To Do Business in Japan, Make People Willing to Vouch for You

Published: 2026-09-23 6,928 words 22 min read

A company’s product has not changed. Neither has its team or the quality of its work. The only difference is that it no longer gets business through introductions from people it knows—and suddenly, business becomes much harder.

Takashi Hashimoto, who runs the Japanese company ブリッジ, described this experience on note.com. When he first went independent, most of his work came through referrals from former colleagues and acquaintances. It was only when he later tried to find clients proactively that he realized how much work others had been doing for him—work that had never counted as “sales.” They told prospective clients who he was, what he was good at, why he was worth meeting, and whether he could be trusted with the job.

The person making the introduction was not merely passing along contact details. Before the client ever met Hashimoto, someone else had already resolved some of their doubts.

The most common explanation is that “Japan is a relationship-based society.” But that is too broad to explain what, exactly, an introduction transfers. A more precise way to put it is this: an introduction is not a relationship. It is outsourced credit. Instead of deciding for themselves whether someone is trustworthy, clients outsource that judgment to a person both sides trust.

At least in businesses like these, where referrals matter and working relationships are meant to last, ability must pass through this process before it can turn into an order: someone has to be willing to tell the next person why they trust you.

Recommending Someone Means Staking Your Own Credibility on a Judgment

To the person asking, “Could you introduce me?” may sound like a request to forward a message. For the person making the introduction, it is not that simple.

Creator Tomoko Hayashi wrote on note.com about someone who wanted her to introduce one of their acquaintances to a prominent person she knew. She would not readily agree because she knew nothing about the person she was being asked to introduce. She could not be sure what they wanted, how they would communicate, or how they would respond if something went wrong.

She had also seen introductions lead to unpleasant interactions, and had even had people contact others in her name without permission. She therefore insists on sending the introductory email herself, explaining the situation clearly before connecting the two people.

From the outside, this caution can easily look exclusionary: why make such a fuss over simply meeting someone?

From her position, however, a bad introduction can damage two relationships at once. Her friend may not expect her to take responsibility for everything the other person does, but it may still change how they judge her ability to read people.

If credit is what has been outsourced, the person taking on that work also assumes the reputational risk. So if you want someone to recommend you, it is not enough for them to know that you are capable. They also need to know how you will treat people they care about. Are your intentions clear? Do you make measured promises? Will you speak up early when something cannot be done? Will you blame others if a deal falls through? Details like these shape whether someone is willing to provide that guarantee.

Outsourced credit is, of course, not a mechanism unique to Japan. It is better understood as a practice that tends to matter in long-term, repeated collaboration. A few personal essays are not enough to make claims about an entire country.

After the Meeting, Someone Still Has to Make Your Case Again

An introduction through a mutual acquaintance solves the problem that comes before the meeting. After the meeting, the outsourcing continues.

You give a compelling presentation, and the client’s 担当者—the person who will actually serve as your point of contact—likes what they hear. But once back at the office, they still have to explain to their manager why the company should buy, and tell other departments what will change. Liking your product does not mean they already have enough material to persuade everyone else.

In an article about ringi (稟議, りんぎ), Japan’s internal written-approval process, Keisuke Sato offers a very practical reminder: purchasing decisions are often made where the salesperson is not present. The person moving the proposal forward needs explanations they can take back and use, covering costs and returns, alternatives, security concerns, termination terms, and examples from similar clients.

Seiya Fujishima, founder of openpage, makes a related point based on his own sales meetings: understanding the needs a client voices and understanding their position within the organization are two different things. How their manager evaluates proposals, what pressures they face, and how this proposal competes with other projects all affect whether it moves forward.

Taken together, these accounts suggest that “Japanese clients are slow to decide” is not simply a judgment about temperament. Sometimes the person across the table is already convinced; they just have no way to pass the judgment outsourced to them on to the people who were not in the room.

Repeatedly asking for an update may be less useful than helping them put together a one-page explanation. Another product demo may not answer the question they are actually worried about: if something goes wrong, will the reasons I gave for choosing this vendor still hold up?

Of course, documents cannot create a budget that does not exist, nor can they make an unnecessary purchase necessary. It would be equally overstated to blame every failed deal on salespeople not giving the client enough support.

The Reassurance Insiders Enjoy Can Become a Barrier for Strangers

Understanding how this works does not mean defending it.

In an article discussing Toshio Yamagishi’s From a Society of Assurance to a Society of Trust, Toru Atobe asks readers to distinguish between two conditions. One is believing that someone is unlikely to betray you because both of you are embedded in stable relationships and constraints—what Yamagishi calls “assurance.” The other is being willing to evaluate a stranger and accept the uncertainty of working together even without that relational protection: “trust.”

This is an interpretive angle offered by the book review, not a cross-national conclusion independently verified here. But it points to the cost of outsourced credit: smooth collaboration among insiders does not mean that outsiders can readily get a chance.

The same outsourced credit that spares old partners from having to explain themselves can force newcomers to prove themselves over and over. Questions that an incumbent company no longer has to answer may confront a newcomer every time. If this continues for years, what businesses might miss cannot be dismissed with the single word “caution.”

So the lesson for doing business in Japan is not how to turn every relationship into a closer one. It is how to give strangers a basis on which to judge you.

An introduction can be the starting point, but it does not have to be the end. A record of delivery, clearly defined responsibilities, and verifiable case studies can gradually bring back in-house the work of proving your credibility that an introducer once performed. Giving a client the confidence to try you also means limiting the scope of the first engagement, agreeing on how it will be evaluated, and setting out when it can be stopped.

The next time you finish meeting a client, instead of asking only, “Did I convince them?” consider another question: which grounds for judging me can be moved out of someone else’s mouth and turned into things the client can verify for themselves?

Sources

This essay draws on the following publicly available full-text articles on note.com. The sources include personal experiences from business owners and creators, practical perspectives from sales-service providers, and a book review. They help illuminate specific mechanisms but cannot represent Japanese companies as a whole.