For a long time, Japan’s railways have been regarded as something akin to a national religion. Within seconds of their scheduled arrival times, trains arrive. With the gravity of air traffic controllers, station employees call and point their way through departure procedures. Additionally, the operator formally apologizes to the public when a Shinkansen departs twenty seconds early, not late. That is the standard expectation.
Thus, it should come as no surprise that Kyoto University ornithologists have been speaking with Central Japan Railway, the company that built the famous Tokaido Shinkansen. Not in terms of speed. Not in relation to engineering. Concerning birds.
Until you look at the actual numbers, it seems strange. Throughout Japan’s extensive network, bird strikes and avian intrusions on rail corridors are a silent but recurring source of service interruption. The large-billed jungle crow, which is common in urban Japan, is one of the most intelligent and inconvenient crows. They have been known to activate emergency braking systems, drop objects onto tracks, and nest in overhead line equipment. A crow sitting on the wrong piece of infrastructure at the wrong time is actually a problem worth fixing on a network where a five-minute delay is deemed noteworthy.
Most people are unaware of the longer tradition that exists here. Engineering circles are familiar with the well-known tale of Eiji Nakatsu, the birdwatching engineer who redesigned the Shinkansen’s nose after noticing how kingfishers enter water without splashing. In addition to resolving the disruptive tunnel boom issue, that redesign improved the train’s speed, energy efficiency, and quietness. The blueprint came from nature. It was followed by the railway. This precedent is significant because it established institutional and cultural acceptance of ornithology as a valuable engineering resource.
Though on a different scale, what Central Japan Railway seems to be doing now makes sense. The railway is bringing in formal academic expertise to study bird behavior patterns along specific corridors, as opposed to one engineer’s personal birdwatching hobby leading to a breakthrough. The ornithology department at Kyoto University has a long history of studying avian ecology in central Honshu, the region that the Tokaido Shinkansen passes through on a daily basis. Engineering manuals lack this kind of localized behavioral knowledge, such as knowing when crows are most active, where they congregate, and what attracts them to rail infrastructure.
The precise interventions that will result from the partnership are still unknown. Options include physical deterrents based on species-specific behavior rather than general bird-proofing techniques, as well as modified maintenance schedules during the busiest nesting seasons. Additionally, there’s a good chance that the data will show patterns that no one anticipated, such as the fact that some delays that were previously reported as equipment anomalies were actually caused by birds or that specific sections of track are more susceptible than the overall figures indicate.
It’s difficult to ignore how the Shinkansen cuts through ecosystems just as much as it cuts through distance when traveling through the countryside between Nagoya and Kyoto. Rail lines pass directly through these habitats, which include rice paddies, river corridors, and forested hillsides. Whether it recognized it or not, the railway has always coexisted with this terrain. In a way, consulting ornithologists is simply making that coexistence more intentional.
Japan has an exceptional record for rail punctuality; on average, each train on the Tokaido Shinkansen is delayed by about 0.9 minutes each year, which is almost insignificant when compared to systems in Europe and the United States. It is necessary to address issues that don’t always show up in the obvious places in order to protect that record. Passenger congestion can occasionally pose a threat. Aging infrastructure can be the cause at times. Occasionally, a crow may decide that a signal gantry would be a great location for a nest.
In a subtle way, the willingness to consult a bird scientist and take the discussion seriously sums up how Japan has been able to sustain those numbers for many years.
