#002 Japan's "Lost 30 Years"

The Dark Legacy of the High Economic Growth Period

The image was taken in Atlanta when I was born. The baby in the middle is me, being held by my uncle. The man on the left is my father, the woman on the right is my mother, and the boy is my older brother.

Have You Heard of Japan's "Lost 30 Years"?

The "Lost 30 Years" refers to the period of prolonged economic stagnation that Japan has experienced since the collapse of the bubble economy in the early 1990s. Until the 1980s, Japan enjoyed remarkable economic growth, becoming such an economic powerhouse that the world proclaimed "Japan as Number One." However, after the bubble burst in the early 1990s, a long period of economic stagnation has continued to this day.

It’s pretty mind-blowing—almost like a magic trick gone wrong—that a country that once had the world’s second-largest GDP has managed to keep wages frozen for 30 years. Japan really is a land of miracles—in every sense of the word. For better or worse, whether you look at it from the outside or the inside.

In this article, I'll provide a broad social and economic overview of the Lost 30 Years while reflecting on the era's social conditions and my own family background as a woman born in 1984, now aged 40. While various elements will come up throughout this piece, I'll just introduce them briefly today and delve into the details along with my personal experiences in future articles.

My Parents

In 1984 (Showa 59), I was born as the second child to a father who was a typical Japanese "salaryman" of the Showa era and a full-time housewife mother. Three more siblings followed, making us a family of five children - quite rare in Japan at that time.

My father, originally from Shikoku, was a typical elite of his generation. He graduated from the University of Tokyo's Law Faculty, Japan's most prestigious academic institution, and joined a major steel company affiliated with one of Japan's industrial conglomerates. (The predecessor of that company that's now in the news with US Steel.)

Dating back to the pre-war slogan "Steel is the nation's strength," Japan's steel industry played a crucial role in supporting economic development during the high growth period. Steel was referred to as the "rice of industry," forming the foundation for manufacturing and construction sectors. Steel companies held high social status and were popular among job seekers for their stable employment and high salaries.

This is where my father began his career as a moretsu (zealous) salaryman. Around the same time, he had an arranged marriage with my mother, also from Shikoku, who was 22 years old at the time. She married right after graduating from a public university in spring. While only about 10% of women attended four-year universities back then, my mother, despite her education... But in those days, marriage was considered the path to happiness for women, so this wasn't unusual at all. Since then, my mother has never worked outside—not even a part-time job.

And so began my mother's life as a full-time housewife supporting a moretsu salaryman. While having a life secured without needing to work outside is a privilege, her self-esteem has remained consistently low, and that has inevitably affected me as well.

The Corporate Warrior Culture of Japan's Salarymen

The way Japanese salarymen work, with their crazy long hours, has become internationally known through the word "KAROSHI" (death from overwork). An energy drink commercial with the catchphrase "Can you work 24 hours? Businessman! Businessman! Japanese Businessman!!" became a huge hit at the time. (I've put the video above)

The mentality of absolute loyalty to the company is extraordinary. This is best exemplified by "TENKIN" (transfers) - salarymen are often transferred to different cities by company order, with little choice.

Whether you've built a house or bought an apartment, the company shows no mercy in ordering transfers. The five of us siblings were born in different cities along Japan's Pacific Belt.

Japan's Pacific Belt is an industrial and economic corridor stretching from Tokyo to Fukuoka along the Pacific coast. It's Japan's economic heart, like the U.S. East Coast Megalopolis or California's tech and industrial hubs, housing major cities, factories, and ports that drive the nation's economy.

My eldest brother was born in Kokura, Kyushu; I was actually born in America during my father's company-sponsored MBA (returning after six months); my first younger brother in Chiba; second younger brother in Nishinomiya; and my sister in Kobe. Then, six months before the Great Hanshin Earthquake, my father received orders to work in Tokyo, and that began our life in the capital.

Looking back, my mother had such a tough time, giving birth to and raising five children in different cities, all on her own. In Japan, we call this 'one-op' (WAN OPE), meaning doing everything alone without help. But back then, that was just normal, so the term 'one-op' didn’t even exist.

While there were various unique systems that supported Japan's high economic growth period, the family model of "the zealously loyal salaryman supported by a full-time housewife" was a key foundation. The problem is that this is still considered the "standard family" model even today, despite massive changes in our environment. This is a major factor when discussing Japan's social issues.

And Japan loves "standards." Everyone is expected to conform to standards, and deviating from them is terrifying. I think this is ingrained in my DNA too, though I've become more liberated since going to Rwanda. I'll write about this another time.

30+ Years Since the Bubble Burst

The bubble is said to have burst around 1991. I was a first-grader in Kobe at the time. Honestly, I don't remember anything about the economic situation.

While property and stock prices began falling immediately after the bubble burst, the impact on ordinary households emerged gradually, so it's natural that I, as an elementary school student, didn't notice any changes in daily life. However, the subsequent long-term economic stagnation and deteriorating employment conditions had a major impact on society as a whole, and Japan still hasn't managed to break free from these problems.

Even into the 2000s, Japan continued to struggle with deflation and stagnant wages. In the 2010s, growth rates remained low compared to other countries, especially the US and China, and Japan's presence in the global economy diminished.

Let's review why this is called the "Lost 30 Years":

• Nearly Zero Economic Growth

  • Japan's GDP has barely grown since 1990

  • Meanwhile, the US and China have seen significant growth

  • For example, while Japan's GDP ranked second globally in 1995, it has now fallen to fourth place, surpassed by China and Germany

• Stagnant Wages

  • Average Japanese wages have barely changed since the 1990s

  • During the same period, wages in the US and South Korea have risen significantly

• Around 1990, Japan's per capita GDP was about 80% of the US level, but now it's below 60%

• South Korea's per capita GDP is poised to overtake Japan's

• Japanese companies' international competitiveness has declined, with former world leaders like Sony and Panasonic falling behind Apple and Samsung

A photo from my father's mother's memorial service. My father, of course, was in a suit. Back then, even in Japan’s hot and humid summer, no salaryman would be caught without a tie. Maybe he came straight from work, or maybe he was heading there afterward. A true "mo-retsu" salaryman. As a child, I have no memory of eating dinner with my father on a weekday.

The Real Problem

While those are the facts, what I feel most strongly is the intense deflationary mindset.

While running a restaurant in Rwanda from 2015, serving customers from around the world, I would raise prices every six months or year. But whenever I returned temporarily to Japan, I was shocked to find prices unchanged.

Many people in Japan welcome deflation, especially the elderly. Since they're not earning salaries, they prefer prices to stay low rather than see wage increases. And because the elderly are the majority in Japan, politicians have tended to only do what's convenient for them, which prevented wage increases. (Though this has finally started to change in recent years.)

So over these 30 years, while Japanese people were grateful for deflation, the gap with other countries suddenly widened.

And above all, there's the declining birthrate. It can't be stopped anymore.

The baby boomer generation (about 10 years older than my father) saw about 2.7 million births per year.

In 1984 when I was born, it was about 1.5 million.

In 2019 when my daughter (second child) was born, it was about 900,000.

And in 2024, the number of births has fallen below 700,000.

Japan's natural population change in 2024 is minus 850,000. Yes, deaths far exceed births, and Japan's population will continue to decline at an accelerating pace.

Despite desperate "measures to combat declining birthrates," it's too late. The population of women of childbearing age is already too small.

The government's failure to create a third baby boom after the baby boomers and their children (baby boomer juniors) was a complete policy disaster. The struggling baby boomer junior generation had too many people who couldn't even think about starting families. I'll write separately about how badly the baby boomer juniors got the short end of the stick.

Well, I see the declining birthrate as a women's strike. I'll write about this in another article too. (There are so many topics that need detailed explanation!)

After writing so much about the "Lost 30 Years," I still think Japan is an incredibly wealthy country. Especially through my experience in Rwanda, I strongly felt that being born in Japan was like winning the lottery in terms of economic prosperity.

So what do I think is the real problem?

It's Japan's resistance to change. This is what worries me most. Of course, changes are happening gradually, but they're far too slow.

Japan has only ever changed when faced with external pressure—once when Perry’s Black Ships arrived at the end of the Edo period, and again when the country was reduced to ashes after losing the Pacific War. Is outside pressure the only way Japan can change? Does it have to lose everything before transformation is possible?

Before that could happen, I left Japan and changed myself. Though in my case, I had no choice—I felt suffocated and had to leave. I followed all the rules based on the success stories of the high economic growth era, only to end up a loser.

I’ll write more next time! Stay tuned!