Introduction: A Milestone in Hokkaido’s Wildlife Story
For the first time since record-keeping began in 1991, the brown bear population in Hokkaido, Japan, has decreased. As of the end of 2023, the estimated number of bears stands at 11,600—a drop of 500 from the previous year. This historic decline follows a record-breaking capture of 1,804 bears in the 2023 fiscal year. In response, the Hokkaido government has outlined an ambitious plan: reduce the bear population to 8,220 by 2034 by capturing 1,254 bears annually. Their aim? To rewind the clock to an era when bear sightings didn’t stir social unrest. But what does this mean for Hokkaido, its residents, and its iconic bears? Let’s explore the story behind the numbers.
Hokkaido: The Wild Heart of Japan
Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island, is a land of breathtaking beauty. Think rolling forests, rugged mountains, and winding rivers—a paradise for nature lovers. It’s also home to a unique subspecies of brown bear, known locally as the Ezo brown bear or Ussuri brown bear. These majestic creatures have roamed Hokkaido’s wilderness for centuries, shaping its ecosystem by controlling prey populations and dispersing seeds.
For the indigenous Ainu people, bears are more than wildlife—they’re sacred. The Ainu view bears as kamuy (deities), and their traditional Iomante ceremony honors the bear’s spirit by sacrificially sending it back to the divine realm. This reverence reflects a deep historical bond between humans and bears. Yet, as Hokkaido modernized and its population grew, this relationship shifted from coexistence to conflict.
(Mainichi News)
A Population Boom—and Bust
The Rise of the Bears
Since 1991, when systematic tracking began, Hokkaido’s bear population had been climbing steadily. This wasn’t always the case—decades ago, overhunting and habitat destruction had pushed these bears to the brink. Conservation efforts, including hunting restrictions and habitat protection, turned the tide. By the early 21st century, the bears were thriving, a testament to successful wildlife management.
But why the surge? Several factors fueled this growth:
- Conservation Success: Limits on hunting gave bear populations room to recover.
- Habitat Shifts: Urban sprawl and abandoned farmland (due to rural depopulation) created new spaces where bears could roam, often closer to human settlements.
- Food Dynamics: Climate change and forest management altered natural food availability, sometimes driving bears toward human sources like crops or garbage.
- Fewer Humans in the Wild: Hokkaido’s aging population and shrinking rural communities left more territory uncontested.
By 2022, the bear population hit an estimated 11,700—a peak that brought both pride and problems.
The 2023 Turning Point
Then came 2023: the first recorded decline. The population dipped to 11,600, thanks to the capture of 1,804 bears—the highest annual total ever. The Hokkaido Research Organization, which calculates these figures using a sophisticated dynamic model, attributes the drop directly to this aggressive capture effort. Regionally, the numbers break down like this:
- Hidaka-Yubari: 4,060 bears (the highest concentration)
- Eastern Hokkaido & Western Sorachi: 2,250 bears
- Oshima Peninsula: 2,120 bears
This decline marks a pivotal moment, but it’s only the beginning of a broader strategy.
Human-Bear Conflicts: When Nature Meets Nurture
The Growing Tension
A thriving bear population sounds like a win—until it isn’t. As bear numbers rose, so did their run-ins with humans. What started as occasional sightings evolved into a full-blown social issue:
- Property Damage: Bears rummaged through trash, broke into homes, and ravaged crops.
- Economic Strain: Farmers faced losses, and local governments spent heavily on bear management.
- Safety Risks: While rare, bear attacks posed a deadly threat.
The tipping point came on July 12, 2024, in Fukushima Town on the Oshima Peninsula. A man was fatally mauled by a bear in the early morning hours. Shockingly, despite multiple bear sightings in the days prior, no advisory had been issued. The tragedy sparked outrage and action: the Hokkaido government issued its first-ever bear alert and vowed to overhaul its warning system after consulting municipalities and experts.
Why the Increase in Encounters?
Bears don’t seek out humans—they’re drawn by opportunity. The Hokkaido Bear Countermeasures Office points to attractants like unsecured garbage and untended crops as key culprits. Add in overgrown underbrush near settlements (perfect bear hiding spots), and you’ve got a recipe for conflict. Climate change may also play a role, disrupting hibernation patterns and food availability, pushing bears into human territory more often.
The Government’s Plan: A Controversial Fix
The Numbers Game
To curb these conflicts, the Hokkaido government has a clear target: shrink the bear population to 8,220 by 2034. That’s a reduction of 3,380 bears over 11 years, achieved by capturing 1,254 annually. The logic is simple—fewer bears mean fewer problems. They’re aiming for a time, decades ago, when bear sightings were rare enough to be a curiosity, not a crisis.
The Debate
This plan isn’t universally cheered. Critics argue it’s a blunt instrument:
- Ecological Risks: Removing thousands of bears could disrupt Hokkaido’s ecosystem, affecting prey species and vegetation.
- Ethical Concerns: Captures often end in euthanasia, raising questions about the morality of mass culling.
- Root Causes Ignored?: Some say the focus on population control overlooks preventable issues like poor waste management or habitat overlap.
The Bear Countermeasures Office counters with a dual approach: captures plus prevention. They’re urging residents to secure attractants and mow undergrowth to make areas less bear-friendly. But will this balance conservation with safety—or tip the scales too far?
The Ainu Connection: A Cultural Lens
Bears aren’t just animals in Hokkaido—they’re cultural icons. For the Ainu, they embody a spiritual link between the human and divine worlds. The Iomante ceremony, though less common today, underscores this bond. A bear cub is raised with care, then sacrificed in a ritual that honors its spirit—a far cry from modern capture programs.
This cultural backdrop adds complexity. Any management plan must navigate not just science and safety, but respect for Ainu heritage. Could traditional knowledge, like coexistence practices, inform modern solutions? It’s a question worth asking.
Beyond the Headlines: What’s at Stake?
The Bigger Picture
Hokkaido’s bear saga is a microcosm of a global challenge: how do we share space with wildlife in a changing world? The island’s experience mirrors struggles in places like the U.S. (with grizzlies) or Europe (with reintroduced bears). It’s about more than numbers—it’s about coexistence.
Lessons from 2023
The Fukushima Town attack exposed flaws in the system. No advisory despite sightings? That’s a failure of communication and foresight. The government’s review is a start, but it needs teeth—better monitoring, faster alerts, and community education. Meanwhile, the record captures show intent, but sustainability matters more than short-term wins.
A Foreigner’s Perspective
For readers abroad, Hokkaido’s bears might evoke awe or curiosity. Imagine encountering a 500-pound bear on a hike—it’s thrilling until it’s not. In 2022 alone, Hokkaido logged over 2,000 bear sightings near human areas, per local reports. That’s a daily reality for many residents, not a nature documentary.
Looking Ahead: A Path to Harmony
The 2023 decline is a milestone, not a solution. To truly address Hokkaido’s bear challenge, a multifaceted strategy is key:
- Smarter Alerts: Real-time tracking and proactive warnings could prevent tragedies like Fukushima’s.
- Community Power: Teaching residents and tourists how to deter bears—think bear-proof bins and loud noises—shifts the burden from government to collective action.
- Habitat Focus: Preserving wild spaces with ample food reduces bears’ need to wander into towns.
- Cultural Respect: Engaging Ainu voices ensures solutions honor Hokkaido’s roots.
Hokkaido stands at a crossroads. Will it lean on captures alone, or weave a richer tapestry of prevention, education, and respect? The bears—and the people—deserve a future where both can thrive.
