Mobility Days Stops Again, Flooded School Routes Remain, and a Composite Defense Base Moves in Kure—Who Benefits from Hiroshima’s ‘Infrastructure Priorities’?

Behind the Stopped Payment Terminals, Wet Shoes Await

Hiroshima Electric Railway’s cashless payment system, “Mobility Days,” has stopped again. Boarding a train or a bus—these ordinary actions are interrupted as the terminals fail to respond. Similar troubles were reported on October 23, 2024, indicating this is not the first occurrence. For users, it feels like “here we go again.” The system, which cost about 500 million yen to implement, is unstable as a device supporting daily transportation. This is not just a technical glitch; it quietly raises the question, “For whom is this infrastructure being developed?”

In the same Hiroshima, another scene unfolds. In flood-prone areas around Hatsukaichi City and Hiroshima City, school routes are submerged during heavy rains, forcing children to wade through water on their way to school. Land that was once rice paddies—places that had room to absorb water—has been developed into residential areas, with roads laid down, leaving no escape for the water. Although about 300 million yen has been invested in hard infrastructure, a fundamental review of the drainage structure has not taken place. The recurring flooding each year indicates that the issue lies not in the “quantity” of measures taken but in the “design philosophy” behind them.

Further south in Kure City, the development of a composite defense base is underway. The project is estimated to cost several hundred billion yen and is directly linked to national security policy.

The issues of payment terminal failures, flooded school routes, and the defense base may seem disparate at first glance. However, drawing a single line of connection changes the perspective: “Who benefits from this infrastructure?” In the face of this question, all three issues align on the same plane.

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Mobility Days—A Structure That Creates Inconvenience from a System Meant to Be Convenient

Mobility Days is a MaaS (Mobility as a Service) cashless payment platform introduced by Hiroshima Electric Railway. It aims for seamless fare payments across trains, buses, and trams, having been established with an investment of about 500 million yen. The concept is sound: enhancing the convenience of public transport and broadening the user base—one answer for the survival of transportation infrastructure in regional cities.

However, the system repeatedly fails. Reports of malfunctions are particularly prominent in the direction of Hatsukaichi City, leading users without cash to abandon their rides. Elderly individuals stand helplessly at bus stops, while commuters tap their smartphone screens repeatedly. Each of these scenes represents a moment when “the system leaves people behind.”

What needs to be questioned here is not the lack of technical capability or effort on the part of Hiroshima Electric Railway. Rather, the focus should be on how well the “design for when things go wrong” has been incorporated into the digitalization of public transport. Is there a sufficient fallback pathway? Is the guidance system for incidents reaching the field? The design philosophy of the system becomes evident not only when it is “operating” but also when it is “stopped.”

The figure of 500 million yen is not insignificant for local public transport operators. The current situation, where this investment is not being returned to citizens in the form of stable operations, touches on discussions beyond cost-effectiveness—it relates to the very “trust in public infrastructure.”

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Flooded School Routes—Water Teaches Us the “Memory of the Land”

In certain areas of Hatsukaichi City and western Hiroshima City, roads flood with each heavy rain. The most serious issue is the flooding of designated school routes. Among parents, comments like “On rainy days, boots are not enough” and “There are days when the water reaches my knees” are no longer surprising but are shared as daily reports.

Looking at the geographical background of this region reveals the underlying structure. Lowlands that were once rice fields or wetlands have been developed into residential areas, losing their “floodwater retention function.” Rainwater has nowhere to go and concentrates in the lowest areas—namely, the roads and school routes. Although about 300 million yen has been invested in drainage pumps and ditches, the design does not control the movement of water across the entire watershed. The accumulation of partial optimizations fails to achieve overall optimization.

The difficulty of flood control lies in the fact that damage occurs “slowly over the years.” A single major disaster can mobilize public opinion and secure budgets. However, damage classified as minor statistically, such as “getting knee-deep in water a few times a year,” often does not make it to the table where administrative priorities are set. The fact that children living there have wet shoes every year rarely makes it onto the agenda.

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Kure’s Composite Defense Base—The Discrepancy Between “National Logic” and “Local Time”

The development of the composite defense base in Kure City is positioned as part of the national security strategy. It has gained renewed attention in the context of strengthening defense capabilities in the southwest, following the cabinet decision at the end of 2022 regarding the “National Security Strategy” and the “Defense Capability Development Plan,” which highlights Kure’s geographical and historical military port functions. The project is expected to cost several hundred billion yen, with some voices expressing hopes for its economic ripple effects on the local economy, while complex feelings among residents persist.

“Defense may be necessary. But who will fix the clogged drainage ditch in front of my house?”—Such sentiments reflect a sense of dissonance regarding the “discrepancy in priorities” rather than outright opposition to defense facilities. National security and local living infrastructure are not inherently comparable. The sources of funding and the decision-making entities differ. Defense budgets come from the national general account, while flood control measures for school routes are funded by local civil engineering budgets—given the different wallets, it cannot simply be a matter of “cutting defense spending to fix drainage ditches.”

However, the landscape as seen by residents is different. A facility costing several hundred billion yen is being built in their town. Meanwhile, children walk through water to get to school. Payment terminals stop working, preventing them from boarding buses. This “disparity in the landscape” breeds distrust that cannot be filled by institutional explanations. The essence of the problem lies not in the appropriateness of budget allocations but in the obscurity of “whose troubles are addressed by which system and in what order.”

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The Absence of a System—Is There a “Table for Setting Priorities”?

What becomes clear when placing these three issues side by side is a structural challenge in Hiroshima: the “system for sharing infrastructure priorities with residents” is not functioning adequately.

The issues with Mobility Days fall within the realm of a private operator, Hiroshima Electric Railway. Flood control measures are the domain of the civil engineering administrations of Hiroshima City and Hatsukaichi City. The defense base is part of national security policy. Each decision-making process occurs at separate tables and operates under different logics. While residents share a single life, the decision-making for the infrastructure supporting that life is fragmented.

This fragmentation is partly unavoidable due to the administrative structure. However, this is precisely why there is a need for a function that connects these fragmented decision-making processes through the lens of “residents’ lives.” Comprehensive plans and urban planning master plans should fulfill this role, but how well they connect with the “lived experiences of residents” is where the gap in the system lies.

It is not about the amount of the budget. The defense facility costing several hundred billion yen, the 500 million yen payment system, and the 300 million yen drainage improvement. Priorities are not determined by the size of the amounts. What is being questioned is whether the inquiry, “How does this investment change someone’s daily life?” is incorporated into the decision-making process.

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Future Points of Attention—Continuing to Observe Whether It Reaches

Moving forward, three points should be closely monitored:

First, the transparency of the response to Mobility Days’ issues and measures to prevent recurrence. To what extent will the analysis of the causes of malfunctions and improvement measures be disclosed to users? The digitalization of public transport is an irreversible trend, but its trust will be determined by the “response after it stops.”

Second, the introduction of watershed management perspectives in flood-prone areas. How much will the concept of “watershed management,” which controls the movement of water across the entire watershed rather than accumulating partial hard improvements, be reflected in the plans of Hiroshima City and Hatsukaichi City? Collaboration with the watershed management project promoted by the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism will also be key.

Third, the quality of dialogue with residents regarding the Kure composite defense base. It is not about the number of explanatory meetings but whether a “circuit for responding as a system” is designed to address residents’ questions. Dialogue that aligns with the local timeline, rather than formal consensus-building, is required.

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Infrastructure is not an end in itself; it is the “backstage” that supports people’s lives. Therefore, the system for determining priorities must reflect the temperature of the field. The time of people standing helplessly at a bus stop with a non-functioning terminal, the weight of children’s shoes walking through water—whether that tactile reality reaches the decision-making table is what needs to be continually questioned, ensuring a slightly more certain future for this region.