TOKYO - Greater Bay Airlines, which resumed regular flights between Sendai and Hong Kong last December for the first time in 13 years, currently operates four round trips per week. However, starting this week and continuing through the end of October, the airline will reduce that to three weekly round trips due to declining travel demand. The number of flights to Tokushima will also be cut. What is behind this sudden downturn?
One cause appears to be a Japanese manga. The newly released complete edition of The Future I Saw, a comic once rumored to have predicted the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake, has stirred speculation. In the story, a character dreams that the Pacific side of Japan is swallowed by a massive tsunami in July. The manga has been widely shared online, fueling fears.
Adding to the anxiety, a feng shui master in Hong Kong predicted—without scientific basis—that a major earthquake would hit Japan this summer. As a result, a movement to avoid traveling to Japan has emerged in Hong Kong.
We asked Professor Mitsuru Fukuda from the College of Crisis Management at Nihon University to help unpack the situation.
"This is fiction, not a prophecy," said Fukuda. "From a scientific perspective, earthquakes cannot be predicted—neither in the short nor long term. They can only be evaluated statistically over time."
According to Fukuda, Japan frequently experiences typhoons and torrential rains in July, which means disasters of some kind are not uncommon during the summer. If one interprets the manga vaguely, such expectations could align with any seasonal calamity. But Fukuda stresses that no scientific evidence supports the idea of a massive tsunami hitting the Pacific coast in July, as the manga suggests.
In Hong Kong, the comic and the feng shui prediction have gained traction, particularly on social media platforms. As a result, actual demand for travel to Japan has decreased. In response, Greater Bay Airlines decided to reduce flights between Sendai, Tokushima, and Hong Kong through the end of October.
Reporter Ozaki from the Shanghai bureau confirmed that concerns about Japan's potential for a large-scale earthquake and tsunami have indeed spread across online forums, with some people choosing to cancel or postpone their trips.
"There's no scientific basis for these so-called predictions," Fukuda emphasized. "The problem lies in how society reacts."
Japan’s government has published long-term risk assessments for a Nankai Trough megathrust earthquake, and emergency alerts were issued last July and August. These real concerns may contribute to heightened public anxiety, making people more susceptible to misinformation.
One such example is the surge in bookings at a hotel called Misakaigetsu in Tokushima. The hotel, located on a mountaintop, is reportedly fully booked on July 4th—the day before the date predicted in the manga. According to hotel staff, this is highly unusual, and many of the reservations are from locals. Some believe people are booking rooms on higher ground to "evacuate" based on the rumor.
"This kind of behavior has happened many times before," said Fukuda. "Every time, the media and social networks amplify the story, society becomes unsettled, and yet nothing happens. Then, people forget, and the cycle repeats."
Last month, another earthquake prediction circulated online. It claimed a major quake would hit northern Tokyo Bay at precisely 2:58 p.m. on April 26th. The rumor spread so widely that Japan’s Cabinet Office posted a message on its official X (formerly Twitter) account two days before the date, stating that specifying the exact time and location of earthquakes is scientifically impossible.
"Even though most people know that earthquakes can't be predicted, rumors still spread," said commentator Kihara.
In Hong Kong, where feng shui is deeply rooted in culture, many people are influenced by such beliefs. As a result, the fear-based movement became more intense than it might have been in Japan. Fukuda warns that rumors, when acted upon collectively, can create real-world consequences.
He cites past cases, such as the 1973 toilet paper panic during the oil crisis. A rumor started by a housewife about a shortage spread so widely that store shelves were emptied across Japan. Similarly, a joke among high school girls about a financial institution being dangerous led to a bank run that pushed the institution to the brink of collapse.
"There are many instances where people's behavior, driven by a rumor, makes the prediction come true," Fukuda noted. "That's why how we respond to misinformation is critically important."
The origin of a rumor can often be traced through media investigations and academic research. During the COVID-19 pandemic, panic-buying of toilet paper resurfaced, prompting news outlets to show images of well-stocked shelves to avoid triggering further hoarding—an effort informed by lessons from past incidents.
But there have been darker moments in history. After the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake, a false rumor that "poison was poured into wells" led to mob violence and deaths. At that time, with no modern water infrastructure, such misinformation caused panic and tragic consequences.
In more recent memory, after the Kumamoto Earthquake, a fake photo of a lion allegedly escaping from a zoo went viral, highlighting how easily fear can be exploited during disasters.
"With the rise of social media, there are people who deliberately spread false information to gain views," Fukuda warned.
Why do people fall for such rumors? Fukuda explains that some are naturally drawn to prophecies and conspiracy theories. The manga The Prophecies of Nostradamus, published in 1973, sold over 2.5 million copies in Japan. In the U.S., belief in a so-called "deep state" has fueled political conspiracy theories, amplified even by major figures like former President Donald Trump.
"It's part occult, part cult-like thinking," said Fukuda. "Some people distrust the government and media and seek 'hidden truths.' These people are more vulnerable to conspiracy theories."
One psychological factor is the "echo chamber" effect on social media. As users follow others with similar beliefs, platforms recommend increasingly similar content, reinforcing the perception that everyone shares the same view. Fukuda noted that YouTube is a clear example—watching one video about earthquake predictions leads to a stream of similar content, reinforcing belief.
"This creates an illusion of consensus," said Fukuda. "People should be aware that although the internet seems vast, it often narrows into small echo chambers."
American psychologists Allport and Postman proposed a formula for how rumors spread: the amount of rumor equals its importance multiplied by its ambiguity. The July 5th disaster rumor is a perfect example—its theme is significant and its source, a fictional manga, is vague. Together, these factors create ideal conditions for mass circulation.
A study from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology found that false information spreads faster on X (formerly Twitter) than accurate information. Fukuda said this aligns with other findings and reflects growing public distrust in traditional institutions like government and media.
"In today's world, it's more important than ever to verify the source of any claim," he said. "Before posting or sharing anything, stop and check whether it's true and whether it should be shared. This is what media literacy means."
Schools and society must foster this kind of critical thinking. Even if it's hard to change everything overnight, just pausing before spreading information can help prevent unnecessary panic.
Source: ABCTVnews
