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Dogs dressed up in bonnets. Diamond-studded iPhone cases shaped like unicorns. Donut-shaped purses. Hello Kitty shoes, credit cards, engine oil, and staplers. My Little Pony capsule hotel rooms. Pikachu parades. Hedgehog cafes. Pink construction trucks plastered with cartoon eyes. Miniature everything. Emojis everywhere. What is going on here?
Top left to right: Astro Boy, Hello Kitty credit card, Hello Kitty backpack, SoftBank’s Pepper robot, Pikachu Parade, Hello Kitty hat, film still from Ponyo by Studio GhibliSuch merch, and more, are a manifestation of Japan’s kawaii culture of innocence, youthfulness, vulnerability, playfulness, and other childlike qualities. Placed in certain contexts, however, it can also underscore a darker reality—a particular denial of adulthood through a willful indulgence in naïveté, commercialization, and escapism. Kawaii can be joyful and happy, but it is also a way to avoid confronting the realities of real life.
The roots of kawaii can be traced back to Japan’s Heian (“peace” or “tranquility”) period (794–1185 CE), a time when aristocrats appreciated delicate and endearing aesthetics in literature, art, and fashion.1 During the Edo period (1603–1868 CE), art and culture began to emphasize aesthetics, beauty, and playfulness.2 Woodblock prints (ukiyo-e) often depicted cute and whimsical characters.3 The modern iteration of kawaii began to take shape during the student protests of the late 1960s,4 particularly against the backdrop of the rigid culture of post-World War II Japan. In acts of defiance against academic authority, university students boycotted lectures and turned to children’s manga—a type of comic or graphic novel—as a critique of traditional educational norms.5
Kawaii can be joyful and happy, but it is also a way to avoid confronting the realities of real life.After World War II, Japan experienced significant social and economic changes. The emerging youth culture of the 1960s and 1970s began to embrace Western influences, leading to a blend of traditional Japanese aesthetics with Western pop culture.6 During the economic boom of the 1970s and 1980s, consumer subcultures flourished, and the aesthetic of cuteness found expression in playful handwriting, speech patterns, fashion, products, and themed spaces like cafes and shops. The release of Astro Boy (Tetsuwan Atomu) in 1952, created by Osamu Tezuka, is regarded by scholars as a key moment in the development of kawaii culture.7 The character’s large eyes, innocent look, and adventurous spirit resonated with both children and adults, setting the stage for the rise of other kawaii characters in popular culture. Simultaneously, as Japanese women gained more prominence in the workforce, the “burikko” archetype8—an innocent, childlike woman—became popular. This persona, exuding charm and nonthreatening femininity, was seen as enhancing her desirability in a marriage-centric society.9
Left to right: burikko handwriting, bento box, Kumamon mascot
Another catalyst for kawaii culture was the 1970’s emergence of burikko handwriting among teenage girls.10 It was this playful, childlike, rounded style of writing that included hearts, stars, and cartoonish doodles. To the chagrin of educators, it became a symbol of youthful rebellion and a break from rigid societal expectations.
Japanese culture is deeply rooted in tradition, with strict social norms governing behavior and appearance. If you drop something, it’s common to see people rush to retrieve it for you. Even at an empty intersection with no car in sight, a red light will rarely be ignored. Business cards are exchanged with a sense of deference, and social hierarchies are meticulously observed. Conformity is highly valued, while femininity is often dismissed as frivolous. Against this backdrop, the emergence of kawaii can be seen as an act of quiet resistance.
The rise of shōjo (girls’) manga in the 1970s introduced cute characters with large eyes and soft rounded faces with childlike features, popularizing the kawaii aesthetic among young girls.11 Then, in 1974, along came Sanrio’s Hello Kitty,12 commercializing and popularizing kawaii culture beyond Japan’s borders. While it started as a product range for children, it soon became popular with teens and adults alike.
Kawaii characters like Hello Kitty are often depicted in a simplistic style, with oversized eyes and minimal facial expressions. This design invites people to project their own feelings and emotions onto the characters. As a playful touch, Hello Kitty has no mouth—ensuring she’ll never reveal your secrets!
By the 1980s and 1990s, kawaii had permeated stationery, toys, fashion, digital communications, games, and beyond. Franchises like Pokémon, anime series such as Sailor Moon, and the whimsical works of Studio Ghibli exported a sense of childlike wonder and playfulness to audiences across the globe. Even banks and airlines embraced cuteness as a strategy to attract customers, as did major brands like Nissan, Mitsubishi, Sony, and Nintendo. What may have begun as an organic expression of individuality was quickly commodified by industry.
Construction sites, for example, frequently feature barricades shaped like cartoon animals or flowers, softening the visual impact of urban development.13 They also display signs with bowing figures apologizing for any inconvenience. These elements are designed to create a sense of comfort for those passing by. Similarly, government campaigns use mascots like Kumamon,14 a cuddly bear, to promote tourism or public health initiatives. Japanese companies and government agencies use cute mascots, referred to as Yuru-chara, to create a friendly image and foster a sense of connection. You’ll even find them in otherwise harsh environments like high security prisons, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, and, well, the Japanese Sewage Association uses them too.15
Kawaii aesthetics have also appeared in high-tech domains. Robots designed for elder care, such as SoftBank’s Pepper,16 often adopt kawaii traits to appear less intimidating and foster emotional connections. In the culinary world, bento boxes featuring elaborately arranged food in cute and delightful shapes have become a creative art form, combining practicality with aesthetic pleasure—and turning ordinary lunches into whimsical and joyful experiences.
Sanrio Puroland (website)Kawaii hasn’t stayed confined to Japan’s borders. It has become popular in other countries like South Korea, and had a large influence in the West as well. It has become a global representation of Japan, so much so that it helps draw in tourism, particularly to the Harajuku district in Tokyo and theme parks like Sanrio Puroland. In 2008, Hello Kitty was even named as Japan’s official tourism ambassador.17
The influence of kawaii extends beyond tourism. Taiwanese airline EVA Air celebrated Hello Kitty’s 40th birthday with a special edition Boeing 777-300ER, featuring Hello Kitty-themed designs, menus, and crew uniforms on its Paris-Taipei route.18 Even the Vatican couldn’t resist the power of cute: In its appeal to younger generations, it introduced Luce, a cheerful young girl with big eyes, blue hair, and a yellow raincoat, as the mascot for the 2025 Jubilee Year and the Vatican’s pavilion at Expo 2025.19
Taiwanese airline EVA Air celebrated Hello Kitty’s 40th birthday with a special edition Boeing 777-300ER, featuring Hello Kitty- themed designs, menus, and crew uniforms on its Paris–Taipei route.Could anime and kawaii culture become vehicles for Catholicism? Writing for UnHerd, Katherine Dee suggests that Luce represents a global strategy to transcend cultural barriers in ways that traditional symbols, like the rosary, cannot. She points out that while Europe’s Catholic population has been shrinking, the global Catholic community continues to grow by millions.20 But while Luce may bring more attention to the Vatican, can she truly inspire deeper connections to God or spirituality?
All that said, the bigger question remains: Why does anyone find any of this appealing or cute?
One answer comes from the cultural theorist Sianne Ngai, who said that there’s a “surprisingly wide spectrum of feelings, ranging from tenderness to aggression, that we harbor toward ostensibly subordinate and unthreatening commodities.”21 That’s a fancy way of saying that humans find babies cute, a discovery that, in fact, was awarded the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine to the Austrian zoologist and ethologist Konrad Lorenz for his research on the “baby schema”22 (or Kindchenschema), to explain how and why certain infantile facial and physical traits are seen as cute. These features include an overly large head, rounded forehead, large eyes, and protruding cheeks.23 Lorenz argued that this is so because such features trigger a biological response within us—a desire to nurture and protect because we view them as proxies for vulnerability. The more such features, the more we are wired to care for those who embody them.24 Simply put, when these traits are projected onto characters or art or products, it promotes the same kind of response in us as seeing a baby.
Modern research validates Lorenz’s theory. A 2008 brain imaging study showed that viewing infant faces, but not adult ones, triggered a response in the orbitofrontal cortex linked to reward processing.25 Another brain imaging study conducted at Washington University School of Medicine26 investigated how different levels of “baby schema” in infant faces—characteristics like big eyes and round cheeks—affect brain activity. Researchers discovered that viewing baby-like features activates the nucleus accumbens, a key part of the brain’s reward system responsible for processing pleasure and motivation. This effect was observed in women who had never had children. The researchers concluded that this activation of the brain’s reward system is the neurophysiological mechanism that triggers caregiving behavior.
A very different type of study,27 conducted in 2019, further confirmed that seeing baby-like features triggers a strong emotional reaction. In this case, the reaction is known as “kama muta,” a Sanskrit term that describes the feeling of being deeply moved or touched by love. This sensation is often accompanied by warmth, nostalgia, or even patriotism. The researchers found that videos featuring cute subjects evoked significantly more kama muta than those without such characteristics. Moreover, when the cute subjects were shown “interacting affectionately,” the feeling of kama muta was even stronger compared to when the subjects were not engaging in affectionate behavior.
In 2012, Osaka University professor Hiroshi Nittono led a research study that found that “cuteness” has an impact on observers, increasing their focus and attention.28 It also speaks to our instinct to nurture and protect that which appears vulnerable—which cute things, with their more infantilized traits, do. After all, who doesn’t love Baby Yoda? Perhaps that’s why some of us are so drawn to purchase stuffed dolls of Eeyore—it makes us feel as if we are rescuing him. When we see something particularly cute, many of us feel compelled to buy it. Likewise, it’s possible, at least subconsciously, that those who engage in cosplay around kawaii do so out of a deeper need to feel protected themselves. Research shows that viewing cute images improves moods and is associated with relaxation.29
Kawaii may well be useful in our fast-paced and stressful lives. For starters, when we find objects cute or adorable, we tend to treat them better and give them greater care. There’s also a contagious happiness effect. Indeed, could introducing more kawaii into our environments make people happier? Might it encourage us to care more for each other and our communities? The kawaii aesthetic could even be used in traditionally serious spaces—like a doctor’s waiting room or emergency room—to help reduce anxiety. Instead of staring at a blank ceiling in the dentist’s chair, imagine looking up at a whimsical kawaii mural instead.
Consider also the Tamagotchi digital pet trend of the 1990s. Children were obsessed with taking care of this virtual pet, tending to its needs ranging from food to entertainment. Millions of these “pets” were sold and were highly sought after. There’s something inherently appealing to children about mimicking adult roles, especially when it comes to caregiving. It turns out that children don’t just want to be cared for by their parents—they also seem to have an innate desire to nurture others. This act of caregiving can make them feel capable, empowered, and useful, tapping into a deep sense of responsibility and connection.
At Chuo University in Tokyo, there’s an entire new field of “cute studies” founded by Dr. Joshua Dale, whose book summarizes his research: Irresistible: How Cuteness Wired our Brains and Changed the World.30 According to Dale, there are four traditional and aesthetic values of Japanese culture that contributed to the rise of kawaii: (1) valuing the diminutive, (2) treasuring the transient, (3) preference for simplicity, and (4) appreciating the playful and transient.31 His work emphasizes how kawaii is not just about cuteness, but in fact expresses a deeply rooted cultural philosophy that reflects Japanese views on beauty, life, and emotional expression.
The “cult of cute” can lead people to seek refuge from responsibility and avoid confronting uncomfortable emotions.In other words, there’s something about kawaii that goes beyond a style or a trend. It is a reflection of deeper societal values and emotional needs. In a society that has such rigid hierarchies, social structures, decorum, and an intense work culture, kawaii provides a form of escapism—offering a respite from the harsh realities of adulthood and a return to childlike innocence. It is a safe form of vulnerability. Yet, does it also hint at an inability to confront the realities of life?
The “cult of cute” can lead people to seek refuge from responsibility and avoid confronting uncomfortable emotions. By surrounding themselves with cuteness and positivity, they may be trying to shield themselves from darker feelings and worries. In some cases, people even adapt their own personal aesthetics to appear cuter, as this can make them seem more innocent and in need of help—effectively turning cuteness into a protective layer.
Kawaii also perpetuates infantilization, particularly among women who feel pressured to conform to kawaii aesthetics, which often places them in a submissive role. This is especially evident in subgenres like Lolita fashion—a highly detailed, feminine, and elegant style inspired by Victorian and Rococo fashion, but with a modern and whimsical twist. While this style is adopted by many women with the female gaze in mind, the male gaze remains inescapable.
Japanese Lolita fashionAs a result, certain elements of kawaii can sometimes veer into the sexual, both intentionally and as an unintended distortion of innocence. Maid cafes, for example, though not designed to be sexually explicit, often carry sexual undertones that undermine their seemingly innocent and cute appeal. In these cafes, maids wear form-fitting uniforms and play into fantasies of servitude and submission—particularly when customers are addressed as “masters” and flirtatious interactions are encouraged.
It’s important to remember that things that look sweet and cute can also be sinister. The concept of “cute” often evokes feelings of trust, affection, and vulnerability, which can paradoxically make it a powerful tool for manipulation, subversion, and even control. Can kawaii be a Trojan horse?
When used in marketing to sell products, it may seem harmless, but how much of the rational consumer decision-making process does it override? And what evil lurks behind all the sparkle? In America, cuteness manifests itself even more boldly and aggressively. One designer, Lisa Frank, built an entire empire in the 1980s and 1990s on vibrant, neon colors and whimsical artwork featuring rainbow-colored animals, dolphins, glitter, and images of unicorns on stickers, adorning backpacks and other merchandise. Her work is closely associated with a sense of nostalgia for millennials who grew up in that era. Yet, as later discovered and recently recalled in the Amazon documentary, “Glitter and Greed: The Lisa Frank Story,” avarice ultimately led to a toxic work environment, poor working conditions, and alleged abuse.
Worse, can kawaii be used to mask authoritarian intentions or erase the memory of serious crimes against humanity?
As Japan gained prominence in global culture, its World War II and earlier atrocities have been largely overshadowed, causing many to overlook these grave historical events.32 When we think of Japan today, we often think of cultural exports like anime, manga, Sanrio, geishas, and Nintendo. Even though Japan was once an imperial power, today it exercises “soft power” in the sociopolitical sphere. This concept, introduced by American political scientist Joseph Nye,33 refers to influencing others by promoting a nation’s culture and values to make foreign audiences more receptive to its perspectives.
Deep down, we harbor anxieties about how technology might impact our lives or what could happen if it begins to operate independently. By designing robots to look cute and friendly, we tend to assuage such fear and discomfort.Japan began leveraging this strategy in the 1980s to rehabilitate its tarnished postwar reputation, especially in the face of widespread anti-Japanese sentiment in neighboring Asian nations. Over time, these attitudes shifted as Japan used “kawaii culture” and other forms of pop-culture diplomacy to reshape its image and move beyond its violent, imperialist past.
Kawaii also serves as a way to neutralize our fears by transforming things we might typically find unsettling into endearing and approachable forms—think Casper the Friendly Ghost or Monsters, Inc. This principle extends to emerging technologies, such as robots. Deep down, we harbor anxieties about how technology might impact our lives or what could happen if it begins to operate independently. By designing robots to look cute and friendly, we tend to assuage such fear and discomfort. Embedding frightening concepts with qualities that evoke happiness or safety allows us to navigate the interplay between darkness and light, innocence and danger, in a more approachable way. In essence, it’s a coping mechanism for our primal fears.
An interesting aspect of this is what psychologists call the uncanny valley—a feeling of discomfort that arises when something is almost humanlike, but not quite. Horror filmmakers have exploited this phenomenon by weaponizing cuteness against their audiences with characters like the Gremlins and the doll Chucky. The dissonance between a sweet appearance and sinister intent creates a chilling effect that heightens the horror.
When we embrace kawaii, are we truly finding joy, or are we surrendering to an illusion of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world?Ultimately, all this speaks to the multitude of layers to kawaii. It is more than an aesthetic; it’s a cultural phenomenon with layers of meaning, and it reflects both societal values and emotional needs. Its ability to evoke warmth and innocence can also be a means of emotional manipulation. It can serve as an unassuming guise for darker intentions or meanings. It can be a medium for individual expression, and yet simultaneously it has been commodified and overtaken by consumerism. It can be an authentic expression, yet mass production has also made it a symbol of artifice. It’s a way to embrace the innocent and joyful, yet it can also be used to avoid facing the harsher realities of adulthood. When we embrace kawaii, are we truly finding joy, or are we surrendering to an illusion of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world?
It’s worth asking whether the prevalence of kawaii in public and private spaces reflects a universal desire for escapism or if it serves as a tool to maintain conformity and compliance. Perhaps, at its core, kawaii holds up a mirror to society’s collective vulnerabilities—highlighting not just what we nurture, but also what we are willing to overlook for the sake of cuteness.