JAKARTA – Japan has long been recognized for its deeply ingrained shame culture, especially in cases involving corruption. Public officials caught in corruption scandals often take full responsibility by resigning immediately, and in extreme cases, some have even resorted to hara-kiri (seppuku), a ritual suicide practiced to preserve honor. This cultural phenomenon stands in stark contrast to Indonesia, where public officials entangled in corruption cases often return to political life after serving their sentences, with little to no signs of remorse.
The disparity between the two countries raises a critical question: Why is Indonesia, a nation known for its religious values, unable to emulate Japan’s strict moral stance against corruption?
Notable Cases of Shame Culture Among Japanese Officials
Japan’s culture of shame has repeatedly demonstrated its strong grip on political and social life. High-ranking officials implicated in corruption scandals do not simply serve legal consequences; they also bear immense social pressure, leading them to resign or make public apologies. Several cases illustrate how this principle is deeply embedded in Japanese society.
One of the most striking examples is Toshikatsu Matsuoka, Japan’s Minister of Agriculture, Forestry, and Fisheries, who was found dead by hanging in his Tokyo apartment on May 28, 2007. At the time, he was under investigation for alleged misappropriation of departmental funds and involvement in political funding scandals. Matsuoka’s suicide occurred just hours before he was scheduled to appear before Parliament for questioning, underscoring the weight of public scrutiny in Japanese politics.
Similarly, Keishu Tanaka, Japan’s Minister of Justice, resigned in October 2012 following revelations about his past ties with the yakuza—Japan’s infamous organized crime syndicates—as well as political funding violations. Though he did not resort to suicide, his resignation was swift, demonstrating the severe consequences of being associated with criminal activities in Japan.
Another notable case is Akira Amari, Japan’s Minister of Economy, who stepped down in January 2015 after allegations surfaced that his staff had accepted bribes amounting to 12 million yen from a construction company. Despite denying personal involvement, Amari took responsibility for his subordinates’ actions and resigned to maintain the government’s credibility.
Even cases that might seem minor by global standards have prompted swift resignations. In 2019, Isshu Sugawara, Japan’s Minister of Economy, Trade, and Industry, resigned after it was revealed that he had given expensive fruits and condolence money to his constituents—acts considered a violation of Japan’s strict election laws. Though not a large-scale corruption case, the scandal was enough to end his ministerial career.
These examples illustrate how Japan’s culture of shame operates as an informal yet powerful system of accountability, compelling politicians to take responsibility beyond the legal framework.
The Historical Roots of Japan’s Shame Culture
Japan’s deep-rooted culture of shame did not develop overnight. It has evolved over centuries, shaped by a blend of philosophical influences, historical traditions, and societal expectations.
The foundations of this culture can be traced back to ancient times, particularly through the influence of Confucianism, which arrived in Japan around the 6th century. Confucian values emphasize social harmony, moral integrity, and the importance of reputation within a community. In Japan’s early agrarian society, individuals were deeply concerned with how they were perceived by their peers, fostering a collective sense of responsibility and shame.
The concept of shame became even more pronounced during the samurai era (12th–19th century), when Japan was governed by a rigid warrior code known as bushido. This ethical system demanded absolute loyalty, honor, and discipline from the samurai class. Failing to uphold these values often resulted in seppuku, a ritual suicide meant to atone for disgrace. One of the most famous instances of this occurred in the 47 Ronin incident (1701–1703), where a group of masterless samurai avenged their lord’s unjust death, only to commit seppuku afterward as a sign of obedience to the law.
During the Meiji Restoration (1868–1945), Japan modernized rapidly while maintaining its core values of discipline and accountability. The military and bureaucracy continued to uphold the principle of honor, which was further exemplified during World War II. Japanese soldiers were known to choose death over the dishonor of surrender, a mindset that was deeply ingrained in national consciousness.
Even in the post-war period (1945–present), Japan’s shame culture persisted, particularly in the corporate world. Business executives implicated in scandals frequently resign or issue public apologies, often bowing deeply in front of the media as a sign of remorse. In extreme cases, suicides linked to work-related dishonor have also been reported, reflecting how seriously Japan regards personal accountability.
Why Can’t Indonesia Adopt a Similar Approach?
Despite Indonesia’s strong religious foundation, which in theory should encourage ethical behavior, the country has struggled to cultivate a culture of shame in corruption cases. Several factors contribute to this discrepancy.
First, social and political structures in Indonesia often enable corruption rather than discourage it. Political dynasties and patronage networks allow convicted politicians to make a comeback, with some even running for office after serving prison time. Instead of being shunned by society, many corrupt officials are still welcomed back into influential circles, reducing the deterrent effect of public shame.
Second, Indonesia lacks the same historical foundation of honor-driven accountability. Unlike Japan’s bushido-influenced society, Indonesia’s past governance systems did not institutionalize extreme personal responsibility for ethical failings. While Indonesia has strong communal values, these do not necessarily translate into a societal expectation of resignation in cases of corruption.
Third, Indonesia’s legal and political landscape does not exert sufficient pressure on corrupt officials. While Japan’s strict election laws and public scrutiny make it difficult for disgraced politicians to return to power, Indonesia’s political system is more forgiving. The public often moves on quickly from corruption scandals, and political elites rarely face significant long-term consequences.
Lastly, the normalization of corruption in Indonesia has eroded the sense of national shame. In contrast to Japan, where even minor infractions can end a political career, Indonesia’s tolerance for corruption allows politicians to evade accountability. Many convicted officials still receive public sympathy, further weakening any cultural expectation of resignation or personal atonement.
The Challenge of Cultivating a Culture of Shame in Indonesia
Adopting Japan’s shame culture would require fundamental changes in Indonesia’s political, legal, and social systems. It would necessitate stricter laws, greater public scrutiny, and a shift in societal attitudes toward corruption. Until Indonesia establishes a system where corrupt officials are truly ostracized and held to higher moral standards, the country will continue to struggle in its fight against corruption.
While Japan’s shame culture is not without its flaws, it has undeniably fostered a strong sense of personal responsibility among its leaders. Whether Indonesia can develop a similar culture remains an open question, but as long as corruption remains socially and politically tolerated, genuine reform will be difficult to achieve.
