What is it all worth? The aggregate of Tokyo: its buildings and infrastructure; the land and natural contours it rests on; its exports and outputs, its institutions and laws; its rituals and customs, its culture and heritage. The transit systems that bind it. The signage that imposes order. Memory, layered into the city's sediment. Reputation, shaped by distant eyes. What gets counted—and what does not.

The value of a city defies simple calculation. Like a work of art, it changes according to who observes it, at what moment, and from what perspective. Certain core elements hold their worth steadily, yet neighbourhoods fluctuate—ignored or derided in one decade, celebrated in the next. A city invites appraisal, critique, affection, or disregard. Its value refracts continually through time, memory, mood, and the movements of the market.

Japan’s Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism (MLIT) recently published its annual Chika Kōji (地価公示), a report assessing standardised land parcels as of 1 January. This report provides an essential reference point for the country’s property valuation system. An article in The Nikkei caught my attention this week, noting that the latest 2025 figures reveal Tokyo’s land prices rising by an average of 7.3% across commercial and residential sectors.

Annual land or property values in most major cities typically rise by 2% to 5%, fluctuating according to local conditions and market cycles. International differences in land valuation methodologies, regulations, and property classifications complicate direct comparisons, but Tokyo’s 7.3% rise implies a deviation worth scrutinising.