My recent visit to Tokyo once again reminded me why Japan remains among the world’s most admired nations when it comes to infrastructure and urban management. The country’s quiet efficiency does not compete for attention — it simply works. Whether in the form of ultra-modern railways, century-old network logic preserved through order and discipline, or underground engineering marvels hidden from public sight, Japan demonstrates what long-term planning, continuity and technical excellence can achieve.

Even in Shibuya — already one of the world’s most photographed intersections — major redevelopment continues. The district’s iconic Scramble Crossing remains the centerpiece, but a closer look reveals cranes, construction and newly risen towers forming what is arguably Tokyo’s  most ambitious urban renewal program in decades. Instead of slowing down after having “arrived,” Tokyo keeps rebuilding, reimagining and preparing for the next 50 years. Infrastructure is not treated as a political trophy; it is a national habit.

One of Japan’s most impressive feats is one that tourists rarely see: its vast underground flood control system, particularly the Metropolitan Area Outer Underground Discharge Channel — often called the G-Cans Project. This subterranean cathedral of engineering lies beneath Saitama and protects Tokyo from catastrophic flooding by diverting water from overflowing rivers into enormous silos before pumping them safely into the Edo River. Measuring more than 25 meters high and stretching about 6 kilometers, it is one of the world’s largest flood control facilities.

The Philippines, of course, is no stranger to flooding. Metro Manila’s perennial inundation during the typhoon season, exacerbated by clogged waterways and unplanned urban growth, makes one appreciate  the foresight behind Tokyo’s decision to invest in infrastructure that citizens never directly see. It is a reminder that the most important infrastructure is sometimes invisible — and that long-term risk mitigation requires an engineering mindset, not a short election-cycle horizon.

During this trip, our visit to TeamLab Planets —one of the city’s most innovative attractions — also revealed another piece of Tokyo’s brilliance: the Yurikamome Line. This elevated, driverless monorail connects Shimbashi to the  Toyosu area, gliding over Tokyo Bay with sweeping views of the skyline and waterfront. Unlike JR East or the Tokyo Metro, the Yurikamome is managed independently by a third-sector company, showing how multiple operators can co-exist productively through integration and coordination.

The Yurikamome Line is a lesson in urban transport innovation: automation, punctuality and seamless connectivity with other systems. And because it is elevated, commuters and tourists alike get a glimpse of the continuous developments around Tokyo Bay —a testament to how reclaimed land, when thoughtfully planned, can become a thriving economic and cultural hub.

In the Philippines,  infrastructure remains the Achilles’ heel of national competitiveness. Metro Manila’s road networks are choked, railways are limited, mass transit systems are either under construction or overloaded and flooding still paralyzes entire districts after a few hours of rain. The country’s infrastructure “nightmare” is rooted in three chronic issues: fragmented planning, inconsistent political commitmentand the lack of a long-term blueprint insulated from administrative turnover.

To this, one must add a fourth — and perhaps most painful — ailment: corruption. What should be budgeted must be spent properly, transparently, and free from the leakages that have long plagued Philippine public works. When the previous administration launched its ambitious “Build, Build, Build” program, there was initial hope that the infrastructure gap could finally be narrowed. Instead, many projects became mired in delays, questionable contracts, and accusations that padded deals served to enrich well-connected operators. Infrastructure is expensive — but corruption makes it unaffordable.

A glaring example is MRT-7. Launched with much fanfare and originally targeted for completion years ago, MRT-7 was positioned as a transformative project that would finally connect Quezon City to San Jose del Monte, Bulacan. Today, it stands as a symbol of chronic delay. The project keeps getting pushed back —affected by right-of-way issues, contractor disputes, shifting timelines and poor coordination among implementing agencies. For commuters who spend hours navigating Commonwealth Avenue daily, the endless construction has become a painful reminder that timelines in the Philippines are often aspirational rather than binding commitments.

MRT-7’s predicament reflects a deeper malaise: we plan grandly but execute weakly. Japan builds rail lines in phases but adheres to clear engineering schedules and transparent progress reporting. In the Philippines, by contrast, project slippage is normalized, and public frustration is met with shifting deadlines rather than accountability. If the Philippines is serious about solving its infrastructure deficit, it must fix the pipeline from feasibility study to right-of-way acquisition to implementation.

What, then, can we learn from Japan?

First, infrastructure must be apolitical and anchored on continuity. Japan’s projects span administrations, sometimes lasting decades, yet they are completed with the original objective intact.

Second, mass transit should be the backbone, not an afterthought. Tokyo’s railways —JR, Metro, Toei and private lines — form an integrated ecosystem. Manila must evolve toward a true multimodal, rail-centric model.

Third, invisible infrastructure matters. Investments in drainage, earthquake protection, underground utilities, and risk management are indispensable.

Fourth, continuous urban redevelopment is essential. Shibuya’s transformation shows that cities must evolve with time, not stagnate.

Finally, infrastructure integrity requires a culture of transparency and accountability. Clean governance is not optional; it is the foundation of credible public investment.

Tokyo shows what is possible. The question is whether we have the resolve — and honesty — to follow through.

The views expressed here are his own and do not necessarily reflect the opinion of his office or FINEX.

Benel Dela Paz Lagua was previously EVP and chief development officer at the Development Bank of the Philippines.  He is an active FINEX member and an advocate of risk-based lending for SMEs. Today, he is independent director in progressive banks and in some NGOs.