Priority Lane Chaos Exposes Cracks in Japanese Manners Before Kansai Expo Ends

In front of popular pavilions, visitors stand waiting endlessly to get in. Meanwhile, many pavilions have set up priority lanes for invited VIPs, as well as for wheelchair and stroller users and their companions.

However, the author has witnessed troubling behavior in these lanes — groups of around ten people entering together with just one stroller, including parents, grandparents, and other children, or even older children, roughly elementary school age, being placed in strollers to gain access to the priority lane.

Similar issues have been seen with wheelchairs. In some cases, people have confronted staff at pavilions without priority lanes, demanding, “Why can’t we get priority entry?” Some pavilions have even had to revise their rules after opening, limiting use to two accompanying persons or fewer.

While in many countries it is customary to prioritize people with disabilities or other needs — often more so than in Japan — at the Expo’s international pavilions, such consideration was clearly visible early in the event. Yet, as the months went by, that proactive spirit seems to have faded.

In addition, there have been numerous cases where people who had only one person standing in line at a pavilion were later joined by large groups midway through, or where others casually cut in line. When queues became too long and crowd-control measures were put in place, some visitors ignored staff telling them “Please don’t wait here,” and remained in place until the restrictions were lifted—then rushed forward the moment entry resumed, creating dangerously chaotic situations. In one case, a person was knocked over in the surge, and the one who bumped into them didn’t even stop to help. The injured person ended up receiving treatment in the first-aid station.

At the west gate, where the author was waiting to enter, the crowd was tightly packed. Two elderly women nearby began arguing—“I was here first!” “Don’t push me!”—and since both appeared to be alone, no one around intervened. The quarrel continued all the way until they finally entered.

Poor manners among visitors can be seen elsewhere too. For example, while waiting at the gates or pavilions, many people use parasols to shield themselves from the heat, something even encouraged by the Expo Association. However, in dense crowds, parasols can be hazardous to others. The author repeatedly witnessed parasol tips poking people’s bodies—and at times dangerously close to their faces.

Many visitors also bring folding chairs to use while waiting, now considered one of the must-have items for attending the Expo. But when seated people open parasols, it’s easy for them to bump into those standing nearby.

Furthermore, in the “Commons” area—joint pavilions where many countries have their booths—an increasing number of visitors have been touching the exhibits. Even if there’s no explicit sign saying “Do not touch,” it should go without saying that items carefully transported all the way from overseas to Japan deserve respectful handling. Though it may be only a small fraction of visitors, such behavior sadly calls into question the standard of manners among Japanese people.

After 9 p.m., the route leading to Yumeshima Station becomes pure chaos. Until evening, visitors can exit through the East Gate and head straight to the station, but at night, a detour route is set up to prevent overcrowding inside the station. What takes just a few minutes during the day can stretch to 30 minutes or even an hour at night—earning the event the nickname “The Commuter Expo.”

Even after leaving the gates, the path to the station is packed, forcing people to move slowly in dense crowds. Yet amid this, there are always those who try to push ahead, determined to get in front. Moving forward through such a crush isn’t easy, and many bump into others without so much as an apology, single-mindedly forcing their way through. In all the times the author has witnessed this scene, every one of those people has been Japanese.