Can Hole Diggers and Acorn Gatherers Save the Earth?

It takes patience to save the earth.  It’s not glamorous, and most times its downright dull.

Japan’s Tree Guru, Akira Miyawaki.

Back in 1958, a young Japanese researcher working on a German nature preserve complained to his mentor about the tedium. His words fell on unsympathetic ears, and he was firmly instructed to dig more holes. The researcher, Akira Miyawaki, is now referred to as Japan’s “tree guru”; well into his 80’s, he is currently heading the project to redesign the coastline of the city of Sendai (Miyagi Prefecture), creating a forest-covered embankment to protect the heart of the city from future tsunamis. He’s developed a new theory of forestry that bears his name, travelled the globe (visited 17,000 places, according to one estimate), and single-handedly planted 40 million trees. Yet he got his start studying the humble weed (majored in “Weed Ecology” at Hiroshima University), and digging holes in Germany….for two long years.

So what was all the hole digging about?  Basically, it was about studying the soil of the nature preserve, which was actually a non-productive wasteland at the time, searching for

Luneburg Heath Wildlife Park in Germany, where Miyawaki got his start digging holes (photo by Micheal Gabler, 2012).

clues. What was the forest like in its original state, hundreds of years ago?  What traces remained of the flourishing ecosystem that had once existed?  Miyawaki slogged on digging his holes, testing the soil, recording his findings, and beginning to understand nature in a new way.  He learned that, with patience, what man has destroyed can be rediscovered and reconstructed.  To be more specific: careful study of damaged environments reveals much about the ecosystem as it once was.  It is possible to then “re-generate” the area’s natural vegetation by planting a mixture of the same species that existed in the past, which are perfectly suited to the soil and climate of the area.  No longer absorbed by weeds, the young researcher became obsessed with re-creating entire forests.

Armed with his new ideas, Miyawaki returned to Japan from Germany.  To his dismay, he was promptly ignored.  This was Japan in the 1960’s, and business was booming.  No-one was interested in saving the environment, the forest, or even a single tree.  With no audience for his research, the Weed-Man-turned-Tree-Guru went back to slogging away on his own.  He began walking across the country compiling data, making vegetation maps,

Example of what Miyawaki-san considers a “fake” forest: all trees same height, same species, carefully pruned, and ramrod straight (taken here in Hadano City).

and maps of potential new forests based on former species that had once flourished.  Very few remnants of Japan’s ancient forests existed, as most had either burned, or been converted to arable land or real estate.  What remained were manmade forests (“fakes” as he referred to them) , often consisting of only one or two species and thus lacking in biodiversity.  Methodically, he studied the forests as he had in Germany, testing the soil and searching for clues as to what trees had once flourished in these areas.  He kept at it for ten years.

At last, in the early 70’s, the realization that Japan’s natural environment was in dire straits began to set in.  Suddenly, Miyawaki was “popular”, and his idea for creating “authentic” forests of densely planted species indigenous to their environment was given a name: the Miyawaki Method.  Miyawaki advocated planting a mixture of appropriate species at random, which would ultimately result in forests with trees of tall, medium, and low height, serving as barriers to both fire and flood, and supporting a diversity of plant and animal life.  These native trees would be rooted deeply and firmly in the soil, thus preventing erosion.  Weeding and management would be required for the first three years, but thereafter the forests would fend for themselves and

Remnant of one of Japan’s fast-disappearing ancient forests, the “authentic” kind. Miyawaki estimated that only .06 % of Japan’s sacred groves are still in existence (photo of forest on Yakushima).

continue to flourish.  These forests would be known as multi-layer “community forests”, and serve as havens of biodiversity.  The first such forest in Japan was created in 1971, through the joint efforts of local residents who gathered acorns, grew trees from seedlings, and held a ceremony to mark the planting of the seedlings.  Their efforts  eventually resulted in a spacious forest boasting a canopy of over twenty meters in height.

Miyawaki went on to organize and oversee the planting of many more “authentic” forests, both in Japan and abroad.  He became a noted scholar and director of the Japan Center for International Studies in Ecology, and is currently Professor Emeritus at Yokohama University, as well as a recipient of the Blue Planet Prize for environmental conservation.  A quick Google search reveals photos of a small man with a twinkle in his eye and a good-humored grin, planting seedlings in China, Malaysia, Borneo, Kenya and other countries desperate to restore health to land damaged by industrialization.  He was, in fact, abroad in Indonesia when the Great East Japan Quake struck. Deeply disturbed by the tsunami coverage of coastal destruction, he rushed back to his own country to put his expertise to work in Northern Japan.

Miyawaki arrived in Tohoku shortly after the quake, and was dismayed to realize that

A full year after the tsunami, uprooted pine trees still littered the shores of Rikuzentakata.

entire forests had been swept away by the tsunami.  These forests bordering the shoreline were largely made up of pine trees, whose roots had not penetrated deep into the sandy shore; they were uprooted in their entirety, not only having failed to serve as tsunami barriers, but having caused secondary damage as they were washed inland.  Of course, the most famous of these coastal forests was in Rikuzentakata, where only a single pine remained standing in what was a grove of 70,000 trees which had been planted over two centuries before.

Wasting no time, Miyawaki and  Doryu Hioki, a Buddhist priest from Sendai’s Rinno Temple, began surveying the ravaged coastline of Miyagi.

The Tabunoki, or Machilus, flourishes throughout Japan. Its resilience was proven in last year’s tsunami

Their purpose?  A thorough assessment of the remaining trees along the shore, to discover which species had stood firm and provided protection from the force of the tsunami, and which species were unable to withstand the raging waters. After touring several of the most severely damaged areas,  Miyawaki and Doryu were encouraged to note “green walls” of Tabunoki (Machilus) which remained standing.  Houses directly behind the thick-bodied, pliant, firmly-rooted trees were also standing.  In one case, a Tabunoki remained standing, its roots partly exposed, although most of the surrounding soil had been washed away.  Clearly, the Tabunoki would be central in the reconstruction of Sendai’s coastline, and Miyawaki’s plan for a Green Tide Embankment began to take shape.

Miyawaki’s project, an “authentic forest of life”, will serve as a memorial to lives lost and as a symbol of new beginnings.  The forest will be planted over a mound, in which processed debris from the quake and tsunami will be buried.  The mound will form an embankment stretching along the coastline, protecting human lives and property and weakening the force of future tsunamis.  Tabunoki will be the main species, supported by other native species of varying heights.  After the first three years, the forest will not need tending, and will continue to flourish for…..9,000 years!  Now that’s smart long-term planning.  The forest will come to fruition through the efforts of ordinary citizens, who have been gathering seeds from the Tabunoki, planting them, and tending to the seedlings.  Private enterprises and NPOs will fund the project.  Miyawaki’s goal?  To transform the coast of Sendai into an authentic forest of 40 million trees within 20 years.

Long ago, Japan’s forests were sacred places, dedicated to the gods and protected from

Shinto ropes mark this tree as part of a “sacred grove”. (photo by Ray Kinnane)

destruction by unspoken taboos.  Spirits dwelled in the rocks, plants, and trees, and men were forbidden to intrude.  Even today, my friend Misao only cuts trees from the forest on a certain day of the year (in February), when it is said that the spirits will not be angered.  These days, sacred groves such as those made famous in Miyazaki Hayao’s  “Mononoke Hime” are nearly extinct.  Forests are man-made rather than “authentic”; they are vulnerable to disaster, and are no longer sacred.  One could  say that the image of the sacred grove has been further profaned since last March, when the forests of Tohoku were poisoned by cesium.  Men dare not enter these forests, children are forbidden to play in them, and their bounty goes unharvested.  Miyawaki Akira dreams of creating new sacred groves in Japan, and has dedicated his life to this end.  In his own words, “Forests are life itself. Humans have survived until today supported by forests. The life for surviving tomorrow begins with creating true ‘forests of life’ by planting trees today.”

Miyawaki Akira and other respected and knowledgable figures such as C.W. Nichol have made significant progress in repairing the damage done to the environment due to a combination of greed, thoughtlessness, and lack of vision.  They have also become popular and well-loved educators, spreading their message of conservation and care to Japanese

Japanese citizens protesting on June 15th, outside the Prime Minister’s headquarters in Kasumigaseki.

citizens and foreigners living in Asia as well.  As long as the Japanese government insists on following a nuclear agenda, their entire life’s work is at risk.  I am deeply saddened and disappointed at Prime Minister Noda’s announcement that the Oi Nuclear Power Plant will re-start two of its reactors this summer, in spite of citizen protests, lack of proper and timely safety precautions, continued delay in establishing a nuclear watchdog committee free from inside influence, and new and irrefutable evidence of large quakes yet to come. While the nuclear industry and the central government think ahead as far as September, risking everything on the fallacy that they have made adequate preparations to withstand anything that might befall from hereon in (my guess is that no-one believes this now) , Miyawaki and other unsung heros are thinking in terms of thousands of years.  They fight the good fight to preserve the earth, which is the true source of our life and nourishment.  As Rinno Temple priest Doryu Hioki states in the video below,

“Until now, it has been considered right to change and adapt nature for human convenience using power and technology.  The Great East Japan Earthquake taught us this lesson: Science and technology are not meant to control nature, but to be used as pieces of wisdom making it possible for us to coexist with nature…..Now is a turning point of history. We have to shift from the age when materialism was central to an age where every life and soul will be loved tenderly. The Green Tide Embankment that protects life is a wisdom for living with nature.”

It is my hope that my children and grandchildren will be able to visit, or even live near, one of the new authentic forests being created.  As their generation will be responsible for the decommissioning of Japan’s remaining nuclear power plants and finding a storage solution for decades of accumulated nuclear waste products, it does not seem too much to hope that they might also enjoy the benefits of the forest as well.  I hope against hope that the Green Tide Embankment and other similar projects come to fruition.  Take a look at the video, and see what comes of patiently digging holes and gathering acorns.

Forests in Japan: Under Attack, and Under Construction

One of Tokyo’s delightful green spaces. (photo by Jared Braiterman)

Although one can easily lose sight of reality living and working in an urban center such as Tokyo, Japan is actually 67% woodland.  Tokyo is chock-full of small green spaces (check out the blog of Jared Braiterman, a Design Anthropologist who posts almost daily from the city), and carefully tended showcase parks (like the beautiful and popular forested grounds of  Meiji Jingu Shrine in Shibuya), but what’s it like in the real countryside?

Well, first, a bit of history, taken from talks with my geologist friend Yukari, and from an excellent article by Winifred Bird, a graduate of Amherst College (Suma Cum Laude, Political Science) who now lives in Nagano. She writes free-lance for a wide variety of publications on topics including nature, science, and architecture, and was a Media Fellow at Vermont Law School’s Environmental Law Program in 2011. See her full profile–it’s rather fascinating in itself.  In a recent article for Yale Environment 360, Bird writes of the large number of Japan’s forests that are actually “artificial plantations”:  government

Aaaa-choo! … it’s Japanese cedar. Not only Japan’s national tree,  but also the country’s worst allergy offender.

subsidized projects containing mostly Cedar and Cypress, rather than a healthy variety of trees. Having grown up in rural New England amidst well-tended forests boasting a mixture of species, I noticed this myself on first moving to Japan, often thinking, “Why doesn’t this look like a real forest?” The forests I saw looked carefully arranged, with no variations in height or color–in short, fake.

True Old Growth forests are extremely rare in Japan, and the newer single-species plantations designed to feed Japan’s growing construction industry do not provide an ideal haven for wildlife.  In her Environment 360 article, Winifred Bird speaks with Mariko Moriyama, a representative of the Japan Bear and Forest Association, about the limited diversity in Japanese forests.  According to Moriyama, she writes, the outcome has been, “…the creation of forests where few animals can survive. Vast single-species stands of timber lack the plant diversity found in natural forests, and plant diversity forms the foundation for animal diversity. Black bears, for example, are omnivorous but prefer to eat young leaves, insects, berries, and acorns–few of which can be found in timber plantations. ” Does this not make perfect sense?  Moriyama-san puts it bluntly: “The results of the experiments are in. Japan’s traditional culture preserved amazing forests up until World War II. Our post-war approach has failed.”

In other words, even before the nuclear disaster in Fukushima, many of Japan’s forests were suffering.  Next, consider the current state of Fukushima Prefecture, which is 70 percent forestland.  The Japanese government has chosen to decontaminate much of the

Okuma, Fukushima: 10,000 tons of bagged waste from the decontamination process, temporarily stored in a baseball stadium. (Photo by Takayuki Kihara)

farm and forest land within the evacuation zone (areas outside of the zone are the responsibility of local governments) in order to bring families back and revitalize deserted neighborhoods. The process is well underway, and involves cutting (of tree branches),  scraping (of topsoil),  power-washing (of houses and trees in fruit orchards),  shaving (of bark from trees!),  bagging (of leaf litter), and thorough plowing (the deeper the better, to turn over the soil and dilute the cesium contaminating the topmost layer).  Technically, the focus of decontamination is on residential areas rather than forestland, but since there are no clear barriers in many rural areas of Fukushima, parts of the hilly woods in close vicinity to houses are being “cleaned” as well. And what’s being done with the refuse? The cut branches, scraped-off topsoil, and mountains of cesium-laced leaves?  As the photo shows, there’s no long-term, safe, or aesthetically pleasing solution. Some towns deposit the bulging bags in shallow pits, and some keep them above ground.  Meanwhile plastic bag manufacturers, along with companies specializing in geiger counters and power hoses, are making a tidy profit, I’m sure.

Going back to the writing of Winifred Bird, this January, she wrote another article for the  Environment 360 publication that deals with the projected effects of decontamination in Fukushima. By her assessment, the process (due to be completed in 2014) is likely to cause “huge amounts of radioactive waste that no-one wants to store long-term; immediate investments of money, labor, and time; damage to wildlife habitat and soil fertility; increased erosion on scraped-bare hillsides; and intrusion by people and machinery into

A Japanese Wild boar; human health trumps his habitat. This particular guy is from Kyushuu, but there are plenty of boars in Fukushima as well.

every area scheduled for remediation.”  In her article, she quotes Kiyomi Yokota, a naturalist and secretary of the Fukushima Nature Conservation Association.  Although Yokota regrets the upsetting of the forest’s ecological balance, he sees it as a necessary evil.  As he states, “If people want to go home, I don’t think I could tell them, `No, stop the decontamination and save the fish.”  In other words, declares Bird,  human health trumps habitat.

Last Sunday, the Japan Times featured another article by Bird, entitled, “Chernobyl Expert Takes a Look at Tohoku’s Trees”.  The expert, Dr. Sergiy Aibtsev, a Ukranian forest ecologist who has been studying contamination in wooded areas for 19 years, flew to Japan to tour the Tohoku forests and confer with Japanese ecologist Dr. Tatsuhiro Ohkubo (who’s only been studying contamination since the time of the triple disaster).  In Chernobyl, 26 years have passed, and the exclusion zone is still off-limits. Its forests are untouched, save for experiments and minimal management, and forests outside the zone are carefully regulated and monitored. Aibtsev, concerned that the removal of leaf litter, undergrowth, and branches from Fukushima’s forests “could undermine forest health”, explained the Russian approach to contamination.  Bird writes,

A forest?  Or a “holding tank for contamination”?

“Zibtsev explains that as long as trees and leaf litter are healthy, forest ecosystems trap radionuclides and prevent them from seeping down into the groundwater, or being carried into streams by erosion-or blowing away as dust in the wind. Ukraine’s management policy has aimed to maximize the role of forests as holding tanks for contamination rather than attempt decontamination. “

Bird also directly quotes Zibtsev, who uses a graphic comparison to make his point:

“The approach has been to let the ecosystem work. Fungi is much more effective than millions of people (at containing contamination).  It’s like if your body is functioning, and you decide, why don’t I remove my liver to clean it? And then you realize you can’t live without it. People in Japan want the forest to be clean. They want to rewind (back to) before 3/11. (But) we’re living in a new reality.”

Even Shinichi Nakayama, a nuclear engineer at Japan’s Atomic Energy Agency who is overseeing 19 of the decontamination pilot projects admitted that over-cleaning could present new complications. “You take it all away (“all”, meaning the greenery) and the eco-system is destroyed,” he pronounced.

Back to Bird’s phrase: human health trumps habitat?  I always thought the two were not rivals, but inter-connected. That connection, it seems, has been broken for Fukushima residents.  The forests that once sustained are now being stripped of their own sustenance.

So that’s how things stand in Fukushima. Now let’s move to Tokyo, where forests are

Jared Braiterman, reveling in a green space!

not under siege, but being created.  Although many Tokyo residents are unaware, a fabulous architectural project is under construction. I learned of this through the aforementioned blog of Jared Braiterman, the Design Anthropologist and seeker of green spaces.  The title of the post caught my attention: “What if a Forest is Created and No-One Knows?” , and I began reading, learning of a project that’s been steadily progressing since 2007 to create a “Forest on the Sea” or “Umi no Mori”.

Designed by the renowned architect Tadao Ando, the forest is an attempt to restore beauty and function to a landfill in Tokyo Bay, an 88 hectare raised landmass built of…waste. Ugly, eh? On his introductory site,  Ando speaks plainly about the landfill site, stating,

“The modern practice of mass production and mass consumption has given rise to a negative legacy throughout the wold in the form of refuse. In Tokyo Bay as well, a consequence of our urban activities is seen in a landfill of refuse and surplus soil that reaches 30 meters in height and stretches over 88 hectares-about the size of one golf course.

Umi no Mori (Sea Forest) will become a symbol of our recycling-oriented society through which Japan, a country that has a tradition of living hand-in-hand with nature, can make an appeal to the world about the importance of living in harmony with the environment. In view of the fact that landfills exist in all corners of the world, I perceive this island as a forest that belongs not just to Tokyo, but to the world, and through this project, wish to communicate the message of `living in harmony with nature’.”

Chart showing the “Wind Passages” effected from Ando’s Forest on the Sea.

Ando’s plan, begun five years ago, is to create a forest of mixed species, not only to beautify a barren space, but to create a passageway for breezes to blow into the city, providing relief from the sweltering summer heat.  As another part of Ando’s plan, local children have been involved with the planting. Various planting events have been held since 2008, including one attended by U2’s Bono. Funding for the project is purely through personal donations-also the idea of Ando, who hopes for donations of 1,000 ¥  from 500,000 people to complete his project. Here’s the link to his Umi no Mori site if you wish to make a donation, or know someone who is interested in the project. Better yet, spread the word!  The blog post I stumbled on was from 2009, and the author was lamenting the fact that so few folks knew about its existence. Well, though the Tokyo Sky Tree has been so over-publicized that I see it in my dreams, looming over me, this forest project hasn’t made much of a splash at all. Braiterman berates the Tokyo municipal government for not making the project more public:

“I think this park will eventually be fantastic. However, it’s a missed opportunity not to make its creation more participatory, more transparent, more public, more connected to the rest of the city, more educational, and a catalyst for public and collective thinking of the urban environment and waste production.”

And Braiterman’s right. Instead of putting their energy into the promotion of a project that

“Forest on the Sea”, shown in photo from summer, 2010. How many forests will need to be planted to cover new landfills?

isn’t costing the city a cent and serves the purpose of rehabilitating a shameful eyesore, the municipal government is busy accepting debris from Tohoku and burning it along the Bay, creating yet more pollution and showing an appalling lack of judgement and concern for its citizens. It’s a sickening cycle in the end, as the remains of the incinerated rubble are being buried in yet another Tokyo Bay site, creating yet another landfill ripe for rehabilitating.  Are there enough creative minds to deal with the mountains of refuse that are plaguing this already overcrowded country?  Not by a long shot; the landfills are winning the battle.

Meanwhile, up in Tohoku, the city of Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture is planning to use part of its own tsunami debris to build “tide-prevention groves”.  Rather than concrete sea wall barriers, city planners envision a raised coastline built from landfill and lined with trees, which will serve to slow the speed and reduce the power of future tsunamis as well as preventing land erosion. I love the simplicity of the design.

And that’s where I’ll close for now. Growing up surrounded by forests, living in Japan has led me to re-think my definition of their purpose.  Thinking of the woodlands in Russia and Fukushima that will remain as repositories for cesium, lying untouched, unexplored, untended, and unused, fills me with terrible sadness.  Human health trumps habitat, and for the sake of man’s safety, they will remain off-limits. The animals residing there are on their own.

Thinking of the newly-conceived forests built as cosmetic covers for landfills gives me mixed feelings as well. In the case of Sendai, city planners are making the best of a terrible situation, planning responsibly and considering aesthetics and practicality as well. Hopefully the trees along the coast will help to save their lives in the future. Still, the trees are covering a waste dump, containing the remains of its past life, and parents should educate their children to know the city’s history and teach them to create as little waste as possible in their lives.

Tree planting at Ando’s “Forest on the Sea”. A sea of green to cover a multitude of sins?

In the case of Tokyo, I feel deep disappointment and a sense of hopelessness. A project reflecting a positive transformation for the city does not receive enough attention, and landfills continue to multiply, rather than diminish. I also learned, while writing this post, that another of my favorite green spaces in Tokyo, Yamashita Park,  is built over landfill.  Strange, that more people do not find this unnerving.  Those who see only the surface of things, I suppose, are able to carry on their daily lives without questioning why. Baseball stadiums filled with radioactive soil?  Stripping the  leaves and bark from trees?  And still the question of whether Japan should continue to use nuclear power remains an issue?  As far as I’m concerned, the more pressing issue is the de-commissioning of each and every nuclear power plant across Japan: a long-term challenge, complicated by the reality that college students are already steering clear of any nuclear-power related programs. They know that the future is somewhere else.

Thank you for reading, and good night.