Japan May Get Stability — and Risk — at the Same Time
Polling now suggests that Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) is increasingly likely to secure a decisive victory in the upcoming lower house election, possibly even a single-party majority. From the outside, this appears to promise political stability in an increasingly volatile world. Yet the character of that stability — and the risks embedded within it — deserve closer scrutiny.
The LDP’s renewed strength does not primarily reflect a revival of deep party loyalty. Instead, it appears to be driven by younger and middle-aged voters with weak partisan attachments, many of whom have shifted their voting intention towards the LDP because of Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s personal appeal. Their choice is less an endorsement of the party’s record than a judgement about who should be entrusted with leadership.
This matters, because the appeal sustaining Takaichi’s popularity is not grounded in policy confidence alone — or, in some cases, at all.
Over the campaign, Takaichi has generated repeated controversy. Her remarks at street rallies welcoming yen depreciation — suggesting that Japan’s foreign exchange fund accounts benefit from a weaker currency — were met with disbelief and criticism from economists and investors both at home and abroad. The comments betrayed a casual attitude towards currency credibility that markets tend to punish, not applaud.
She was also forced to miss a crucial nationally televised party leaders’ debate on NHK after rheumatoid arthritis symptoms worsened during intensive campaign events such as handshaking with voters. More broadly, her past statements on a potential Taiwan contingency have already contributed to a sharp deterioration in Japan–China relations, raising concerns among diplomats and regional analysts about escalation risks.
Yet none of this has significantly eroded her support.
Instead, Takaichi is being sustained by a wave of emotional identification. Many voters say they want her to “do her best as Japan’s first female prime minister”. Others describe her as “unfairly treated” or “pitiful” under criticism. Some frame their support less as confidence in her judgement than as opposition to perceived external pressure, particularly from China. Sympathy, identity, and resentment have become powerful political currencies.
This is a notable shift. It suggests that for a growing segment of the electorate, elections are no longer primarily a referendum on competence, coherence, or consistency. They have become expressions of sentiment about who deserves to be supported, defended, or protected.
Such dynamics help explain why the LDP can advance even as unease about its governance record persists. Approval of “LDP politicians as a group” remains lukewarm, but that scepticism has been overridden by the personalised framing of leadership. Since the era of Junichiro Koizumi, Japanese politics has steadily moved in this direction. Formally parliamentary, it now operates psychologically closer to a presidential system.
From a global and market perspective, this creates an uncomfortable duality.
On the one hand, a strong LDP majority would provide continuity in governance, budgetary management, and alliance structures. In a world shaped by geopolitical fragmentation and economic uncertainty, Japan’s institutional predictability is valuable. Markets generally prefer stable cabinets to revolving-door politics.
On the other hand, Takaichi’s personal style introduces volatility. Her rhetorical impulses, especially on currency, security, and diplomacy, have repeatedly unsettled observers. Investors and foreign governments may find themselves reassured by the LDP’s dominance while simultaneously unsettled by the prime minister’s individual conduct.
This tension is not easily resolved. The centrist reform forces around the Constitutional Democratic Party and Komeito continue to appeal primarily to older voters who prioritise institutional repair and social fairness. Their message is cautious, restorative, and stability-oriented. But it lacks traction among working-age voters seeking visible decisiveness rather than procedural reassurance.
Nor have the alternative challengers filled the gap. The Democratic Party for the People mobilised politically disengaged voters with concrete promises such as higher take-home pay, but its support remains shallow and mobile. Sanseito channels frustration and anti-elite sentiment, but more as an outlet for stagnation anxiety than as a governing project.
As a result, many voters have defaulted to a simpler question: who, imperfect as they may be, appears willing to take responsibility now?
Prime Minister Takaichi’s snap election can thus be seen as a bid to secure a personal mandate before sentiment shifts again. If she succeeds, Japan may enter a period of surface-level stability underpinned by deeper uncertainties.
The paradox is this: Japan may achieve political continuity precisely at the moment when its leadership style becomes more unpredictable. For global partners and markets alike, the outcome will be neither an unambiguous relief nor an outright alarm — but something far more complicated.