One Year After the Noto Peninsula Earthquake and Its Fragile Lessons

(Warning: This article on the Noto earthquake contains references to suicide.)

One year ago on January 1, 2024, the Noto region of Ishikawa Prefecture was shaken by a magnitude 7.6 earthquake. The physical scars were immediate and undeniable ー collapsed homes, severed roads, and fractured communities. One year later, the lingering threats of isolation, mental health struggles, and cultural loss pose as much danger as the initial event.

It is this aspect, what I call the "hidden toll" of the Noto Peninsula Earthquake, that I would like to address here. I will focus on the mental health challenges, such as suicides, and the cultural erosion that continues to affect the region. Additionally, I will also explore how society's response to disasters often falls short in addressing these long-term impacts and what can be done to prevent further tragedies.

While official reports confirm the deaths of over 220 individuals, the unspoken toll continues to grow. "Disaster-related deaths," a euphemism for suicide, including those caused by stress, illness, and isolation, often surpass the number of lives claimed by the disaster itself. This is true in Noto's case as well. Suicides in these affected regions have emerged as a silent, creeping epidemic.

The Hidden Crisis of Isolation and Suicide

Traveling through the Noto Peninsula as a member of the disaster relief organization Civic Force in the weeks following the earthquake, I was struck not just by the physical destruction but by the silent exhaustion of the community. For many survivors, the greatest threat lay not in the rubble but in the isolation that followed. The temporary housing settlements, often filled with elderly residents, became microcosms of loneliness.

One elderly man told me he had not seen his neighbors in days, though they lived only meters apart. "We used to talk at the local market," he said. "I don't know where they are or if they're okay. I don't want to bother anyone."

His words echoed across many interactions. The survivors were physically present but emotionally adrift, uncertain about the present and ever more worried about the future.

*Rubble strewn across a road in Noto (courtesy of Ami Eldridge).*

This isolation creates fertile ground for mental health struggles to take root. Survivors of past disasters have shown higher rates of depression and suicidal ideation. In Noto, the cracks left in the community extend beyond roads and buildings, threatening the very social fabric that once held it together. Without intervention, these invisible fractures risk widening until they can no longer be repaired.

Cultural Deaths: Losing More Than Lives

Disasters do not only destroy lives, they threaten the cultural identity of affected regions. Local traditions, crafts, and community festivals have long been the threads that bind people together in Noto. With homes, gathering places, and historical landmarks reduced to rubble, there is a sense of cultural death.

Survivors often grapple with the loss of more than their homes. Community centers where dances and celebrations once took place lie in ruins. Temples that stood for centuries now face slow reconstruction or abandonment. The rituals that once connected generations risk being lost as younger survivors migrate away in search of stability.

A small cafe owner in Suzu, displaced to Kanazawa, spoke to me about this disconnection. "It's not just my cafe that's gone," she said. "More than that, it's the space we created — where we shared stories and passed down recipes. I worry we'll lose that forever." Her sentiment speaks to a broader concern. Cultural death is not sudden.

A Failing of Society

The most heartbreaking realization from my time in Noto is how preventable many of these losses are. Disasters, by nature, are unavoidable. But the secondary tragedies ー the suicides, the cultural erosion, the lingering despair — reflect a failure of society to protect its most vulnerable.

History should have taught us this lesson. After the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake (1995), hundreds of survivors died alone in temporary housing. Following the Great East Japan Earthquake (2011), countless communities were permanently altered. It was not just by the physical force of the tsunami but by the psychological fallout. The percentage of those who died by kanrenshi (disaster-related deaths) after the series of earthquakes in Kumamoto in 2016 hit an all-time high.

*Houses in Noto (courtesy of Ami Eldridge).*

And yet, Noto, whose percentage of kanrenshi victims one year after the disaster is approaching that of Kumamoto's, stands as a stark reminder that we are still repeating the same mistakes.

Preventing the Next Invisible Disaster

Preventing these secondary disasters requires a shift in how we approach recovery. It is not enough to rebuild infrastructure. True recovery must address the emotional, cultural, and psychological needs of survivors.

Initiatives like Civic Force's ongoing community programs aim to fill this gap in Noto by fostering human connections and preserving cultural spaces. However, more widespread and sustained efforts are necessary. Support systems, counseling services, and cultural preservation projects must be prioritized alongside physical reconstruction.

Equally important is the role of memory. We cannot allow the lessons of Noto to fade as the months pass. Documenting survivor stories, creating memorials, and fostering dialogue about the hidden toll of disasters will help ensure that future responses also prioritize mental health and cultural preservation.

Holding On to What Matters

Reflecting on my time in Noto, I carry the weight of the stories I heard and the people I met. Their resilience is remarkable, but resilience alone should not be the expectation. Surviving takes more than the ability to withstand hardship. Each survivor deserves the support to rebuild not just their homes but their lives and communities.

Earthquakes will come again. But the secondary tragedies that follow are not inevitable. They are choices — or failures — that society makes. And if we continue to forget, we risk not just losing lives but losing the very essence of the communities that endure these disasters.

A year after Noto, the question we must ask is not only how we rebuild but how we ensure that no one is left behind in the quiet aftermath. I hope to have reminded people of the unspoken toll disasters leave behind.

SEEKING HELP? If you are in Japan and having trouble with mental health for any reason, including coping with disasters, anxiety, workplace harassment, bullying, pregnancy, or something else, someone is ready to help you in English at TELL Japan. Telephone (free dial inside Japan) 0800-300-8355 or chat online. Information about counseling services in English is also available on the US Embassy website. If you are outside of Japan, please check your national health authorities for guidance in your country.

Author: Ami Eldridge
Ami Eldridge is a JAPAN Forward contributor and the PR Manager at Civic Force, a nonprofit entity providing emergency aid and recovery support in Japan.