For many foreigners studying Japanese, nothing induces more anxiety than the language’s complex system of politeness levels. Known broadly as “keigo” (敬語), these respectful expressions are not just about being polite—they are integral to how social hierarchy and interpersonal distance are expressed in Japan. Combined with gendered language patterns and an overwhelming number of first-person pronouns, keigo makes Japanese a language of remarkable social nuance.
Keigo is generally divided into three categories: teineigo (丁寧語) or polite language, using forms like “desu” and “masu”; sonkeigo (尊敬語), which elevates the listener or subject; and kenjōgo (謙譲語), which humbles the speaker in relation to others. Unlike English, where “please” or “sir” may suffice, in Japanese, entire verbs and sentence structures change depending on the situation. For example, the verb “to go” becomes “ikimasu” in polite form, “irasshaimasu” in respectful form, and “mairimasu” in humble form. Each form has its place depending on whether you’re speaking to a customer, a boss, a friend, or a subordinate. Mistakes may not provoke open criticism, but they can lead to subtle social discomfort.
In public or official settings—such as city offices, service counters, or even in stores—phrases like “osoreirimasu ga…” (“I humbly apologize, but…”) are commonly used to make polite requests or express consideration. Keigo serves as a built-in script for public life. For instance, train announcements employ respectful forms: “Oorino sai wa oashimoto ni go-chūi kudasai” (“When alighting, please mind your step”). This is not only courteous but also a way of reinforcing social harmony.
Another layer of complexity comes from gendered language. Men and women in Japanese often use different sentence endings, pronouns, and speech styles. For example, male speakers might say “ore” or “boku” for “I,” while female speakers might use “watashi” or “atashi.” Sentence endings like “wa” (typically feminine) or “ze” and “zo” (typically masculine) further color expression. These aren’t strict rules, but they strongly influence how one is perceived. In some cases, using a gender-nonconforming pronoun can be read as humorous or defiant. In formal settings, such distinctions are typically neutralized, but casual conversation and media reflect these gender nuances. Younger generations, especially Gen Z, increasingly adopt neutral or individualistic forms of speech, signaling a gradual shift in linguistic gender norms.
Japanese arguably has more ways to say “I” than any other language. From archaic terms to regional slang, pronouns vary according to region, gender, formality, and social role. Common options include “watashi” (neutral/formal), “boku” (polite masculine), “ore” (casual masculine), “atashi” (feminine), “jibun” (self, often in sports or military settings), and older literary forms like “ware” and “wagahai.” Regional or humorous variants such as “uchi,” “oira,” or “washi” add even more texture. Selecting the wrong pronoun can miscommunicate your gender, age, or personality. Even among native speakers, switching pronouns can completely alter a sentence’s tone.
The roots of keigo and gendered expressions lie in Japan’s feudal structure, where social hierarchy was strictly enforced. These distinctions eventually embedded themselves in the language. During the Meiji period (1868–1912)—an era of rapid modernization and Westernization—keigo was formalized and standardized for education and governance. Even in contemporary Japan, keigo still functions as a kind of social GPS that guides interaction based on context.
Foreigners often confuse humble and respectful forms, such as using “ukagaimasu” (a humble verb) when trying to elevate someone else. Using anime-style speech like “ore” or “omae” in formal settings is another common error. Sometimes learners overuse keigo to the point of sounding robotic or overly scripted, which can feel insincere. These mistakes may not be serious, but they can hinder natural communication and trust-building.
Fortunately, mastering every nuance of keigo is not a prerequisite for respectful communication. Correct use of “desu” and “masu” already earns you a great deal of goodwill. However, developing a passive understanding of keigo—so you can recognize what others are saying—makes navigating job interviews, customer service, and hierarchical conversations much easier. Memorizing a few key phrases, such as “osoreirimasu” (“I humbly apologize”) or “ukagaimasu” (“I will come/ask humbly”), adds a layer of fluency and cultural sensitivity that is appreciated.
Instead of memorizing keigo as rigid categories or lists, it’s more effective to observe its use in daily life. Listening to hotel staff, store clerks, and public announcements can provide a more intuitive grasp. Avoid mimicking anime characters unless you’re sure of the context, and consult textbooks to understand structure—but trust real-world conversation to guide your tone and timing. Choosing your pronoun, for example, is less about grammar and more about identity and awareness of your surroundings. Paying attention to how native speakers use language in different settings is the best way to absorb keigo naturally.
Japanese doesn’t merely describe the world—it structures social relationships within it. Through keigo, gendered language, and pronouns, speakers position themselves within a nuanced matrix of social roles. While this system may seem intimidating, it also enables extraordinary subtlety and interpersonal awareness. Rather than being deterred by the complexity, language learners should see keigo as a key to understanding Japanese culture. Because in the end, learning keigo isn’t just about getting grammar right—it’s about becoming more attuned to people.