Why Japan is running out of rice — and farmers to grow it
Alex K.T. Martin

The Japan Times
When Genki Sakurai began working for his family’s rice farm 17 years ago, there were more than a dozen rice farmers in his neighborhood in the city of Nagaoka, Niigata Prefecture. Now, he says, only three remain.

“Rice producers don’t want to pass down an unprofitable business to their children,” says the 38-year-old Sakurai, the ninth-generation owner of a 300-year-old rice farm cultivating 24 hectares of the nationally recognized Koshihikari brand of rice.

“Rice prices were too low and farmers operate at a loss,” he continues. “So parents tell their children, ‘You’re better off becoming an office worker.’”

Now, Japan needs its rice farmers more than ever. A shortage of the national staple that began last summer has seen prices soar, prompting the government to tap its emergency stockpile for the first time to release 210,000 tons of rice in a bid to cover the shortfall and bring down prices.



While a combination of extreme heat, panic buying and rising inbound tourism is believed to be behind the phenomenon, other factors are also at play. For decades, the government’s rice acreage reduction policy has been subsidizing the conversion of rice paddies to low-supply items such as wheat and soybeans, based on the premise that demand for rice is falling as the Japanese diet westernizes and the population ages and shrinks.

Meanwhile, nearly 90% of individually managed farms are run by farmers over 60, and 70% of rice farms have no successor secured, according to the agricultural ministry. Japan’s arable rice paddies shrank to 2.32 million hectares in 2024, down from a peak of 3.39 million hectares in 1961. Tracking rice distribution has also become more difficult, as more farmers sell rice directly or within local networks rather than relying solely on collection agents for distribution, the largest by far being those run by the Japan Agricultural Cooperatives group (JA).

“Japanese farmers excel at production, but they have little control over pricing. While direct sales and other sales methods have been established, there are still issues and dissatisfaction in those areas,” Agriculture Minister Taku Eto said during a press conference last month.

“It’s predicted that the agricultural population will drop from 1.16 million to 300,000. We’re determined to reverse this trend,” he continued. “Given these circumstances, if current business practices continue, the burden on producers will become unsustainable, potentially causing production sites to collapse and putting food security at risk.”

The Reiwa rice crisis
The ongoing shortage, dubbed the “Reiwa rice crisis” by Japanese media in reference to the current calendar era, can be traced back to the record-hot summer of 2023.

Niigata, for example, the country’s leading prefecture in both total area of rice cultivation and total rice production, suffered scorching temperatures and a prolonged drought.

“There was no rainfall for over 30 days,” Sakurai recalls. “I’ve never experienced anything like it. An 80-something neighbor of mine said the same.”

Japan’s rice farming cycle typically begins in the spring with puddling preparation and seedling planting, followed by summer growth and water management, and culminates with the autumn harvest. In 2023, Sakurai explains that extreme heat reduced the ratio of first-grade rice. Rice grade is determined by factors that include the proportion of well-formed grains and the percentage of damaged grains, such as those with discoloration or cloudiness.



When high temperatures persist around the time the rice plants flower, from around mid-August to early September, cracks can form inside the grains, resulting in a higher proportion of damaged grains and leading to a lower milling yield. Since these subpar grains are removed during the distribution process, it led to a reduced supply for consumers that became evident in the summer of 2024.

Compounding the issue, a major earthquake struck off the coast of Miyazaki Prefecture in August, triggering the first-ever Nankai Trough megaquake advisory. This prompted panicked consumers to buy more rice than they did in the same month in 2023.

At the time, industry watchers believed the situation would resolve itself once rice was harvested in the fall. But here’s the twist: While Japan’s rice harvest in 2024 was 180,000 tons more than in 2023, the amount collected by entities like JA was 310,000 tons less than the previous year, leading the media to call the deficit “missing” rice.

‘Missing’ rice
Japan implemented a food control law in 1942, under which the government controlled the production, distribution and price of food, particularly rice, to ensure food security and stability. It was phased out in 1995 as the country’s agricultural policies evolved. Meanwhile, the entry of various players into the market, along with a rise in direct sales by farmers, has seen the share of rice collected by JA decrease over the years to around 50%.

The government initially claimed the shortage was partially due to intermediaries hoarding rice shipped directly by farmers for speculative purposes — bypassing collection agents like JA in the process. That alone doesn’t explain the large discrepancy, however.

Masayuki Ogawa, an assistant professor at Utsunomiya University in Tochigi Prefecture and expert on agricultural economics, says the shortfall can also be attributed to saki-gui, which refers to the consumption of rice intended for future use or distribution earlier than planned. In this case, it refers to rice from the 2024 harvest, which was supposed to be consumed from October.



On March 31, the agriculture ministry released the results of its investigation, revealing that direct sales of rice (skipping over the collection agents) had actually increased by 440,000 tons compared to the previous year, reaching a total of 2.37 million tons.

The situation was driven by active early direct purchasing, spurred by concerns over a potential rice shortage. As a result, retailers and the food service industry accumulated more inventory than usual. Farmers also increased the amount of rice they kept on hand.

In other words, there was no “missing” rice.

Meanwhile, the average price of a 5-kilogram bag of rice sold at supermarkets between March 17 and 23 rose to ¥4,197, according to data from the agriculture ministry. That marks the 12th consecutive week of price increases, with current prices more than double those of March last year. And on April 1, the agriculture ministry said approximately 70,000 tons of rice was sold to distributors in the second round of auctions, completing the sales of all 210,000 tons of rice released from the government’s stockpiles.

“Statistically, people might start noticing price differences around May or June,” says Ogawa, the author of a 2022 book titled “Japan’s Rice Problem.” “Instead of a uniform price drop, however, I expect there will be some variation.”



Rice reserves exist for food security rather than supermarket inventory management. As a result, they include various rice types, some of which may be unfamiliar to consumers.

“It’s unlikely that the price of rice in supermarkets will drop by ¥500 or ¥1,000 across the board,” Ogawa continues. “Blended rice may become cheaper, and there could be a mix of different regional varieties.

“Additionally, reserve rice isn’t only sold in supermarkets; it’s also available at ready-to-eat food chains and restaurants. That means a lot of it may end up in the food service industry, like in university cafeterias, which are struggling with high prices.”

Rural decline
A tangled web of factors contribute to Japan’s rice problem, including a decline in consumption, a decrease in farmers, unstable harvests due to climate change and the impact of acreage reduction policies.

The amount of rice consumed per person in the country has been declining since its peak of 118.3 kg in 1962. By 2022, it had fallen to 50.8 kg. Meanwhile, the number of rice farming households has steadily shrunk from about 4.66 million in 1970 to roughly 700,000 in 2020, according to JA. Similarly, rice production has slid from 12.53 million tons in 1970 to 6.79 million tons in 2024.

In mountainous Japan, where flat land is scarce, rice farming typically employs medium-sized machinery suited for smaller plots, typically around 0.3 to 0.5 hectares. In contrast, rice farming in the United States takes place on much larger plots, often around 10 hectares. Seeds are directly sown using airplanes, which leads to significant differences in farming methods and a substantial gap in efficiency.

Despite rising prices, the rice farming industry saw a record 42 cases of business failures in 2024, including six bankruptcies and 36 suspensions or closures, according to market research firm Teikoku Data Bank.



Rice farming has long been unprofitable, a reality exacerbated by inflation, the weak yen and the rising costs of imports. While the recent rice shortage has driven up advance payments proposed to rice farmers by JA, many producers are unable to afford seedbeds and essential equipment like tractors for the coming year.

“There’s concern about whether rice production will be sustainable in the future — it may be time to reconsider the acreage reduction policy,” says Shunpei Goto, a macroeconomic researcher at the Japan Research Institute.

Since 1971, the government has been setting annual production targets and allocating them by region to prevent an oversupply of rice and keep prices from falling. Although the policy was officially abolished in 2018, the government still issues production guidelines and offers subsidies to encourage crop rotation away from rice.

“As the number of producers decreases, we need to improve productivity in order to maintain production. This could involve mechanization, large-scale farming or finding ways to produce with fewer workers,” Goto says. “Instead of cutting back on production because of declining domestic demand, it’s better to focus on producing more with exports in mind.”

‘Peasant uprising’
Last Saturday, as cherry blossoms bloomed in Tokyo, farmers gathered for a demonstration they referred to as the “Peasant Uprising of the Reiwa Era” to raise awareness of how the situation at production sites hasn’t improved despite the historic surge in rice prices. Around 3,200 people participated, according to organizers, marching through the neighborhoods of Omotesando and Harajuku with about 30 tractors.



“Farmers have disappeared from Japan’s villages, the crops they once grew are gone, and now the villages themselves are on the verge of disappearing,” Yoshihide Kanno, a farmer in Yamagata Prefecture and the head of the organizing committee, said during a speech he gave at Aoyama Park.

“It’s clear that agriculture is on the brink of change — or rather, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it’s facing extinction. If we don’t do something about it, the ones who will be most affected won’t be the farmers, but the consumers.”

This past week, 5 kg packages of the Koshihikari variety of rice produced in Niigata were selling for ¥4,690 before tax at a supermarket in Tokyo’s Taito Ward. Nearby, stacks of Akitakomachi rice from Akita Prefecture were priced at ¥4,490. The government’s reserve rice had yet to appear on shelves.

“It’s surprisingly expensive, isn’t it?” says Takako Inoue, a shopper in her 40s. “I suppose it was too cheap before, but now it’s too pricey.”

Rice distribution analyst Hiroshi Tsunemoto says supermarkets have long used cheap rice as a way to attract customers, even if it meant selling at a loss.

“Consumers being accustomed to these low prices have contributed to the problem,” he says. “As a result, many farmers have been unable to turn a profit and have gone out of business.”



The recent surge in rice prices, then, could be a boon for producers — if the right balance is struck.

“If consumers accept 5 kg at, say, ¥3,000, we may see more farmers since, at that price, they could make a small profit,” says Tsunemoto, who also manages a rice store in Osaka.

More importantly, he says, consumers need to change their mindset and be more supportive of the farmers who produce the food on their table.

Sakurai, the rice farmer in Niigata Prefecture, says his revenue has increased due to the price hike but so have the costs of fertilizers necessary for production. If the release of the emergency stockpile or other factors push prices down while production costs remain high, he says, “I think we’ll see more people calling it quits. It’s like a game of Whac-A-Mole.”



And as a farmer producing Koshihikari, Japan’s most-recognized premium short-grain rice, he worries that consumers are forgetting the time and effort that go into cultivating these coveted varieties.

“Rice prices have surged across all regions,” he says. “Niigata is known for its premium brands, but its rice is being sold at almost the same price point as others with little to no difference.”

Though admittedly harsh, Sakurai likens it to consumers who go to Ginza’s upscale Mistukoshi department store only to end up buying mass-produced products over brand names. “It’s a harsh way of putting it ... but that’s the reality. There’s just not enough rice, and people are so desperate for it that they’ll buy anything.