For generations, Japanese women have faced significant barriers, remaining largely absent from the top echelons of business, government, and wider society. This imbalance is often attributed to a pervasive cultural expectation that places the majority of childcare and household responsibilities squarely on their shoulders.
However, a pivotal moment is on the horizon. This Tuesday, Sanae Takaichi, a prominent conservative lawmaker known for her admiration of Margaret Thatcher, is set to be formally appointed Japan’s next prime minister during a special parliamentary session. Her ascent would mark a historic first, placing a woman at the helm of Japanese government after centuries of male leadership.
At 64, Ms. Takaichi is a controversial figure, and her groundbreaking achievement has sparked a spectrum of opinions. Supporters praise her as a trailblazer intimately familiar with the struggles of Japan’s male-dominated landscape. Yet, activists and academics worry she may perpetuate policies that have historically disadvantaged Japanese women. Some political opponents have even dismissed her as a mere figurehead, with one male lawmaker controversially likening her to a “bride” assimilated into a dominant party faction.
Despite the criticisms, many Japanese women express optimism, hoping Ms. Takaichi will establish a new norm for powerful female leadership and champion family-supportive initiatives, such as improved access to childcare facilities.
A photo shows Sanae Takaichi at the Liberal Democratic Party headquarters in Tokyo, exuding confidence on a significant Thursday.
“This is truly a first for Japan,” remarked Hikari Minagawa, a 19-year-old freshman at Otsuma Women’s University in Tokyo. “I hope Takaichi can pave the way for more women to enter politics and serve as representatives. I believe she has the strength and resolve to inspire women to confidently step into the political arena. She’s strong, she’s cool.”
A candid shot captures Hikari Minagawa, echoing the hopes of many young women who look to Ms. Takaichi to simplify their path into political life.
Ms. Takaichi’s stance on gender is multifaceted. While not identifying as a feminist, she shares a characteristic with other conservative female leaders like Margaret Thatcher and Italy’s Prime Minister, Giorgia Meloni, by advocating policies that many critics argue have undermined women’s rights. Notably, she has resisted altering a century-old law mandating married couples to adopt a single surname, and she supports preserving the exclusively male line of succession for Japan’s imperial family.
Her recent victory as president of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), where she triumphed over four male contenders, has not quelled concerns among some activists, scholars, and politicians. They fear that despite her historic ascent, Ms. Takaichi’s leadership may bring minimal change for Japanese women.
“She is the pioneering woman to reach this position,” stated Momoko Nojo, founder of the youth advocacy group No Youth No Japan. “However, her rise involved stances that discouraged broader gender equality. I don’t anticipate significant advancements for women under her leadership.”
Historically, Japan has fallen behind other democratic nations in empowering women politically. As of last month, women occupied only about 16 percent of seats in the lower house of Parliament. This places Japan at a stark 141st out of 183 countries globally for female representation in national legislatures, according to a report by the Inter-Parliamentary Union.
Although a record 73 women secured parliamentary seats in the last general election, female representation remains notably low in top governmental roles, with only two women currently serving in the cabinet.
In the corporate sphere, Japan boasts a higher female labor force participation rate than many developed economies, including the United States. Yet, this achievement is overshadowed by the fact that most women hold lower-tier positions. A recent survey of over 20,000 Japanese companies by Teikoku Databank revealed that more than half of these firms are led by all-male executive teams.
An image shows the impressive architecture of the national Diet building in Tokyo, home to Japan’s Parliament.
Ms. Takaichi projects an image of relentless dedication, famously stating she would forsake work-life balance to “work and work and work and work.” Critics argue that promoting such a mindset is detrimental to Japanese society, where a pervasive culture of overwork, long hours, and late-night social engagements in business and politics already severely limits career progression for women, who disproportionately bear domestic and childcare burdens.
Early in her political career, Ms. Takaichi openly discussed the isolation she often experienced as a woman navigating the political landscape.
In a 1995 book, published two years after her initial election to Parliament from Nara Prefecture in western Japan, she recounted feeling sidelined by male colleagues who conducted nighttime meetings in exclusive clubs and saunas.
“Eventually, I just resigned myself to joining them, no matter the venue,” she wrote.
Her writings expressed a deep desire for a future where women in politics could be authentic, unburdened by societal expectations.
She envisioned “a true era for women” emerging only when female politicians could thrive without being reduced to “mascot types” who exploit their femininity, nor “tough-guy types” who excessively shed it.
Another image shows Ms. Takaichi celebrating her victory in the L.D.P. election, a contest where she emerged triumphant over four male rivals.
Japanese media has largely presented Ms. Takaichi as a dynamic new leader for the LDP, a party that has recently endured significant electoral setbacks and lost a key coalition partner after 26 years. However, some political analysts suggest her rise might reflect the party’s desperation for change rather than a genuine commitment to gender equality.
“The glass ceiling wasn’t shattered,” commented Mari Miura, a political science professor at Sophia University in Tokyo. “It was merely a small opening.”
A steadfast opponent of reform, Ms. Takaichi has resisted amending a centuries-old law prohibiting married couples from retaining separate surnames. Given that this tradition almost exclusively leads to women adopting their husband’s name, critics assert it infringes upon a woman’s right to identity. Furthermore, Ms. Takaichi supports upholding a 1947 law that restricts imperial succession solely to men, despite the looming threat of a succession crisis.
While Japan’s imperial history includes several female rulers who wielded differing levels of influence, the last woman to ascend the Chrysanthemum Throne was Empress Gosakuramachi, who reigned in the late 1700s.
Despite a prominent pledge to elevate the number of women in her cabinet to “Nordic levels” (typically around 50 percent), Ms. Takaichi has consistently dismissed diversity quotas. Many gender equality advocates argue such quotas are crucial for dismantling entrenched disparities in politics and business. Ms. Takaichi insists her appointments would not be based “just because they’re women.”
Nonetheless, Ms. Takaichi has advocated for enhanced women’s healthcare access. She has also openly shared her personal experience with menopause, suggesting that Japan needs to improve support systems for women undergoing this life stage.
Historically, women within the LDP have often felt compelled to adopt more conservative stances to advance their careers. Now, having successfully reached the party’s pinnacle after prior leadership attempts in 2021 and 2024, Ms. Takaichi has a unique chance to steer the party towards a greater responsiveness to women’s issues, according to other lawmakers.
“Her true test will be what she accomplishes as an independent politician from this point forward,” stated Kiyomi Tsujimoto, a lawmaker from the rival Constitutional Democratic Party, who has known Ms. Takaichi since the 1980s.
Another photo depicts Kiyomi Tsujimoto, who emphasizes that achieving gender equality is a shared responsibility, requiring active participation from male politicians as well.
Ms. Tsujimoto highlighted the unfairness of solely burdening Ms. Takaichi with the advancement of Japanese women. She asserted that meaningful progress necessitates the robust support and involvement of men.
“It’s unproductive to question her policy decisions simply because of her gender,” she explained. “The responsibility for promoting gender equality ultimately rests with the LDP as a whole.”
Kaori Sasaki, founder of the Japanese diversity consultancy Ewoman, voiced her disagreement with several of Ms. Takaichi’s policies, especially her firm opposition to allowing married couples to retain separate surnames.
A final image presents Kaori Sasaki. She voiced concerns that Ms. Takaichi’s commitment to forsaking work-life balance might inadvertently create greater hurdles for other Japanese women, who already contend with significant domestic responsibilities.
Nevertheless, Ms. Sasaki expressed optimism that, as prime minister, Ms. Takaichi might temper her public statements and reconsider her stances, particularly regarding the contentious issue of separate surnames.
“My hope is that she will propel society forward, enabling many women to engage in both politics and business without having to endure the demanding work styles and challenges that have defined her own journey,” Ms. Sasaki concluded.