everyone coming to the office every day.

Since Otemachi, Marunouchi, and Yurakucho are primarily office districts, they are heavily affected. For example, even today, when I went out for lunch, restaurants that were so crowded you could hardly get in before the pandemic were empty.

Therefore, we are thinking with a great sense of crisis about what services we can provide to people who do come to the office, and what we should do for the city to survive.

I believe one reason to come to the office is serendipity and chance encounters. When everyone is working remotely, you don't have those moments where you happen to see someone in the office and suddenly remember, "Oh, I had something to tell him." Work actually progresses faster when everyone is in the office compared to online. You don't have to set up a meeting for every little thing. Consequently, the services we must work on from now on will likely involve proposing ways to use and create offices that increase serendipity.

Another keyword I believe is "food and entertainment." Until now, weekday lunches weren't anything special; they were somewhat functional, like eating at a cafeteria near work or school.

However, as a result of not being able to meet people for so long, people want to meet and talk over food. In that case, lunch isn't about rushing to eat 500-yen ramen; instead, there are more opportunities to spend 1,000 or 2,000 yen to eat something a bit nicer and talk slowly for an hour. Therefore, I think food will become one of the major reasons people come to the city.

Entertainment goes without saying. Online entertainment alone is boring, so live entertainment—whether it's music or sports like baseball, soccer, and rugby—will likely be a major factor in attracting people to the city.

As you mentioned, I agree that building new offices can be a catalyst for urban renewal. When a new office is built, people do move in. Those people are coming from slightly older buildings. Then, smaller companies move into the spaces that were vacated. Eventually, the oldest buildings are the ones that end up empty.

So, as you said, if we can successfully plan how to handle small and medium-sized buildings—whether through conversion or renovation—I feel like we can create a virtuous cycle.

That's right. For example, I think restaurants are being selected more carefully now. Popular restaurants currently have lines almost as long as they were before the pandemic. On the other hand, chain-like restaurants that aren't as popular are becoming less likely to be chosen. It might be because people only go to the office twice a week, so they want to at least eat something delicious when they do.

Also, the reason for food and entertainment is that after more than two years of living without going out much, I think everyone really wants to use their five senses. People want to vaguely feel the atmosphere of others moving around, or feel more physical sensations; their five senses have become very sensitive. I believe things that stimulate those five senses will be chosen from now on.

It's exactly as you said about the strain falling on small and medium-sized buildings. From now on, when doing large-scale redevelopment, we might have to propose it as a set that includes the circulation of the surrounding area. For example, if we are redeveloping a specific area, we need to think together about how to look after the other side. I feel it will be important to promise that we will contribute to the community.

This isn't about my own company, but in the area where Hibiya Midtown stands, there is an organization called Hibiya Area Management. The area with small shops along the railway tracks is actually included within the scope of that area management. Mitsui Fudosan has promised to work on town planning together with these people.

Now, Mr. Honma, how has the city changed due to COVID-19 from the perspective of art?

Museums were hit very hard by the pandemic. Initially, museums in Tokyo, whether national, public, or private, chose to close. Basically, museums are built on the premise that people visit and see things, so if they close, they are helpless. While there have been times when they weren't popular and guests didn't come, no museum had ever really considered the possibility of not being able to open at all.

On the other hand, important functions of a museum include the care of the collection and research. These functions are often forgotten in the shadow of flashy exhibitions, but the importance of research and information dissemination regarding collections was re-evaluated during the pandemic. In the recently revised Museum Act, the disclosure of collection information through the construction of digital archives has been officially positioned as a museum business.

However, digital museums are difficult. Various attempts have been made over the past two years, but we still want to show the works, and the experience of facing an actual work of art cannot be replaced. Most works in museums were originally intended to be placed in a physical space, so they don't function fully when cut out into a digital space.

One way to keep physical spaces open under pandemic conditions is, of course, to limit the number of audience members by using a reservation system or showing works only to members. While this is a practical solution, I feel it is actually a step backward in terms of the museum's role. This is because museums were originally created to open up private collections of wealthy individuals to society.

I see, that's true.

Also, I feel that the lack of a physical location is difficult in another way. It is surprisingly difficult to create a place in the digital world for "miscellaneousness"—a place where you can successfully put things that aren't clearly defined.

When showing things digitally, you need a common protocol, such as describing it in HTML, and there might be no place for things that fall outside that protocol. Art has a strong element of escaping from conventions, so in that sense, I sometimes wonder if there is a place for art in the digital world.

Not just in art, but as digital activities have permeated daily life due to the pandemic, I think conventions and rules have become very strong in various places. The interesting thing about cities like Tokyo, where many people gather, lies in a kind of disorder or miscellaneousness. In other words, a dynamism that isn't captured by a single protocol is important, and I feel that part was significantly affected by the pandemic.

Museums are one of the forms of entertainment in a city, but when you consider that art is actually created in a real space and intended to be seen and felt in a real space, it is very difficult to remove it from that space.

As you said, I think cities are exactly where miscellaneousness exists. In sparse spaces with few people, miscellaneousness isn't very important. A city is a place where it is acceptable for people to be there who don't necessarily need to be, or for things to exist that aren't strictly necessary. There is something interesting in those gaps within the city.

The keyword "renewal" came up earlier, and I think the interest of urban culture lies in the fact that various people gather and engage with culture at their own timing; the timing of that renewal and metabolism is not uniform. There is a "lag," just as young people today are finding the value in analog records. The fact that the focus on a certain culture or the birth of a new culture happens with these lags rather than uniformly is what makes urban culture interesting and resilient.

Regarding urban redevelopment, when 3 million square meters of physical space is rebuilt all at once and rewritten under the control of people who share a certain set of values, I have a slight sense of crisis that the strength of urban culture—which might be guaranteed by the lag in metabolic timing—might become fragile.

You mean that by changing all at once, that might be lost.

One thing I want to ask is that there is a view that art is only appreciated in mature cities or nations, as there is little room for it during times of economic development and growth. Since Japan has been stagnating or maturing for the past few decades, I wonder if an era is finally coming where attention is turned toward art.

That's true. But if you ask if Japanese art is energetic right now, I'm not so sure.

For example, during the difficult times after World War II, Japanese avant-garde art was at the cutting edge even internationally. Such activities are now highly evaluated in the US and elsewhere. In that case, the power of creators and artists to produce works is not necessarily linked to economic surplus.

On the other hand, the side of society that interacts with it might be as you described. A student once said that while they don't quite understand contemporary art, the fact that it appears in visible places like exhibitions shows that there are people supporting it. Therefore, they feel that the society they are in is one that can support things it doesn't understand, and they feel they might be accepted too. In other words, they can find a kind of trust in society through the existence of contemporary art. That really struck me.

Thinking about the connection between art and the city is interesting and important. Now, Dima, your specialty is urban design, town planning, and urban planning, but you also have a perspective from coming to Japan from Germany that Japanese people don't have. You've been in Japan for quite a long time now, haven't you?

21 years.

So about half your life is in Japan (laughs). Even so, I think you have a way of looking at Japan from the outside. What do you feel?

Yes. I've come to understand that Tokyo and Japanese cities have a lot of resilience. Even with high density and crowded trains, the infection rate for COVID-19 didn't get that high. Compared to cities in the US and Europe, there was that resilience. But you could also say that the strong points are simultaneously weaknesses.

For example, even before the pandemic, "loneliness" was very palpable. To begin with, people weren't very connected in their daily lives even before COVID-19. For instance, windows in new houses were getting smaller, and it seemed people weren't going out and interacting much. Because the connections between people were very weak, that actually became a strength during the pandemic.

But moving forward, major challenges remain, such as the declining birthrate and aging population, global warming, and international energy and food issues. We absolutely have to think about those. In doing so, there is a concept called "deep adaptation," and I think we really need to adapt deeply.

To build social resilience from now on, social networks—networks between people—are a very important point. However, when I look at new parks, there are many "don't" signs. There are covers around tennis courts, and even within public spaces, there is a very private sense of closure. I think we have to think about what to do about that. Creating opportunities for that will be a key point. It's about place-making and connection-building.

As Mr. Tanigawa said, new business environments can provide that, and as Mr. Honma said, art can be considered a tool for building networks. We have to think about these things from now on.

"Connection building," I see. When looking at Japanese parks, it's all "don't do this" and "don't do that." It's disappointing.

Even if you want to connect with strangers, you're thought of as suspicious or strange, and you can't even have a conversation. If you want to talk, you have to go to an old public bathhouse or a shop run by an old lady in the downtown area. Other than that, you can't really connect.

Work is very important, but there were many people who lived for work. That will probably change from now on because of COVID-19. Work-life balance will be emphasized, and new possibilities will emerge.

I thought Dima would talk about things on a large scale, but it was the most human talk (laughs). That the connection between people is the most important. I agree, and hearing those words makes me think that the strength of Japan should originally lie in people truly trusting and connecting with each other. But in reality, even if a child falls down, you want to help them up, but you leave them alone because you don't want to worry people that a strange person who likes children has come. There's this excessive consideration.

Because of that tendency to be overly considerate in advance, maybe that's why everyone keeps their masks on. There's a part of that which makes human relationships sparse and lonely.

When thinking about post-pandemic Tokyo, thinking about human connections seems like an important topic. On a human scale, I feel like we are being told to rethink how we connect.

That's right. Abroad, there are artists in parks or even in business districts like Marunouchi. But they aren't there for entertainment; they are artists for connecting people.

For example, in Bogotá, Colombia, there are people called "Traffic Mimes." They are artists meant to connect lonely grandmothers. The government pays for that. Until now, Japan hasn't really had that awareness. Even in the reconstruction of Tohoku, money was only given for hardware; no money was given for creating social cafes or doing social arts.

Until now, it was difficult unless economic benefits could be shown, but I want to create new measures.

It's called Socially Engaged Art (SEA), which involves activities that encourage the transformation of social values through participation in and collaboration with the community. By having artists inserted into society as a kind of foreign object, they play the role of shifting fixed frameworks, creating gaps, and generating communication.

However, as Dima said, the difficult part is whether a budget is properly allocated for that.

I see. In a city, there are rules that strangers must be indifferent and must not intervene, but I think we should do more things that trigger interest and lead to communication or relationships. That is the original essence of a city—strangers meeting there. It's like serendipity; it's an activity to induce chance encounters.

Some things changed with COVID-19, but I think there are more things that were already progressing in Japanese cities even without the pandemic that became clearer.

For example, as an extension of what has been happening, digitalization has progressed rapidly, teleworking has been promoted, and it has become possible to get things done even from a distance. Cities used to exist as places where various means gathered—like having to go to an ATM to withdraw money, stamping seals, or sending mail—but through digitalization, these can now be done remotely.

As these means are replaced remotely and society becomes more information-based, I think more emphasis has been placed on the city becoming "experiential." This connects to what was said about food and entertainment.

In other words, it's difficult for virtual technology to reproduce taste anytime soon. Consequently, the value of such experiential qualities increases, and a cycle of discovering them is created. Within that, the context in which art holds significant value has become easier to see.

Workshops and participation have been talked about for a long time. Making things hold value as something tactile through involvement rather than just viewing has continued since before the pandemic. In the field of urban planning, various methods like tactical urbanism, which emphasizes the process, have been developing.

The same goes for fan culture, like idol otaku activities. There is a famous book called "Convergence Culture," which also places great importance on participatory fan activities and connections.

However, while I think that value has increased due to COVID-19, there is also a concern that if it just becomes about having to do some event or activity, it will end up as transient consumption.

Unless art and culture are things that accumulate as experience to some extent, they won't build up within the local community. Without a certain level of sustainability or a depth of people to receive it, it might just be a temporary commotion.

So continuity is important.

One more thing: Mr. Tanigawa mentioned a 60% return, but if the conversation turns to raising the average spend per customer to recover the remaining 40%, that could end up strongly pushing forward "disparity." I think this is a very troubling point.

In sociology, becoming economically wealthy and expanding human relationships is expressed as "life chances," and people used to come to the city to obtain such life chances. If increasing the value of the urban environment and living in a rich environment is emphasized too much, there is a negative element that disparity might widen. Therefore, in addition to sustainability, I think we must consider what kind of value exists in that place as something inclusive.

Another point is the nature of Japanese cities, and I understand very well what Dima said. In other words, the reason the number of COVID-19 infections was low in Japan was likely due to the strength of self-restraint, where everyone stayed home if the government requested it. If you look at live venues overseas, everyone is making noise with their masks off, but in Japan, everyone still restrains themselves.

Long ago, a political scientist named Jiro Kamishima said that Japanese cities are a "second village." He argued that Tokyo is a collection of many villages formed by groups of people who came from the countryside from the pre-war to post-war periods. In those circles, people communicate with insiders, but they are shy or act with restraint toward strangers. In such times, masks can be said to be a shield or armor against strangers. It's about not having your expressions read or not letting people who don't know you learn too much about you.

Even before COVID, there were quite a few people who wore "date-masuku" (masks worn for non-medical reasons) even when they didn't have a cold. For women, it serves as a shield so they don't have to wear makeup, or so their expressions aren't read—a kind of protection against being sized up. In sociology, the ideal is often described as self-disclosure in a "third place" to create the core of a community, but I wonder if the etiquette of self-restraint becomes too strong, it might become a wall.

The Japanese sense of self-restraint is truly strong. The attitude of trying not to be a nuisance to others is a virtue, but I think there is also an aspect where that makes things small and compact in various ways, making it impossible to do things freely.

Recently, for example, I think students' desire to study abroad is considerably lower than the awareness we had 30 years ago. They feel that Japan is fine, it's very comfortable, and there's no need to force themselves to speak English. I think it's a waste, but there's a feeling that Japan is a good country as it is.

When there is such a trend, and people are told to please not go outside as much as possible, I am very concerned that being able to live peacefully like that might conversely be making Japan a closed-off place.

I am also concerned that the movement toward making things closed is increasing slightly in the field of art. As "Aichi Triennale" sparked a major controversy, there are works that require extreme technique to exhibit. There are voices suggesting that such works should first be shared only among a limited group of people. However, I think that such a tendency to close off is a bit dangerous.

The context is quite different, but recently, exhibitions that deploy video across an entire room to create high immersion are popular, aren't they? Also, I think there is an increase in works and exhibitions with very strong narratives, designed to immerse the viewer in a single, closed, consistent story.

These can be called closed exhibitions in the sense that there is no contact between reality and the exhibition. While the strength of a narrative is an attraction, we should be aware somewhere that it can lead to closing off. I feel it is necessary to intentionally insert something different or show discrepancies.

In our company's area, especially under the JR tracks in Yurakucho, there is a certain seediness, and there are many shops where you think, "Is this place okay?"

I love those places (laughs).

Actually, we recently had artists survey the Yurakucho area. It turns out that artists really like the areas under the tracks. They said Otemachi is too clean and Marunouchi is too polished to touch, but Yurakucho is great. They find it very interesting, saying things like, "There's a sign like this in a place like this," or "There was a shop like this in the back—what is that urban gap?"

With that in mind, we are currently working on a project called "Yurakucho Art Urbanism," discussing how Yurakucho should not just be a city with art, but a city where artists reside. In a related project, we are having artists stay and create works in what used to be a street-level store on the first floor of the Shin-Yurakucho Building.

Actually, I happened to pass by today and took a photo.

Is that so? It's called "Sono Aida," and we are working with an artist named Akira Fujimoto, who uses various networks to invite artists so that the process of their creation is clearly visible. What we've learned from doing this is exactly as you said: things that were in closed spaces become very interesting when the process is visible.

Also, we had artists stay in a section on the 10th floor of the Yurakucho Building and create works there for four months, and the wonderful works they created in Yurakucho are now being archived. I think that is valuable both in terms of preserving the city as it is now and in terms of accumulating culture.

I think a city where artists reside is not just good for the business side because artists are there, but the fact that artists accumulate experiences of being supported by the city will probably be one catalyst for making the city better.

Instead of leaving closed things closed, if you make an effort to show them, I suppose something like a natural encounter is born from there.

I haven't been able to return to Germany for these past three years, but there is a Facebook group with about 300 participants that traces the history of my home village of a thousand people. Current residents and residents living all over the world participate, and they have discussions through photos from a hundred years ago. They explore things like, "What kind of person was this?" or "Where was this window or this door?"

I connected with people I hadn't been able to talk to at all during those three years away. Various archives were found, including old materials from the 18th century. I want to research that. I'm going back in August, so I want to conduct interviews with grandfathers in their 80s and 90s.

When I study my own village deeply, various problems in common with Tokyo, where I live now, emerge. How to distribute responsibility within the community. How to get people to gather. How to utilize volunteer activities. Of course, the laws are different and there are various differences, but because there are many common problems, I want to create opportunities to learn from each other.

Looking at regional revitalization in Germany, they are good at using renewable energy, but Japan is good at creating places, new services, or using old crafts to create completely new things. I want to create a place for such exchanges. You can come up with ideas without leaving Japan to go to Germany.

As Mr. Maki said, I think there are many things Japan provides, such as safety. When you go to Germany or America, there are many scary things.

In the actual village, nothing is moving, but the virtual village is active. In reality, young people and elderly people aren't very connected, and there were only weak connections between people outside and those living there, but they are becoming connected. I think it's the same in Japan.

I see. It would be great if more stories like finding commonalities between a German village of a thousand people and Tokyo's 12 million people happened. I think that is very much related to the idea of opening up instead of closing off.

Japanese people have the self-restraint to suppress infections, but on the other hand, that's why they tend to close off. If left to nature, Japanese people probably tend to settle very dutifully into a small and compact state. Even in a place like Tokyo, I feel that young people tend to close off a bit.

I feel it is important to make an effort to be understood by others, because having connections with the outside, rather than just looking inward, also leads to understanding ourselves.

Since I was involved in the launch of the university museum named "Keio Museum Commons," I have been thinking about the "commons" (shared land). I wanted to show that there are various ways to open up and various ways to connect.

It doesn't have to be completely open, and it doesn't have to be completely closed. It doesn't mean everything must be connected. Partial is fine. I want to think about how dutiful Japanese people can create that kind of ambiguity or a certain kind of casualness.

That's right. It's important to intentionally create places like a commons and tell people that it's okay to be there.

I also had many unpleasant things during COVID, but a good thing was that telework progressed to some extent, and as a result of less commuting, I was able to get more involved in the town where I live. Rather than going to the city center and opening up globally, I like that room was created to open up a little to the town where I live.

In the traditional gender division of labor, there was a pattern where the husband went to the city center to work and the wife stayed home to handle local activities, but if that can be resolved a little, I feel that various ways of opening up to the town will emerge.

This connects to the familiar world Ms. Tanaka mentioned, but Dima also mentioned parks earlier. During the state of emergency, the only places to go were nearby parks, and there was a kind of re-evaluation of parks, wasn't there? I feel that was a very good thing for the people living there.

Parks filled with play equipment might be good for small children, but I wonder if that is truly a good park. I honestly thought it was great that everyone's awareness turned toward greenery and parks, wondering if just a plain lawn with nothing on it might be better. I myself had never liked parks and greenery this much before.

I feel that the way of looking at urban structures has changed since we started evaluating parks. For example, I feel the way of thinking about greenery in development has changed significantly, so I think that will have a huge impact on the future image of Tokyo.

That is a great opportunity. From now on, there is a possibility that things will improve through parks in participatory town planning. There is a lovely old park in front of my house, but I received a notice that it will be renovated in about two months. It said they will put in a lot of paving and cut down old trees.

Actually, the same pattern of urban planning is progressing in various places. If we can't show new possibilities, those things will keep moving forward. Why put in asphalt and cut down old trees when it's so hot now and we have heavy rain? The Jingu Gaien issue is the same.

I believe that the way of building cities from now on requires each individual to think bottom-up about what the issues are and what should be done. As you said, if we don't do that, at some point things will be decided top-down.

I thought that if awareness of nearby parks and the surrounding area strengthens, and the awareness of how our town should be increases, and that leads to moving the administration, things will change little by little.

That awareness of familiar things and familiar places leads to enhancing connections between people, and then becomes a slightly larger movement. I think such things are actually possible even in the giant city of Tokyo.

I think the strength of Tokyo is the resiliency of being made up of a collection of such small things. I thought that the connections of each individual, their awareness, and their movements will quietly change the city itself.

Thank you very much for today.