By John Q. Hosedrinker 
Effective February 1, the Japanese government has discontinued the practice of notifying lawyers representing foreign nationals two months prior to their deportation, a system established in 2010. The Immigration Services Agency cited instances of foreigners going missing after receiving these notices, which it claimed disrupted operations and hindered deportation proceedings. While the agency asserts that foreign nationals will still be informed of their deportation deferral for one month to allow for legal action, the bar association has protested the change, arguing it impedes foreigners’ right to a trial and that the shortened grace period is insufficient for seeking judicial relief. This decision aligns with the government’s broader policy to strengthen immigration controls and increase deportation numbers.
Read the original article here
Japan’s recent decision to do away with advance deportation notices for lawyers representing foreigners marks a significant shift in how the nation handles immigration enforcement, and it’s a move that raises more than a few eyebrows, especially given the country’s reliance on foreign labor. For a nation where manufacturing, construction, agriculture, and caregiving industries are deeply intertwined with the contributions of non-Japanese workers, this policy change seems particularly perplexing. It begs the question of the overall strategy behind such decisions, especially when considering the numbers.
Looking at the deportation figures over the last decade provides some context, though it’s important to note these are not directly from the article but offer a broader picture. We see a projected increase to over 20,000 deportations in 2025, a substantial jump from previous years. 2024 saw around 18,900, with a noticeable surge in Vietnamese nationals being deported. This trend continued from 2023, which had approximately 13,000. The lowest point in the decade was 2022, with around 10,300, largely attributed to pandemic-related travel restrictions. Prior to that, numbers hovered between 11,000 and 17,700 annually. This increasing trend, especially when juxtaposed with the number of people overstaying their visas, which has remained between 60,000 and 80,000 for several years, suggests a tightening grip on immigration enforcement.
The policy of cancelling advance notification to lawyers about deportations is particularly concerning when you consider the potential for miscommunication or oversight. The fact that, in recent years, at least seven individuals have temporarily gone missing after such notifications were sent, even if this is out of thousands and represents a very small percentage, highlights a vulnerability. This small percentage, when dealing with human lives and the complex legal processes involved in deportation, can still lead to devastating outcomes. It’s hard to ignore the feeling that this move could be perceived as arbitrary and targeted, especially when the industries most reliant on foreign workers are also the ones where labor shortages are most acute. A “rude awakening” for Japan, as some might put it, could involve alienating the very workforce it desperately needs, leading to severe economic repercussions.
The sentiment that this policy change reflects a broader anti-immigrant wave globally is hard to dismiss. It’s a narrative that often distracts from the root causes of societal issues, offering an easy scapegoat instead of addressing complex challenges like the cost of living, housing, or healthcare. While some nations may be grappling with their own internal struggles, the impact of such policies on the global labor market and the interconnectedness of economies cannot be overstated. The fear of scaring away essential foreign labor seems a particularly short-sighted approach for a country facing demographic challenges.
There’s also a concerning anecdotal element that suggests a deeply ingrained racism within Japanese society, particularly towards certain nationalities, including Vietnamese individuals. Stories of being treated as “inferior dogs” and rampant racism paint a stark picture. This perceived targeted approach to deportation, coupled with the cancellation of advance notices to lawyers, could be interpreted as a system that punishes first and asks questions later, treating immigrants, by default, as potential criminals. The notion that immigrants are seen as criminals in their eyes, leading to policies that sweepingly restrict rights for everyone, is a troubling one.
The implication that this policy might be an attempt to systematize the exploitation of foreign labor for the benefit of locals is another unsettling perspective. It’s a cynical view, perhaps, but one that gains traction when considering the increasing deportation numbers and the apparent lack of consideration for the well-being of those being deported. The idea that conservative ideals, which often underpin such policies, can lead to a callous disregard for the consequences, even when faced with undeniable negative impacts, is a grim reality.
Furthermore, Japan’s demographic situation – an aging population and low birth rates – makes its stance on foreign labor even more precarious. With a powerful neighbor like China experiencing its own demographic challenges but with a significantly larger population and younger average age, Japan’s isolationist tendencies and restrictive immigration policies could prove to be a strategic disadvantage. The weakening yen and increasing international isolation, with other nations forging trade and visa-free travel agreements, only add to the sense of impending economic vulnerability.
The argument that nations must address underlying societal problems, such as the cost of living crisis, before expecting anti-immigrant sentiments to subside, holds significant weight. When people feel economically insecure, it’s often easier to blame “outsiders” for their woes. This creates a fertile ground for politicians to exploit, offering simplistic solutions that deflect from the complex issues at hand. The cancellation of advance deportation notices could be seen as another manifestation of this tendency – a decisive action that appears strong but fails to address the fundamental need for labor and a stable workforce.
It’s important to acknowledge that experiences within Japan can vary. Some residents describe a society that, while perhaps not perfect, doesn’t subject people of different races to the kind of hate crimes or arbitrary detention seen in other countries. They highlight that, in comparison to some European nations struggling with homelessness and social unrest stemming from immigration policies, Japan’s approach might be seen differently. The idea of “real racism” being when a country pretends to welcome people but then denies them jobs and housing, leaving them to beg on the streets, is a strong counterpoint to the claims of rampant xenophobia in Japan.
However, the core concern remains the potential for the new policy to create a more opaque and less humane deportation process. The previous system, which allowed two months for individuals to wrap up affairs, cancel services, and inform relevant offices, served a practical purpose. Removing this advance notice to lawyers, in particular, could lead to individuals being caught off guard, facing immense difficulties in settling their affairs, and potentially experiencing undue hardship. While the goal might be to expedite deportations, the unintended consequences for the individuals involved, and the broader message it sends to potential foreign workers, are significant. The balance between enforcing immigration laws and upholding human dignity is a delicate one, and it appears that this recent policy change has tipped the scales in a concerning direction for those advocating for a more compassionate and transparent approach.