The site of Tokyo’s internationally adored Tsukiji fish market, once a bustling epicenter for seafood trade and famed for its tuna auctions, is about to undergo a transformative redevelopment. Nearly six years after its demolition, plans are now in place to replace this historic landmark with a scenic waterfront stadium and glistening skyscrapers. Not everyone, however, is thrilled about this vision. The plan has garnered notable opposition, with some Tokyoites clamoring for a green garden space instead.
For now, the sprawling 190,000 square-meter area, roughly the size of 35 football fields, remains a vast expanse of cement punctuated by a few construction machines and a small excavated area. This space, once brimming with pre-dawn activity as vendors dealt in fresher-than-fresh sushi, today stands starkly vacant. Nearby, the “Jogai” or “Outer area” of the market, continues to thrive. This quaint “Retro” area, packed with sushi and ice cream stalls, will remain untouched, juxtaposing the modern development set to rise next door.
The initial fish market functions were moved in 2018 to Toyosu, a more modern facility located elsewhere in Tokyo Bay. After the original market’s demolition, the emptied lot briefly found a new purpose, serving as parking during the Tokyo Olympics—a year delayed to 2021 due to the pandemic. This temporary use is but a footnote in the site’s storied history, as the redevelopment seeks to reinvigorate the area by connecting ferries on the city’s rivers and Tokyo Bay with subway lines. The new project aims to become a linchpin for international conventions, trade shows, and tourism.
Despite these ambitious plans, opposition remains vocal. Critics argue that building skyscrapers will exacerbate pollution issues and detract from the historical and cultural legacy of the area. Some groups in Tokyo had previously opposed relocating the century-old fish market to Toyosu, and their concerns persist. Christian Dimmer, a professor of urban studies at Waseda University, contends that the fish market should have remained in its original location. He believes developers should have leveraged the historical significance of the site to enhance Tokyo’s multifaceted charm.
Dimmer also questions the sustainability of the redevelopment model. He argues that replacing the fish market with luxury housing, hotels, shopping, and entertainment complexes will render central Tokyo less dynamic and more mono-functional. Despite these concerns, Tokyo’s “scrap-and-build” approach to development remains largely unchallenged. The debate over Tsukiji’s future underscores broader questions about urban planning and sustainability, raising the stakes for a city that constantly seeks to balance progress with preservation.
As Tokyo moves forward with the redevelopment of the Tsukiji site, the world watches with bated breath. Will the city’s leaders manage to create a new landmark that respects the past while embracing the future, or will it stand as another symbol of lost heritage? Only time will tell, but for now, the saga of Tsukiji continues to unfold, one blueprint at a time.
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