Arrival - First Impressions
My first real experience of Japanese culture was stepping out of Shinjuku Station with my family, ready to meet our tour guide for an evening stroll around Tokyo's famous nightlife. It was the middle of summer, notorious for its sweltering, humid temperatures, and we were in the midst of a heatwave. The BBC Weather app reported 38°C, feeling like 48°C (118°F). Actually finding the tour guide was the next challenge. We had no idea that Shinjuku is the busiest train station in the world, handling 3.5 million passengers daily; in fact, of the 51 busiest stations globally, all but six are in Japan[1.]! Amidst the initial chaos, patterns began to emerge in both the station's layout and the behaviours of the Japanese people.
Besides the visual impact of Tokyo, with LED billboards adorning most buildings, the real cultural difference from most Western countries lies in its adherence to a clear set of explicit societal norms: valuing order, routine, politeness, and formality. This was evident during my visit to Shinjuku. Despite the incredible crowds, there was no need to push through; respect for personal space was paramount. Like in the UK's London Underground, where you stand on one side of an escalator, Japan extends this practice to pedestrian zones, ensuring smooth flows of people. Even the Shibuya Scramble Crossing, with up to 3,000 people[2.] crossing simultaneously, exhibits a certain order. Walking through stations, malls, and streets, you quickly learn which side to walk on.
My favourite aspect of the train system in Japan is its punctuality. Whether it's a local train, city-to-city service, or the rapid Shinkansen (Bullet Train), trains arrive exactly as scheduled. A famous example is the management on the Tsukuba Express line apologising for a train that left twenty seconds early[3.]. When we travelled from Tokyo to Hiroshima, the Shinkansen arrived and opened its doors precisely on time, despite covering 800 km in four and a half hours. Each part of the journey is meticulously organised, with clear information on where to stand on the platform and how to prepare for an efficient exit—sometimes you have only a few seconds to depart.
Another personal delight is the clear signage in the station; each line has its own colour allowing for quick visual confirmation of where to head. As with the Shinkansen the platforms inform you where to stand with queuing lines and disembarkment areas to allow people alighting to leave easily. Often, when I arrive at the train station in my hometown of Bath, I'm faced with the challenge of getting off the train. Bath, a stunningly beautiful Georgian city straight from the stories of Jane Austen or Netflix’s Bridgerton, is overwhelmed by tourists, outnumbering locals 60-1 with over 6 million visitors per year[4.]. Disembarking from a train onto a crowded platform can be a formidable challenge, further complicated by the impatient glances from those wondering why you're not moving faster! While the UK takes pride in its queuing etiquette, Japan elevates this practice to an art form. Similar to the UK, people in Japan stand on one side of the elevator, but unlike the sometimes chaotic scene at the bottom in the UK, in Japan, individuals will even step away from the elevator to find the end of the queue. This dedication to orderliness ensures a smooth and respectful flow of people, even in the most bustling environments.
Returning to Shinjuku, we met our tour guide outside the building adorned with the 3D cat video on loop. Kumiko, who was incredibly polite and brimming with energy, was eager to ensure we had the best experience possible. Our three-hour walking tour explored the "Dark Side of Tokyo," delving into the area's history of drinking and vice establishments that have since been revitalised into popular tourist destinations. We wandered through the narrow bar districts of Omoide Yokocho and Golden Gai, where the enticing aromas of yakitori (grilled chicken skewers) and draught beer wafted from tiny bars that accommodate only a handful of guests at a time.
We also visited Kabukicho, a seedier area known for its Hostess Clubs. For an insightful perspective on these establishments, Chris Broad's “Abroad in Japan”[5.] offers a detailed account of his experiences. He describes how hostess clubs provide companionship and how Japanese people often express their true feelings only after a few drinks, resuming normal life the next day.
A hostess bar, common in Japan, is a drinking establishment where female hostesses are hired to entertain and engage with customers. Unlike typical bars, where patrons might simply order drinks and leave, hostess bars emphasise creating a social and enjoyable atmosphere through interaction. Hostesses converse with guests, play games, and sometimes participate in karaoke, focusing on companionship rather than just drinking.
Kumiko approached these aspects of Tokyo’s culture without judgement, presenting them as integral parts of the city’s social fabric. She also discussed Love Hotels, which, while they may sound questionable at first, play a crucial role in relationships. In a society where public displays of affection are often frowned upon and families frequently live in cramped quarters, Love Hotels provide couples with a private space to spend quality time together.
As we concluded our exploration of Tokyo's vibrant nightlife, Kumiko shared a final perspicacious observation on Japanese culture, encapsulated in the phrase: "出る杭は打たれる" (deru kui wa utareru). This translates to "The nail that sticks out gets hammered down," illustrating the cultural tendency to resist or criticise those who stand out or deviate from the norm. This idiom reflects a broader emphasis on conformity and the challenges faced by individuals who diverge from societal expectations. We will revisit this concept later, but for now, let’s shift our focus to the main purpose of this article: examining whether Japanese society is inclusive of autistic individuals.
Autism and Japanese Culture
Autism is a neurodevelopmental condition, genetic in origin, that is characterised by deficits in social communication and interaction with restricted, repetitive patterns of behaviour, interests, or activities. Further behaviours can emerge such hyper (over) or hypo (under) sensitivity to external stimuli such as noise, light and physical contact; difficulty maintaining eye contact; hyper systemisation and the need for structure and routine.
Several aspects of Japanese culture can be particularly suited to autistic individuals:
Structure and Routine: Japanese society often values order, routine, and predictability, which can be comforting to those who thrive on structure.
Respect for Personal Space: The culture tends to respect personal boundaries and spaces, which can be beneficial for autistic individuals who may need more personal space.
Quiet and Cleanliness: Many public places in Japan are quiet and clean, reducing sensory overload that can be challenging for autistic individuals.
Clear Social Norms: Japanese social interactions often follow clear, explicit norms and rules, which can help those who find social cues and expectations challenging.
Politeness and Formality: The culture's emphasis on politeness and formal communication can create a more predictable and less confrontational social environment.
Technology and Innovation: Japan's advancements in technology and accessibility can provide supportive tools for communication and daily living.
Let’s examine each aspect of autism and discuss the relevance within Japanese Culture; finally we’ll address whether Japan is accepting of autism spectrum disorder within its society and whether social stigma is prevalent.
Social Communication and Interaction
Autistic individuals may face difficulties in initiating social interactions or responding appropriately in social contexts. This struggle may manifest in uncertainty about when to start or end conversations, leading to difficulties in maintaining social connections. As a coping mechanism, they might rely on social scripting—pre-rehearsed verbal and nonverbal responses—to navigate such interactions. Engaging in polite conversation has always posed a challenge for me; I lack the skills and desire to participate in social chit-chat; sometimes it feels like everyone was given the ‘Social Manual’ apart from me. While I grasp the importance of such interactions in building relationships, fostering trust, and expressing care and interest in others' well-being, I struggle to find intrinsic motivation for it. Nonetheless, I recognise its indispensable role in societal dynamics.
In Japan, formal spoken language are rule-based and vary based on context, social hierarchy, and the relationship between the speakers. Known as Keigo (敬語) [6.], is an overarching term for honorific language used to show respect and politeness. It is divided into three main categories:
Sonkeigo (尊敬語) - Respectful Language: Used to elevate the status of the person being spoken to or about.
Kenjōgo (謙譲語) - Humble Language: Used to lower the speaker's status in relation to the listener, showing humility.
Teineigo (丁寧語) - Polite Language: General politeness used in everyday interactions, regardless of hierarchy.
As with autistic social scripting, Japanese often will initiate a set of scripted questions when they first meet someone to establish the form of communication necessary. Quoting from Chris Broad in his book Abroad in Japan[5.]:
In Japan, who you’re talking to determines how you talk (Keigo), and this explains why, in most ice-breaking interactions, the conversation seldom deviates from a formal fixed pattern. It’s rare to chat with a Japanese person and not have the same three questions pop up.
‘Where are you from?’ ‘How old are you?’ ‘What do you do?’
Having a clearer, rule-based language lends itself well to autistic traits, helping to avoid potential misunderstandings and conflicts. For autistic individuals, the structured nature of Keigo provides a predictable framework for social interactions, reducing anxiety and making it easier to navigate complex social hierarchies. This system of honorifics can serve as a social script, guiding appropriate responses and behaviours, thereby facilitating smoother communication and integration into Japanese society.
In a recent paper titled "The Dual Process Theory of Autism" from the University of Bath [7.], researchers propose that autistic people exhibit heightened deliberative (slower) processing alongside diminished intuitive (faster) processing. The fundamental notion suggests that when the predictive processing part of the brain is inundated with sensory information, decision-making tendencies may lean more toward deliberate thinking rather than intuitive responses. Due to the tendency for slower, deliberate thinking, autistic individuals are more inclined to thoroughly consider all aspects of a question before providing an answer. This delay in communication can create an uneasy feeling in western communication where prompt and immediate responses are considered the norm.
Japanese social communication highly values carefully considered thoughts and the meaningful use of silence when words are not necessary. Reflecting on Chris Broad's[5.] experience when he first began teaching English in Japan, he describes his initial meeting with the school principal and one of his future colleagues:
After a few moments of polite small talk, something I'd never experienced before happened. Both Kouchou sensei and Nishiyama sensei went completely silent. I’m not talking about a momentary awkward silence. I’m talking about a deafening silence that went on forever. It was as if we initiated some kind of impromptu meditation session. It might sound trivial, but it was phenomenally uncomfortable, and genuinely concerning. Had I said something wrong? No one even looked round or out of the window. Nishiyama and the principal sat motionlessly, staring at the green tea, as if they’d been powered down.
Chinmoku (沈黙) is the Japanese word for "silence," and it holds significant cultural and social importance in Japan, with different connotations and meanings based on context.
In communication, silence can signify respect and thoughtfulness, allowing others to speak or showing that one is thoughtfully considering what has been said. Japanese culture values non-verbal cues highly, and silence can be a powerful tool for conveying feelings and intentions without words. This respect for silence is also linked to conflict avoidance. Maintaining harmony (wa, 和) in relationships is crucial in Japanese society, and silence is often used to prevent confrontation or conflict, thereby preserving social harmony. Additionally, silence can help avoid embarrassing situations, allowing both parties to "save face" and maintain dignity.
Chinmoku is more than just the absence of sound; it is a nuanced and powerful aspect of Japanese communication. It intersects with autism in ways that can facilitate more comfortable and manageable social interactions. By providing time to process, reducing conversational pressure, and aligning with the preference for clear and structured communication, chinmoku can support autistic individuals in navigating social dynamics more effectively.
One final aspect to consider is the autistic trait of avoiding eye contact. While it may seem intuitive to categorise sensitivity to eye contact under visual stimuli, a deeper examination reveals that it is not necessarily rooted in an overload of visual information, such as light or other stimuli. For some autistic individuals, eye contact can evoke strong physical discomfort, largely stemming from social anxiety. Others may struggle with understanding and interpreting social cues, including those conveyed through eye contact. Consequently, maintaining eye contact while simultaneously processing verbal and nonverbal communication can be challenging for them.
In Japan, it is considered intrusive to spend too long making direct eye contact, and children are taught to gaze at the neck as it keeps eye contact in the periphery. Japanese people often judge direct gaze faces as more angry, unapproachable, and unpleasant[8.]. This cultural norm aligns well with the preferences of many autistic individuals, reducing the pressure to maintain eye contact and thus easing social interactions. By understanding and respecting these subtleties, communication can become more comfortable and effective for autistic individuals in Japanese society.
Autistic restricted and repetitive patterns of behaviour
Autistic rigidity to routine reflects a strong preference for predictability, structure, and consistency in daily routines and environments. Autistic individuals often derive comfort and security from following established routines, as they provide a sense of stability and control in their lives. While this term may carry negative connotations, establishing such a baseline can actually serve as a foundation, enabling an autistic person to build a structured framework in their life, allowing their more creative and positive aspects to shine through.
From our initial discussion, we’ve observed the many routines that define daily life in Japan, which permeate all aspects of the experience. Dining out in Japan, whether at a restaurant or a takeaway, involves adhering to various social norms and rules. One of my favourites is the oshibori (お絞り), a wet towel provided to clean one’s hands before a meal—warm in winter and chilled in summer. This practice reflects Japan’s strong emphasis on cleanliness and hospitality - although using the oshibori on one’s face is considered rude! Hopefully, establishments like Wagamama will adopt this practice in the future! Other routines to note is Japanese will normally always start with a beer; quoting from “Abroad in Japan”:
I quickly learned that regardless of what you want to drink in Japan, everyone, without fail, starts with namabiiru (生ビール) - draught beer. It’s an unwritten rule of Japanese etiquette. It doesn’t matter what Brand, just as long as it’s a draught beer. Whether it’s a work party or with friends, it’s extremely rare for anyone to choose anything else, and the reason behind it is not to complicate the first order and to swiftly get drinks into everyone’s hands.
In Japanese dining culture, it is customary to refill others' drinks when they are empty, and this courtesy is typically reciprocated for you. Upon arriving at a bar or izakaya (居酒屋), you will often be presented with an otoshi (お通し), a complimentary bar snack. For example, in Hiroshima, we were served a delightful selection of vegetables in broth, though it is often spiced edamame beans. This is a notable step up from the UK, where you're often lucky to receive just peanuts.
Cleanliness is a prominent feature in Japan. Meals are often served on trays, and it is considered polite to tidy up after yourself once you’ve finished eating. One noticeable aspect upon arrival in Japan is the absence of people walking around with takeaway coffees—indeed, I didn’t see anyone doing so. It is considered rude to eat or drink while walking; you are expected to consume your food or drink on or near the premises where it was purchased. Even on the subway we never saw anyone eating or drinking; apart from the Shinkansen where everyone purchases the ekiben (駅弁), a decorative boxed meal sold at train stations - a travel tradition I was more than happy to participate in.
Additionally, bins are not commonly found in public areas. It is expected that you will take your trash home with you. In contrast, in my hometown of Bath, we have bins everywhere, yet we still encounter litter on the streets, which the street cleaners constantly manage. It makes me wonder whether a similar no-bin policy would lead to a cleaner environment or exacerbate the problem.
Perhaps one irony is the concept of Mottainai (もったいない), a Japanese term that expresses a sense of regret over waste in particular food; it embodies a deep respect for the intrinsic value of resources, advocating for their careful and efficient use. To quote again from Chris Broad[5.]:
‘Mottainai, Chris sensei! Please don’t leave it behind. Either eat it or don’t order it.’
Meanwhile, Komako sensei’s desk was essentially a landfill site, littered with the plastic wrappers of a thousand individually wrapped KitKats.
You’ll see this is in any of the 20,000+ 7-eleven convenience stores across Japan. From single boxed egg, bag of individually wrapped cookies to one-cup filter coffee bags - all is forgiven though once you try the yakitori (grilled chicken) or the nikuman (steamed pork bun). You can even get hot water for your cup noodle pot!
Hypersensitivity and Hyposensitivity to Sensory Stimuli
Hypersensitivity and hyposensitivity to sensory stimuli are observed in over 90% of autistic individuals[9.], underscoring their significant impact on daily life. These sensitivities can lead to feelings of being overwhelmed, physical discomfort, difficulty concentrating, avoidance behaviour, and ultimately meltdowns and burnout. The profound effect of hypersensitivities on the quality of life and well-being of autistic individuals highlights the critical need to acknowledge and accommodate sensory needs within supportive environments.
Masking, a common coping mechanism among autistic individuals to conform to neurotypical behaviour, often involves disregarding one's body's feedback on these sensitivities. Individuals may assume that their sensory difficulties are unique because others do not appear to experience similar challenges, prompting them to conceal or minimise their experiences.
Japanese society offers certain aspects that make it a more inclusive culture for those with sensory sensitivities. For example, quiet public spaces are a hallmark of Japanese life. Public transportation, libraries, and parks are characterised by relatively low noise levels, with people generally speaking in low tones. This cultural emphasis on maintaining a peaceful environment is beneficial for individuals sensitive to loud noises. On trains, it is common to see passengers using their mobiles and wearing headphones, contributing to a quieter atmosphere.
Additionally, the avoidance of strong smells is prevalent in Japanese culture. Food and drink in public spaces typically do not emit strong odours, and there is a general aversion to strong perfumes and colognes. Many personal care products, including shampoos and soaps, are lightly scented or fragrance-free. Wearing a strong fragrance may even cause people to move away from you.
Japan also maintains good air quality in cities and towns through strict pollution controls, reducing the presence of strong industrial or vehicular smells. During our stay in Japan, we used Airbnb accommodations, and each one was equipped with air purifiers and even robot vacuum cleaners, further contributing to a comfortable and sensory-friendly environment.
One noticeable aspect of Japanese culture is that sunglasses are not commonly worn. As someone with sensitive eyes, I always make sure to have sunglasses on hand to avoid discomfort on sunny days. The reasons for the limited use of sunglasses in Japan are multifaceted. Predominantly urban living and frequent cloudy weather reduce the need for them. Additionally, sunglasses are often associated with celebrities and the yakuza (Japanese Mafia), contributing to their perception as a flashy accessory. This ties into the broader cultural norm of avoiding behaviours that make one stand out.
Special Interests
So, is a "special interest" just a hobby that atypicals are intensely passionate about and may devote a significant amount of time and attention to? These interests go beyond what might be considered typical enthusiasm for a subject and can become a central focus in the individual's life. Special interests can vary widely and are too numerous and diverse to list; stereotypical autistic hobbies include trains, dinosaurs, computers, astronomy, specific TV shows or movies, music, history, and many others. They may engage deeply with their special interests, spending hours researching, collecting information, creating, or participating in related activities.
Quoting from a 2023 paper[8.]: A Cross-Cultural Exploration of Life on the Spectrum in Japan and the West:
The majority of autistic people (as many as 85%) possess restricted interests, or “highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).” Research suggests that restricted interests in autistic people likely fall into specific categories, and some topics frequently occur within those categories. These include items relating to objects and cartoons, particularly anime, with some studies showing that animation is one of the most commonly represented restricted interests in children on the autism spectrum
Visiting Akihabara, better known as Electric Town, in Tokyo it is very evident the Japanese love of manga and anime with endless multilevel shops dedicated to the media in all its forms with many collectibles - don’t be surprised to see people dressed in cosplay of their favourite characters.
So, is Japan actually an autism inclusive society?
Finally the exam question. There’s no doubt that many aspects of Japanese culture lend themselves to creating an environment that suits itself to people on the autistic spectrum but do the Japanese people accept people who are autistic? One dynamic which helps explain is cultural strive for perfectionism - another common trait with autism. A last example from Chris Broad’s book[5.] from when he was teaching English with his fellow colleague Naoko:
The class knew instantly that he got it wrong and erupted once again to giggles.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang that instantly shut us all up. The boy had smashed his textbooks into his desk, sending his stationery flying and startling both myself Naoka sensei, as we dodge the flying pencils.
It seems the student hadn’t taken kindly to being mocked by the whole class.
‘Sensei! Ursai! They need to shut up!’ he yelled, banging his books a second time.
Never had I felt the atmosphere change so fast in a classroom.
Making mistakes in the classroom meant exposing oneself to mockery, and in the fragile collectivist dynamic of a Japanese classroom, standing out and being made fun of could lead to being a target of long-term bullying, as I would soon find out.
Chris’ experience continues in his book where even some of the teacher’s will join in with the bullying. This example takes us back to the words of Kumiko, our guide in Tokyo: "The nail that sticks out gets hammered down,". From the previous study[8.] it continues the dialogue:
One study comparing Japanese and U.S. university students on autism knowledge and acceptance revealed that, compared with U.S. students, autism was significantly more stigmatised in Japan. Following an intervention, Japanese students still stigmatised those with the condition to a high extent, unlike U.S. students. This suggests that the aspects of autism that make a person “different” may be less appreciated in a more collectivist culture like Japan
Japanese society is becoming more aware and accepting of autism, but cultural norms around conformity and stigma still pose challenges. The increasing efforts in education, advocacy, and support services are positive steps toward greater inclusion and acceptance. Autistic individuals in Japan can benefit from the cultural emphasis on quiet and orderly environments, but continued progress is needed to fully embrace neurodiversity and provide comprehensive support.
A final thought on my experiences in Japan: on arrival I was overwhelmed by the vastly different culture with bright lights and a bewildering number of people. But with retrospection I now see a society which aligns closely to my ideals and offers a level of inclusion from an environmental and organisational level. I recognise my review is only surface thin and deeper acceptance of neurodivergent people is still only just beginning in Japan whereas in the UK there has been a steep rise in awareness over the last decade.
"ありがとうございます" (arigatou gozaimasu)
Bonus Extra
Just to re-emphasise the cultural differences of Japan and the level of self-organisation with clear rules and social norms I found this picture which gives a good visual representation.
References
Broad Chris. Abroad in Japan. Transworld Digital. 2024.
Ashwin, C., & Brosnan, M. (2019). The Dual Process Theory of Autism. In K. Morsanyi, & R. Byrne (Eds.), Thinking, Reasoning, and Decision Making in Autism (1st ed.). CRC Press. https://www.crcpress.com/Thinking-Reasoning-and-Decision-Making-in-Autism/Morsanyi-Byrne/p/book/9781138481176
Atherton, G., Morimoto, Y., Nakashima, S., & Cross, L. (2023). Does the Study of Culture Enrich Our Understanding of Autism? A Cross-Cultural Exploration of Life on the Spectrum in Japan and the West. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 54(5), 610-634. https://doi.org/10.1177/00220221231169945
Wang, C., Derderian, K. D., Hamada, E., Zhou, X., Nelson, A. D., Kyoung, H., Ahituv, N., Bouvier, G., & Bender, K. J. (2024). Impaired cerebellar plasticity hypersensitizes sensory reflexes in SCN2A-associated ASD. Neuron. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuron.2024.01.029
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