KEY TAKEAWAYS

• What are the visa changes in Japan?

• What are the changes to the price of a visa to live in Japan?

• Why are the visa requirements changing to live in Japan?

• When to the visa changes start in Japan?

• How much does a visa cost to live in Japan?

JAPAN INCREASE THE PRICE FOR FOREIGNERS TO LIVE IN JAPAN

Daniel TJ International Correspondent Tokyo, Japan

You know, every time Japan changes something related to visas or residency, it feels like the whole foreign community gives this huge collective sigh — that “Oh no… what now?” kind of sound.

THE PRICE FOR FOREIGNERS TO LIVE IN JAPAN ARE GOING TO SKYROCKET!

And honestly, when I first read that the government’s planning to raise the visa extension and status-change fee from ¥6,000 to something like ¥30,000–¥40,000… I actually stopped mid-sip of my coffee and just stared at the screen. Like… wait, that’s not a typo?

Because ¥6,000 has always been annoying, sure, but manageable. Mildly painful, like stubbing your toe on a table that you swear hasn’t moved in years.

But a five- to six-fold jump? And then — get this — the permanent residency application fee going from ¥10,000 to over ¥100,000.

Yeah. More than ten times.

My first reaction was something between a laugh and that sound you make when you pinch the bridge of your nose and wonder why life insists on being like this.

And maybe this hits me harder than some people because I remember exactly where I was the first time I applied for an extension.

I was sitting in the Shinagawa immigration office — you know the one, the building where time goes to evaporate and your number never gets called until you’ve emotionally given up — and I’d been practicing the Japanese phrase for “I changed jobs recently, here are my documents” like it was a tongue twister.

I was sweating, even though it was winter, and I kept pulling out the little envelope with the ¥6,000 revenue stamp just to reassure myself I didn’t mess it up.

It’s kind of wild to think that the fee that once felt like the “small” part of the whole ordeal might one day be the part that makes people hesitate.

And that’s what I keep going back to: the hesitation.

Because the money itself… I mean, yeah, ¥30,000–¥40,000 is a chunk of cash, especially if you’re a student or doing contract work or switching jobs or trying to get your life sorted.

And ¥100,000 for a permanent residency application — that’s not lunch money. That’s “I need to think about this very, very carefully” money. That’s “do I want to stay here long-term badly enough to drop this in one go?” money.

But what worries me more is the message it sends — or at least how it feels to those of us living here, paying rent, paying taxes, buying overpriced convenience-store coffee, doing our best to fit in.

Because for so many of us, these visas aren’t just paperwork. They’re tied to our jobs, our families, our relationships, our sense of stability.

I know people who plan their whole lives around the timing of their visa renewal — vacations, job changes, even marriage proposals sometimes get pushed around because “my visa’s up in July and I can’t take any risks until it comes through.”

Japan can be a wonderful place to live — peaceful, quirky, safe, full of unexpected joy — but even after years here, this whole residency process sits at the back of your mind like an alarm clock you didn’t set but somehow keeps going off anyway.

And raising the fee five- or sixfold? It just feels like turning up the volume on that alarm.

Maybe I’m being dramatic… I don’t know. Maybe this is one of those changes that won’t matter to anyone statistically, but if you actually talk to people — the teachers, the researchers, the restaurant staff, the engineers, the spouses of Japanese nationals, the students — you start hearing the same stories.

“I’m already struggling.” “I just changed jobs.” “I’m supporting a family.” “I want to stay, but this makes it harder.”

And look, I get it: inflation, administrative costs, government budgets — sure. Everything’s getting more expensive.

But the timing of it all just feels strange. Japan keeps talking about needing more international workers, needing more global talent, needing people who’ll contribute and become part of society.

And then — boom — the visa cost skyrockets.

It’s like being invited to someone’s house and then being told the cover charge has suddenly gone up by 500%.

And honestly, I can’t help thinking about the students. The ones who come here with barely enough money but with all the hope in the world.

They take part-time convenience store jobs, eat cup noodles way too often, and somehow manage to send money home to help their families. Imagine telling them,

“Okay, your visa extension is now ¥30,000–¥40,000.”

I can already hear the groans echoing across every dorm in Tokyo and Osaka.

Permanent residency is the one that really got me, though. Over ¥100,000 just to apply.

And that doesn’t include the time, documents, certificates, tax proof, employment proof, personal statements, and — let’s be real — the emotional exhaustion of wondering if you’ll get approved.

Permanent residency used to feel like the “finish line,” or at least a huge milestone. Now it’s starting to feel like a very expensive lottery ticket.

I’ve known people who’ve spent years working toward PR — volunteering, studying Japanese, paying taxes, building a life here — only to say,

“I don’t know if I can afford the fee now.”

And that’s heartbreaking. Because for many of us, Japan is home, even if we weren’t born here. Our memories, our friends, our routines, our favorite ramen shop — they’re all here.

But home shouldn’t come with a price tag that makes you hesitate.

I’m not angry, exactly. More… disappointed? Confused? A little tired? It’s like when a friend does something that hurts you, even if they didn’t mean to.

You want to give them the benefit of the doubt, but you also want to sit them down and go, “Hey… did you think about how this feels?”

And maybe things will change. Maybe the pushback will be strong enough that the government reconsiders, or softens it, or phases it in slowly.

Japan does listen sometimes — not always, but sometimes.

But until then, I think we’re all just bracing a little, hoping that this doesn’t make life harder for the people who truly want to be here, who contribute every day in ways that often go unnoticed.

I guess that’s the real heart of it — people want to feel welcomed, not priced out.

They want to feel like they belong, like their presence matters, like the system sees them as more than paperwork and fees. And maybe that sounds idealistic, but honestly… it’s what keeps people rooted.

It’s what convinces them to stay long-term, build families, start businesses, put down real roots.

Anyway — sorry, I’m rambling now. Maybe it’s the caffeine. Or maybe it’s that this really does matter to me, and to a lot of people I care about.

But yeah… ¥6,000 to ¥30,000–¥40,000. ¥10,000 to over ¥100,000. It’s a lot. And it’s not just about the money — it’s about what it means for everyone who calls Japan home, or hopes to one day.

Let’s just hope someone, somewhere in a quiet office in Kasumigaseki, is thinking about that too.

So there you go. Japan has many issues with its sinking economy and to fix it's financial problems this is what Japan comes up with as a solution.

If this actually does happen in Japan, it will backfire. Why? Because first Japan indicates it wants more foreign workers.

Then says, when you apply for a visa or renew a visa to stay in Japan, it will cost you an arm and a leg. Makes not logical sense.

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