As corporate America and Europe drag workers back to five days in the office and squeeze for ever more efficiency, Japan is quietly paying thousands of older employees to show up, sit down, and do almost nothing at all.
Meet the madogiwazoku cohort—older, underperforming, or redundant employees who are assigned desks near the window with little to no work to do.
These “window workers” are mostly Gen X and boomer men in their late fifties and sixties, who were hired on the promise of lifetime employment shushin koyo and a seniority‑based pay system.
Instead of leading teams or closing deals, they spend their days answering the occasional email, shuffling a few documents, and sorting paperwork—kept on comfortable salaries but carefully steered away from any real responsibility.
And while the phenomenon isn’t anything new, it’s gaining interest online. As Western CEOs double down on productivity, five-day in-office mandates, and AI headcount cuts, more and more young people are looking to Japan for a calm alternative—even vacationing there for a taste of a slower, more intentional way of life that feels worlds away from the corporate grind.
Moved instead of sacked: Japan’s seniors are still clocking in long after retirement
“[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.”
A key distinction, he suggests, is that these workers aren’t office troublemakers—they’re often loyal, nonconfrontational workers who’ve 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.”
Protecting older workers from redundancy—even when their roles shrink—has had a measurable ripple effect on who’s still turning up to work in Japan. The country now has one of the highest rates of senior employment in the developed world, with more than a quarter of people ages 65 and over still working in 2022, compared with less than one in five in the U.S., and barely one in 10 in the U.K.
Surveys show roughly 80% of Japanese workers want to continue working after retirement, with around 70% preferring to stay with their current employer rather than start over somewhere new.
To make that possible, the government pushed through a revised Law Concerning Stabilization of Employment of Older Persons and a raft of subsidies that nudge companies to secure employment opportunities for workers until the age of 70. The World Economic Forum noted that already some companies are introducing systems that allow employees to extend their retirement age, enabling them to work longer without sacrificing benefits.
Meanwhile, Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare offers subsidies to employers who support such initiatives.
Survey suggests that about half of Japanese companies have an ‘old guy who does nothing’
One small study hints at just how widespread this quiet reassignment from core work to the window seat has become.
In a survey of 300 workers ages 20 to 39 at large Japanese companies, consulting firm Shikigaku found that 49.2% said their employer has an “old guy who doesn’t work.”
When younger staff were asked what their madogiwazoku coworkers actually do all day, the top answers were taking too many smoking and snack breaks, idle chatting, browsing the internet, and staring off into space.
Even in Japan, where respect for elders is baked into social etiquette, Gen Z and millennial workers are losing patience.
Nine in 10 respondents said their company’s “old guy who doesn’t work” has a negative impact on the workplace, blaming them for dragging down morale (59.7%), increasing everyone else’s workload (49%), and weighing on labor costs (35.3%).
Still, the practice 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’s a quiet reassurance to everyone else in the building that a bad quarter or a skills gap won’t cost you your livelihood.
