One of the surprising things that comes out of survey data on young people in Japan is that they have much lower 'hope for the future' (
shōrai e no kibō =将来への希望) than their peers in other countries. For example,
2014 data showed only 66.2% of Japanese youth thought they would be happy when they were 40; in contrast, the figures for the other countries in the survey were all in the eighties. When talking to my students about this anxiety for the future, the key reasons seem to centre on work - low salaries, long working hours - and whether they will be able to receive a pension in the future.
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A recent
FSA report on pensions merely fuelled this anxiety. Based on estimates of average living costs, the report highlighted that the public pension would be insufficient and estimated that an elderly couple living until 95 - 30 years after retirement - would need savings of some ¥20 million (£150,000/$185,000) to make up the shortfall. The ¥20 million figure caused a sensation in the media and was quickly
disowned by the government: Aso, the finance minister infamous for fine dining and drinking in luxury hotels, said he would "not accept" the report and argued that the pension system "will never collapse." But burying the report doesn't change the fact that the figures were entirely valid: today, the rate of poverty amongst the elderly - currently estimated at around 19.4% - is even higher than the overall figure of 1 in 6 Japanese living below the poverty line (poverty and food banks were discussed in
this earlier post).
So how do Japanese save money (
setsuyaku =節約)? ¥1000 haircuts and "one coin" (¥500) lunches are one way, but thrifty shopping is surely the most common strategy. The growth of 100-yen (
hyaku-en) shops in particular has been
dramatic in the last twenty years, and at the same time as department stores have been struggling, thrift-chains like
Daiso have been thriving selling cheap - but nevertheless reasonable quality and hugely diverse - products.
Cosmetics in particular are hugely popular both among both Japanese and tourists, who buy bucket-loads as souvenirs! It's not only cosmetics either - there's loads of other products perfect for souvenirs, such as origami, toys, study materials, and snacks (see
here). The picture below shows some other unique products: special decorative envelopes Japanese use for giving money at weddings and funerals; chopsticks, including special ones to teach children how to hold them properly; and a massive selection of bento boxes!
Talk of discount shopping wouldn't be complete without mentioning Don Quijote (ドン・キホーテ) usually abbreviated to Donki. Donki is a discount chain store which came into its own following the bursting of the economic bubble at the beginning of the 1990s: today there are over 160 stores in Japan, with others in Singapore, Thailand, and Hawaii. The stores are usually massive, open late, and full of all sorts of weird and wacky
products, including anime goods and cosplay-style costumes. As you walk into the store, there is a sign that says
kyōyasu no dendō (驚安の殿堂). This literally means "surprisingly cheap palace", though the
kyōyasu is a made-up word: the Donki
homepage explains that in contrast to the usual word for dirt-cheap,
gekiyasu (激安),
kyōyasu is supposed to capture the thrill/excitement/overflowing surprise at the cheap prices. I suspect, though, that for the millions of pensioners struggling to get by - and the youngsters fearful of never receiving a pension at all - the feeling is probably more akin to relief at somehow just being able to get by.
One of the surprising things that comes out of survey data on young people in Japan is that they have much lower 'hope for the future' (shōrai e no kibō =将来への希望) than their peers in other countries. For example, 2014 data showed only 66.2% of Japanese youth thought they would be happy when they were 40; in contrast, the figures for the other countries in the survey were all in the eighties. When talking to my students about this anxiety for the future, the key reasons seem to centre on work - low salaries, long working hours - and whether they will be able to receive a pension in the future.
So how do Japanese save money (setsuyaku =節約)? ¥1000 haircuts and "one coin" (¥500) lunches are one way, but thrifty shopping is surely the most common strategy. The growth of 100-yen (hyaku-en) shops in particular has been dramatic in the last twenty years, and at the same time as department stores have been struggling, thrift-chains like Daiso have been thriving selling cheap - but nevertheless reasonable quality and hugely diverse - products. Cosmetics in particular are hugely popular both among both Japanese and tourists, who buy bucket-loads as souvenirs! It's not only cosmetics either - there's loads of other products perfect for souvenirs, such as origami, toys, study materials, and snacks (see here). The picture below shows some other unique products: special decorative envelopes Japanese use for giving money at weddings and funerals; chopsticks, including special ones to teach children how to hold them properly; and a massive selection of bento boxes!
Talk of discount shopping wouldn't be complete without mentioning Don Quijote (ドン・キホーテ) usually abbreviated to Donki. Donki is a discount chain store which came into its own following the bursting of the economic bubble at the beginning of the 1990s: today there are over 160 stores in Japan, with others in Singapore, Thailand, and Hawaii. The stores are usually massive, open late, and full of all sorts of weird and wacky products, including anime goods and cosplay-style costumes. As you walk into the store, there is a sign that says kyōyasu no dendō (驚安の殿堂). This literally means "surprisingly cheap palace", though the kyōyasu is a made-up word: the Donki homepage explains that in contrast to the usual word for dirt-cheap, gekiyasu (激安), kyōyasu is supposed to capture the thrill/excitement/overflowing surprise at the cheap prices. I suspect, though, that for the millions of pensioners struggling to get by - and the youngsters fearful of never receiving a pension at all - the feeling is probably more akin to relief at somehow just being able to get by.