Japan’s First Female Prime Minister Has to Be a Hard-Liner
In a leadership vote on Saturday, Sanae Takaichi is tipped to become Japan’s first female prime minister. Takaichi offers a powerful demonstration of progress and gender visibility on the global stage. Yet the substance of her politics—a rigidly ultraconservative ideology molded by her mentor, former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe—actively serves to reinforce, rather than dismantle, the entrenched conservative and patriarchal structures of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). In this way, Takaichi’s premiership will not be a progressive breakthrough so much as a critical test of whether a woman can only achieve real power in Japan by demonstrating an “over-loyalty” to the LDP’s deepest, most traditional impulses.
Globally, Japan remains an outlier on gender equality: The 2025 Global Gender Gap Index ranks the nation a concerning 118th out of 148 countries, placing it last among the G-7 nations. This disparity is predominantly attributable to the severe political underrepresentation of women. The cabinet of Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba says it all: In October 2024, the new administration appointed only two women to the cabinet, a significant drop from five in the preceding lineup. Takaichi’s personal success constitutes a rare and spectacular exception and raises the question of whether her personal ascent will translate into genuine, substantive gender reforms—or whether she is primarily a symbol of cosmetic progress.
In a leadership vote on Saturday, Sanae Takaichi is tipped to become Japan’s first female prime minister. Takaichi offers a powerful demonstration of progress and gender visibility on the global stage. Yet the substance of her politics—a rigidly ultraconservative ideology molded by her mentor, former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe—actively serves to reinforce, rather than dismantle, the entrenched conservative and patriarchal structures of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). In this way, Takaichi’s premiership will not be a progressive breakthrough so much as a critical test of whether a woman can only achieve real power in Japan by demonstrating an “over-loyalty” to the LDP’s deepest, most traditional impulses.
Globally, Japan remains an outlier on gender equality: The 2025 Global Gender Gap Index ranks the nation a concerning 118th out of 148 countries, placing it last among the G-7 nations. This disparity is predominantly attributable to the severe political underrepresentation of women. The cabinet of Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba says it all: In October 2024, the new administration appointed only two women to the cabinet, a significant drop from five in the preceding lineup. Takaichi’s personal success constitutes a rare and spectacular exception and raises the question of whether her personal ascent will translate into genuine, substantive gender reforms—or whether she is primarily a symbol of cosmetic progress.
This dynamic seems to align closely with the concept of the “glass cliff,” the phenomenon where women (and other marginalized groups) are elevated to high-stakes, precarious leadership positions during periods of organizational crisis or decline, making them highly visible but vulnerable to inevitable failure. For instance, in Australia, Sussan Ley was appointed leader of the conservative Liberal Party in May 2025 at its lowest ebb ever. This move was seen by political commentators as a glass-cliff scenario as she inherited a broken party with severely diminished electoral prospects, setting her up to fail or simply stabilize the party for a future male successor.
In the same manner, Takaichi’s rise © Foreign Policy
