In the deep south of the Japanese archipelago,

In the deep south of the Japanese archipelago, I find myself this week on the islands of Ishigaki and Iriomote, accompanied by colleagues and friends.

It’s my first time visiting this part of Japan, and all my senses are heightened, absorbing the striking contrasts in both landscape and social organization. Ishigaki feels urban and heavily geared toward tourism—its old arcade has transformed into a bustling tourist thoroughfare, and the once-vibrant fish market now serves burgers and other casual eats. The island also bears a noticeable military presence, with both the U.S. Navy and the Japanese Defense Force stationed here. Yet, just a 40-minute ferry ride away, Iriomote feels like a completely different world.

Lush and largely untouched by mainstream tourist development, thanks to the strong resistance of its local community, Iriomote has rightfully earned its status as a UNESCO World Natural Heritage site. My colleague Aoi-san, who has spent 15 years conducting research on the island, has opened doors to unique experiences for us through her deep connections. One highlight was a full-day trip on a traditionally crafted sabani boat made by Kyoko-san, a remarkable woman who was taught the rare art of Iriomote sabani building. With only three other individuals on the island possessing this knowledge, there is immense pressure to preserve and pass on the craft, even to outsiders like Kyoko-san. We paddled through a breathtaking bay, ventured into a serene mangrove forest, and enjoyed a hearty bento lunch on the beach—a truly immersive experience.

However, the UNESCO recognition comes with its complexities. While it brings prestige, it also imposes stricter regulations that have limited locals’ access to certain areas. Tourist numbers are now controlled, with caps on visits to specific natural sites, like waterfalls, and smaller businesses face challenges complying with UNESCO requirements, such as the need to register as officially approved tour guides. Many islanders remain skeptical about the benefits of UNESCO designation, wary of becoming an overdeveloped tourist hub like Ishigaki or Okinawa. They fear their small ferries and limited infrastructure could be overwhelmed by an influx of visitors. In the past, the community has successfully resisted large-scale tourist resort developments, and the island’s lack of an airport or hospital has helped keep mass tourism at bay—for now.

Iriomote is otherworldly, and as cliche as it sounds, I found it to be an extraordinary place unlike any I’ve ever visited. It stands as a testament to what we must fight to preserve in the Anthropocene era—a fragile yet resilient ecosystem, a unique cultural heritage, and a way of life that resists the pressures of mass tourism.

This island is a reminder of the delicate balance between conservation and progress, and the importance of protecting such habitats for generations to come.