In Japan, despite the global spread of #MeToo, cultural patriarchy and an inadequate legal system hinder progress. This article examines the lack of legal protections, the influence of patriarchal culture, and the subtle forms of resistance emerging, signaling a collective awakening among Japanese women. In a global context, this is a pivotal moment for Japanese women to redefine courage and justice, pushing for long-awaited change.
The #MeToo movement has reverberated across many countries, amplifying the voices of survivors of sexual violence. Yet, Japan—a country renowned for its technological and social progress—remains largely absent from this global conversation. Despite its modern and prosperous image, Japan still grapples with deep-rooted patriarchal norms that silence women’s voices. This article explores why #MeToo has not gained significant traction in Japan, shedding light on the structural and cultural challenges that inhibit change. The author argues that silence is no longer golden for Japanese women; rather, it symbolizes systemic oppression that must be broken. The article focuses on three key factors: (1) the dominance of patriarchy and “shame culture” in Japanese society, (2) the inadequacy of legal protections for sexual violence survivors, and (3) the emergence of subtle forms of resistance within civil society.
First, the deeply ingrained patriarchy in Japan poses a major barrier to the acknowledgment of sexual violence. Concepts like gaman (enduring in silence) and enryo (self-restraint) pressure women to remain silent, even when they are victims of sexual violence. Japanese society tends to blame the victim rather than support them, creating a repressive social climate. Feminist poststructuralist theory highlights how cultural discourses shape gender norms that limit women’s ability to speak out. In Japan, the narrative that “a good woman is a silent woman” is perpetuated by media, institutions, and even families. Second, Japan’s legal system remains inadequate in offering protection to sexual violence survivors. As of 2023, the law defines rape as a crime only if there is evidence of physical violence or serious threats. This makes it difficult for many survivors, who are often in passive positions due to fear and psychological pressure, to prove their case.
The case of journalist Shiori Ito, who publicly accused her rapist, highlights the double burden faced by survivors: trauma and public judgment. Feminist legal approaches argue that a seemingly neutral legal system often carries a gender bias, overlooking the unique experiences of women. Third, although open resistance is still limited, subtle forms of resistance are emerging, signaling a rise in collective awareness. Campaigns like #KuToo (protesting the requirement for women to wear high heels) and the increasing popularity of gender studies among young people are forms of new articulation that challenge gender inequalities. These movements are not always overt but instead take symbolic and cultural forms that are more attuned to Japan’s context.
From the perspective of new social theory, resistance does not always manifest in massive protests but in everyday practices that defy dominant norms. The three factors discussed—patriarchal culture, inadequate legal protections, and cultural resistance—illustrate the unique structural and cultural challenges faced by #MeToo in Japan. However, the voices of women that were once silenced are now finding their way, albeit slowly and quietly. As silence is no longer golden, it is time for Japanese society—especially its women—to redefine courage and justice in the land of the rising sun.
