Kiwi Zhang, a computer science student from China, was full of hope for his academic future in the United States – until his visa was revoked at the US border last week.

The first-year PhD student at a university in central US had just presented his research at a conference in Asia. He was returning to the US after a brief visit home when his American dream was abruptly cut short.

According to Zhang, he was detained at the border for 48 hours by US officials, who confiscated his phone and laptop, and searched his belongings. He said they questioned him about his ties to the Chinese Communist Party and meetings with friends while in China.

At the end of the interrogation, Zhang said he was deported and barred from the US for five years, on suspicion of having shared his research with the Chinese government – an allegation he denies. He is now back in China and mulling his next steps.

Now, many Chinese students studying in the US fear they could meet the same fate, after President Trump’s administration vowed on Wednesday to “aggressively revoke visas for Chinese students, including those with connections to the Chinese Communist Party or studying in critical fields.”

The announcement by Secretary of State Marco Rubio was brief and vaguely worded, but it sent shock waves through China, triggering widespread confusion, anxiety and fear among current and prospective students and their families, as well as strong opposition from Beijing.

Student chat groups lit up with messages of disbelief. Education consultants were flooded with panicked phone calls. Many students aired their frustration and anger on social media.

At a regular news conference Thursday, China’s foreign ministry accused the Trump administration of using ideology and national security as a “pretext” for the “politically motivated and discriminatory” move.

Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of young Chinese minds, drawn by the prestige of a world-class education and the allure of the American dream, found themselves facing a stark reality: the future they had worked so hard for now hangs in the balance, held hostage by the whims of a US administration that increasingly views them – and their homeland – as a threat.

“What strikes me is how tiny individuals are in the tide of history – career plans can collapse overnight,” said Joyce, who received an offer from her dream school, Harvard, to pursue a master’s degree in architecture.

Her visa from her undergraduate program in the US is still valid for another year, but she did not dare to return to China for the summer, worrying that she might be denied reentry at the US border.

“I can’t help wishing I’d grown up in a golden age of US-China relations,” she said.

Growing mistrust

For decades, China’s brightest minds have flocked to America, as their home country played catch-up with the world’s leading superpower. Until last year, Chinese students made up the largest group of international students in the US, contributing significantly to the economy and helping America maintain its competitive edge in scientific research and technological innovation.

But as strategic rivalry between the two nations intensifies, mistrust has deepened. Both sides have ramped up national security measures and grown more protective of their advanced technologies – particularly in sensitive sectors with military implications.

During his first term in 2020, Trump introduced a ban that effectively denied US visas to graduates in the science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) fields from Chinese universities believed to be linked to the military. Within just three months, more than 1,000 Chinese nationals had their visas revoked, and the order remained in place under former President Joe Biden.

They include David Yang, whose heart sank when he saw Rubio’s announcement. “This is just too surreal,” said the second-year PhD student in theoretical chemistry at a top university in the Midwestern US.

“When the news broke, some classmates said they were working on their final assignments but completely lost the motivation to continue. I felt the same way,” he said.

In recent weeks, Yang has found it nearly impossible to focus on his research, simulating how molecules interact with each other in the human body. Instead, he’s been glued to the news, anxiously tracking Trump’s escalating war on elite universities and international students, trying to gauge whether he might land in the crossfire.

Last week, the Trump administration barred Harvard University from enrolling international students, accusing the prestigious institution of “coordinating with the Chinese Communist Party,” among other allegations.

Although a federal court has since blocked the move, the State Department soon followed with a diplomatic cable instructing US embassies and consulates worldwide to halt new student visa appointments.

As Yang scrolled through the headlines, periods of anxiety would suddenly hit, and he found himself compulsively refreshing news sites over and over.

“I felt sad, lost and helpless. It’s been incredibly stressful,” he said. “The constant policy changes bring so much uncertainty into our lives. It really impacts productivity and, over time, takes a toll on your mental health – and for me, it already has.”

Worried about his visa, Yang is planning on canceling his trip home this winter. His major could well fall under what Rubio called “critical fields” and – like millions of Chinese students – he’s a member of the Communist Youth League, a youth branch of the 99-million-strong Communist Party for those aged between 14 and 28.

In China, most students are Youth League members by the time they finish high school, or have party members among family and friends – thanks to the party’s ubiquity across government and business, as well as cultural and social sectors.

“The vast majority of people in China have some connection to the Communist Party – so this is essentially the same as condemning all Chinese students with a single stroke,” Yang said.

Zhang, the student whose visa was revoked at the border, said US officials asked whether anyone in his family was a member of the Communist Party. He told them both of his parents were. They then questioned him about his own affiliation with the Communist Youth League, he said.

“I said I’ve never had any connection with them. The Communist Youth League charges us seven or eight yuan (about $1) a year, but there are no activities at all. But the officials said: ‘You are lying.’ I honestly didn’t know what to say. I could only sit there, stunned,” Zhang said.

Other alternatives

Facing potential deportation in the middle of their hard-won education, some Chinese students are considering other options.

Ella Liu, a math undergraduate at the University of Michigan, is visiting family in the southern city of Guangzhou before her summer research project in the US starts next month.

“Me and my parents are all praying that I won’t be banned from entering the country in June,” she said.

Liu was drawn to the US by its academic freedom and resources. But if the hardline visa policy continues, she might consider transferring to another university in Europe or Hong Kong.

“I am very determined to study mathematics and there are also many excellent math resources in other countries, such as in France,” she said.

Like many Chinese students, Liu comes from a middle-class family. Her parents saved for years for her to attend college in the US, where tuition and living costs can run to more than $80,000 – much more than getting a degree in Europe or Asia.

Some Chinese students are already looking elsewhere. In recent years, the number of Chinese students in the US has steadily declined from a peak in the 2019-2020 school year – a drop that coincides with the Covid-19 pandemic but also increasing friction between the two governments.

Nelson Urena Jr., co-founder and director of college counseling at an education management firm in Shanghai, said that for years many Chinese families saw American universities as the “gold standard” for college education.

Since around 2018, however, he has noticed more interest from students and parents alike in universities in the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia, as well as the semi-autonomous Chinese city of Hong Kong.

“A lot of families were concerned legitimately about their children’s safety, and then also just the rhetoric of, you know, whether they’re welcome in the US,” he said, citing issues such as gun violence and racist hostility or even violence against Asian people.

“More recently, I think people are starting to see the growing disconnect between the US and China, and feeling like maybe things are going to be more difficult for them – from getting the visa to making payments for tuitions.”

Rubio’s announcement Wednesday also vowed to “revise visa criteria to enhance scrutiny of all future visa applications” from China, including Hong Kong.

Since then, Urena has been inundated by phone calls from anxious students preparing to start their college education in the US. But he didn’t have a ready response for them.

“It’s just a lot of uncertainty right now. The students are trying to figure out what to do…The options are very limited at this point – Do they do a gap year? Do they go to university elsewhere? Do they have to go back to the application process?” he said.

Nevertheless, for some Chinese parents, the allure of American higher education has not worn off.

Arno Huang, a 56-year-old businessman from China’s coastal Fujian province, still wants to send his kids to the US for graduate schools after they finish undergraduate studies in Hong Kong.

“The US represents one of the most civilized, developed, and open places for humanity. Although US-China relations are currently strained, smart people still recognize this fact,” said Huang.

Having kids studying in the US gives a family “face,” he said, using a common Chinese phrase to refer to good reputation or social standing. “Once their child is in the US, they can proudly tell others, ‘Look how successful my son is!’”

Zichen Wang, a research fellow at the Center for China and Globalization, a non-government think tank in Beijing, lamented a seemingly bygone era, when Chinese officials, entrepreneurs and scientists alike were trained in the US – especially those who played key roles during China’s reform and opening-up era that began in 1978.

“When they returned to China, they brought back not only professional knowledge and credentials, but also a deep respect and admiration for America as an open and inclusive society,” he said.

“I believe many Chinese people see what makes America great not merely as its economic or military strength, but its openness – its world-class universities, its confidence in the marketplace of ideas, and its ability to attract top global talent,” Wang added.

“That, at least in my view, is what many people around the world truly admire about the United States.”

A year ago, Andry José Hernández Romero left Venezuela to seek a better future in the United States.

He wanted to continue growing his career as a makeup artist. He left behind his lifelong home in the little town of Capacho Nuevo, where he lived with his mother, father, and younger brother.

On May 23, 2024 – just two days after his 31st birthday – Andry left with the hope of one day opening a beauty salon in the US, or making a living from one of his other passions: design and tailoring. But all that hope has turned to anguish.

As of now, there is no certainty about what will happen to him or the rest of the detainees in the Terrorism Confinement Center (Cecot) prison.

“Please bring him back, it’s been two months of anguish. We can’t take it anymore. Please, put your hand on your heart and send him back. This anguish is eating us alive … I hope these people say, ‘Yes, he’s coming back.’ That they say something, anything, just a little thing,” pleads Alexis, 65.

Who is Andry José Hernández Romero?

Andry Hernández Romero turned 32 this Wednesday. He is from Capacho Nuevo, a town in the Venezuelan border state of Táchira that, according to official estimates, has fewer than 30,000 inhabitants. He is passionate about design, makeup, costume making, and acting. These artistic skills have made him well known in his hometown, where he has been an essential part of a local festival.

Since he was 7, Hernández has participated as an actor in the “Reyes Magos de Capacho” festival, which a few months ago celebrated its 108th anniversary and is a keystone cultural event in both Táchira and all of Venezuela.

In his teens and adult life, Hernández continued acting in the festival and also started making costumes and doing makeup for cast members. He studied Industrial Engineering up to the fifth semester at the Santiago Mariño Polytechnic in San Cristóbal, a private university in Táchira. Tuition increased every month, so “the work bug bit him” and he decided to drop out to focus on his career, his mother says.

Up until then, he had spent his whole life in Capacho, except for some trips to Bogotá, Colombia, and Caracas for work. And then came his trip to the US to seek asylum and grow professionally, a trip from which he has not yet returned.

Hernández has been far from home and out of contact for months in El Salvador’s Cecot after being deported by the US government for alleged links to the Venezuelan criminal gang Tren de Aragua, accusations his loved ones deny.

The US trip that became a nightmare

Andry Hernández Romero arrived in the US on August 29, 2024, specifically at the San Ysidro border crossing with Mexico, after leaving Venezuela a year earlier, according to Alexis Romero and Reina Cárdenas.

“He showed up for his CBP One appointment on August 29 and from that moment he was detained in a migration center” in the US, says Cárdenas.

The CBP One app, which was crucial for hundreds of thousands of immigrants to schedule appointments at ports of entry, was canceled last January by the Trump administration, which also canceled already scheduled appointments.

Reina says that, from the moment he arrived – still during the Biden administration – Andry was linked to the Tren de Aragua because of his tattoos: a crown on each wrist and a snake on his forearm. His is not the only case in which US authorities have associated these tattoos with the Venezuelan criminal gang.

When that happened, “we started sending all the evidence they asked for” to prove otherwise and so Andry could continue his asylum application, adds his childhood friend.

“They had nothing against him, no evidence,” says Reina Cárdenas. “We submitted everything they requested at the time for the investigation they were conducting, because from the moment he entered the country they linked him to the Tren de Aragua and it was only because of the tattoos. They had no other reason, never submitted any evidence, just the tattoos.”

Despite the circumstances, Cárdenas says Andry’s case was progressing favorably, according to their conversations with him while he was detained and with his legal defense.

“His asylum process, up to the last we saw, was favorable,” Reina says. “He passed the credible fear test. Everything was going very well. There were times when he wanted to be deported because of the time he’d spent locked up, and the lawyers and the judge handling his asylum told him his case was going well and to be patient, that he’d be admitted at any moment.”

While Hernández’s immigration case was ongoing, Trump’s second term began, along with a massive government campaign against illegal immigration. Last March, after more than half a year detained since arriving at San Ysidro, the young man was deported to El Salvador.

Deported under the Alien Enemies Act

Andry Hernández is one of hundreds of migrants who in mid-March were deported to Cecot – the mega-prison built by El Salvador to incarcerate “the worst of the worst,” according to the country’s president, Nayib Bukele – under the Alien Enemies Act, a wartime policy invoked by the Trump administration to expel alleged members of the Tren de Aragua.

The US government moved quickly to send hundreds of migrants, including Venezuelans, on flights to El Salvador, where they remain to this day, completely out of reach.

The 32-year-old Venezuelan migrant is part of a class-action lawsuit against the Trump administration. The suit argues that invoking the Alien Enemies Act is illegal and violates the constitutional due process rights of the immigrants involved.

“That invocation is patently unlawful: It violates the statutory terms of the (Alien Enemies Act); unlawfully bypasses the (Immigration and Naturalization Act); and infringes on noncitizens’ constitutional right to Due Process under the Fifth Amendment,” the lawsuit states.

Lee Gelernt, an attorney with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) handling the case, said the goal is for both Andry Hernández and the other Venezuelans in Cecot to have a fair process in the US.

The ACLU attorney also says they have not been able to communicate with any migrants in Cecot, so Andry Hernández and the other detainees have been unable to contact their families and loved ones for more than two months.

In May, the US Supreme Court ruled against President Donald Trump’s government resuming deportations under the Alien Enemies Act. The decision was a significant defeat for the president, who wants to use the law to speed up deportations and avoid the usual required reviews. However, it is a temporary measure, and the legal battle over the president’s invocation has continued in various courts.

Federal courts in Texas, Nevada, Colorado, and other states have issued orders blocking the use of the law, at least in the short term, while judges consider a series of lawsuits filed by targeted immigrants. Several courts have also issued more permanent orders, and a Trump-appointed judge in southern Texas ruled on May 2 that the president had illegally invoked the Alien Enemies Act.

Tattoos with a different meaning

The family of this Venezuelan say the tattoos that led to him being labeled a member of the Tren de Aragua have nothing to do with a gang and, rather, refer to the traditional Reyes Magos festival in his town. The crowns on his wrists are related to the Reyes Magos and are accompanied by the names of his mother and father, while the snake on his forearm refers to one of the roles he has played in the festival, says Reina Cárdenas.

Cárdenas and Romero say that Andry’s social media also does not prove the allegations that he is a member of the Tren de Aragua. On his Instagram profile, whose first post dates to 2015, there are hundreds of photos of his work as a makeup artist and costume designer.

Asylum process

His friend and mother say the young man chose to seek asylum in the US because of problems he had while working as a makeup artist at a Venezuelan government-affiliated TV network. They say he suffered harassment for being openly gay and had difficulties for political reasons.

Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro has previously spoken about the case of Venezuelans detained in El Salvador, calling the situation a kidnapping.

“I swear to you that we will rescue the 253 Venezuelans kidnapped in El Salvador, in concentration camps, as seen today,” Maduro said earlier this month during an event after the first video of the detainees at CECOT was released.

“Let’s demand that those young people who are kidnapped without trial, without the right to (appear before) a judge, without the right to defense, without having committed any crime, be released immediately. And we are ready to go get them on a Venezuelan plane and bring them back to their families,” the South American leader added.

In March, El Salvador agreed with the US to admit up to 300 immigrants sent by the Trump administration to be detained at Cecot after the invocation of the Alien Enemies Act, an unprecedented move. El Salvador would receive about $6 million from the US for taking in detainees at that prison, according to a renewable agreement between the two governments.

In April, El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele proposed to Maduro the exchange of people deported to his country and imprisoned in exchange for what he considers “political prisoners” of the Venezuelan government. Maduro responded by demanding that lawyers and family members be allowed access.

Support from the United States

Meanwhile, in the US, pressure continues for the release of Hernández and all detainees at Cecot. Margaret Cargioli, attorney at the Immigrant Defenders Law Center and legal adviser to Andry Hernández, said in early May that “due process matters” and that they will not stop until everyone is brought back to the US.

“One of the greatest forms of torture imposed by Cecot is isolating people from their loved ones: no visits, no contact, no communication,” Cargioli said at a joint event of advocacy groups and politicians. “For more than 50 days, Andry has been isolated from the outside world without due process. But due process matters. Immigrants matter. LGBTQ rights matter. Andry and all the missing men in El Salvador matter, and we won’t stop until we bring them back.”

For his part, Brad Hoylman-Sigal, Democratic state senator from New York, commented that what Andry and the other detainees are going through goes against American values.

“It is un-American to deport residents of this country without any kind of due process, and even more so to subject them to the conditions of a foreign prison without oversight or safety guarantees. Yet that is exactly what happened to Andry Hernández Romero, and hundreds of others, who were sent to the notoriously dangerous Cecot prison in El Salvador,” Hoylman-Sigal said at the event.

“Mr. Hernández Romero came to this country, as people have since its founding, in search of a better life after being persecuted for his sexuality in his home country, Venezuela. Today, New Yorkers gather to show our support for Mr. Hernández Romero, demand that he and all those unjustly deported by the Trump administration be brought home immediately, and call on New York City and the United States as a whole to remain the welcoming refuge for those in need that it once was,” he added.

Mexico is scheduled to hold its first-ever judicial elections on Sunday, with hundreds of judges, magistrates and justices on the ballot across the country.

It’s an unprecedented contest that supporters say will democratize the courts, but critics fear it could make them more susceptible to the influence of politicians or criminal groups.

Almost 900 federal positions will be in play, including all nine seats of the Supreme Court, as well as some 1,800 local positions in 19 states. Sunday’s event will be the first of two voting phases, with the second one set for 2027.

The vote is the result of a constitutional reform that was approved last year during the final weeks of Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s presidency. He had argued that the change was necessary to stem impunity in the courts and give voters a greater say in the judicial process.

But opponents saw the move as an attempt by López Obrador to strengthen the power of his ruling Morena party by overhauling the very judiciary that often blocked some of his policy proposals.

Critics also worry that by having judges elected through popular vote, the independent authority of the courts could be compromised, and with it, their ability to uphold the law and keep other powers in check at a time of rampant crime and corruption.

How the new system works

Before the reform was enacted, Supreme Court judges were nominated by the president and approved in the Senate, while federal judges were selected by a judicial commission using exams and coursework that evaluated candidates on a meritocratic basis.

In the new system, federal candidates will be elected by the public after being vetted and nominated by Evaluation Committees of the three branches of government.

Unlike other elections, those running for a judicial post can’t be nominated or supported by any political party, according to Mexico’s electoral authority. They also can’t receive public or private funding, meaning they must finance their campaign on their own – a rule that reform supporters say reduces the likelihood of being influenced by political actors, but critics say favors wealthier candidates.

Candidates are also prohibited from buying campaign ads on TV or radio, but they can promote themselves on social media or through interviews and other forums.

Once in office, elected judges will be evaluated by a newly established Judicial Disciplinary Tribunal, which will have the power to investigate and sanction judicial personnel, except for Supreme Court justices and electoral magistrates. Some of those sanctions include suspensions, financial penalties, dismissals and disqualifications.

Concerns of political capture

Although the rules prohibit political parties from providing direct support to a candidate, critics warn that they could still influence the race by encouraging voters to elect people aligned with their interests.

Local media have reported that some politicians and their supporters have been accused of distributing pamphlets, or cheat sheets, which provide suggestions on who to vote for.

Just days ahead of the election, the National Electoral Institute (INE) – which is organizing the vote – said it was investigating two complaints related to the use of such pamphlets.

“The law is very clear about who cannot intervene in this – neither governments of any level nor political parties,” INE adviser Claudia Zavala said in an interview with Milenio TV.

Another concern is that political parties could theoretically have a say in which candidates are nominated in the first place. If a single party holds sway over the three branches of government, which oversee the candidates’ nomination process, that party could influence who gets on the ballot.

“Right now, numerically, who holds the most influence over these branches of government – executive and legislative, specifically – would be the Morena party,” said Stephanie Brewer, director for Mexico at the Washington Office on Latin America.

There’s similar apprehension about the new Judicial Disciplinary Tribunal that’s meant to supervise judges in office. Brewer says that if political actors manage to influence it, they could subsequently exert pressure on the judges it oversees.

Impact of criminal groups

One of the biggest concerns rights groups are warning about is that elections could also be influenced by criminal groups.

In previous races, Mexican cartels have used violence to impact the outcome of a vote – often by attacking or assassinating candidates they oppose. Last year, the country saw a record number of victims from political-criminal violence, with Data Cívica, a human rights organization, reporting 661 attacks on people and facilities. Many of the victims either held or were running for municipal-level positions.

This year, the think tank México Evalúa warned that eight states have a high risk of political-criminal violence in the upcoming judicial elections, saying that it is “highly likely that, through violence, organized crime will seek to seize judicial powers, especially at the local level.”

Several political attacks have been recorded in the lead-up to the elections, though most of them involved candidates in mayoral races.

Miguel Meza of the rights groups Defensorxs says he has not yet seen any attacks against judicial candidates, but that other risks remain.

“Cartels (could) identify possible winners and offer them support in exchange for loyalty,” he said, noting that such actions have happened before, and although they haven’t seen it in this election, “in others, it could intensify.”

Defensorxs has also raised questions about some judicial candidates. While many have extensive experience in the judicial field, Defensorxs has determined that some are “linked to organized crime, sexual offenses, political-religious sects, and other irregularities.”

One of them served nearly six years in a US prison on drug offenses, after being accused of smuggling over 4 kilograms of methamphetamines, according to Reuters. That candidate said on Facebook that he faced an “unjust” judicial process and has “moved on.”

Another candidate was a defense attorney who joined the team that represented drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman in 2016, a decision she has defended by telling the AP, “Everyone has a right to an effective defense.”

Meza said his group has filed complaints to INE against some of those candidates but was told that electoral authorities couldn’t invalidate their candidacy at this point. If one of them ends up winning an election, Meza said, the group was told it could try to challenge the victory with the electoral tribunal.

Public opinion

A poll by Pew Research Center found that most Mexicans approve of the judicial reform.

Although the policy sparked protests in September when Congress was voting on it, 66% of people surveyed earlier this year said they backed it, with approval being higher among Morena supporters and younger adults.

Still, the judicial election faces heavy criticism from opposition groups.

Former President Vicente Fox of the PAN party has urged people not to vote on Sunday.

“The judicial election is not democratic. It’s a farce, it’s a hoax … Don’t go. Don’t waste your time,” he said on X.

Several civil organizations and opposition figures have indicated that they will boycott Sunday’s vote, and some have called for a nationwide protest on election day.

Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum has pushed back against those calls, urging Mexicans to participate in the electoral process and decide who will make up the judiciary.

“It’s better for millions of people to vote than for the president and the Senate of the Republic to decide,” she said.

If you go to Japan, there’s a chance you might meet someone with an unusual name – such as “Nike,” “Pikachu” or “Pudding.”

While still a minority, these names have grown in popularity over recent decades as parents reject traditional Japanese names for something more unique.

But the practice has also drawn criticism – mainly that it’s confusing for hospitals, schools and authorities who don’t know how to pronounce them.

Now the government is cracking down on these so-called “kirakira” names, which means sparkly or shiny. New rules came into effect on Monday that will limit parents from giving their babies names pronounced in unconventional ways.

The news was met with mixed reactions; some social media users argued that kirakira names are an expression of individualism, that they’re fairly harmless and don’t warrant government regulation.

“They’re not children of the nation, right? They’re children of their parents,” one person wrote on X after the announcement.

Many more, however, welcomed the change – lamenting that children with unusual names might face harassment, or at the very least complications in administrative tasks like registrations or banking.

“Why do certain people put kirakira names on their kids? It just causes those kids to be bullied,” one X user wrote. Another joked sarcastically: “Please stop restricting kirakira names. Seeing a child’s name reveals the intelligence of their parents, which is helpful.”

How ‘kirakira’ names work

Japan uses three writing systems – Kanji, which is based on Chinese characters, and two other phonetic systems. Names are typically written in Kanji, and this is where the trouble comes in.

Because these Chinese characters were mixed with the existing Japanese language, each Kanji character can be pronounced multiple ways – some with ten or more ways. You decipher the “right” pronunciation based on context clues and the other characters in a sentence or phrase.

In kirakira names, which became more popular from the 1980s onward, parents often choose a name based on the phonetic sound – wanting their child’s name to sound like “Pikachu,” for instance – and pick similar-sounding Kanji characters.

The problem is that those characters might not usually be pronounced that way – making it hard, or impossible, for a teacher or nurse to decipher how to properly say a child’s name just by looking at its written Kanji form.

Some have drawn parallels to how American parents have, increasingly in the past decade, chosen unusual spellings for common names – such as Ashleigh instead of Ashley, or Catelynn instead of Caitlin.

The Japanese government’s new rules aim to limit this by mandating that only widely accepted pronunciations of kanji characters will be allowed.

Parents will need to include the phonetic readings of their baby names in the registry – and if local officials see that the phonetic sound of a name doesn’t match how its characters are typically pronounced, they may reject the name or request additional paperwork.

The rise of unusual names

This is not the first time strict naming rules have sparked debate in Japan.

Japan still legally requires married couples to share the same surname, unlike most other major economies that have done away with the tradition. Normally, wives take their husband’s name, since same-sex marriages aren’t legal in Japan.

A movement to change the rules around surnames has been brewing, led by women’s rights advocates and those trying to preserve the diversity of Japanese surnames in a nation where a handful of names are becoming increasingly common.

First names have afforded more room for experimentation – at least, until the latest rules came in.

More and more people have been given unusual names in the last 40 years, according to a 2022 study that analyzed baby names published in local newsletters over the last few decades.

The trend suggests a shift toward seeking “uniqueness and independence” in Japan, the study said – also seen in changes to other parts of Japanese life during that time like family structures and societal values.

Girls in particular saw an increase in kirakira names, it added – perhaps suggesting that parents had a stronger “hope for their daughters to become unique and independent than for their sons.”

Japan isn’t the only country that has seen an upward trend in unusual baby names. A 2016 study found that American parents picked more unusual names between 2004 and 2015, pointing to the culture’s “increasing individualism.”

In China, too, rapid economic growth and upward mobility have meant people today value individualism and autonomy more than previous generations, according to a 2018 study – reflected in the steady rise of parents choosing unique characters in their babies’ names.

Like in Japan, the study found that Chinese girls were more likely to have unusual names than boys – perhaps reflecting different “parental expectations.”

But it’s also common for countries to have rules in place for what names are acceptable. In the US, this is often state-by-state; names in California can only use the 26 alphabetical characters of the English language, which briefly posed a problem when Elon Musk and Grimes named their baby “X Æ A-12.” They eventually changed the name – very slightly – to “X Æ A-Xii.”

In Germany, authorities may strike down a baby name if they find it offensive or potentially harmful to the child’s best interests. For example, they’ve previously barred parents from using “Borussia,” a reference to a soccer team, or “Gastritis,” arguing that the names would “jeopardize the welfare of the child,” according to the official Frankfurt city administration.

Meanwhile New Zealand also maintains strict rules that include bans on references to titles, meaning names like “King” and “Prince” are routinely rejected.