Visit Japan today and you could be forgiven for thinking it had weathered the storms that have buffeted Western economies in recent years. Its cities hum with prosperity: Tokyo’s streets are lined with luxury shops and packed restaurants, while immaculate highways and spotless cars convey an impression of modern efficiency. Levels of public trust and safety remain enviably high, and inflation is low compared to Britain. For foreign visitors, Japan feels like a bargain. A lavish multi-course meal can cost little more than a fast-food combo back home.
Scratch beneath the surface, however, and the story is much less rosy – especially for those who live and work there. Wages are stagnant, the minimum barely half that of the UK’s living wage, and a punishing consumption tax erodes what little income low-paid workers can take home. Japan’s demographic crisis looms ever larger, with young people increasingly convinced they cannot afford to marry or raise children.
And just as in Britain, this social and economic malaise has exploded into political disruption.
Collapse of the post-war consensus
For decades, Japan’s ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) was as dominant as Britain’s Conservatives and Labour combined. Founded in 1955, it steered the nation from post-war devastation to prosperity and rarely surrendered power. That era is now over.
Prime minister Shigeru Ishiba’s resignation last week, after less than a year in office, capped an extraordinary collapse. For the first time, the LDP and its coalition partner Komeito have lost their majority in both houses of parliament. Two insurgent forces surged instead: the centrist Democratic Party for the People (DPP), promising higher pay and renewed technological ambition; and Sanseito, a nationalist party led by YouTube firebrand Sohei Kamiya, which draws its strongest support from younger voters.
The echoes of British politics are uncanny.
Just as Labour’s once-loyal “red wall” has crumbled, and the Conservatives have been consumed by civil war and populist revolt, Japan’s monolithic ruling bloc is being eaten away from both sides. And just as Nigel Farage turned social resentment into political capital, Kamiya has harnessed digital platforms to stoke nationalism, railing against “nuisance foreigners” and urging a Japan-first agenda.
Parallel discontents
At heart, both Japan and Britain are struggling with the same dilemma: how to preserve prosperity and social stability in an era of falling real wages, declining global influence and demographic strain.
- Economic precarity: Japanese convenience store clerks earning £5 an hour and British hospitality workers on zero-hours contracts face the same sense of insecurity.
- National identity: In both countries, nationalist movements claim that globalism has eroded sovereignty and cultural distinctiveness.
- Tourism and migration: Where Britons fret about immigration and asylum, Japan debates whether an influx of tourists and foreign workers undermines tradition and drives up costs.
- Generational divide: Young voters in both societies are disproportionately drawn to populist alternatives, finding little to inspire them in tired old parties.
Britain yesterday, Japan today
Japan’s political insurgency may be more recent, but Britain provides the cautionary tale of what happens when disillusionment hardens into permanent fracture. The UK’s once-stable two-party system now seems permanently destabilised, and Japan appears to be entering a similar era of volatility.
For both nations, the question is the same: will the centre adapt fast enough to address declining living standards and demographic anxiety, or will insurgents reshape politics in their own image?
For now, Japan’s gleaming surface may obscure its turmoil. But look closely, and it reflects back something hauntingly familiar to British eyes.