Japan is facing an unprecedented surge in bear attacks, with a record number of fatalities and injuries reported in 2025. Since April, at least 13 people have lost their lives and more than 100 have been injured in encounters with bears across the country, according to government figures cited by CNN. These are the highest numbers since records began in 2006, and the crisis has not only alarmed residents but also drawn international attention, prompting the British government to update its travel advisory for Japan.
The situation has become so severe that, on November 6, Japanese soldiers were deployed to Akita prefecture, a mountainous region in the north known for its lush forests and, lately, a worrying concentration of bear attacks. Akita Governor Kenta Suzuki acknowledged the gravity of the crisis in a widely shared Instagram post last month, stating, “The situation has already surpassed what the prefecture and municipalities can handle on their own, and exhaustion on the ground is reaching its limit.”
Military involvement, however, comes with strict limitations. Under Japanese law, the Self-Defense Forces cannot cull bears. Instead, their role is to provide logistical support: setting up traps, transporting carcasses shot by licensed hunters, and helping local authorities manage the mounting workload. The actual culling of bears is reserved for licensed hunters and local hunting associations, but this solution is under strain. As reported by Reuters and CNN, these groups are shrinking and aging rapidly, raising concerns about their ability to cope with the increasing threat.
With the traditional hunting force dwindling, the government has authorized new measures. The National Police Agency announced that riot police would be permitted to shoot bears in residential areas of Akita and neighboring Iwate prefectures when hunters can’t respond quickly enough. Local governments are also turning to technology, considering the use of AI-equipped surveillance cameras and drone-based alert systems to detect and deter bears. In Gifu prefecture, a novel approach is being tested: drones that play the sound of barking dogs and fireworks in hopes of scaring the animals away.
Residents’ anxiety is palpable. In Akita, many now rattle their door handles before stepping outside, a ritual meant to warn off any lurking bears. Fewer people are venturing out for camping and picnics, especially as autumn’s cool weather—once an invitation to enjoy the outdoors—now brings heightened risk. According to NHK, city staff have distributed flyers urging people not to leave food unattended, and authorities have stepped up patrols in high-risk areas.
The attacks have not been confined to remote forests. In October, a bear entered a supermarket in central Japan and attacked shoppers, while a Spanish tourist was scratched by a cub at a heritage site. A trail runner in the woods found himself wrestling a bear before managing to escape. And just this week, a man in his 50s was slashed on the head by a bear in Fukushima’s Aizubange town, escaping with non-life-threatening injuries after seeking refuge in a nearby house, as reported by local police to The Guardian. Earlier that week, another elderly resident was attacked in the same neighborhood, further fueling the sense of panic.
Why are bear attacks suddenly on the rise? Experts point to a confluence of factors. Climate change is altering the landscape and the seasonal rhythms of wildlife. Poor acorn harvests this year, as noted by the Ministry of Environment, have driven bears to seek food closer to human settlements—mirroring a similar spike in 2023. Warmer winters, some studies suggest, are delaying hibernation and extending the period during which bears forage, increasing the chances of encounters with people.
Japan’s shifting demographics are also at play. As younger generations migrate to cities, rural areas are left with a shrinking, aging population. Abandoned farmland, overgrown gardens, and empty homes provide ideal hiding and foraging spots for bears. Forestry official Kimitoshi Kishino explained to Reuters that “overgrown yards around empty houses make people uneasy,” and local authorities often struggle to clear private properties without the owners’ consent.
Population trends among bears themselves contribute to the problem. Thanks to environmental protections introduced in the 1990s, bear numbers have rebounded dramatically. The brown bear population in Hokkaido has more than doubled in the past 30 years, reaching approximately 12,000. Meanwhile, the Asiatic black bear population on Honshu has increased 1.4 times since 2003, now numbering over 42,000. In Akita alone, bear sightings have jumped more than sixfold this year to over 8,000, government data show. The Asiatic black bear, globally listed as a vulnerable species, has tripled in number since 2012, helped by hunting restrictions and milder winters that lengthen foraging seasons.
As bears venture increasingly into urban environments, sightings have been reported in and around major cities like Kyoto and Tokyo. The Japanese Environment Ministry is now reviewing its bear management strategies, urging residents in high-risk areas to harvest fruit trees, avoid leaving food waste outdoors, and carry bells or noisemakers when near forests.
Amid these challenges, advice from experts can be life-saving. Hajime Nakae, professor of emergency and critical medicine at Akita University Hospital and Japan’s leading authority on treating bear attack victims, offers this guidance: “If you encounter a bear, back away slowly while still facing the animal.” He warns that turning your back may provoke an aggressive attack, as bears can interpret this as a sign that you are still ready to fight back. “Bears tend to leave once they sense their opponent won’t resist and that they’re stronger,” Nakae explains. He also recommends making noise, attaching bells to bags, and avoiding hiking alone—especially at dusk and dawn.
For those who have survived attacks, the trauma lingers. Japanese confectioner Keiji Minatoya recounted to Reuters his harrowing 2023 encounter: “We locked eyes in silence,” he said, recalling the moment he realized he had trapped a bear in his outbuilding. The animal mauled him, leaving deep gashes on his face and body and nearly scalping him before running off. Emergency services airlifted him 60 kilometers to Akita city, saving his life. Minatoya has since argued that “authorities must be ruthless with bears that no longer fear human settlements.”
Yet, not everyone agrees on the solution. Japan’s relationship with bears is complicated by deep cultural roots. In some regions, black bears are revered as mountain deities, reflecting the Shinto and Buddhist traditions that emphasize respect for life and nature. Conservation groups like Kumamori, which claims 21,000 members, have called for non-lethal measures and habitat restoration, urging the government to help bears return to their natural environments. The Hokkaido Bear Research Society similarly opposes expanded culling except for legitimate hunting purposes.
As the climate crisis deepens and demographic shifts continue, Japan is bracing for what may become a new normal: spikes in human-bear encounters each fall and spring. “Two years ago, the number of incidents dropped sharply once we entered November,” Governor Suzuki noted, expressing hope that this autumn’s peak will soon subside. For now, the country remains on high alert, caught between reverence for its wildlife and the urgent need to protect its people.
