Sunrise in Tokyo heralds the start of yet another hellish day at the office for Terumasa Yoshida. The married father of two has just spent the night sleeping in a single bed in a tiny room rented by his employer, away from the creature comforts of home and the company of his family in nearby Yokohama.
”On a busy day, I turn up for work at about 5am and don’t finish until 2am the next morning,” he says. ”It’s not that we don’t want to go home — we just can’t. We have to think about the people around us at work. I know that’s a very Japanese way of thinking, but that’s the way it is.”
The bespectacled Yoshida, a slim 57-year-old with a salt-and-pepper crew cut, is every inch the loyal corporate Japanese warrior, from his navy blue blazer and conservative tie to the company badge attached to his lapel.
But after years of singular devotion to his company, a car-hire firm, he is one of millions of Japanese workers who could soon be given a way out of the prison cell that passes for his workplace.
The very same workaholic ethic credited with dragging Japan out of its post-war funk now has the country flirting with social and economic meltdown.
The health ministry estimates that the birth rate will drop this year from 1,28 to 1,26 per couple or even lower, said the Yomiuri Shimbun newspaper. If the trend continues, Japan’s workforce will become too small to support its greying population, the tax base will shrink and the pensions system will come under increasing strain. And the fault for destroying Japanese families, experts say, lies partly with slave-driving bosses for whom loyalty is measured in hours spent behind a desk.
Japanese workers take, on average, only half the 18 days of paid holiday they are entitled to, according to the government. The result is overworked employees — most of them men — who find themselves chained to their desks when they should be at home looking after their family … or at least starting one.
Children
Overwork is one of the most commonly cited reasons why young Japanese couples shy away from having children. Last month, the government said that Japan’s population had shrunk by 19 000 — the first decline since 1945.
This has prompted Kuniko Inoguchi, the minister charged with boosting the birth rate, to insist that companies must allow men to spend more time at home and help women return to work after giving birth.
”The next five years are crucial,” Inoguchi said in an interview. ”We have the second baby boomers who will remain in their 30s for only another five years, so I am up against the clock.”
On Monday, in the biggest challenge to corporate traditions for years, the health and welfare ministry said it is considering introducing a law compelling firms to tell workers to take all their paid holiday.
”We felt that people are not taking enough leave,” a ministry official told Reuters. ”We need to discourage people from working too much so they can balance work with family.”
Neglected holiday entitlement is not the only problem. Workers routinely put in long hours of overtime, often without extra pay. The proposed Bill, which could be submitted to Parliament in 2007, might also allow workers to convert their overtime hours into extra paid holiday.
However, some white-collar employees say taking a vacation has become harder than ever because of tight work schedules after companies cut down on staff to save on costs.
”We have lots of holidays, but we just can’t use them all because we are always short-staffed and constantly busy,” an official at a Japanese oil company told Reuters.
Getting worse
The workaholic trend appears to have been getting worse in recent years. Officials say the proportion of people taking full paid leave fell to a record low of about 46% in the year up to March 2005. According to the Organisation of Economic Cooperation and Development, the Japanese work longer than their counterparts in Britain, the United States and Germany.
Overwork comes at a high price. Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the developed world. Last year, more than 30 000 people killed themselves. While many deaths were blamed on corporate bankruptcy, a large number of victims were those who could not handle the stress of long hours tied to the desk, away from their families.
The ”lost decade” of the recession-hit 1990s claimed not only business scalps, but also the lives of otherwise healthy men who keeled over prematurely in their prime through sheer overwork, prompting a spate of lawsuits by their widows against their husbands’ corporate ”murderers”.
Despite all this, even liberal thinkers hail bushido — the never-say-die spirit of the samurai.
”A few years ago, thanks partly to the hit movie The Last Samurai, bushido became a buzzword,” the left-of-centre Asahi Shimbun newspaper said in a recent editorial. ”People tend to praise the code of conduct that samurai were required to observe as having the grace to give one’s life to show loyalty. But, essentially, the spirit is by no means a belligerent one.”
Hopes that a more enlightened corporate culture will take hold have been invested in today’s 20somethings — young men and women who grew up in the midst of Japan’s worst post-war economic performance and who no longer consider a job offer upon graduation as a free hand for their employers to work them to the bone.
”These days, if people get fed up with their jobs, they feel more comfortable about leaving and going somewhere else,” says Yoshida’s boss, Nobuyoshi Totoki. ”In 30 years’ time, when today’s university students are working for government ministries, things might start to improve, but not before.” — Guardian Unlimited Â