Danchi — Japanese public housing of the past

Hello again from a terribly hot and humid Tokyo

Before I take a deep dive into Japanese public housing (danchi), I’d like to very briefly mention the Autumn Foliage with Urban and Rural Nostalgia November 4-13 workshop that my good friend Giovanni are running. A continuation of sorts from our successful February outing.

We are nearly there with the numbers needed to go ahead, but have set a deadline of August 15th to allow for the booking of flights etc., so if you are interested, all the details, pricing and so on can be found here.

Danchi — public housing of the past

In the post-war years, Japan saw huge financial and population growth, resulting in a significant increase in young, newly middle class families looking to set up home in the suburbs. A housing crisis that led to the creation of danchi, and the construction of previously unseen concrete apartment blocks of varying sizes.

Starting in the mid-1950s, those in charge of the project were influenced at least in part by soviet designs, and as such the structures were decidedly utilitarian in appearance. At the same time they were also incredibly modern, plus their locations were purposely green, with ample space between the various apartment blocks.

A society changed forever

These early structures were only 4 or 5 floors high. The maximum height deemed manageable without an elevator. At the same time, all apartments boasted ‘dining-kitchens’ as a focal point.  A new introduction that not only raised the status of the Japanese housewife, but created an open-plan room that could be equipped with the 3 desired features of the age: a refrigerator, washing machine and television.

Much more consequential, however, was the move away from multi-generational households. A dramatic change that these new, nuclear family homes, both prompted and promoted. This huge societal shift in many ways helped create the modern cities that Japan is known for today, arguably altering the country forever. For better or worse depending on viewpoints.

As time went on, the scale of danchi buildings increased dramatically, resulting in futuristic looking behemoths like the complex in the photographs. This particular one, completed in the early 1970s, came at a time when construction was slowing due to the housing crisis gradually easing, making it a symbol of both peak danchi and also danchi decline.

The decline

Fast forward to the current era and danchi can now be very different places indeed. Many of the buildings that still remain are increasingly showing their age, with lots of them far from fully occupied. Their predominantly elderly occupants once young residents who brought up families there. Those aforementioned green spaces, along with nearby playgrounds and schools making them ideal locations back then. Nowadays though, they can be contributing factors in social isolation, especially as due to age and long since grown up children, many residents live alone. An issue, combined with the nature of such accommodation in general, leading to a rise in the terribly sad phenomena of kadokushi — lonely or unnoticed deaths.

Danchi — public housing of the future?

All of which would seem like the end of the once fabled danchi, but due to refurbishment, and their retro vibes, some buildings are seeing a new lease of life among young professionals.

Potentially far more consequential, however, is that because of their relatively low rent, minimal moving in costs, and strict policy of non-discrimination (which can be a very different story when it comes to privately owned property), many danchi are now becoming home to a growing number of foreign residents. The inevitable concerns about friction due to cultural differences and the following of community rules being countered in some municipalities with the introduction of Japanese classes and multilingual support.

A trend that admittedly may take a hit as the country moves increasingly to the right and anti-foreigner rhetoric intensifies, but if the non-native population of danchi continues to rise, these ageing concrete structures may once again have a big impact on Japanese society. Changes that just like those initial ones will be met with very mixed emotions.

All of which wraps up another newsletter. Another slightly different offering that I hope was interesting.

Speak to you in the next one.

Cheers

Lee