Evaporated People

“What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14b

When Takahashi san* was laid off from his high paying job without warning, he was ashamed to tell anyone so he continued to pretend every day that he was going to work. After a few weeks, Mr. Takahashi could no longer maintain the charade so instead of disclosing the situation or committing suicide as some might choose to do, he simply disappeared. In doing so, Takahashi san joined the company of many others like him who in colloquial Japanese are referred to as “jōhatsusha” (蒸発者) or, the “evaporated ones.” Each year roughly 100,000 Japanese disappear in a similar manner with a number of factors accounting for such an extreme reaction. Some are fleeing abusive marriages, others seek to escape financial obligations such as unpaid loans or gambling debts, while many simply cannot face real or perceived expectations they have failed to meet.

The term jōhatsusha was first coined in the 1960s when many individuals started to disappear in order to escape broken marriages to avoid public and expensive divorce proceedings. This new social trend escalated even further in the 1990s when the economic bubble burst and a multitude of people, particularly men, suddenly lost the security and benefits of lifetime employment. Seeking a reset in life, many changed their names and often refused entitled public benefits in order to maintain their anonymity. These “evaporated people” quietly entered into a burgeoning shadow economy by taking on low-paying day jobs to make ends meet and increasingly congregated in urban areas of Japan often dominated by Japanese yakuza (mafia). In most cases, it is possible for jōhatsusha to hide in plain sight because of strict Japanese privacy laws that protect their identities. As time slips by, many families cease looking for them altogether and slowly start to regard them as being “dead.” In addition, police have no obligation or interest in tracking jōhatsusha down unless they have committed some kind of crime. Once someone steps out of line in Japan it is very difficult to reenter normal societal patterns, even if one has a change in heart. Second chances are rare in Japan so those who initially choose to evaporate tend to remain in an invisible state, even if they eventually regret that choice.

Since this social phenomenon is widespread and continues to quietly increase, shady companies have steadily emerged alongside this trend to assist those wishing to disappear. These new enterprises are referred to as “yonigeya” (夜逃げや), which is roughly translated as “night flight relocators.” For a set fee, depending upon the service rendered and risks involved, these dubious companies provide the practical logistics needed to help people evaporate. This assistance may include moving possessions, creating false documentation, dealing with loan sharks, offering physical protection, providing transportation or finding a new living location. In addition to yonigeya, published guidelines are easily available to assist those who are considering a jōhatsusha lifestyle.

The choice to evaporate and disappear from life is for many a form of self-preservation. For some it even includes an element of altruism that provides an alternative so they can avoid inflicting any further pain upon loved ones. However, most jōhatsusha would probably acknowledge that adopting a vaporous lifestyle is an inadequate solution that may solve some problems but also creates others. Such acts of desperation inevitably remind us of the transient nature of life itself apart from God and living according to His purposes. James describes such a life as being like a “mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14b) We may be able to evaporate from the pursuit of men but never from the presence of God. Unlike a vapor, a life of obedience lingers for eternity.

*Fictional name and incident