Are people in Japan happy?
Perhaps not, according to the latest World Happiness Report released in March. The nation placed 54th among the 146 countries and regions covered by the U.N.-related report, up two notches from the previous survey but nevertheless one of the lowest among developed economies.
But just how far can we read into the results of such surveys?
Japan boasts a famously low crime rate, a high life expectancy and it’s the third-largest economy in the world in terms of gross domestic product. Granted, it does harbor societal and structural issues leading to comparatively high suicide rates, gender wage gaps and notoriously long working hours that occasionally manifest in karōshi, or death by overwork.
And yet, why does a prosperous nation known for its safe, clean streets and transportation networks, accessible education and universal health care rank so low when it comes to personal views toward happiness and well-being?
It basically comes down to cultural, religious and geographical characteristics impacting the way its people feel about the quality of their lives, experts say, perceptions that are shifting as millions of Japanese reassess their priorities amid the pandemic.
“The concept of happiness varies between countries and cultures,” says Yukiko Uchida, a professor of social and cultural psychology at Kyoto University. “In the United States, for example, happiness is often measured by individual achievement, independence and self-sufficiency, whereas in Japan there’s more weight on getting along with others in the community. In fact, openly boasting about one’s happiness could be seen as self-centered and even frowned upon.”
Uchida, who co-authored a chapter in the latest World Happiness Report titled “Insights from the first global survey of balance and harmony,” says those differences in mentality affect how people behave when answering surveys.
In the World Happiness Report, for example, respondents are asked to rate their own lives on a zero-to-10 scale, with zero representing the worst possible life for them and 10 being the best. The results are then analyzed using six factors: levels of GDP, life expectancy, generosity, social support, freedom and corruption.
Based on that system, Japan averaged 6.039, compared to 6.977 for the United States. The top 10 were mostly Scandinavian countries, with Finland leading the way with 7.821.
“We know Japanese respondents tend to gravitate toward 5 and 8, with those who picked 5 feeling somewhat more anxious about their lives compared to people who chose 8,” Uchida says. “In comparison, American respondents are more polarized in their response, with those in difficult predicaments choosing a lower number on the scale, and vice versa.”
As a result, it’s hard to conclude that these numbers represent the best metric to measure a nation or its people’s sense of happiness. Indeed, they may fail to capture the social dimension of a country’s psychological state.
“However, it’s an important database that can be used to compare and contrast how perceptions toward happiness have been evolving across the world over the years,” Uchida says.
A more accurate measurement of happiness for the Japanese, Uchida says, could be made through what’s called the Interdependent Happiness Scale, which measures one’s well-being based on interpersonal harmony, ordinariness and quiescence.
Originally proposed by Uchida and Hidefumi Hitokoto, an associate professor at Kwansei Gakuin University’s department of psychological sciences, the method has shown that the degree to which these criteria are related to general well-being is stronger in Asian countries than in Western countries, and is also more prominent in rural areas than in urban areas within Japan.
“When we measure happiness using this scale, Japan is basically on par with other countries,” Uchida says.
Always anxious
Since 2012, Secom Co., Japan’s largest security company, has been conducting annual surveys gauging the level of anxiety felt by the Japanese. Its most recent questionnaire, which was published in October 2021, revealed that more than 70% of respondents had felt a degree of anxiety about something recently — the 10th straight year such a result has been recorded.
When choosing multiple answers, the most common cause was physical health, followed by livelihood and retirement in old age, earthquakes and mental health. The COVID-19 pandemic and fear of infectious diseases came in at fifth.
“Studies have shown that the Japanese tend to be very worrisome and picky about details,” says Takashi Maeno, a professor at Keio University and one of Japan’s leading experts on well-being. “On the upside, these qualities have helped Japan build a very sophisticated society. On the downside, people tend to be overly conscious of social norms and how they are perceived by others.”
Maeno says these characteristics have been reflected in distinct labor practices, including the lifetime employment system and shūkatsu, the annual job-hunting process that determines where university graduates will begin their careers, often staying for the rest of their lives.
“This system functioned well during Japan’s economic boom years, as it offered workers stability and a sense of safety — akin to belonging to a village where everyone looked after one another,” Maeno says.
But as the asset price bubble burst in the early 1990s and Japan entered an extended period of stagnation, things began to change.
In response to the economic strain resulting from the protracted recession, the nation’s leaders pushed for reform across the labor market. These deregulations led to corporate cost-cutting and a growing pool of poorly paid temporary and contract workers who now account for more than a third of the workforce.
“Demand for status symbol goods signaling high income or wealth tends to soar when the economy is growing. They do offer happiness, even though it is very short-lived,” Maeno says. “When those conditions are no longer sustainable, people turn toward intangible means to attain happiness — peace of mind, safety and health, to name a few. This is a trend we’re now seeing in many developed economies, including Japan.”
That shift may be accelerating with the pandemic. Meditation and mindfulness have become buzzwords, while reconnecting with nature through solo camping and other outdoor activities is booming. More corporations are relocating their headquarters out of Tokyo, while the possibility of remote work has seen people leaving big cities to live in the countryside.
Japan’s climate and topography, which make it particularly vulnerable to natural disasters such as earthquakes and typhoons, also impact its people’s psyche, Maeno says. “When one never knows when and where disasters could occur, they become wary of being too content with their lives.”
That awe toward nature, Maeno says, may be reflected in Shintoism’s animistic philosophy, and the emphasis on collectivism in Japan in contrast to the individualism represented by Western cultures with monotheistic religions.
Meanwhile, moderation is considered to be a virtue in Buddhism, and the notion of karmic retribution may help explain people’s tendency to downplay their level of personal satisfaction.
“The Japanese may not stand out in terms of subjective well-being, but instead they’ve built a very safe and secure society,” Maeno says.
Lessons from Fukui
Of Japan’s 47 prefectures, Fukui is something of an enigma. Often mocked as the “least visited” domestic destination, the small prefecture facing the Sea of Japan is also one of the happiest, according to various surveys, including one recently compiled by the Japan Research Institute in its 2020 report.
In fact, Fukui was ranked No.1 for the fourth consecutive time by the think tank’s report on happiness, which has been published every two years since 2012. Based on 75 indexes in fields including health, culture and lifestyle, the prefecture — known for eyeglass manufacturing and textile production — stood out in the categories of work and education.
According to another survey conducted by Teikoku Data Bank in 2020, Fukui Prefecture ranked at the top for 38 consecutive years in terms of the number of company presidents it produces, reflected in the large number of small to midsize firms in the prefecture. According to the government’s economic census for business activity, more than 45,000 private businesses were registered in Fukui Prefecture as of 2019.
“Fukui residents are highly sedentary with low in-migration, while the prefecture also has a large number of three-generation households,” says Toshiyuki Tsukamoto, a professor at Fukui Prefectural University who has been researching the regional characteristics of the prefecture.
Tsukamoto says Fukui Prefecture also stands out in terms of its high ratio of households with double incomes, home ownership and total fertility rate, or the average number of children born to a woman through her lifetime.
“In terms of female employment, it’s at the top in Japan,” he says. “That also translates to higher household income and marriage rates, as people aren’t too picky about their partner’s level of income.”
And unlike in crowded cities, there are no children on waiting lists for nursery schools, while the prefecture has consistently ranked high in terms of children’s scholastic ability and physical strength.
There’s a geographical advantage, too, Tsukamoto says, as the prefecture is within a 200-kilometer radius of major cities such as Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe and Nagoya, meaning it’s an ideal location for subcontractors commissioned by large corporations to be based in.
Despite the demographic hurdles facing the rest of shrinking, aging Japan, Tsukamoto says Fukui Prefecture has “miraculously maintained a social structure akin to a village community, where everyone knows each other.”
At the same time, such an insular, close-knit society could be suffocating for outsiders and new residents, he says.
“That’s something Fukui needs to work on,” he says.
Community comfort
While the case of Fukui supports research indicating that individuals with a strong sense of belonging to social groups and communities are generally happier, Japan’s postwar economic rise and its population’s mass migration to metropolitan areas has seen traditional neighborhoods erode and family units shrink.
Multigenerational households were replaced by nuclear families and, over the past few decades, by single-person households that now account for 38% of all households in Japan.
Looking at Tokyo, there were 3.63 million single-person households, according to a 2020 national census, or roughly half of all households in the capital. The demographic shift stemming from an aging, shrinking population and an anemic birthrate is set to escalate the trend. Tokyo estimates that by 2060, the number of single-person households comprising those age 65 and over will grow to 1.14 million from 790,000 in 2015.
The situation has given rise to a well-documented loneliness epidemic, while pandemic-induced economic insecurity and social isolation has led to a surge in anxiety and depression. But the proliferation of remote work, some say, may be putting the focus back on the importance of communities.
“Many who used to return home after work only to sleep are now finding themselves spending far more time in their neighborhoods, discovering new shops, restaurants and people they can connect with,” says Kyosuke Sakakura, an associate professor at Tokyo City University and an expert on community management.
Sakakura has renovated the second floor of a building facing a shopping street in Tokyo’s Oyamadai district into an off-campus research base. The office is part of what’s called the “Oyamachi Project,” an initiative supported by his university, as well as local bars, restaurants and an elementary school, to facilitate community activities involving both the young and old.
To date, the group has produced its own radio program, hosted board game nights, launched a food pantry and had seminars on how to plant vegetables, to name a few of its endeavors.
“Japan’s demographic woes have seen many issues emerge, including isolation and the growing demand for care for the elderly,” Sakakura says.
“While various parties both public and private have been working to address these problems, we believe communities can also play a role in facilitating well-being.”
So, are people in Japan happy?
“Yes, I believe they are, and are capable of working together to overcome hardships,” Sakakura says. “But they also harbor the illusion that they have to be the same as everyone else, when in fact well-being is different for each individual.”
