Shoji Morimoto has the perfect job. The 38-year-old Tokyo resident gets paid to do nothing. All he does is hire himself out as a companion. no small talk required, for 10,000 yen ($71) per booking. This “job” sees him accompany people who might, as one client wanted, go out for a quiet cup of tea or play on a see-saw with another. Morimoto makes enough money from this job — which he took up after he was rebuked for “doing nothing” at a previous job in publishing — to support a wife and child.
The appeal of Morimoto’s job is evident. Which hamster stuck on the 9-to-5 wheel hasn’t wished to be paid to simply exist or, at the most, to do the very least required to earn money? A story like Morimoto’s offers hope that there is a way out of the burnout culture that most employees find themselves stuck in, an alternative to the hustle-till-you-drop valorisation of productivity.
Look closer, however, and this story of the perfect job — one which may make the average person wonder if they’re a mug for risking repetitive stress injury at their desk job — is a lot less cheering. Take, for instance, the gig that required Morimoto to smile and wave at a complete stranger through a train window because the latter wanted a send-off. Or Morimoto’s claim that at least a quarter of his clients are repeat customers, with one having hired him 270 times. That so many are willing to pay for the simple companionship that, in a less disconnected world, would be freely available, speaks of a profound malaise of loneliness. It won’t be fixed by one man hiring himself out.
