迷惑
めいわく
meiwaku
= trouble, nuisance, annoyance, or inconvenience caused to other people
Meiwaku names the trouble you cause someone else — and in Japan, avoiding it is treated less like manners and more like a basic condition for living around other people. If Japanese social life has an operating system, meiwaku is the error message it’s designed to prevent.
迷惑 (meiwaku) describes trouble, annoyance, or inconvenience that lands on someone else because of your actions — it’s fundamentally about impact on others, not just a feeling of irritation. The core expression is 迷惑をかける (meiwaku o kakeru), literally (to place trouble onto someone), used constantly to describe anything from a loud phone call to a missed deadline that inconveniences a coworker. As a na-adjective, meiwaku na describes a person or thing that is a nuisance (meiwaku na hito, an annoying/troublesome person). As a noun it appears in compounds: 迷惑メール (meiwaku meeru, spam email), 迷惑行為 (meiwaku koui, nuisance behavior, used in signage about public conduct), and 迷惑駐車 (meiwaku chuusha, obstructive/illegal parking). The polite apology ご迷惑をおかけしました (go-meiwaku o okake shimashita, I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused) is one of the most common formal apology phrases in Japanese business and service contexts, appearing on everything from store apology notices to corporate press statements.
The collocation to memorize is 迷惑をかける (meiwaku o kakeru, to cause trouble/inconvenience for someone) — meiwaku almost never stands alone without this verb or a similar one attached. For formal apologies, learners should reach for ご迷惑をおかけして申し訳ありません (go-meiwaku o okakeshite moushiwake arimasen, I deeply apologize for the trouble caused), which is more polite than a bare sumimasen when real inconvenience occurred. Watch the grammar: as a na-adjective it takes na before a noun (meiwaku na denwa, an annoying/unwanted phone call), but as a noun it pairs with o kakeru or da. Don’t confuse meiwaku with simple personal annoyance (that’s closer to mukatsuku or iraira suru) — meiwaku specifically frames the annoyance as something imposed on other people, which is why it carries such social weight in Japan.
Everyday use
他の人に迷惑をかけたくないので、電車の中では静かにしています。
Hoka no hito ni meiwaku o kaketakunai node, densha no naka de wa shizuka ni shiteimasu.
I stay quiet on the train because I don’t want to cause trouble for other people.
Casual / Social Media
隣の部屋の人がうるさすぎて本当に迷惑。あと、迷惑メールも増えてきた気がする。
Tonari no heya no hito ga urusasugite hontou ni meiwaku. Ato, meiwaku meeru mo fuete kita ki ga suru.
The person next door is so loud it’s genuinely a nuisance. Also, I feel like I’ve been getting more spam emails lately.
Formal / Cultural context
この度はシステム障害により、皆様に大変ご迷惑をおかけしましたことを深くお詫び申し上げます。
Kono tabi wa shisutemu shougai ni yori, minasama ni taihen go-meiwaku o okake shimashita koto o fukaku owabi moushiagemasu.
We deeply apologize for the great inconvenience caused to everyone by this system outage.
From early childhood, Japanese kids hear a version of 人に迷惑をかけないようにしなさい (don’t cause trouble for other people) so often that it becomes close to a founding rule of social behavior, taught well before more abstract virtues. It’s less a specific instruction than a lens: before acting, especially in shared spaces, the instinctive check is whether this could become meiwaku for someone else nearby.
This shows up constantly in public etiquette: talking on the phone on a train is avoided because the sound is meiwaku to other passengers; luggage is arranged so it doesn’t block a walkway; even eating while walking is discouraged partly because it risks bumping into or bothering someone. Silent train cars, orderly queues, and hyper-attentive customer service in Japan all trace back to the same underlying logic — minimize the trouble your presence creates for people around you.
The concept carries a nuance that doesn’t map cleanly onto Western individualism: it isn’t primarily about being polite for politeness’s sake, but about a felt obligation not to impose your own circumstances onto someone else’s experience. This is also why meiwaku can feel heavier in Japan than (annoyance) does in English — a minor personal preference (wanting to talk loudly, taking up extra space) can be reframed as a moral lapse if it becomes someone else’s problem, which is part of why apologies like go-meiwaku o okakeshimashita are delivered with such visible seriousness.