49% of Japanese Firms Keep an 'Old Guy Who Does Nothing' on Payroll

Nearly half of large Japanese companies employ an "old guy who doesn't work," according to a survey by consulting firm Shikigaku — and in most cases, nobody plans to fire him.

Shikigaku polled 300 workers aged 20 to 39 at large Japanese companies and found that 49.2% said their employer has an "old guy who doesn't work." The younger staff were blunt about what those colleagues do all day: the top answers were taking too many smoking and snack breaks, idle chatting, browsing the internet, and staring off into space.

They are known as the madogiwazoku — literally the "window tribe": older, underperforming, or redundant employees assigned desks near the window with little to no actual work. Most are Gen X and baby boomer men in their late 50s and 60s, hired decades ago under the promise of lifetime employment (shushin koyo) and seniority-based pay. Instead of leading teams or closing deals, they answer the occasional email, shuffle a few documents, and sort paperwork — kept on comfortable salaries but steered away from any real responsibility.

The phenomenon is decades old, but it is drawing fresh attention online just as corporate America and Europe drag workers back to five days in the office and squeeze for ever more efficiency, with AI-driven headcount cuts increasingly on the agenda. More young people are looking to Japan as a calm alternative — some even vacationing there for a taste of a slower, more intentional way of life.

"[While] Trump says, 'You're fired,' in Japan we don't say, 'You're fired,'" a 74-year-old Japanese influencer who goes by @papafromjapan explained on TikTok. "If someone is not doing a good job, we put him near the window, let them do paperwork. Those people we call madogiwazoku."

The distinction matters, he suggests: these workers aren't office troublemakers. They are often loyal, non-confrontational employees who have simply been overtaken by changing technology or strategy. Rather than push them out, employers quietly move them aside.

"They're not aggressive people, so we just let them work, and they don't complain, and they're happy with it, and they work for the company for a long time," he said.

A measurable effect on employment

Protecting older workers from redundancy — even when their roles shrink — has had a measurable ripple effect on Japan's labor market. More than a quarter of people aged 65 and over were still working in 2022, one of the highest rates of senior employment in the developed world. In the U.S., the figure was less than one in five; in the U.K., barely one in 10.

Surveys cited by the World Economic Forum show roughly 80% of Japanese workers want to continue working after retirement, and around 70% prefer to stay with their current employer rather than start over somewhere new.

The government has leaned into this. A revised Law Concerning Stabilization of Employment of Older Persons, along with a raft of subsidies, nudges companies to secure employment opportunities for workers until the age of 70. The World Economic Forum noted that some companies already run systems allowing employees to extend their retirement age and work longer without sacrificing benefits. Japan's Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare offers subsidies to employers who support such initiatives.

The costs, and the quiet upside

Even in Japan, where respect for elders is baked into social etiquette, Gen Z and millennial workers are losing patience. Nine in 10 respondents in the Shikigaku survey said their company's "old guy who doesn't work" has a negative impact on the workplace. They blame these colleagues for dragging down morale (59.7%), increasing everyone else's workload (49%), and weighing on labor costs (35.3%).

The practice still has an upside. By absorbing older, less adaptable employees instead of sacking them, companies maintain psychological safety, reduce workers' fear of being abruptly displaced, and preserve decades of experience that can be tapped for mentoring and training.

In an era when workers are being cut in the name of AI efficiency, Japan's window tribe might look unproductive — but it signals to everyone else in the building that a bad quarter or a skills gap won't cost them their livelihood.