Japan raises the bar on residency. Cue the outrage

From the US green card to the UK’s “indefinite leave to remain,” permanent residency in a country that’s not your own can be a prickly issue. Japan is now getting choosier about who gets to stay for good.

Under Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, the country has tightened various rules around immigration, including higher renewal fees for visas and stricter enforcement of overstayers. The latest proposal is to raise the bar on permanent residency, adding requirements for minimum salary and Japanese language ability.

Critics, and some residents, are up in arms at the suggested changes. The Asahi daily deemed them “a revision that will doom the dreams and enthusiasm of foreigners.” Some liken the moves to anti-immigration crackdowns taken by the Trump administration and other right-wing governments. “Japan should not shut the door on permanent residents,” said the Mainichi.


But the changes are boringly conventional by the standards of peers. They draw a clearer line between permission to come to Japan for work and the right to remain permanently, part of a long-delayed overhaul that, by shoring up a patchwork of outdated rules, explicitly acknowledges Japan’s substantial future need for foreign labor.

The proposals are still subject to change before introduction next year, but envisage taking into account language proficiency, requiring a household income above the national average, and examining applicants’ ability to remain solvent after retirement. These are not unreasonable.

Japan was long an outlier in requiring neither language ability nor an explicit minimum salary, instead largely gatekeeping PR behind the number of years spent in the country — seemingly assuming that only the very dedicated would stay so long anyway.

Indeed until quite recently, it made remarkably little distinction between a Goldman Sachs banker and an English teacher when it came to awarding permanent residency. Assuming candidates had put in the years and met vague guidelines on good behavior, the country didn’t really seem to care. The total number of foreigners was so low for so long, it wasn’t that important anyway.

This began to change in 2017, when a fast-track PR system for “highly skilled professionals” was added by then-Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, who promised access to permanent residency that would be among the fastest in the world. By further separating permission to work from an entitlement to remain permanently, the latest changes merely advance this policy.

Any time there is a change to Japan’s immigration system, there are predictable complaints that foreign workers will look elsewhere. As far back as two decades ago, supposedly draconian fingerprinting at the border was set to scare foreigners away; during the pandemic, longer border closures than similar countries was expected to scare potential employees away forever. Instead, the number of foreign workers has continued to hit records. These latest changes will have just as much long-term impact on the country’s ability to attract talent, which is to say, precisely none.

The proposal has similarities to policies in places such as Singapore or South Korea, nations that increasingly rely on foreign labor but have selective standards for permanent residency and (explicitly or implicitly) examine language, salary and level of integration. And conditions would nonetheless be far less onerous than in many states that, despite dangerous or outright abusive working conditions, continue to attract foreign labor.

Concern about scaring away the most attractive talent is also overstated: Abe’s fast-track “green card” remains in place, with exceptions for highly skilled workers to quickly acquire permanent residency in a points-based scheme. The ultra-fast track “J-Skip” program for very high earners also remains.

By maintaining these carve-outs, the government thinks it can become more choosy, keeping only the most skilled and determined, while maintaining a more fluid base of non-permanent labor. And it’s probably right. Critics often fail to appreciate that the Japan of today is no longer a country that needs to bend over backwards to advertise itself as a destination.

It also no longer needs, to quote the title of a book on a government scheme to bring foreign teachers to rural areas, to “import diversity.” These days, the foreign population is flourishing, for the simple reason that business needs them. For those seeking opportunity beyond their home country, economic incentives will almost always trump other concerns.

The proposals are not perfect. Income is only a rough proxy for economic value; Japan will in future likely have to make exceptions for sectors where workers are needed but poorly paid, most notably nursing and care work. Authorities should allow a crossover period to grandfather in residents who were expecting to qualify under the current rules. And most importantly, these changes should be communicated far more clearly. Much of the confusion among the foreign community is due to continuous piecemeal leaks of policy to domestic media, who can report the changes out of context.

But critics who damn every change should look at ructions elsewhere to see what happens when mainstream politicians fail to create a structure that acknowledges and manages a growing population of foreign labor. Japan isn’t pretending anymore that it doesn’t have an immigration strategy. That means it must grow more selective about who gets to stay.