A generation exhausted by dating apps is embracing a corporate reinvention of traditional matchmaking, fueling an industry that promises a fast track to marriage.<\/p>\n
True love may be priceless. But in Japan, 20-somethings are flocking to marriage agencies that promise a fast track to the altar \u2014 and charge a premium for it.<\/p>\n
For hundreds of years, through the post-World War II era, Japanese marriages were brokered through \u201comiai,\u201d a practice in which matchmakers \u2014 usually relatives, family friends or bosses \u2014 linked singles in their orbit. But the custom fell out of fashion, giving way to organic dating and, eventually, a wave of casual-dating apps.<\/p>\n
Now, young adults are enrolling at record rates in marriage agencies, where counselors serve as professional matchmakers. Across Tokyo, advertisements line metro cars, urging commuters to \u201cleave life\u2019s fateful encounters to the pros.\u201d Another declares: \u201cBetter one omiai than 100 swipes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Experts say the shift is being driven by a backlash against frustrations familiar to modern daters globally. With social circles shrinking, young Japanese \u2014 tired of the ghosting, catfishing and noncommittal matches rampant on dating apps \u2014 are turning to hands-on human guidance for greater efficiency and assurance.<\/p>\n
Among the new recruits was Taizen Yasuda. A soft-spoken 28-year-old, he said he had run out of patience for algorithm-driven romance.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe process of endless matching, messaging and finally meeting on apps was exhausting,\u201d Mr. Yasuda said. Matchmaking services, he thought, \u201cwould be the quickest way to find someone with the exact same goal \u2014 marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n
The practice is resurging as Japan grapples with a shrinking population and fewer young families. Because childbearing in Japan remains overwhelmingly tied to marriage, encouraging more people to wed has become part of the country\u2019s broader push to boost its birthrate.<\/p>\n
One company has positioned itself at the center of the matchmaking trend: IBJ, a Tokyo-based giant with a nationwide network. Promising to take clients from first meeting to proposal in three months, the company has seen membership and profits soar. It now claims a hand in roughly one of every 25 marriages in Japan.<\/p>\n
Mr. Yasuda is part of a wave of young singles who have joined IBJ. On a recent Sunday, he sat across from his counselor in a quiet consultation room, clad in a stiffly pressed suit, with a sweep of wavy hair combed to the side. A little over a month after joining the matchmaking service, Mr. Yasuda had already narrowed his prospects to two women. He had just taken one on a weekend drive to see a field of yellow canola blooms.<\/p>\n
His counselor put him through a mock date, testing how he would handle awkward questions while peppering him with encouragement \u2014 a tactic she described as discovering and cultivating a client\u2019s \u201ccharm points.\u201d<\/p>\n
When she asked about his biggest stressors, Mr. Yasuda said delivering tough feedback to subordinates at work often weighed on him. Recently, though, it no longer bothered him. His counselor quickly interjected, cautioning that the response might sound passive or defeatist.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou might need to follow up on that,\u201d she said, before adding: \u201cAnyway, I think you\u2019re wonderful. I always think you\u2019re wonderful!\u201d<\/p>\n
Such intensive coaching is central to IBJ\u2019s pitch.<\/p>\n
Every member is assigned a consultant who micromanages the courtship process. The consultants advise on everything from grooming and messaging etiquette to date itineraries.<\/p>\n
When two members match, their consultants work in tandem behind the scenes, doing what they call \u201cCupid work\u201d \u2014 exchanging and filtering postdate feedback and helping orchestrate every milestone, down to an eventual proposal.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe are providing the kind of support only humans can offer to help people get married as quickly as possible,\u201d said Shigeru Ishizaka, IBJ\u2019s chief executive.<\/p>\n
In an increasingly digitized society, \u201cthere is a deep desire to have a person guiding you through the process of dating,\u201d said Junko Yamada, a lecturer at Tokai University in Tokyo who studies the psychology of romance. Echoing the reassurance of traditional omiai, she said having an expert curate matches offered psychological safety.<\/p>\n
Ms. Yamada said that today\u2019s youths seemed fixated on maximizing efficiency in every aspect of their lives, and that these agencies appealed to that mind-set by filtering out people who weren\u2019t serious about marriage.<\/p>\n
IBJ\u2019s network of affiliated marriage agencies has varying costs and eligibility rules. Members typically pay about $30 to $100 a month, an enrollment fee of $650 to $1,300 and an additional $1,300 \u201csuccess fee\u201d if a couple get engaged. It also charges a $1,300 fee if couples violate its rules against \u201cbanned activities,\u201d including premarital sex and cohabitation. IBJ said its counselors tracked the progression of their clients\u2019 relationships.<\/p>\n
Enrollment is generally limited to applicants with steady incomes. IBJ\u2019s largest directly operated agency accepts only women ages 20 to 39 and men ages 25 to 49.<\/p>\n
Critics argue that corporate services like IBJ, a company listed on the Tokyo Stock Exchange with annual revenue exceeding $130 million, strip the soul from traditional matchmaking, impose rigid timelines on anxious young adults and turn dating into a moneymaking endeavor.<\/p>\n
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Among the skeptics is Ikuko Kato, a veteran matchmaker who operates from her lace-curtained home just outside Tokyo, filled with hundreds of smiling pictures of couples she has matched. Dressed in pearls and a pink knit suit, Ms. Kato said she had matched more than 1,300 couples over 44 years and claimed that not a single pair had divorced.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re too focused on business,\u201d said Ms. Kato, who also charges clients a monthly fee as well as a fee if her matchmaking results in marriage. \u201cMy parents were neighborhood matchmakers. It\u2019s in my blood. Modern corporate agents cannot do what I do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Over a nearly three-hour interview, she recounted case after case in which she had paired struggling singles and intervened in their marriages afterward.<\/p>\n
One was a 4-foot-10 man who had struggled for three years at a marriage agency to find a date. Within three months, Ms. Kato said, he was married.<\/p>\n
Her work did not end there.<\/p>\n
Later, Ms. Kato called to check in on the newlyweds only to find out they were sleeping in separate bedrooms. \u201cWhen I found that out, I shouted: \u2018You fools! How are you going to have a baby?\u2019\u201d she recalled. \u201cI ordered them, \u2018Sleep in one bed tonight!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith young people today, you really have to teach them that far,\u201d Ms. Kato said.<\/p>\n
IBJ represents a distinctly corporate evolution of that historically personal tradition.<\/p>\n
Unlike neighborhood matchmakers, IBJ moves clients through a lucrative, end-to-end program. Beyond matchmaking, its group companies offer wedding planning, financial consulting and housing services, along with referrals to affiliated businesses like eyebrow-grooming salons.<\/p>\n
Membership has grown about 50 percent over the past five years, and IBJ reported a 44 percent jump in first-half revenue this year, to about $91 million.<\/p>\n
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Mr. Ishizaka, the chief executive, said he viewed IBJ\u2019s mission as more than just money. When he left banking and entered the matchmaking industry in 2000, he said, he hoped to reverse Japan\u2019s severe demographic decline.<\/p>\n
\u201cSince Japanese society rarely conceives children outside of wedlock, I realized a matching service specifically focused on marriage would have a vital future,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Recently, that mission got a dose of encouraging news. In the first six months of 2026, births in Japan rose 0.8 percent, the first increase in 11 years for that period, according to the Ministry of Health, Labor and Welfare. The modest uptick followed two straight years of increased marriages.<\/p>\n
Mr. Yasuda, the IBJ client, said he hoped to contribute to those numbers. Part of his desire to marry quickly, he said, comes from wanting to start early enough to raise three or four children.<\/p>\n
Mr. Ishizaka sees clients like Mr. Yasuda as evidence that a generation frequently portrayed as retreating from marriage may instead be looking for a more efficient route toward it.<\/p>\n
\u201cSurveys consistently show that over 80 percent of young people say they want to marry if they find the right partner,\u201d he said. \u201cI am certain that every married couple we create contributes directly to reversing the birthrate decline.\u201d<\/p>\n
River Akira Davis covers Japan for The Times, including its economy and businesses, and is based in Tokyo.<\/p>\n
Kiuko Notoya is a Tokyo-based reporter and researcher for The Times, covering news and features from Japan.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"