In Japan, February 14 has long meant more than romance. The holiday has doubled as a quiet barometer for gender roles, workplace expectations and who is allowed to take emotional initiative, revealing the gender politics embedded in one of the country’s most commercial traditions.

Like many other countries, Japan marks Valentine’s Day as a celebration of loved ones. What sets it apart from the West is its gendered framing: traditionally, women were expected to give chocolates to men. And not only romantic partners, but male colleagues and supervisors, as well.

The Origins of Valentine’s Day in Japan

Valentine’s Day first appeared in Japan through an advertisement by Morozoff, whose founder sought to introduce the Western custom of February 14 gift-giving after learning about it from an American friend.

The Japanese twist of women giving chocolates to men emerged from a slogan marketed by Mary’s, a Japanese chocolate brand: “The one day a year when women can confess their love to men.” The message reshaped Valentine’s Day as a rare opportunity for women to take romantic initiative, boldly pushing against norms that positioned women as passive in courtship.

How Giri-choco Became a Workplace Expectation

On the surface, the campaign appeared progressive. It framed chocolate-giving as empowerment: a sanctioned moment for women to speak first. But as the holiday spread beyond romance and into offices, chocolate-giving evolved into giri-choco—“obligation chocolate”—the practice of giving chocolates to male colleagues out of politeness.

What transformed a once-optional gesture into obligation was not romance, but workplace structure. Japanese offices are often governed by seniority, harmony and unspoken rules. Informal customs, such as pouring drinks for a superior or waiting for a boss to leave before clocking out, can carry real social weight, and opting out may feel risky. As Valentine’s Day expanded into workplaces, many women worried that not bringing chocolate might be interpreted as uncooperative, unfriendly or out of step with team norms. Even when the expectation was never stated outright, the possibility of being judged, or simply standing out, was often enough to create pressure.

Godiva’s 2018 Campaign and the Backlash Against Giri-choco

In 2018, Godiva ran a Valentine’s Day campaign in the Nikkei newspaper advising Japan to abandon giri-choco entirely. The campaign argued that Valentine’s Day had become a burden for women, with many breathing a sigh of relief when the holiday fell on a weekend that year.

It urged male supervisors to clearly state that they did not expect chocolates, exposing how much of the pressure operated through silence and assumption.

Of course, Godiva’s intervention was not purely altruistic. It also aligned with a broader marketing strategy: encouraging men to purchase Valentine’s chocolates themselves, expanding the customer base. But commercial motive does not negate the social tension the campaign highlighted. 

Harano Morihiro, the campaign’s creative director, drew from personal observations of female coworkers being attentive to male colleagues’ needs, handling mundane office tasks and living in constant anticipation of unspoken expectations. In environments where conformity signals cooperation, deviation can feel disruptive. If others were giving giri-choco, abstaining risked standing out. 

The campaign struck a chord. According to a 2026 nationwide workplace survey conducted by Asahi News, more than 85 percent of women reported that they do not want to give giri-choco to male coworkers. While the custom has not disappeared, public sentiment has shifted.

Is Giri-Choco Disappearing? Changing Gender Norms in Japan

February 14 is slowly shedding rituals of obligation, but the gender dynamics that shaped them are more persistent.

Chocolates may seem trivial, appearing only once a year. Yet they function as a small but revealing signal of deeper hierarchies that often pass as harmless custom. Like giri-choco, many everyday practices are framed as minor courtesies: women expected to tidy shared office spaces, advertisements that portray domestic labor as feminine or entertainment that codes ambition as masculine. Individually minor, collectively they reinforce patterns of inequality.

The decline of giri-choco suggests change is possible, but only when norms are questioned rather than quietly endured. Valentine’s Day may be evolving, yet broader gender equality in Japan will depend on whether similar customs are examined during the remaining 364 days of the year. As long as these expectations are passively accepted, the burden of change falls disproportionately on women.