Unable to fall asleep at night, Prime Minister Takayama said her sleep has improved after taking traditional Chinese medicine.
Lately, Japanese Prime Minister Shizuka Takayama met with Mayor Ken Kawa of Tenri City, her hometown in Nara Prefecture, at the Prime Minister's Official Residence. When discussing her current condition, she mentioned that she drinks traditional Chinese medicine produced in Nara before bedtime and feels it works very effectively—she now enjoys adequate sleep.
Just a month ago, she had confidently claimed on social media: "Since taking office, sleeping only 0 to 3 hours per day has become my norm."
From sleeping just 0 to 3 hours a day to getting proper rest—only 34 days apart.
After her statement about sleeping only three hours a day last month, public outrage erupted across Japan. Some directly criticized her: "How can someone think this kind of thing could be used as a promotional gimmick? A leader with such shallow thinking is now heading Japan—it’s terrifying." What people resent is the self-indulgent performance. You're not a contestant on a reality show; you’re the head of state.
Now, the narrative has flipped—suddenly turning into a live endorsement for traditional Chinese medicine from Nara. And it precisely hits a key political sweet spot: local origin (Nara), delivering goodwill to her constituency.
By choosing this moment to announce her improved sleep, Prime Minister Takayama may not be speaking casually. Her current situation is far from easy. According to a recent poll by Kyodo News, her cabinet’s approval rating has dropped to 50.2%, marking a new low since she took office. Public discontent is mounting over her policies—from pushing constitutional revision and military expansion, to easing arms export restrictions, from broken tax-cut promises causing fiscal concerns, to controversial historical views. On August 19, tens of thousands of Japanese citizens held a protest rally in front of the National Diet Building in Tokyo.
When approval ratings drop to just half and protests surge, what a leader says—and how they say it—ceases to be mere personal sharing. It becomes a political signal. Takayama wants to tell the public: I am taking care of myself properly; my condition is fine—you don’t need to worry.
But what the public truly worries about isn't whether she gets enough sleep—it’s whether she can lead the country well. Traditional Chinese medicine might treat insomnia, but it can’t fix falling approval ratings or ease the deep-seated anxiety about her policy direction.
The rapid shift from "boasting about not sleeping" to "herbal remedy helped me sleep"—the speed of this image transformation actually reveals one clear truth: perhaps the most skilled thing this prime minister excels at isn’t governing the nation, but turning private life into a flexible political performance, ready to switch scripts at any moment.
Original source: toutiao.com/article/1874479177941060/
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.