Power Harassment in Japan: Authority, Abuse, and the Human Cost

In recent months, Japan has been forced to confront a troubling reality about its workplaces. In Ibaraki Prefecture, a storm of allegations has engulfed the office of Governor Kazuhiko Oigawa. Thirteen employees have taken their own lives since he assumed office in 2017, while more than one hundred have gone on long-term sick leave due to mental illness. Handwritten suicide notes have surfaced, leaving behind words that speak of despair, abuse, and the crushing weight of hierarchy. One such note, from secretary Takuya Sakuragi, referred to 2023 as “the worst year of my life” and explicitly described the torment he suffered under Vice Governor Hiroyuki Iizuka.

In Tokyo, the family of a 25-year-old woman, identified publicly only as Satomi, emerged from court with a bittersweet victory. Satomi had joined cosmetics firm D-UP with ambition and optimism. Within months, she was being scolded for hours in humiliating meetings with the company president, who called her a “stray dog野良犬.” She was diagnosed with depression, attempted suicide, and never regained consciousness. The Tokyo District Court ordered D-UP to pay 150 million yen to her family and forced the resignation of its president.

And in Toyonaka City, Osaka Prefecture, the line between misconduct and harassment blurred in an incident that drew wide attention. A 53-year-old city worker raised his middle finger at his boss and snapped, “Don’t talk like you’re superior.” He later claimed the language was simply a normal exchange in Osaka dialect. The city disciplined him with a demotion and a one-month suspension.

These cases could not be more different, but they share a theme that is increasingly familiar in Japan: power harassment, or “pawahara パワハラ.” They reveal the destructive side of workplace authority in a society that prizes hierarchy and order.

The Birth of a Concept

The term “power harassment” is not a new concept, but its naming is not particularly old. It was coined in 2001 by Yasuko Okada, the head of a Tokyo-based consulting firm, who believed there was a gap in Japan's understanding of workplace abuse. Sexual harassment had a name, but what about the constant scolding, the impossible demands, or the calculated isolation that could destroy a worker’s spirit? Okada and her colleagues began fielding calls from workers describing these situations, and by 2003, they had codified a definition: “the use of authority or other power to continuously violate a worker’s personality or dignity beyond the appropriate scope of their duties, resulting in a worsening of the working environment or employment insecurity for the worker."

The Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare later expanded the framework, identifying six categories of conduct: physical violence, mental abuse through coercion or verbal aggression, isolation, excessive demands, insufficient demands designed to humiliate, and invasions of personal life.

Unlike the English-language concept of “workplace bullying,” power harassment is framed in terms of organizational structures and hierarchies. It is not just about the behavior of one bad boss but about how authority itself can be weaponized in a system where deference is expected and endurance, or “gaman我慢,” is a cultural virtue.

Why Japan Struggles With Power Harassment

Some may attempt to explain the problem through the lens of cultural acceptance of Power Distance. Geert Hofstede, in his cultural dimensions, described the Power Distance Index as a measure of the extent to which less powerful members of a society or organization accept and expect that power is distributed unequally. Japan does score higher (54) than the United States (40) on this metric, but is much lower than some of its neighbors. South Korea has a score of 60, China has a score of 80, and Malaysia maxes out at 100.

The notion that a Japanese workplace is characterized by a strict hierarchy is rapidly fading as lifetime employment and strict workplace loyalty give way. The problem is not that the voice of the boss is "godlike." The problem is that most Japanese workers don't want to cause difficulty for others. It's not as much a desire to please the boss as it is a desire not to cause problems for others in the group. This may explain why so few people in these situations ask for help. During the bubble and the period after, people would go out and drink and socialize to let out frustrations, but now that this practice has also faded (and not in of itself is that a bad thing), the ability to escape the constant stress is also disappearing. People don't talk about their problems because they don't want to show personal weakness in front of others.

This stoic environment creates a fertile ground for power harassment. Bullies can have effective free rein to abuse without consequence. If they get into a position of some authority, their victims will endure in silence to preserve harmony and prevent showing personal weakness. Japanese culture is also higher than the global average on victim blaming. Victims who speak up might actually be ostracized for being disruptive, which discourages individuals from coming forward.

The cost is staggering. Power harassment leads to depression, absenteeism, and suicides. It drains productivity, forces companies to pay damages, and erodes trust in public institutions. In many ways, it resembles the earlier recognition of “karoshi 過労死,” or death by overwork, as a social crisis. Both terms entered the Japanese lexicon when repeated tragedies forced the public to confront what had long been hidden.

Case Study 1: Ibaraki Prefecture

The case of Ibaraki Prefecture is among the most striking examples of systemic power harassment within government. Governor Oigawa, a University of Tokyo graduate and onetime symbol of elite leadership, has been accused of presiding over a toxic office culture.

Since his election in 2017, thirteen employees have taken their own lives. More than one hundred others have been on extended leave for mental health reasons in a single year. The most visible tragedy was that of Takuya Sakuragi, a 41-year-old secretary to Vice Governor Hiroyuki Iizuka.

Five days before his death in October 2023, Sakuragi left a handwritten note. In it, he described an unrelenting environment of humiliation and despair. He called the year “the worst of my life” and admitted he woke each morning wishing either that his superior would die or that he himself would.

His family publicly released the note. They also criticized the punishments that followed, which included only a severe warning for Vice Governor Iizuka and another official. To them, the reprimands were symbolic gestures, not meaningful accountability.

For the public, Sakuragi’s words captured the invisible weight of working in an environment where hierarchy could crush a person’s dignity. The case also raised uncomfortable questions about whether Japan’s political structures are equipped to address harassment within their own ranks.

Case Study 2: A Cosmetics Company and a Court’s Unusual Verdict

If the Ibaraki story revealed systemic rot, the tragedy at D-UP cosmetics exposed the cruelty of unchecked corporate leadership.

Satomi, a new employee in her mid-twenties, joined D-UP with high hopes. Instead, she endured relentless scolding from company president Mitsuru Sakai. In one meeting, she was berated for hours with phrases like “Don’t underestimate adults.” On other occasions, she was called a “stray dog,” a phrase that stripped away her humanity.

The harassment led to a diagnosis of depression. Eventually, she attempted suicide and died without regaining consciousness. Her family sued.

The Tokyo District Court ruling was historic. The company was ordered to pay 150 million yen in damages. More unusually, the court explicitly required Sakai to resign. Within days, he stepped down.

Satomi’s sister spoke at a press conference. She said, “I wanted the president to apologize while she was still alive. Satomi was a hard worker. I hope people will stop crushing people who are working hard, and I hope that society will become more caring and supportive.”

The case sent shockwaves through Japan. It showed that courts could hold top executives personally accountable. It also revealed how much had been tolerated before tragedy forced change.

Case Study 3: Toyonaka City and the Question of Boundaries

Not all stories are clear-cut. In Toyonaka City, Osaka Prefecture, the problem was not a powerful superior but an employee who lashed out.

A 53-year-old man in the city’s Asset Management Division was disciplined for raising his middle finger at his boss and yelling, “Don’t talk like you’re superior.” He had also spent hours browsing shopping sites during work time. City officials demoted him and suspended him for a month.

The man defended himself by saying the language was just “a normal exchange in Osaka dialect.” To him, it was banter. To his boss, it was harassment.

This case illustrates the difficulties in defining boundaries. Power harassment is not always one-directional. Authority can be abused from above, but employees can also weaponize language or gestures against their superiors. The ambiguity complicates both policy and public understanding.

A Problem Beyond Individuals

What links these stories is not simply bad behavior but systemic vulnerability. Japan’s workplaces are structured around hierarchies that create power imbalances. In the hands of responsible leaders, these structures provide clarity and order. In the hands of abusive ones, they become instruments of humiliation.

Legal reforms have begun to address the problem. In 2019, revisions to the Labor Policy Act made it mandatory for large companies to implement measures against harassment. Smaller companies were encouraged to follow suit. Firms were required to establish consultation desks and anti-harassment rules. However, enforcement has been weak, and many workers are hesitant to use internal reporting systems due to fear of retaliation.

Unions and advocacy groups have grown more vocal. Media coverage has exposed tragedies that might once have been hidden. Still, cultural factors remain powerful. The value placed on gaman encourages employees to endure abuse in silence. Mental illness remains stigmatized. Japanese corporate and political culture still often prioritizes protecting authority figures over the interests of subordinates.

The Parallel to Karoshi

The rise of “pawahara パワハラ” echoes the earlier emergence of “karoshi,” or death by overwork. Both terms entered the public lexicon when individual tragedies could no longer be ignored. Both describe structural problems rather than isolated incidents. Both highlight how Japan’s economic success has often been built on human suffering.

Karoshi emerged as a recognized social issue in the 1980s, prompting gradual reforms and increased awareness. Pawahara is now on a similar trajectory. The question is whether awareness will lead to systemic change or whether, like with karoshi, progress will be slow and uneven.

Seeking Help: A Message to Those Affected

For those experiencing power harassment, the stories of Sakuragi and Satomi can feel like confirmation that the system is stacked against them. Yet these cases also show that silence is not the only option. Awareness is growing, and avenues for support are slowly expanding.

The Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare operates hotlines where workers can seek confidential advice. Some unions now run dedicated anti-harassment services. Lawyers specializing in labor law can provide consultations, often for modest fees or through initial free sessions. Larger companies are required by law to provide internal consultation desks, though workers may understandably be cautious about using them.

Outside formal institutions, mental health professionals and support groups offer counseling. Speaking with trusted friends, family, or colleagues can also reduce the isolation that harassment creates. For foreign workers in Japan, international hotlines and embassy resources can help navigate both the legal and cultural barriers.

The most important message is that no one should feel compelled to endure harassment in silence. Seeking help is not weakness. It is a step toward reclaiming dignity. Japan’s culture of gaman should not mean accepting abuse. The tragedies that are forcing the nation to pay attention are also reminders that lives can be saved when people feel empowered to reach out.

Returning to the Human Cost

The stories that open this article reveal the diverse faces of power harassment. In Ibaraki, systemic abuse within government left a trail of suicides and bereaved families. In Tokyo, a young woman’s life was cut short by the cruelty of a corporate president, and only a rare court ruling brought some accountability. In Osaka, a municipal office wrestled with whether misconduct by an employee qualified as harassment.

Together, these stories reveal the fragility of human dignity in Japanese workplaces. They show how authority, when unchecked, can destroy lives. They also demonstrate how cultural and institutional barriers hinder efforts to confront the problem directly.

Power harassment is now a widely recognized term in Japan, but recognition is only the first step toward addressing this issue. Laws and court rulings matter, yet they cannot by themselves change deep-seated cultural norms. The real challenge is to build workplaces where hierarchy does not mean humiliation, where authority is not abused, and where employees do not suffer in silence.

The cost of failing to change is measured in lives lost, families broken, and institutions weakened. The stories of Takuya Sakuragi and Satomi are reminders that behind every policy debate and legal ruling are human beings whose dignity was stripped away by those in power. Japan can no longer afford to treat power harassment as just another workplace issue. It is a social crisis, and one that demands nothing less than a cultural shift.

Resource Box: Where to Seek Help in Japan if You Experience Power Harassment

• Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare Consultation Hotline The national hotline offers free and confidential advice on workplace harassment and labor disputes. Phone: 0120-154-052 (nationwide toll-free number) Website: MHLW Labour Consultation
• Rengo (Japanese Trade Union Confederation) Harassment Consultation Service Provides guidance and support for workers who are members of unions or wish to consult anonymously. Phone: 0120-154-052 (linked to Rengo’s joint hotline) Website: Rengo Support
• Tokyo English Lifeline (TELL) A nonprofit offering free, anonymous, English-language counseling by phone or chat, with referral services for legal and medical needs. Phone: 03-5774-0992 (counseling, 9 AM–11 PM daily) Website: TELL Japan
• Japan Legal Support Center (Houterasu) Provides legal consultations, including for labor-related cases, often at reduced rates. Phone: 0570-078374 Website: Houterasu
• Mental Health Support Local mental health welfare centers (Seishin Hoken Fukushi Center 精神保健福祉センター) operate across prefectures. For immediate crisis intervention: Call 110 (police) or 119 (emergency services).

Note: If you are experiencing power harassment, do not remain silent. Seeking help is not weakness. Support is available in both Japanese and English, and can make the difference between isolation and recovery.