Chapter 1: Don’t Be Fooled by the Warm Glow of a Handout
This morning, my wife said, “Isn’t Japan a kind country, giving us 20,000 yen just like that?”
Five minutes later, she muttered, “Did you see the last electric bill? We’re running a deficit!”
Such is the ever-widening gap between household realities and national policy.
Prime Minister Ishiba’s proposal: a blanket 20,000 yen for all citizens, with an extra 20,000 yen per child.
Critics say it’s an obvious vote-buying stunt ahead of the upper house election.
At first glance, it looks like targeted support for low-income households and families. But listen to the voices on the street, and the mood is less gratitude, more skepticism.
A 19-year-old student says, “Getting 20,000 yen won’t change anything. They should lower the consumption tax.” A mother in her 30s says, “We’re paying for daycare and taxes—it feels like we’re always being drained.”
And there’s a more fundamental issue.
Injecting cash into the economy boosts demand—and prices. What feels like a gain at the register becomes a loss at the checkout weeks later.
Wasn’t this handout supposed to counter inflation?
It’s a cruel irony. A fire that was supposed to be doused gets worse—because the water turned out to be gasoline.
This, I believe, reflects the deep roots of distrust and anxiety in our society.
Chapter 2: The Good Intentions of Cash—and the Structural Disease Beneath
Ishiba insists this is no giveaway, but targeted support for those in need.
Here’s the plan:
- 20,000 yen to every citizen
- Additional 20,000 yen per child
- Another 20,000 yen for non-taxed adults
Total estimated budget: about 3.5 trillion yen. Funded by revenue surplus, no new debt.
But two major problems lie beneath:
First, it prioritizes short-term impact over long-term security.
Second, it preserves the discretionary redistribution structure dominated by the Ministry of Finance.
Japan’s fiscal machinery works like this:
- Tax money is centralized
- Ministries submit budget requests under the guise of policy
- The Finance Ministry “screens” these requests
- Ruling politicians secure votes by directing funds to their regions
This creates “distributional privileges.” As long as politicians and bureaucrats control the flow, they reap the rewards.
Cash handouts, no matter how well-meaning, reinforce this very system. The real issue isn’t compassion—it’s the expansion of political influence.
Chapter 3: The Alternative They Don’t Want to Talk About—Tax Cuts
There is a better, quieter option: tax cuts.
Take food tax elimination—cutting the consumption tax on food to zero. It offers immediate relief, lasting benefits, and low inflation risk.
The numbers:
- Estimated annual revenue loss: 4–5 trillion yen
- FY2024 revenue surplus: 3 trillion yen
- Net gap: only 1–2 trillion yen, easily offset by economic gains
Tax cuts increase disposable income → boost consumption → grow corporate profits → raise income and corporate tax revenues.
So why is the government silent?
Because tax cuts eliminate discretion.
- No say in “who gets what”
- No favors to distribute
- No room for bureaucratic or political gain
What benefits the public offers no “returns” for those in power. That’s why tax cuts are quietly buried.
Chapter 4: How Tax Cuts Expose the Politician-Bureaucrat Money Loop
Let me put it straight.
Cash handouts are a means for politicians to control influence—deciding who gets how much, and when.
Repeat this system enough, and two things happen:
- Those who distribute gain power
- Those who receive become dependent
This is pork-barrel politics, institutionalized.
It gets worse.
For politicians, the greatest prize is simply staying in office. With that comes salary, prestige, and unshakeable authority.
Using tax money to funnel support to their districts becomes an electoral strategy: “I brought this subsidy. I delivered that aid.”
And when politics becomes about survival, not service:
- Constitutional reform, national defense, energy policy—get shelved
- SDGs, LGBT, renewable energy, vaccines, immigration—anything trending internationally gets quick, superficial approval
“Politics for the nation” gives way to “politics for the politician.”
And what about the bureaucrats?
Many enter elite ministries like Finance after years of top-level education. But their actual pay is modest, and their real reward lies in promotion and lucrative post-retirement jobs.
To rise in the Finance Ministry, you must increase tax revenue. To secure post-retirement influence, you must control budgets and direct funds to future employers.
This means maintaining their discretion to allocate funds—and cozying up to compliant politicians.
The result? A perpetual loop of influence, profit, and public sacrifice.
Chapter 5: Tax Cuts Are the Antidote to Political Corruption
So what’s the remedy?
Tax cuts.
- The government doesn’t overcharge
- Politicians can’t take credit for handouts
- Bureaucrats can’t steer funds
- No middlemen, no leakage, no favoritism
- Broad, fair, and cost-efficient
In short, tax cuts shrink the domain of political manipulation. They offer a systemic fix, not a temporary patch.
That’s why I say:
“Tax cuts are not just economic policy—they’re the first step in dismantling political corruption.”
And we must raise our voices:
Not ‘Thank you for 20,000 yen,’ but ‘Don’t overcharge us to begin with.’
Every time politicians act like benefactors, it’s worth asking—whose money was it in the first place?
Beneath Japan’s 20,000 yen giveaway lies a rotten machine. Tax cuts, not handouts, are the real reform.
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