A Shadow Over the Sacred Peak: The Crisis Overtourism Has Brought

Mount Fuji is not merely Japan’s highest mountain. Revered since ancient times and a wellspring of artistic inspiration, it was inscribed on UNESCO’s World Cultural Heritage list in 2013 as “Fujisan, sacred place and source of artistic inspiration.” Drawn by its universal value and easy access from the Tokyo metropolitan area, visitors from Japan and abroad have flocked there in great numbers. Yet its fame and popularity have proven a double-edged sword, pushing the mountain into crisis. As the COVID-19 pandemic waned and global travel resumed, simmering problems flared up all at once.

In the 2023 summer climbing season, the number of climbers reached about 221,000, recovering to pre-pandemic levels. This surge far exceeded the capacity of the mountain’s infrastructure and environment. The trails leading to the summit were packed with people lining up to see the sunrise, causing severe “trail traffic jams.” Mountain huts overflowed with climbers arriving without reservations; some even napped in toilets and passageways, plunging the site into chaos. A place that should have been a sacred pilgrimage destination lost its quiet and dignity—so much so that some stakeholders warned that “Mount Fuji is crying out.”

At the core of this unprecedented congestion was the widespread practice of “bullet climbing,” an extremely dangerous style of ascent. Bullet climbing refers to pushing from the 5th Station to the summit overnight without staying at a mountain hut, catching the sunrise, and descending immediately. Skipping adequate rest and acclimatization exposes climbers to serious risks.

First, the risk of altitude sickness rises sharply. The summit of Fuji, at 3,776 meters, is a low-pressure, low-oxygen environment; without acclimatization, climbers can experience headaches, nausea, and dizziness. Sleep deprivation severely drains stamina and greatly increases the incidence of altitude sickness. Second is hypothermia. In summer, summit temperatures can drop below freezing. Lightly equipped bullet climbers, already fatigued, face a high risk of life-threatening hypothermia. Third, the risks of falls, slips, and rockfall increase. On dark night trails, poor visibility and fatigue-induced loss of focus make missteps and rockfall more likely. In fact, there have been fatal cardiac events attributed to exhaustion, as well as deaths and serious injuries from falls and rockfall.

The problem lay not only in visitor numbers but also in the quality of visitors—those who lacked respect for the mountain and arrived ill-prepared. After World Heritage inscription boosted Fuji’s global profile, more tourists—unlike traditional pilgrims and experienced climbers—began treating the mountain as a mere “activity to tick off.” Many attempted the climb in streetwear—T-shirts and sandals—leading to more rescue calls. This situation not only undermined Fuji’s cultural value but also endangered climbers themselves, making sweeping government measures unavoidable. The essence of the crisis lay less in sheer numbers than in the spread of low-quality tourism typified by dangerous bullet climbing.

2025, A Historic Turn: The Full Picture of Fuji’s New Climbing Rules

In response to the overtourism crisis, Yamanashi and Shizuoka Prefectures—joint stewards of Mount Fuji—made a historic decision in 2025 to pivot from largely voluntary requests to legally binding regulations. This marked a major turning point in Fuji’s management and a groundbreaking effort that finally aligned the two prefectures, whose approaches had long been out of step.

Until now, the most popular Yoshida Route fell under Yamanashi’s jurisdiction, while Shizuoka managed the Fujinomiya, Gotemba, and Subashiri routes. Coordination was a persistent challenge. In the 2024 season, Yamanashi took the lead, imposing strict measures on the Yoshida Route: a mandatory 2,000-yen toll per person, a daily cap of 4,000 climbers, and nighttime access restrictions. Shizuoka, however, did not follow suit at the time, raising concerns about a “balloon effect,” with climbers flocking to Shizuoka’s routes to evade restrictions.

Behind this asymmetry lay differences in land ownership. The 5th-Station trailhead for the Yoshida Route sits on prefectural land, allowing Yamanashi to manage it as a facility and collect fees under local ordinance. In contrast, Shizuoka’s three trailheads are not on prefectural land and have multiple access points, making physical gates and fee collection structurally difficult.

Confronted by 2024’s realities and a shared goal of preserving Fuji’s value, the two prefectures finally coordinated. Starting from the 2025 summer season, they introduced largely unified rules across the mountain, built on three pillars:

• Unified, mandatory entrance fee. From 2025, all four routes require a 4,000-yen entrance fee (treated as a toll on the Yamanashi side) per climber per visit. This integrates and replaces the previously voluntary 1,000-yen “Fuji Conservation Contribution.” Revenue funds safety measures, expanded support for international visitors, and environmental conservation. Beyond funding, it signals a philosophical shift: climbing carries responsibilities and costs.




• Strict nighttime restrictions to eliminate bullet climbing. Without a confirmed mountain-hut reservation, climbers are in principle prohibited from ascending above the 5th Station from 2:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. On the Yoshida Route, a gate at the 5th Station closes during these hours; Shizuoka’s trailheads also verify hut bookings. This effectively shuts down the most dangerous bullet-climbing pattern—entering in the evening and pushing through the night.




• Pre-registration and e-learning. Especially on the Shizuoka side, online pre-registration via the official app (e.g., “Shizuoka FUJI NAVI”) is mandatory. Crucially, this is more than a booking tool: as part of registration, climbers must complete online learning on rules, etiquette, and safety, and pass a short quiz before receiving a QR code that serves as an entry permit. It’s an educational approach tackling the root problem of unprepared climbers.

These rules directly address issues documented in 2024 and exemplify data-driven policymaking. With long-sought cooperation finally in place, Fuji has moved from relying on goodwill to a sustainable regime under clear, enforceable rules.

Mixed Reactions: How the New System Affects Climbers and Communities

The 2025 rules transformed the mountain, eliciting varied reactions. The most striking success was the near eradication of bullet climbing. Nighttime restrictions worked, and dangerous forced marches plummeted—restoring safety and order to levels rarely seen.

Mountain-hut operators, who welcome climbers on site, widely praised the changes. One hut owner called 2025 “an exceptional year,” noting that climber flow spread more evenly over the day, smoothing operations. The chaos of walk-ins flooding huts disappeared, letting facilities refocus on their core role: a safe place to rest. Authorities also highlighted the absence of major incidents like fatalities throughout the season as a major achievement.

Reactions among climbers—especially international visitors—were more nuanced. The 4,000-yen (about US$27) fee sparked lively debate on social media and forums. Many experienced hikers and travelers accepted the fee, seeing it as a fair price for trail maintenance, safety measures, and—above all—for discouraging ill-prepared climbers. To them, the system acts as a filter to raise the quality of climbing.

Students and budget travelers, however, criticized it as too expensive. Some skeptics argued that authorities were conflating overtourism with a rise in foreign visitors and using fees as a pretext. This discourse sometimes risked scapegoating foreign tourists. That said, comparable conservation/entry fees at places like Machu Picchu and the Galápagos suggest Fuji’s approach aligns with a global shift toward sustainable tourism.

Economically, fears of a sharp drop in climber numbers proved overstated. The 2025 season saw only a slight year-over-year decline, viewed less as damage to tourism and more as beneficial decongestion. On the revenue side, Shizuoka alone expects over 400 million yen from entrance fees, securing a stable funding base for future safety and conservation efforts.

Overall, the 2025 reforms did more than cap numbers—they improved quality. The fee, pre-learning, and related steps deterred casual, ill-prepared attempts and favored well-equipped, committed climbers. As a result, Fuji is regaining a safer, quieter, and more reverent environment—closer to what it should be. That is a meaningful step forward for everyone involved with the mountain.

The Future of Fuji: A Path to Sustainable Tourism

The comprehensive regulations introduced in 2025 were a decisive first step against overtourism. Stakeholders, however, see them not as an endpoint but as a new starting line toward sustainable tourism. Looking ahead, the vision extends far beyond summit management.

Central to future strategy are “dispersing visitation” and “diversifying experiences.” As Yamanashi Governor Kotaro Nagasaki notes, Fuji’s allure is not limited to sunrise views from the summit. From routes tracing the historic Fujiko pilgrim culture to the Fuji Five Lakes, rich natural areas, and historic shrines and temples around the foothills, Fuji holds many layers of value. The challenge now is to shift focus from a summit-centric experience to these broader regions—reducing pressure on the peak while enabling deeper encounters with Fuji’s cultural and historical dimensions. This is an attempt to rebrand Fuji from a site of pure physical challenge to one of rich, multilayered cultural experience.

The 2025 system itself is not final. Officials acknowledge the need for continuous improvement based on lessons from the first year—enhancing the convenience of online registration, increasing transparency over how entrance fees are used, and refining off-season safety management, among other tasks. Reform here is not a one-off event but an ongoing iterative process.

Fuji’s efforts are drawing international attention. Many foreign media outlets joined pilot runs before full rollout, signaling global interest. The Fuji case is being watched as an advanced case study in tackling overtourism—an issue common to cultural heritage sites and national parks worldwide. It asks a modern, universal question: how to balance the desire for everyone to experience an iconic place with the duty to preserve its cultural and environmental value for future generations.

Japan has many destinations suffering similar strains—Kyoto, Kamakura, and more. The fact that such far-reaching regulations succeeded at Japan’s most sacred symbol, Mount Fuji, provides a powerful precedent for other municipalities facing the same challenges. Fuji’s new approach could be the vanguard of a national shift in tourism policy—from disorderly growth to a new stage that prioritizes quality and sustainability. The 2025 reforms suggest that Mount Fuji is not only a symbol of Japan but also a compass pointing toward the future of tourism.