Can Robots Save Japan’s Aging Cherry Blossom Farmers?

Can Robots Save Japan’s Aging Cherry Blossom Farmers?

Then the farmers of Nishikawa waited. November came and went. In a nation that has made punctuality a high art form, the delay was embarrassing. Pochi finally arrived on Christmas Day, a cheery yellow container on wheels that looks less like a sophisticated robot and more like an oversized Lego construction. The price tag was about $15,000.

Since then, well, that’s the story. For all the buildup and excitement from robot boosters and local politicians from Yamagata Prefecture eager to uncork central government funds for rural revitalization, Pochi has mostly slumbered unloved in a corner of a greenhouse. The prevailing attitude toward the robot, which can negotiate mountain terrain and carry 600 pounds, was encapsulated by Hideki Shida, 84, another Nishikawa farmer. Even as Mr. Kaneko showed off how Pochi, with the slightest flick of a wrist, followed him like an obedient dog, Mr. Shida trundled past conspicuously, pushing stacks of cherry blossoms on a metal cart, his body angled with effort.

“I do things the old way,” he said, casting a dismissive look at Pochi.

Not one of Mr. Shida’s three children is a farmer. He is widowed. He lives alone and farms alone, hiking up to his mountain fields to shovel the sakura out of the snow.

Not so long ago, Nishikawa slumbered in the snow. Mr. Kaneko’s parents remember how the family farmhouse in the mountains above the town was inaccessible for months at a time, even into the early 1970s. The only way to get anywhere was by sled.

By the 1980s, Nishikawa, like much of the rest of Japan, had grown fast. Families moved to the snowy backcountry, eager to cultivate farmland. Japan’s agricultural ministry helped to protect them from overseas competition. Throughout rural Japan, cement mixers churned to make roads, tunnels and bridges. Yamagata Prefecture — Yamagata means “mountain shape” — dedicated itself to growing luxury crops, like La France pears and perfect cherries. Japan’s boom times were symbolized by the $100 melon, a literal fruit of postwar prosperity.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *