What Does It Mean, to Rent-a-Stranger?

What does it mean to rent a stranger? Surely, it’s not the same as rent- boys. It feels a lot like therapy, except that the meetings between client and stranger often take place in public. They are not hidden from public view.

In another sense, some people rent strangers because they want someone to confide in. They want someone who will listen attentively to their complaints and their traumas, who will feel their pain and will say nothing. At that point, this sounds quite a bit like certain forms of therapy, where therapists-- let’s call them psychoanalysts-- listen attentively and say nothing. They do not even look you in the eye.

So, let’s say you are a young woman in Tokyo and you want to go out for lunch. And yet, you do not want to go it alone. So you rent a stranger as a sit-in for a date. You are not renting an escort-- it has slightly different implications, but you are buying the services of a placeholder-- Like a good analyst the rented stranger will say nothing for the entirety of the lunch. Of course, unlike an analyst, he might sometimes look at you.

The Washington Post reports the story:

Before moving out of Tokyo for her new job, Akari Shirai wanted to eat at the favorite restaurant she used to visit with her then husband. There was one issue: She didn’t want to be flooded with thoughts about her divorce by going alone. But she didn’t feel like inviting a friend and explaining the situation, either.

So she rented Japan’s “do-nothing guy.”

Their near-silent lunch lasted about 45 minutes. Shirai ordered her favorite dish and intermittently asked questions. She shared memories of her marriage and showed him a photo from the wedding. He nodded and gave curt answers, sometimes a dry laugh. He never initiated conversation.

It was exactly what Shirai wanted.

“I felt like I was with someone but at the same time felt like I wasn’t, since he existed in a way where I didn’t have to be attentive of his needs or think about him,” said Shirai, 27. “I felt no awkwardness or pressure to speak. It may have been the first time I’ve eaten in complete silence.”

Of course, the Post suggests that the habit, which is becoming commonplace in Japan and South Korea, liberates people from social norms. The norms in question involve the loss of face that befalls those who have lunch alone or who attend family functions unaccompanied.

Yet, the Post is wrong. The habit of renting strangers-- doesn’t it feel a bit like escorting?-- does maintain social norms. The norm in question, that you not go out in public alone, is respected. Nothing about the norm says that you need to be accompanied by someone you are closely involved with. It only says that you should not be alone. Because if you are other people will feel sorry for you and you do not want to elicit such negative feelings in other people.

Now, in some Asian countries you rent strangers to “impersonate” friends and family members.

For years, there’s been a cottage industry in Japan and South Korea of renting strangers to impersonate friends, family members or other acquaintances, as a way to save face at social functions where plus-ones are expected.

But over the past four years, Shoji Morimoto, 38, has built a cult following by offering himself as a warm body who can simply be there, liberating his clients from the social expectations of the spoken and unspoken norms of Japanese society.

Young Morimoto has become famous in Japan by selling his services to people who want to confide in someone who will apparently not gossip about their intimate difficulties:

Morimoto — nicknamed “Rental-san,” incorporating an honorific — has inspired a television series and three books and has drawn international attention through his viral social media posts.

Some clients want him to be a placeholders. But others want a sympathetic listener, like a therapist, who will remain mute, like a sphinx, who will not judge and will not engage. Of course, one needs to say that if you confide in a stranger, you do well to ensure that the stranger is not going to sell your stories to the tabloids or to use them to extort funds or favor.

Anyway, the pseudo-therapist charges for his services, and, dare we say, has no professional credentials in being a mute witness. Then again, why does not need special credentials to be a mute listener?

Note also that when Morimoto’s clients discuss traumatic experiences, they say that they do not want to burden others with their plaints. This is strange to our Western ears, where we insist that we be open, honest and shameless with everyone. If we are not burdening friends and family with our ills, we feel that we are not being authentic. Isn't there something wrong with that social norm?

Anyway, the rent-a-stranger phenomenon shows some considerable respect for other people. Why bother them with painful experiences they cannot do anything about?

Morimoto’s gigs have run the gamut. He waited at the finish line of a marathon for a client who wanted to see a familiar face at the end of the race. Someone hired him to sit with them while they finished their thesis, because they might slack off working alone. He listens to health-care workers describe the mental health toll of the pandemic.

He charges 10,000 yen (about $85) per session, and is most frequently hired to accompany people who are at a turning point in life, who want to rewrite traumatic memories or experience a vulnerable moment they feel uncomfortable sharing with friends or family. He’ll just be there, with no judgment, and away from your personal space.

Sometimes, as with other rented strangers, people hire him because they simply want to be accompanied at an unpleasant event.

One woman hired him to accompany her as she filed her divorce papers. He once sat with a client for a hemorrhoid surgery consultation — with plenty of graphic photos. Someone hired him for a dramatic farewell as they boarded a bullet train to move from Tokyo to Osaka; he showed up and waved goodbye.

Morimoto often finds that his clients don’t want to burden people they care about with their needs.

“I think when people are feeling vulnerable or are in their intimate moments, they become more sensitive toward people that are close to them, like how they will be perceived, or the kind of actions they will take for them,” he said. “So I think they want to just reach out to a stranger without any strings attached.”

Note well, people do not want to burden their friends and family with their trauma. How different is that from the Western approach where we expect our friends and family to be there all the time, to be burdened by our needs.

And of course, Morimoto functions like something of a therapist:

Unlike for others in the rental cottage industry, the expectations for Morimoto are minimal. Still, he provides emotional support that many people crave but may have trouble finding, especially during a pandemic that has exacerbated feelings of isolation, said Yasushi Fujii, a psychology professor at Meisei University in Tokyo.

“Interacting with friends and other people, there are always unknown factors that can come into play. But meeting with Rental-san, it’s very easy to know what to expect and to be in full control of the situation,” Fujii said.

A handful of other “rental” people have similar shticks, like a guy who gets hired to be treated to meals and a self-professed “ugly” guy who claims to boost others’ self-esteem. But Morimoto has cornered his niche market of doing nothing for cash, and many people now hire him for the novelty.

There it is, doing nothing for cash. Perhaps it's just the Eastern version of therapy. Or perhaps it shows why therapy has never taken root in those countries.