Why Asia Really Wants To Host The Olympics
The Olympics are moving to Asia: to Pyeongchang in 2018, Tokyo in 2020 and Beijing in 2022. Asia’s big three were intent on bringing the Games to their shores, or mountains, as the case may be. South Korea succeeded on its third attempt, Japan’s impressive bid came just two years after the Fukushima nuclear accident, and China won by being the last one standing as contenders like Germany, Poland and Norway (all except Kazakhstan) dropped out of the 2022 race. Many North Americans, Europeans — and Brazilians too, as we just saw — don’t like the idea of their taxpayers’ money funding the greatest show on Earth and question the environmental and social costs of creating white elephants in their cities. So why does Asia still want the Olympics?
Asia came late to this party. If Olympics have become a symbol of reckless excess in much of the world, in Asia, they are regarded as a stepping stone to development. The first modern Olympics were played in 1896, but the Games came to Asia only about 50 years ago. Moreover, every time the Olympics have visited Asia, it’s been a coming out party for the host nation. The Tokyo Summer Olympics in 1964 gave Japan, the wartime enemy, a chance to present itself to the world as a friendly, tech leader. With the 1988 Seoul Summer Olympics, South Korea showed off not only its economic miracle but also its transition to a parliamentary democracy. And the most extravagant Olympics ever in summer 2008 sealed Beijing’s status as an economic superpower.
“There is an interesting divergence,” observes Victor Cha, director of Asian Studies at Georgetown University and senior adviser and Korea chair at the Center for Strategic & International Studies. “The Olympics are a benchmark of development in Asia. But in the West, they are becoming a post-modern phenomenon, almost like ‘revival games’ providing an opportunity to reinvigorate great cities.” Indeed, early indications are that contenders for the 2024 Summer Olympics like Los Angeles, Paris and Rome are emphasising their low-cost, low-environmental-impact bids. Los Angeles, for example, intends to host the opening and closing ceremonies at the Los Angeles Coliseum, which has already seen two Olympics, in 1932 and 1984. It also wants to use the LA football club stadium for the sporting events and UCLA’s sprawling campuses as the Olympic Village.
In contrast, expensive new infrastructure is coming up in Asia, from high-speed rail links in and around Pyeongchang and Beijing to a new centrepiece stadium in Tokyo. Arguably, emerging Asia has greater needs than Western cities, and Japan is still recovering and rebuilding post Fukushima. The question is: will any of this infrastructure be needed beyond the Games?
China and South Korea are eager to get on the map as attractive international winter destinations. But economists Robert A. Baade and Victor Matheson argue that Olympics, particularly the Winter Games, result in only short-term tourism bumps. For example, they note that after the 1994 Winter Olympics, 40% of the hotels in Lillehammer, Norway, went bankrupt. Russia spent more than $50 billion on the 2014 Games, but its hopes of turning Sochi into a magnet for winter tourists didn’t quite materialise. (That the Sochi Olympics somehow fused with Russia’s territorial ambitions didn’t help matters).
There are exceptions. Salt Lake City in Utah became more popular as a ski resort after the 2002 Winter Games. But Baade and Matheson say that’s because Salt Lake City was previously overshadowed by the more popular ski resorts in Colorado. In theory, Pyeongchang, which lies in the snowy mountains of the Gangwon province east of Seoul, could emerge as a hidden gem. In reality, the Alps and North America account for two-thirds of all skier visits worldwide and Asia-Pacific only about 15%. So any short-term interest that Pyeongchang will generate may not sustain.
What will sustain is the big question looming over all winter destinations worldwide: How will climate change affect the winter sports industry? The big U.S. snow sports industry is grappling with this question. Within Asia, Japan’s more established ski industry is in decline because of aging locals, lower snowfall and higher average temperatures.
For its part, Beijing, a draw for tourists regardless of the Olympics, faces an additional small problem as a winter destination: It doesn’t get much snowfall to begin with. The Zhangjiakou and Yanqing Zones being developed for the 2022 Games will rely on artificial snow. It’s no coincidence that IOC’s Agenda 2020, intended to drive cleaner, greener Games, unveiled after Beijing won that bid.
Still, sooner or later, Asia’s big powers will also join the “been there, done that” club of Olympic hosts. Japan is already almost there; by 2020, it would have hosted four Olympics. Not surprisingly, its citizens are asking the toughest questions, about everything from corruption scandals to ostentatious stadiums.
Around the world, the Olympics will always be intertwined with national pride, but their environmental and economic logic is coming under close scrutiny. When Asia joins this debate, the Games will surely win.
This post had misstated that the Los Angeles Coliseum was built for the 1980 Olympics. In fact, the LA Coliseum has hosted two Olympics: in 1932 and 1984. The error was corrected on August 22.
Originally published at www.forbes.com on August 22, 2016.