The Takaichi Administration’s Decision and the Political & Geopolitical Context Behind “Within the Year”

On November 27, 2025, Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s declaration that her administration would “begin consideration of an anti-spy bill (counter-intelligence legislation) within the year” is likely to go down as one of the most significant turning points in Japan’s postwar security policy. Up to now, Japan has strengthened its framework for protecting and managing sensitive information step by step through laws such as the Act on the Protection of Specially Designated Secrets (2013), the Economic Security Promotion Act (2022), and the introduction of a security clearance (eligibility assessment) system in 2024. However, Japan has long refrained from taking the further step of enacting a full-fledged “anti-spy law” directly targeting foreign intelligence activities—largely due to concerns over civil liberties and political unease about “a return to the prewar era.”

Behind Prime Minister Takaichi’s decision to open this “Pandora’s box” lies a deep sense of alarm over the rapidly deteriorating security environment in East Asia and over the “intelligence gap” Japan faces from the perspective of economic security.

What stands out in this announcement is the extremely rapid timeline implied by the phrase “within the year.” Normally, the consideration of a bill that could split public opinion would begin with the establishment of an expert panel and take years to progress. Analysts point to three main reasons why the Takaichi administration is emphasizing such speed.

First, the year 2025 marks a period of geopolitical upheaval—such as the inauguration of a new U.S. administration and rising tensions in the Taiwan Strait—heightening fears that Japan might be left isolated within the Western alliance as a “security hole” in terms of information protection. Japan’s weak legal framework against espionage had become a major obstacle to sharing classified information and strengthening links with the Five Eyes (U.S., U.K., Australia, Canada, New Zealand).

Second is Takaichi’s own political identity. Having served as minister in charge of economic security and long known as a security hawk, an anti-spy law has been a long-cherished goal for her. It also functions as a symbolic policy agenda to shore up her administration’s political clout.

Third is the intensification of the “invisible war” in cyberspace. State-sponsored cyberattacks against critical infrastructure and advanced technologies are increasing, and existing legal tools—such as the Penal Code provisions on theft or the Act on Prohibition of Unauthorized Computer Access—are no longer sufficient. Filling these legal gaps has become an urgent necessity.

Domestically, this move will solidify support among conservative voters, but it is certain to provoke fierce backlash from liberal forces, the media, and parts of academia. Still, by deliberately sending out the strong message of “starting consideration within the year,” the Takaichi administration appears unafraid of confrontation. Rather, it seems intent on making security policy a key electoral issue and forging a clear line of political division in the run-up to the next national election.

Can Japan, as a “normal country,” build a system to protect its own information and technology with its own hands? Or will it once again be engulfed by ideological battles and end up with a watered-down law? The political process unfolding toward the end of 2025 will be a litmus test that shapes Japan’s future national identity. Under Prime Minister Takaichi’s leadership, the review process is expected to be driven by the Prime Minister’s Office, cutting across traditional ministerial silos and forming a strong promotion structure centered on the National Security Secretariat (NSS). This marks a clear departure from traditional bottom-up policymaking, and reflects the administration’s desire to normalize top-down decision-making in times of crisis.

Breaking Away from “A Spy’s Paradise”: Economic Security and the Imperative to Meet G7 Standards

Japan’s longstanding reputation in international circles as a “spy’s paradise” is not merely an embarrassing label, but a symptom of a serious structural flaw that directly translates into the loss of national interests. Under the current legal system, there is no general statute that directly criminalizes espionage as such. While leaks of classified information by public servants can be punished under the Specially Designated Secrets Act or the National Public Service Act, the options are extremely limited when it comes to industrial espionage involving private citizens or foreign nationals, or intelligence activities targeting “critically important matters” beyond diplomatic and defense secrets.

For example, if design blueprints leak from a subcontractor involved in defense equipment, or if dual-use technology (with both civilian and military applications) is removed from a university lab, such incidents are often prosecuted as “theft” or “embezzlement.” The lenient statutory penalties in such cases are far too weak to deter organized operations conducted by state-level intelligence agencies.

The primary driver behind the Takaichi administration’s decision to pursue an anti-spy bill is the demand for stronger “economic security.” Modern warfare is decided not only by missiles and tanks but also by competition in developing advanced technologies such as semiconductors, quantum computing, AI, and biotechnology. These technologies are researched and developed by private companies and universities, far beyond the traditional scope of “defense secrets.”

The security clearance (SC) system introduced in 2024, under which the government vets and certifies individuals allowed to handle sensitive information, was a major step forward. However, it is fundamentally a mechanism for access management only. To make the SC system genuinely effective, there must be a complementary criminal law framework that strictly punishes those who leak information and external actors (spies) who attempt to obtain such information illicitly. Together, these two pillars would form the “two wheels of a cart.”

All G7 countries and partners such as Australia already have robust counter-espionage legislation or equivalent frameworks in place. They have long regarded Japan’s legal shortcomings as a risk when engaging in joint research or sharing classified information with Japanese companies.

More concretely, there are increasing reports of cyberattacks against Japanese companies and research institutions, technology theft conducted under the guise of academic exchange, and surveillance activities around military bases that fall outside the scope of existing laws such as the Important Land Use Regulation Act. Investigative bodies such as the police and the Public Security Intelligence Agency are doing their best by stretching the interpretation of current laws, but they face limits on compulsory investigative powers and high hurdles for prosecution.

If an anti-spy law is enacted, the legal elements constituting espionage will be clarified, allowing law enforcement to act even at the attempted stage and to take coercive measures—including deportation—against foreign agents. This would provide essential legal infrastructure for protecting the intellectual property held by Japanese companies and for safeguarding Japan’s reliability in international joint development projects.

Moreover, as Japan seeks to build more resilient supply chains, there is a growing need for a legal basis that allows it to identify and exclude malicious actors with state backing, in order to determine which companies are trustworthy partners. In short, the ongoing consideration of an anti-spy bill goes far beyond traditional notions of “defense”: it is deeply rooted in Japan’s “survival strategy” for preserving economic prosperity and industrial competitiveness.

Concerns Over Civil Liberties and Legal Challenges: Pushback from the Media, Academia, and Opposition Parties

At the same time, the drive to enact an anti-spy law touches one of the rawest nerves in Japan’s postwar democratic society. At its root lies a deeply embedded trauma over the prewar Peace Preservation Law and the repression of free speech and the rise of a surveillance state under that regime.

Liberal media outlets, the Japan Federation of Bar Associations (Nichibenren), opposition parties, and various civil society groups have repeatedly mounted strong opposition whenever similar legislation has been floated—arguing that it could infringe upon the “right to know,” “freedom of the press,” and “academic freedom.” Unsurprisingly, Takaichi’s latest announcement has already prompted immediate expressions of alarm.

The greatest concern centers on the ambiguity of the definition of “espionage.” If the boundaries of what constitutes state secrets and spy activity are applied arbitrarily, there is a risk that investigative journalism seeking to expose government misconduct or legitimate whistleblowing could be swept into the scope of criminal liability.

Debates over the scope of “specially designated secrets” that arose when the Specially Designated Secrets Act was enacted are likely to flare up again. If, under a new anti-spy law, the categories of punishable information expand beyond defense and foreign affairs to include advanced technologies and infrastructure data related to economic security, then private-sector researchers, engineers, and business journalists could all fall under surveillance or investigation. This could create a chilling effect on corporate activity, stifle open innovation, and paradoxically undermine the very goal of economic security.

In academia, too, there are concerns that stringent vetting and information control for accepting international students or conducting joint research with overseas institutions could slow international scholarly exchange. While securing “research integrity” is undeniably important, critics argue—persuasively to many—that such measures must not evolve into excessive controls that suffocate “freedom of research.”

There are also serious legal issues surrounding investigative methods. To uncover espionage, authorities must employ advanced intelligence techniques such as communications interception, undercover operations, and the cultivation of informants—all of which inherently collide with privacy rights. Japan’s current wiretapping law applies only to a limited set of crimes, such as those covered under the Act on Punishment of Organized Crimes. To make an anti-spy law effective, the scope of legal wiretapping may need to be expanded.

However, public distrust remains strong toward any expansion of investigative powers that is not balanced by robust judicial oversight. As the Takaichi administration moves toward drafting a bill, the key challenge will be how convincingly it can present institutional safeguards—such as independent oversight bodies, mandatory reporting to the Diet, and precisely defined conditions for applying criminal penalties—to address such concerns.

Simply invoking “national interest” as a slogan will only deepen social division and raise the hurdles for passage. The administration bears a heavy responsibility to carefully design a system that strikes a workable balance between security and liberty, and to fully explain it to the public.

International Implications and the Future of Japan’s Intelligence Community: Moving Closer to the Five Eyes

From the perspective of the international community—especially Japan’s Western allies—the Takaichi administration’s move to consider anti-spy legislation will likely be welcomed as an essential step toward Japan’s maturation as a geopolitical player.

The United States, United Kingdom, and Australia, among others, have occasionally hesitated to share top-secret information with Japan because of doubts about Japan’s information assurance capabilities. This has been true even though Japan occupies a frontline geographic position in strategies vis-à-vis China, Russia, and North Korea, and despite its potentially significant strengths in SIGINT (signals intelligence) and HUMINT (human intelligence). The lack of strong legal backing for protecting shared intelligence has limited the depth of cooperation within the wider intelligence community.

Enacting an anti-spy law could serve as Japan’s de facto ticket to attaining a status close to that of a Five Eyes partner—or even evolving into a “Six Eyes” arrangement.

Such legal reform would undoubtedly enable a qualitative deepening of the Japan–U.S. alliance. Beyond the traditional division of labor—where the U.S. military wields the “sword” and the Self-Defense Forces the “shield”—Japan and the U.S. would be able to operate more closely integrated campaigns in the realms of information warfare and cognitive warfare.

Japan’s potential participation in the advanced technology pillar (Pillar II) of AUKUS, the security framework among the U.S., U.K., and Australia, has also been the subject of much discussion. Because Pillar II involves extremely sensitive cooperation in areas such as quantum technologies, AI, and hypersonic weapons, robust counter-intelligence safeguards are a prerequisite for joining. An anti-spy law would thus be a necessary condition for Japan’s formal participation, and for maintaining its place in the mainstream of next-generation military technology development. Conversely, if legal reform stalls, Japan risks being decoupled from Western technology alliances and slipping into the status of a second-tier technological power.

At the same time, strong backlash can be expected from neighboring countries—particularly China, Russia, and North Korea. These states are likely to portray Japan’s anti-spy law as a “revival of militarism” or “preparations for war,” using it for propaganda and intensifying diplomatic pressure. Anticipating that espionage in Japan will become more difficult, they may also ramp up cyberattacks and influence operations before the law’s enactment, attempting to steer Japanese public opinion against the bill.

The Takaichi administration will need to respond firmly to such external interference while simultaneously strengthening fact-based strategic communication to win domestic support.

In the longer term, this legal reform could become the first step toward restructuring and reinforcing Japan’s intelligence community. At present, intelligence functions are dispersed across the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office, the National Police Agency, the Ministry of Defense’s Intelligence Headquarters, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the Public Security Intelligence Agency. An anti-spy law could act as a catalyst for more integrated operations among these bodies.

Armed with a new legal “weapon” in the form of anti-espionage legislation, Japan’s counter-intelligence agencies would likely shift their focus from passive information collection to more proactive counter-intelligence activities. This would be an attempt to build a kind of “national immune system” that allows Japan to autonomously defend its sovereignty and national interests amid the rough seas of international politics.

Prime Minister Takaichi’s decision in 2025 will thus be remembered as a watershed moment in that long process.