Romanisation of Passport Names for Kids Born Post-Naturalisation

For many people, their first official romanisation

Despite its widespread use in bilingual signage at stations, government buildings and facilities, etc., it can come as a surprise to learn that the latin alphabet is not actually used in Japan in any official capacity. What this means for native born citizens is that until they apply for either a passport or a credit card, there is no official way to render their names internationally.

A lack of official use does not mean a lack of guidelines though. When applying for a first passport, the guidelines state quite specifically that the name has to be rendered in strict accordance with the strictest interpretation of the Hepburn convention. And while the Hepburn convention for the most part does a perfectly decent job of presenting Japanese words in a way that English speakers in particular can pronounce almost recognisably, there are times when a little flexibility is desirable. For example, the "Ō" in 大澤 Ōsawa is pronounced differently from the "O" in 小澤 Ozawa, but a strict interpretation of Hepburn would render both simply as "O".

A more charitable interpretation would allow the first to be rendered as "Oh" or "Oo" depending on context so it's closer to the original pronunciation, and the passport guidelines have graciously conceded that this might sometimes be possible if you ask really nicely. In fact, they have a special box on the form for just such a circumstance—strict Hepburn goes in the main body of the application, alternative spelling for consideration goes on the back.

Of course, this is old news for anybody in an international marriage with a Japanese spouse, as openly acknowledged by the two examples the passport application guidelines actually provide:

• When an adult has taken the surname of their foreign national spouse (who is presumably from a country that uses the latin alphabet), the name as written in the passport may reflect the spelling of the name in its original language, rather than a strict romanisation of the legally registered katakana phonetic rendering of the same name.
• When a dual-national child has their birth registered in another country (presumably one that uses the latin alphabet) they may likewise have their names written in accordance with the foreign birth document, either in place of, or in addition to a strict romanisation of their Japanese name.

And though not mentioned specifically, naturalised citizens have also been known to take advantage of this if their Japanese name is based directly off of their former foreign name. In all instances, it states that documentary evidence such as a birth or marriage certificate must be provided.

So this leads us naturally to a slightly harder to read hypothetical scenario. What would be the rule when a naturalised citizen of a western country marries a native Japanese citizen, and they give their children western sounding Japanese names complete with a western spelling that foreign family members all use?

Legally, the child is Japanese only, and the kanji or kana name in their family records is their only "real" name—a birthday card does not have as much legal clout as you might imagine.

On the other hand though, a birthday card carries considerable social clout, because the name that you and the people in your life actually use is a defining part of your personal identity.

As the husband and father in that very specific hypothetical situation, I decided to find out the answer for myself earlier this month when we applied for a passport for our 17 month old daughter. To recap, I was a citizen for nearly a decade before she was born, and while her legal name is very clearly Japanese in origin, it also works as a western name, and all of my overseas family use a specific local spelling when referring to her.

When we filled out the front of the passport application, and had to render her name in strict Hepburn romanisation, we both let out a sigh—we didn't want that on her passport because it's just not her name, but we knew we may have no choice in the matter. Regardless, we put the preferred spelling in the box on the back of the form so we could at least say we tried, and headed for the passport office.

We also packed a couple of birthday cards from her British family, just in case...

At the preliminary paperwork check, the lady behind the counter's attention was drawn to the fact that despite our daughter being Japanese only, we had requested a somewhat alien rendering of her name. She mouthed the letters out to herself, and nodded with some vague satisfaction that it probably was pronounced the same in some other language. She looked up at me, then she looked at my daughter, then she looked back at me again and asked if that was how we usually spelt her name. We both nodded that we did, and I added that it's the spelling all my family use too—and that we have some birthday cards if she'd like to see them. She glanced at them disinterestedly, more likely to appease us than anything else, but accepted the form for processing nonetheless.

After a wait, our number was called and we proceeded to a different counter where a different lady went over the paperwork again. Noting the request for an alternative spelling, she checked the front of the form where it stated that she held no other nationality, and then checked the rear again; and like the first lady, she then looked up at me, looked at my daughter, and then looked at me again. She asked directly if our daughter had a second nationality, and we confirmed that she didn't. She then asked if we were sure that the name we requested is the one we want in the passport, because we can't change it later. We confirmed that we did, and that was the end of that part of the conversation.

One week later, we picked up the passport, and there was her name in all its non-Hepburn compliant anglicised glory.

My interpretation of the way the rules were applied is that although our daughter didn't satisfy the technical requirements to allow for a preferred spelling, it was clear from the circumstances of her birth (her apparent western lineage) that she fell within the scope of the intent of the guideline, which is most likely that of prioritising a valid personal identity over a legal identity in the event that there's some conflict between the two. That they allowed us to use the spelling we provided without any documentary evidence was surprising though, as it stated quite clearly in the guidelines the sort of proof that would be required. Most likely, the reasoning behind the requirement is so that they can verify for themselves that the form has been filled out correctly, because as we were told, mistakes can't be corrected later. This seems to be the case in quite a number of circumstances—many native Japanese are not comfortable using the alphabet and may not spot simple mistakes, so having guidelines in place as to the precise way their name should be written that can then be verified by passport office staff can be instrumental in preventing mishaps, but again, it was clear that this was not our situation.

But regardless of the reasons, this clear example of cold bureaucratised flexibility allowed us to get what we entirely reasonably wanted, and that's what matters.

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