In many Western countries, especially the United States, the term “real estate broker” carries an air of prestige. Brokers are often seen as well-dressed professionals, managing large transactions, negotiating high-end deals, and commanding respect within the business community. They typically hold advanced licenses and often run their own agencies. However, in Japan, the same term evokes an entirely different reaction—one often shaded by suspicion, skepticism, and cultural disdain.
In the Japanese context, the word “broker” (burōkā) is almost synonymous with backroom deals, murky legality, and unscrupulous behavior. The term is often associated with unlicensed intermediaries—individuals who operate without formal registration under Japan’s Real Estate Brokerage Act (takken gyōhō) and who may engage in opaque negotiations, price gouging, and high-pressure tactics. These figures are relics of Japan’s bubble era, when land speculation ran rampant and “land shark” (jōage-ya) tactics were not uncommon.
Although such actors do not represent the majority of the real estate industry today, their legacy lingers. Many Japanese people still carry a negative impression of real estate professionals, especially in urban centers. This perception spills over to legitimate real estate agents and even to licensed takkenshi, despite the fact that the takkenshi certification is a rigorous national qualification with a notoriously low pass rate. The conflation of illegal brokers with legitimate professionals has had lasting consequences.
In practice, most “brokers” in Japan today—particularly those labeled with the term—do not limit themselves by property type. They may handle residential, commercial, or mixed-use properties alike. However, what defines their operation is their clientele: they exclusively deal with real estate business entities such as developers, construction companies, or institutional investors—not with individual end-users. For example, a broker might facilitate the sale of a parcel intended for a future private home, but their counterpart will always be a professional buyer, not the future homeowner. This structural separation is key: Japanese brokers avoid direct transactions with the general public, instead operating exclusively within B2B frameworks. As such, their role often centers around sourcing land, arranging introductions, and managing off-market deals that are destined to be developed and later sold or leased by others.
However, the methods used by these brokers often appear outdated or opaque to outsiders. Fax machines are still common in communications. Deal terms are frequently vague until late in negotiations. Some brokers “layer” deals by inserting themselves between buyer and seller, taking a cut from both sides—sometimes without clear disclosure. This is known colloquially as “anko” (bean paste), a term used to describe the hidden middle layers of a transaction.
The roots of this perception lie in Japan’s infamous asset bubble of the 1980s. During that time, land prices skyrocketed and speculative transactions dominated the market. Unlicensed brokers—some even connected to organized crime—played aggressive roles in “land assembly” operations, pressuring small landowners to sell their property at discounted rates so developers could build high-rise projects. These “jōage-ya,” or land busters, often relied on intimidation, manipulation, and backdoor politics. The public backlash against these tactics cemented a deep mistrust toward “brokers” that persists today.
While regulations have tightened, the stigma remains. Real estate professionals today often have to work hard to distance themselves from this past. The introduction of stricter licensing laws, consumer protection systems, and mandatory training has helped rebuild some of the industry’s image. Yet, the persistence of “gray zone” actors, especially in commercial transactions, continues to undermine full transparency.
Understanding the distinction between legally licensed professionals and informal brokers is particularly important for foreigners involved in business transactions. For example, when leasing an office or purchasing a warehouse, it is not uncommon for intermediaries to ask for success fees, introduction bonuses, or vaguely defined coordination costs. These may be standard practice in certain circles, but they are not regulated—and may be inflated or unjustified. Foreigners unfamiliar with these customs may assume they are illegal or deceptive when they are simply “unwritten rules” of the Japanese market.
The qualification of takkenshi (licensed real estate transaction specialist) is awarded only to those who pass a challenging national examination. The pass rate hovers around 15% annually, and the curriculum covers civil law, real estate law, building regulations, tax policy, and ethics. This level of rigor underscores the importance of distinguishing between qualified professionals and informal actors who offer no guarantees and accept no liability.
Moreover, Japan’s reliance on trust and relationships means that some property deals are not advertised openly. Instead, they circulate within networks—accessible only to those with established connections. This system rewards long-term engagement and local presence but can alienate newcomers. In such a landscape, informal brokers—despite their legal ambiguity—are sometimes seen as necessary bridges. However, this dependence also enables outdated technologies, like fax machines and physical documents, to persist.
Recently, there have been signs of modernization. Some startups and tech-savvy firms now offer digital platforms that list commercial properties transparently, with verified agent credentials and digital documentation. But adoption remains slow, especially among older brokers who have been in the business for decades. Many still operate from personal address books and word-of-mouth referrals.
Another challenge for foreigners is the asymmetry of information. Some brokers deliberately withhold listings, creating a sense of scarcity or urgency. This practice, sometimes described as “information hoarding,” benefits the intermediary at the client’s expense. They may also present different information to different parties to manipulate price expectations. Foreign investors unfamiliar with this dynamic may unknowingly enter into negotiations without complete context—putting them at a strategic disadvantage.
In Japanese real estate circles, the term “migi kara hidari”—literally “from right to left”—refers to brokers who pass along deals with minimal input, simply collecting referral fees as the paperwork flows. This model, while efficient in certain scenarios, lacks accountability. Foreign parties should always clarify who is doing what, and who is being paid for what role, before accepting introductions or signing letters of intent.
Fortunately, some trade groups and prefectural real estate boards offer resources for foreign buyers. These organizations provide lists of certified agencies, information on complaint resolution, and sometimes English-language materials. Reaching out to such neutral bodies can be a helpful starting point, especially for those entering Japan’s real estate market for the first time.
For foreign businesses seeking to enter the Japanese market, the safest path is to work with a bilingual legal adviser or a well-established brokerage with a track record in international deals. Such firms understand both Japanese customs and global standards, offering a hybrid of transparency and access. They can help filter out questionable intermediaries, negotiate fair terms, and navigate the layers of unspoken expectations that define Japan’s business culture.
Ultimately, the perception of “broker” in Japan reflects more than just terminology—it is a window into the country’s economic history, legal evolution, and cultural dynamics. To succeed in real estate here, one must read between the lines, respect the layers of formality, and know when to ask for credentials. The difference between a legitimate agent and a shadowy broker might not be obvious at first glance—but in Japan, it can make all the difference.