Kamaishi-shi

In the latest Population Census the population is about thirty-two thousand (32,078 in 2020). Its course is a deep decline. From 46,521 in 2000, through 42,987 in 2005, 39,574 in 2010, 36,802 in 2015, to 32,078 in 2020, more than fourteen thousand — nearly three-tenths — were lost over twenty years. The great tsunami of 2011 too struck this ground.

Look inside and the shape of a town of iron shrinking appears clearly. The share aged 65 and over rose from 26.4% in 2000 to 39.8% in 2020, nearing four-tenths. The share of households with children was a low 14.5% in 2020, and the Childcare Waitlist was zero in both 2024 and 2025. The Fiscal Capacity Index was 0.48 in fiscal 2023 — its own tax revenue does not reach half of expenditure, with large reliance on the local allocation tax. A town where iron was first made continuously in the country greatly loses population, with the rise and fall of iron, and deepens its aging. The key to reading this deep shrinkage lies in the history of the birthplace of modern ironmaking that arose in the mountains.

This town’s frame is set by one history — the modern ironmaking that arose in the mountains ahead of the rest of the country. The beginning is the blast furnace. In the mountains of this ground, iron ore lay richly buried. In 1857 a samurai of a certain domain built a Western-style tall furnace in the mountains of this town, melted iron ore, and, for the first time in the country, succeeded in tapping iron continuously. Until then, iron in the country had been made by an old method of firing iron sand in a low furnace; but this method of melting iron ore in a Western-style blast furnace and obtaining pig iron continuously became the beginning of the country’s modern ironmaking. The day of that success is still handed down as the anniversary of iron, and the ruins of this blast furnace remaining in the mountains were later counted among the heritage of the world.

Upon this beginning, a great modern ironworks was built. In the Meiji era an official ironworks, later in private hands, a full-scale ironworks was run in this town; and as the masters of its management shifted with the times, the town became a town of iron supported by a single huge company. Workers and their families gathered in the town, and living turned around iron. But within the waves of the times over iron, the scale of ironmaking gradually shrank, and the places to work that supported the town dwindled. This town, facing the sea of the Sanriku coast, was also struck by the great tsunami of 2011, and the shoreside living took a deep wound. Beginning from the blast furnace in the mountains, a town of iron supported by a single company — this town’s form stands atop the history of the birthplace of modern ironmaking, set by the mountains that held iron ore and by the shore of the Sanriku coast.

What sets Kamaishi apart is that, while it holds the history of the birthplace of modern ironmaking, it has greatly lost population and deepened its aging. From 46,521 in 2000 to 32,078 in 2020, nearly three-tenths were lost over twenty years. As the ironmaking that supported the town shrank its scale within the waves of the times over iron, and the places to work dwindled, the younger generations moved to the cities in search of places to work. A town thickly supported by a single huge company finds it hard to hold the whole town’s population when that company’s scale shrinks. On a mountainous shore, it is not easy to newly create other large places to work, so the town can be read as having deeply lost population. Further, the great tsunami of 2011 dealt a wound, layered, upon the shoreside living. That the share aged 65 and over neared four-tenths at 39.8% in 2020, and that the household-with-children share is a low 14.5%, are expressions of that population structure.

On the other hand, the Childcare Waitlist was zero in both 2024 and 2025. The Fiscal Capacity Index of 0.48 is a level whose own tax revenue does not reach half of expenditure, with large reliance on the local allocation tax. It mirrors that, as a town of iron, after the scale of ironmaking shrank, its own tax base has its limit. The population fell by nearly three-tenths, aging nears four-tenths, and fiscal strength is weak. These numbers are differing cross-sections of one thread — a town of iron supported by a single huge company shrinking together with that iron. Even looking at the sharp population fall alone, you cannot see through to the company-town structure beneath it.

In Kamaishi several layers tied to iron and the sea overlap. One is its history as the ground where iron ore lay buried in the mountains and where, in 1857, iron was first tapped continuously in the country — leaving, as heritage of the world, the ruins of a mountain blast furnace that mark the beginning of the country’s modern ironmaking. Another is its character as a town of iron supported by a single huge company, a great modern ironworks built upon that beginning, where the town’s living turned around iron. And the mountainous landform facing the sea of the Sanriku coast layered, on this ground, the iron ore of the mountains and the shoreside living.

What draws strongly the curve of this town’s population is one thing only: iron. In 1857, in a mountain blast furnace, it succeeded ahead of the rest of the country in tapping iron continuously, and upon that beginning a great modern ironworks was built, and the town was supported by a single huge company. Workers and their families gathered, and living turned around iron. So, when the scale of ironmaking shrank in the waves of the times over iron, the whole town’s population too fell deeply along with it. The same ebb of iron lets go of the people whom the iron of the mountains called and gathered on the shore.