Why Japan "Shuts Down" for the New Year: The Psychology of Shiwasu and Time

Why Japanese people become so sensitive to December, the New Year, and “time” itself

Many foreigners who have worked in Japan find themselves asking the same questions when December arrives:

• Why does the atmosphere in Japan suddenly change in December?

• Why does finishing things “within the year” matter so much?

• Why do Japanese people seem cautious about jumping back into work right after the New Year?

• And why do Japan’s trains and buses run with such astonishing punctuality?

These patterns can’t be explained by “diligence” or “rule-following” alone. At the root is a particular Japanese way of relating to time itself.

This article is not written to praise Japanese culture, nor to judge Japanese people. It is a cultural guide written by an author raised in both Japan and abroad—acting as a cultural interpreter—to help non-Japanese readers understand the underlying logic behind Japanese behavior.

1. What the word Shiwasu reveals about Japan’s sense of time

In Japan, December is sometimes called Shiwasu (師走). There are several theories about the origin of the term.

The best-known explanation is that even shi—a “master,” often understood as a Buddhist monk—would be so busy at year’s end that he would be running around.

As the year closes, annual events and religious services cluster together, and people begin to move with a sense of wrapping things up. The word is said to capture that end-of-year rush.

Other theories suggest it comes from toshihateru (“the year comes to an end”) or that it refers to “the end of the four seasons.”

But what these explanations share is the same core idea:

Shiwasu has long been understood not as “just December,” but as a special period devoted to closing out the year.

In other words, the term is more than a seasonal label. For many Japanese people, December is consciously felt as a time to “finish the year.”

The city feels less settled, people move faster, and phrases like “within the year” and “before the year ends” naturally become more common. This isn’t a coincidence.

In Japan, time has often been treated not merely as a schedule, but as something that carries boundaries and meaning.

2. Japan’s original sense of time was tied to nature

Until Meiji 5 (1872), Japan lived by a lunisolar calendar—the traditional calendar often called the “old calendar.”

Up through the Edo period, people oriented their year around natural markers such as:

• the winter solstice

• seasonal divisions (sekki)

• the waxing and waning of the moon

Time wasn’t a fixed set of numbers. It shifted, it breathed, and it changed its character from year to year.

3. The calendar reform of 1872: a forced modernization of time

After the Meiji Restoration, the government made a decision that fundamentally rewired Japan’s calendar.

It declared that December 3, 1872 (Meiji 5) would become January 1, 1873 (Meiji 6)—a sweeping calendar reform.

With that single move, Japan abolished the lunisolar calendar and switched abruptly to the solar calendar used by Western nations.

Behind this was more than “civilization and enlightenment.” There was strong pressure from Western powers.

4. The real problem the reform created

The problem wasn’t simply that the calendar “shifted.”

From a calendrical perspective, the move from the old calendar to the solar calendar temporarily pushed seasonal feeling forward. But the rhythms of daily life—annual customs, rituals, and psychological “endpoints”—had been built over generations.

People were not given time to adapt.

What emerged was a rupture: a disconnect between the official calendar and lived, embodied time.

5. Why “time” can become a psychological burden in Japan

Japanese people can appear strict about time, but that strictness isn’t just about liking rules.

In Japan, situations like:

• being late

• not finishing before year-end

• not being fully prepared

often create not only practical problems, but a distinct sense of psychological discomfort.

This, too, can be seen as part of Japan’s historical experience of having to reconcile “calendar time” and “felt time” within the individual.

6. “A year’s plan begins on New Year’s Day”—why Japan doesn’t move during the New Year

Japan has an old saying:

A year’s plan begins on New Year’s Day.

The idea is that setting one’s inner direction at the start of the year influences the flow of the entire year.

For this reason, the New Year in Japan has traditionally been seen not as a time to produce immediate results, but as a time to steady the year’s course.

This mindset shows up clearly in business as well.

In translation and interpreting, for example, requests sometimes arrive near the end of the year from clients living overseas, such as:

• “Can you arrange an interpreter during the New Year holidays?”

• “Can you deliver this by January 2?”

For many of these clients, the year-end period may include vacation, but it isn’t a reason to stop work entirely.

From the Japanese perspective, however, the New Year is not simply another work window. It is a period meant to set the year in order before moving forward.

That is why, for Japanese interpreters and translators, taking on work during the New Year isn’t just a question of being “busy.” It can feel like disrupting the beginning of the year itself for the sake of work.

Without understanding that premise, it can be hard to grasp:

• why the request is declined

• why the price suddenly becomes extremely high

• why you’re told, “We can do it after the New Year”

But this isn’t laziness or inefficiency. It’s simply that the underlying assumptions about time are fundamentally different.

7. Why younger generations are rediscovering the old calendar and natural time

In recent years, some younger Japanese have begun paying renewed attention to natural calendars:

• the old lunisolar calendar

• the winter solstice

• Risshun (the beginning of spring)

• the new moon and full moon

Rather than a passing trend, this can be seen as an unconscious attempt to repair the gap between the modern calendar and bodily time.

How this may shape Japan’s sense of time in the years ahead is an intriguing point to watch.

8. Why Japan’s trains and buses are so precisely on time

Anyone who has visited Japan has likely noticed how strikingly punctual public transportation can be.

But this is not simply “high-quality service.”

In Japan, there is a shared assumption that small shifts in time easily become psychological burdens.

So rather than placing that burden on individuals, Japanese society has often chosen to minimize time slippage at the infrastructure level.

This may reflect an effort to imagine the other person’s position and reduce the anxiety and stress that time disruptions can cause—by having society, as much as possible, absorb that cost.

9. Otagaisama: sharing the weight of time

At a deeper level, one idea that supports Japan’s sense of time is otagaisama.

Otagaisama is difficult to translate directly, but its meaning is not vague.

It carries the premise that:

Even if I yield now, in another situation the other person will yield in turn.

Japanese people do not always try to settle gains and losses immediately, moment by moment:

• not now

• not today

• please wait

But in exchange, there is an expectation of balance over time:I will respond in another moment.

This is not sentimental kindness. It is a practical design—one that prevents the burden of time from concentrating in a single place or on a single person.

10. Japan runs on a different sense of time

In Japan, time is not treated only as a schedule. It is often bound up with closure, meaning, and a feeling of internal “rightness.”

That is why patterns emerge such as:

• rushing at year’s end

• pausing at the start of the year

• absorbing time slippage through social systems

Closing: understanding reduces friction

Japan is not a “difficult” country.

It simply operates on a different set of assumptions—about time, and about many other things as well.

Once you understand those assumptions, work and relationships in Japan can become surprisingly smooth.

How do these ideas resonate with your own experiences?

We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

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About the Author

Amica Suzuki is a cultural interpreter raised between Japan and abroad, and the founder of Acima Corporation, a Japan-based translation and interpreting company dedicated to bridging Japanese and global business cultures.