Job mobility in Japan is increasing, with younger and mid-career workers seeking better opportunities. Photo / 123rf
Shota Shimizu slid on his headset and dialled the human resources department at his client’s employer, a nursing care company.
The client wanted to quit her job, and Shimizu was doing it for her.
“There was a mismatch between her expectations and the reality of the job,” Shimizu told the HR representative.
“She still has her uniform and locker key, and will return them by mail. Can we confirm your mailing address?”
Shimizu works for Momuri, a Tokyo-based “resignation company” whose agents quit jobs on behalf of clients who want to avoid the uncomfortable conversation.
Momuri – which means “I can’t take it anymore” in Japanese – is among a niche but increasingly popular industry offering “proxy quitters” in Japan, stepping in for workers who struggle to cut ties with their boss, for up to ¥50,000 ($573.77).
This service has grown since the pandemic, which disrupted Japan’s rigid work culture and challenged the traditional notion of a “salaryman”, an archetypal white-collar worker who enters a company after graduating from university and stays there until retirement. The strict hierarchy in Japanese corporations also makes it difficult to confront bosses.
Some employees use the service because they are being bullied or harassed at work.
Others do so after they worked up the courage to quit or express their concerns, but faced pushback.
Or they want to avoid an ordeal with a superior who isn’t used to an employee tendering their notice.
Like younger generations around the world, quitting is becoming increasingly popular among Japanese people in their 20s and 30s.
The trend of switching jobs is spreading to even mid-career workers – a revolutionary idea in a country where it was long considered nearly impossible to change careers after age 35, partly a result of job openings dwindling in higher ranks.
For decades, Japan’s labour market has been characterised by lifetime employment, tenure-based pay and long, gruelling hours that often extend into compulsory socialising with bosses after work.
This culture developed in the post-war years and flourished through the boom years of the 1980s, when Japan rose to become the world’s second-largest economy.
The expectations around lifetime employment and tenure-based pay, which rewards workers for loyalty rather than performance, began to fade after Japan’s “bubble economy” burst in the 1990s – but the long hours did not.
Now, as Japan faces a rapidly ageing and shrinking workforce, employees have more leverage to find work elsewhere.
Employees are also becoming less tolerant of the workplace dynamics that had been the hallmark of Japanese corporate culture – such as excessively long hours – and feeling more empowered to find new jobs when they are unhappy, experts say.
“This shift marks a real change,” said Kaoru Tsuda, chief researcher at the Indeed Recruit Partners Research Centre in Tokyo.
“Today, there are a wide range of job opportunities available in the labour market, giving workers more choice than ever before.”
Toui Iida, 25, had grown frustrated with the long hours at his maintenance company, but his boss didn’t take his concerns seriously, he said. So he paid someone to quit for him.
“I felt so relieved once I got the confirmation that my resignation had gone through,” said Iida.
He now works for Momuri, he said, because he wanted to help others quit their jobs. Like others who described their resignations in this story, Iida spoke on the condition that it not name his former company to avoid retribution.
Taking the plunge remains relatively rare in Japan, where about 3.3 million people switched jobs in 2024 – a sliver of the nearly 68 million employed that year, according to government figures.
Job mobility in Japan has traditionally been low compared to the OECD average, according to a 2022 white paper released by the Japanese Government.
Tsuguo Ebihara, who studies employment trends at Tokyo’s Taisho University, noted that large corporations, major banks and trading companies known to provide long-term employment and job security remain attractive career paths for college graduates.
Still, the number of people wishing to change jobs has increased significantly in recent years, reflecting growing momentum for more mobility in the labour market, said Tsuda, the researcher.
And more people are seeing wages rise through changing jobs, which could have lasting implications in Japan, where wages have remained stagnant for most of the past three decades, Tsuda said.
Yet in this country, which values social harmony and cohesion often at the expense of individuals’ feelings, telling your boss about how unhappy you are doesn’t come easy.
That might be why more people are turning to resignation agencies, said Keiko Ishii, a Nagoya University professor who studies the perception of social relationships.
“Because people often can’t say how they really feel, when they reach the breaking point – when they think, ‘I just can’t do this anymore’ – they may not be able to say it themselves,” Ishii said. “That’s probably why services that act on behalf of individuals, like resignation agencies, start to seem appealing.”
Nearly one in 10 Japanese companies have received resignations via proxy quitters, according to a 2024 survey by Tokyo Shoko Research.
There is no definitive count of how many people use these services, but surveys and figures from Momuri, the most prominent resignation company, suggest that tens of thousands of Japanese people have used the service in recent years.
Momuri receives about 2500 cases a month, up from about 200 when the business began in 2022, said Shinji Tanimoto, the company’s president.
About 80% of his clients are in their 20s and 30s, but he’s also had older clients, he said, including one who was 83.
Proxy quitters typically contact the HR department to relay their client’s resignation, and don’t get involved in negotiating terms of departure. Some have come under scrutiny from the Tokyo Bar Association for going beyond their legal authority, such as providing legal advice or negotiating severance pay.
Taishi Kusano, who runs the resignation service at the Oitoma agency in Aichi Prefecture, central Japan, said many of his clients preferred to keep the peace at work rather than confront their superiors directly.
The companies that receive proxy calls sometimes have a strong emotional reaction, he said.
“There tends to be a pattern: first confusion, followed by anger. Some managers may feel frustrated that the employee didn’t come to them directly, or anxious that their own performance metrics will suffer due to the sudden departure,” he said.
“But today, the concept is more widely known, and reactions like, ‘Ah, I see,’ are becoming more common.”
As the barrier to quitting gets lower, companies need to change course in how they attract, retain and compensate employees, said Tsuda. Some companies are now evolving to make sure they are a good fit for new hires, especially now that job-seekers have more options, he said.
Kento Sano quit his job at a major travel company at 31 and explored what he wanted to try next, including gardening, freelancing, and working at a bookstore.
He landed back in the travel industry, but at a start-up this time, where he says he could do work he feels passionate about.
“In the end, I came to believe that the best option – the ‘strongest move,’ so to speak – is to enjoy your work as a company employee while still doing things that excite you,” said Sano, now 37.
Mid-career workers like Sano are also increasingly in demand.
When the bubble burst in the 1990s, Japan lost a generation of fulltime workers, who are now in their 40s to early 50s. That means many companies are now in need of people who could take on managerial jobs and are more open to hiring employees older than 35, according to Yoko Kodama, spokeswoman for JAC Recruitment in Tokyo.
“I used to believe that changing jobs wasn’t something you should do,” said Keisuke Ochi, 45.
He had worked at a major distribution company, where he planned to stay until retirement. But the company’s management policies changed significantly, which made him question his future there. Then he noticed more people his age quitting.
“I started to think, ‘Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe with my skills, it wouldn’t be strange for me to change jobs,’” said Ochi, who now works at a financial services firm that he says gives him more flexibility.
The pandemic was a “real game changer” that helped him see how much time he had missed out on at home, he said.
“I truly felt the happiness of having dinner together as a family. I realised how precious that time is.”