When Japan’s future empress joined the country’s elite diplomatic corps in 1987, a year after a major employment equality law went into effect, she was one of only three women recruited. Known then as Masako Owada, she worked long hours and had a rising career as a trade negotiator. She lasted just under six years in the position, and she left to marry crown prince (and now emperor) Naruhito.
Much has changed for Japan’s Foreign Ministry (and, to some extent, for Japanese women in general) in the three decades since.
Since 2020, women have made up nearly half of each class of incoming diplomats, and many women continue their careers after marrying. These advances, in a country where women were predominantly hired only for administrative positions in the 1980s, show how the simple power of numbers can, however slowly, begin to remake work cultures and create a pipeline for leadership.
For years, Japan has promoted women in the workplace to help its faltering economy. Private sector employers have taken some steps, such as encouraging male employees to do more work around the house or setting limits on after-work outings that can complicate child care. But many women still struggle to balance their careers with domestic obligations.
The Foreign Ministry, led by a woman, Yoko Kamikawa, surpasses other government agencies and familiar corporate names such as Mitsubishi, Panasonic and SoftBank in an important sign of progress: placing women in professional jobs.
With more women in the ministry’s ranks, said Kotono Hara, a diplomat, “the way of working is changing dramatically,” with more flexible hours and the option to work remotely.
Ms. Hara was one of six women who joined the ministry in 2005. Last year, she was the event director for a meeting of world leaders that Japan hosted in Hiroshima.
In the run-up to the Group of 7 summit, he worked in the office until 6:30 p.m. and then went home to feed and bathe his preschooler, before checking in with his team online later. that night. Early in her career, she assumed that job was not “the kind of position a mom would do.”
Part of the progress for women in the Foreign Office came as men from elite universities turned to well-paid banking and consulting jobs, and educated women began to see the public sector as attractive.
However, as women rise in the diplomatic corps, they (like their counterparts at other employers) must juggle long work hours in addition to taking on the bulk of duties on the home front.
Ministry staff members often work until 9 or 10 p.m., and sometimes much later. Those hours tend to fall more on women, said Shiori Kusuda, 29, who joined the ministry seven years ago and left earlier this year to work as a consultant in Tokyo.
Many of her male bosses at the Foreign Office, she said, returned home with wives who took care of their meals and clothing, while their female colleagues performed household chores themselves. Men are encouraged to take paternity leave, but if they do, it is usually a matter of days or weeks.
Some parts of the culture have changed, Kusuda said: Her male colleagues proactively served her beer at after-work drinking sessions, rather than waiting for her to serve them. But for women “who need to do laundry or cook after returning home, an extra hour of work is very important,” she Kusuda said.
In 2021, the last year for which government statistics are available, married working women with children took on more than three-quarters of household chores. That burden is compounded by the fact that Japanese employees, on average, work nearly 22 hours of overtime a month, according to a survey last year by Doda, a job search website.
In many professions, overtime hours are much greater, a reality that led the government to recently limit overtime hours to 45 hours a month.
Before the Equal Employment Opportunity Law went into effect in 1986, women were hired primarily for “ochakumi” or “tea serving” jobs. Employers rarely hired women for positions that could lead to executive, managerial, or sales jobs.
Today, Japan is turning to women to address severe labor shortages. Still, although more than 80 percent of women aged 25 to 54 work, they represent just over a quarter of permanent full-time employees. According to government data, only one in eight managers is a woman.
Some executives say women simply choose to limit their careers. Japanese women “are not as ambitious compared to women in the global market,” said Tetsu Yamaguchi, global human resources director at Fast Retailing, the clothing giant that owns Uniqlo. “His priority is taking care of his son instead of developing her career.”
Worldwide, 45 percent of company managers are women. In Japan, that proportion is just over a quarter.
Experts say it’s up to employers to make it easier for women to combine career success and motherhood. Career barriers for women could harm the overall economy, and as the country’s birth rate declines, crushing expectations at work and at home may deter ambitious women from having children.
At Sony, only one in nine managers in Japan are women. The company is taking small steps to support working mothers, such as offering courses for expectant parents that teach them how to change diapers and feed babies.
During a recent class at the company’s Tokyo headquarters, Satoko Sasaki, 35, who was seven months pregnant, watched her husband, Yudai, 29, a Sony software engineer, put on an abdominal prosthesis that simulated the physical sensations of pregnancy.
Mrs. Sasaki, who works as an administrator at another company in Tokyo, said she was touched that her husband’s employer was trying to help men “understand my situation.”
At her own company, she said through tears, “I don’t have a lot of support” from senior male colleagues.
Takayuki Kosaka, the course instructor, showed a graph showing the time spent at home by a typical mother and father during the first 100 days of a baby’s life.
“Dad’s not doing anything!” Mr. Kosaka said, pointing to a blue bar that represents the time the father works from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. “If he comes home at 11 pm, doesn’t that mean he also went out drinking?” he added.
After-work parties with colleagues are almost mandatory in many Japanese companies, exacerbating the culture of overwork. To reduce such commitments, Itochu, a conglomerate that owns the Family Mart convenience store chain, among other companies, requires that all such parties end at 10 p.m., a time that continues to make childcare difficult.
Rina Onishi, 24, who works at Itochu’s Tokyo headquarters, said she attended such parties three times a week. That’s progress, she said: In the past, there were many more.
Nights of drinking add to long days. The company now allows staff members to start work as early as 5 a.m., a policy intended in part to support parents who want to leave earlier. But many employees continue to work overtime. Ms. Onishi arrives at the office at 7:30 a.m. and usually stays until after 6 p.m.
Some women put limits on their work hours, even if it means giving up promotions. Maiko Itagaki, 48, worked at a grueling pace as an advertising copywriter before ending up in hospital with a brain hemorrhage. After recovering, she married and gave birth to a son. But she was in her office when her mother called her to tell her that she had missed her son’s first steps.
“I thought, ‘Why am I working?’” Itagaki said.
He moved to a company that runs direct mail campaigns where he clocks in at 9am and clocks out at 6pm. He turned down a promotion to management. “I thought I would end up sacrificing my private time,” she said. “I felt like they just wanted me to do everything.”
At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Hikariko Ono, Japan’s ambassador to Hungary, was the only woman among the 26 diplomats hired in 1988.
She put off having a child for fear that her bosses would think she wasn’t serious about her career. Today, she reminds her younger colleagues that if they want to have children, they are not alone.
“You can trust daycare, your parents or your friends,” she said. “Or even your husband.”