Three scenes. All Japan.

A colleague who, even in the height of summer, takes only three days of vacation – though entitled to more.

A meeting on a public holiday, promptly at nine. No fuss. No drama.

A project proposal that sails through the meeting as if everything had already been said.

To Western eyes, this feels alien. Where’s the debate? The brainstorming? The ping-pong of ideas and counter-ideas? But if you only look at what’s visible, you miss what’s really happening in Japan. There, work often begins long before it officially starts.

The key is Nemawashi (根回し). Literally: “preparing the roots.” A term from horticulture – before transplanting a tree, you loosen the soil. Gently. Patiently. And with care.

Applied to the workplace, it means decisions are prepared before they are officially made. Informally, in the background. People speak to stakeholders in advance, hold one-on-one conversations. They solicit opinions. Listen for undertones. The aim: consensus. By the time a proposal reaches the meeting, there’s no resistance – because everything has already been settled.

Why does this matter? Because it reveals a great deal about Japanese ideas of responsibility, loyalty, and collaboration. And because we often stumble when we overlook these rules. As a sinologist, I’m at home in East Asia – its language, context, culture. And yet Japan keeps surprising me. Not through what’s obvious, but through what goes unsaid.

Why do so many people take only short vacations?

Because absence isn’t seen as a right but as a burden on others—and because loyalty isn’t demanded; it’s a quiet, shared understanding.

Why do people work on weekends – voluntarily?

Because responsibility is shared. Because no one leaves others in the lurch. Because “team” in Japan is meant literally.

Why do meetings run so smoothly – sometimes suspiciously so?

Because the real discussion has already taken place, and public contradiction can mean loss of face – not just for oneself, but for everyone in the room.

Two concepts help explain this: giri, a felt obligation toward others, not toward “the system”; and wa – the harmony that should not be disturbed.

What does this mean for us? Working with Japanese partners takes more than solid project management.

It takes a feel for the invisible:

Spontaneous changes? In a Western reading, a sign of agility – in Japan, often a source of irritation.

Feedback talks? Possible, yes, but with tact and time. Criticism isn’t delivered head-on; it’s embedded.

A simple “thank you”? If it’s sincere, it carries weight. In a culture where praise is used sparingly, it matters.

Learning to read quietly Nemawashi has taught me to “hear” anew.

A project doesn’t start with a kick-off, but with coffee for two.

A “maybe” can be a yes – if said at the right moment. And sometimes the most important conversation is the one not perceived as such.

My takeaway: When you work with Japan, remember: decisions emerge together. Trust grows in advance. And real connection often begins with the conversation before the conversation.

What are your experiences with these quiet rules? Have you ever listened more closely, between the words, before the meeting, beyond the agenda? I’d be delighted to hear your perspective.