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Japan's New Year TV Culture: What Everyone Is Watching on January 1st

2026-05-14·9 min read
Japan's New Year TV Culture: What Everyone Is Watching on January 1st

Japan's New Year TV Culture: What Everyone Is Watching on January 1st

You know how Americans have the Super Bowl or the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? Well, Japan has a completely different kind of TV tradition that practically defines the first few days of the year. And I'm not talking about some niche cultural thing—I mean literally everyone is watching the same handful of shows, discussing them at work, and making it part of their New Year's ritual.

When I first moved to Japan, I was confused why my neighbors invited me over specifically to watch TV on New Year's Day. TV? Really? But after experiencing a few January 1sts here, I get it now. New Year's television in Japan isn't just background noise while you nurse a hangover—it's a deeply ingrained cultural institution that brings families together, sparks nationwide conversations, and honestly, is kind of brilliant in how it captures the Japanese spirit.

Let me walk you through what's actually on TV during oshogatsu, what locals are really watching (and why), and how you can join in if you're spending New Year's in Japan.

The Hakone Ekiden: Japan's Most-Watched Sporting Event

If you're awake on January 2nd and 3rd (note: not January 1st—I'll get to that), you absolutely need to tune into the Hakone Ekiden. This is a university relay marathon that runs from Tokyo to Hakone and back, covering about 217 kilometers over two days. And when I say everyone watches this, I mean everyone. The viewership regularly hits 30% or higher—which for context, would make it one of the most-watched events in any country.

But here's what makes it fascinating from a local perspective: it's not professional athletes. These are university students, primarily from around 20 Tokyo-area universities, running their hearts out for school pride. The whole thing is organized by the Yomiuri Shimbun newspaper and has been running since 1920 (with a break during WWII).

What tourists don't realize is that the course goes right through regular streets. On January 2nd, the runners leave from Otemachi in central Tokyo, run through Tsurumi, Totsuka, Odawara, and climb up to Lake Ashi in Hakone—all on the Tokaido route (Old Route 1). If you're anywhere along this course, you'll see crowds of people cheering, and every TV in every shop will be showing the race.

The drama is incredibly real. I've seen runners collapse meters from the relay point, teams lose their lead in the final kilometers, and underdog universities pull off shocking upsets. There's this thing called the shudai (seeded position) that teams compete for, and office conversations in early January are dominated by discussions of which university's ace runner performed best.

Pro tip: If you want to watch it live, head to somewhere along the Tokaido Line. Tsurumi Station area gets packed, but you'll feel that collective energy that makes Japanese sporting events special. Just dress warmly—it's cold in early January, and you'll be standing outside for a while.

Kohaku Uta Gassen: The Show That Actually Airs on December 31st (But Everyone Talks About on January 1st)

Okay, technically this airs on December 31st from around 7:15 PM to 11:45 PM, but everyone discusses it on New Year's Day, so it counts as New Year's TV culture. Kohaku Uta Gassen, broadcast by NHK, is this massive music competition where popular artists are divided into Red Team (women) and White Team (men), and they perform throughout the evening.

This show has been running since 1951, and it's such a big deal that appearing on Kohaku is considered a career milestone for Japanese artists. I remember my Japanese colleague explaining that her family's New Year's Eve routine is: finish making osechi and toshikoshi soba around 6 PM, everyone baths, then gather in the living room to watch Kohaku while eating mandarin oranges (mikan) and waiting for midnight.

What's interesting from a local perspective is how Kohaku reflects what's been popular in Japanese entertainment that year. You'll see established enka singers (that's the traditional Japanese ballad style that your obaachan loves), the year's hit J-pop groups, and increasingly, more diverse acts. The 2022 show featured groups like SixTONES and Snow Man (Johnny's groups), plus Yuuri, who had a massive hit with "Dried Flower" (Dライ花).

The show ends right before midnight, and then everyone switches to watching the Joya no Kane (New Year's Eve bells) being rung at temples across Japan, particularly at Chion-in Temple in Kyoto. Then at midnight, chaos—everyone's messaging "Akemashite omedetou gozaimasu!" to everyone they know.

Here's the thing tourists miss: Kohaku isn't just a TV show. It's a shared cultural moment. On January 1st, when you're doing hatsumode (first shrine visit) or eating osechi with extended family, conversations inevitably turn to "Did you watch Kohaku? What did you think of so-and-so's performance?" It's social currency.

The New Year's Day Special Programming: Variety Shows, Drama Specials, and Why Everything Feels Different

January 1st itself has a completely different TV vibe. Regular programming is suspended, and instead, you get these elaborate special broadcasts that have clearly had massive budgets thrown at them.

One of the most popular formats is the "New Year's Wide Show" variety programs. These are typically 4-6 hour specials that mix comedy, games, celebrity appearances, and food segments. Think of shows like "New Year's Kakizome" where celebrities do calligraphy, or the various quiz shows where they pit comedians against each other in ridiculously elaborate setups.

There's also usually a special historical drama (taiga dorama) episode or preview. NHK's taiga dramas are year-long historical series that air every Sunday, and they always do something special for New Year's. If you're into Japanese history, these are actually worth watching—they have movie-level production values and feature top-tier actors.

What I find fascinating is how relaxed everything feels. The pacing is slower, there's more conversation, and it feels designed for families lounging around in their kotatsu, digesting osechi and ozoni while still in their pajamas. Because that's exactly what's happening in households across Japan.

My favorite discovery was the "Gaki no Tsukai" (Downtown no Gaki no Tsukai ya Arahende!!) New Year's Eve to New Year's Day special, which runs from about 6 PM on December 31st into the early morning of January 1st. It's this absolutely insane "No Laughing" batsu game where comedians try not to laugh while being put through increasingly ridiculous situations. It's become such a phenomenon that people have New Year's Eve parties specifically to watch it. You can feel the comedic sensibility that's distinctly Japanese—it's physical, it's about endurance and punishment (batsu), and it's weirdly wholesome despite being chaotic.

Why This All Matters: TV as Communal Ritual

Here's what took me years to understand: in a country where everyone goes back to their hometowns for New Year's, where businesses shut down from December 29th to January 3rd, and where the first few days of the year are spent with family doing traditional rituals—TV becomes the thing that connects everyone across the country.

When you're sitting in your apartment in Tokyo, or visiting your in-laws in Fukuoka, or stuck working a rare New Year's shift, seeing the same programs everyone else is watching creates this sense of shared experience. It's not so different from how the Emperor's New Year's address (broadcast on January 1st around 10 AM) serves as a national moment of unity.

The TV programming during oshogatsu also reflects Japanese values in interesting ways. The Hakone Ekiden emphasizes gaman (endurance), teamwork, and the importance of youth and education. Kohaku celebrates both tradition (enka) and modernity (pop music). The variety shows are fundamentally about bringing people together, laughing, and starting the year with lightheartedness.

There's also something practical about it: after days of intense preparation (cleaning the house for osoji, preparing osechi, sending nengajo), having these TV traditions means you can just... relax. You don't have to plan entertainment. Everyone knows what's on, and you can enjoy it together.

Practical Tips for Experiencing New Year's TV Culture

If you're in Japan during New Year's:

  • Don't make plans for the evenings of December 31st through January 3rd—this is when the major programming airs, and suggesting other activities might get you polite but firm refusals from Japanese friends
  • If you're invited to watch TV with someone, bring mikan (mandarin oranges) or wagashi (Japanese sweets)—it's the standard TV-watching snack during this period
  • You don't need cable or special equipment; these all air on regular broadcast TV (NHK for Kohaku, Nippon TV for Hakone Ekiden)
  • Check NHK Plus or TVer if you want to catch up on missed programming—some special shows are available for streaming

Understanding the schedule:

  • December 31st, evening: Kohaku Uta Gassen (NHK)
  • January 1st, morning: Emperor's New Year's address and various special programming
  • January 2nd: Hakone Ekiden (Day 1—Tokyo to Hakone)
  • January 3rd: Hakone Ekiden (Day 2—Hakone back to Tokyo)

Cost: All of this is free if you have a TV. Though technically, if you own a TV in Japan, you're supposed to pay the NHK subscription fee (around ¥1,225-2,450 per month depending on your contract), which is... a whole other conversation.

Social etiquette: If someone mentions a performance from Kohaku or a moment from the Ekiden, it's good conversational currency to have at least seen clips or know what they're referring to. Don't worry if you don't understand everything—even just showing interest will be appreciated.

The beauty of New Year's TV culture in Japan is that it's genuinely inclusive. You don't need to be Japanese, you don't need perfect language skills, and you don't need special access. Turn on your TV, grab some mochi, and you're participating in the same ritual as millions of other people across the country. That's pretty special, if you ask me.