It Is Not an Extension of “Discipline”
The 2018 amendment to Japan’s Child Abuse Prevention Act made all corporal punishment, even when called “discipline,” fully illegal.
Whenever a tragic abuse death is reported on the news, television commentators close out the segment with the same solemn refrain.
“I’m raising kids myself, and parenting really is overwhelming. Don’t let yourself become an isolated parent — reach out for help.”
“When you’re cornered, anyone could end up doing this. It could be any of us tomorrow.”
On the surface, these sound like compassionate words for parents struggling to raise their children. Yet for those who survived the hell of abuse, something feels off — and often a sharp, instinctive rejection rises up in its place.
“Was what happened to me really something that ‘could happen to anyone’?” “Was my parent just a little overwhelmed too?”
If abuse is really just an extension of ordinary parenting, then the parent who hurt you was just “an ordinary parent” too. And the child who pushed that “ordinary parent” so far must have been a difficult, demanding child — namely, you. That is how survivors get pulled back into the maze of self-blame.
Today, let me clear up that misunderstanding. To say it plainly:
True abuse is not on the same continuum as ordinary parenting. Between the two there is no gradient. There is a decisive break — a wall that cannot be crossed.
This article draws a clear, fact-based line between two things the public tends to confuse: “an ordinary parent’s lapse” and “abuse.” By the end, it should click into place — what you went through was not “discipline,” not “tough love,” and not even “a misfortune that occurred in the middle of devoted parenting.” It was something else entirely — a phenomenon of a different order.
Chapter 1: What an “Ordinary Parent’s Lapse” Actually Is
Let me start with a definition that risks being misread. The acts listed below, in the essential sense of the word, are not what this blog calls “abuse.”
Slapping a cheek or shoving a child in a flash of anger.
Yelling at the top of one’s lungs, swept up in emotion.
Saying hurtful, comparing things between siblings, such as “You’re the older one, act like it” or “Even your little brother can do this.”
“No dinner for you!” — skipping a single meal as punishment, or the opposite, force-feeding the child.
“Hold on — aren’t those plenty abusive too?” some readers may protest. Indeed, current Japanese law would categorize them as “abuse,” and they are inappropriate behaviors that wound a child. I am not saying any of this is “fine.”
But the thing to notice about these acts is twofold: they are dialed back because the recipient is a child, and they are temporary.
For the purposes of this blog, I will deliberately treat these as “not abuse” and define them as “the kind of parental lapse that happens inside ordinary households, in ordinary parenting.”
Even an “ordinary parent” is human, not a saint.
Worn down from work, sleep-deprived, faced with a child who will not listen no matter what you say — the rein on your patience can snap. A hand goes out, harsh words spill out. Lapses like that do happen.
But there is a “decisive difference” that has to be made clear. When an ordinary parent has one of these lapses, a particular emotion comes with it — every single time.
That emotion is regret and self-blame.
An ordinary parent feels a deep “Oh no, what have I done…” after losing control and going too far.
The frightened look in the child’s eyes hits them. Their chest tightens. They replay what they just did, regret it, blame themselves, apologize, and try to make things right — reading the child a picture book, smoothing things over, performing small acts of atonement.
Why is an ordinary parent built with this brake to begin with? The answer lies in the emotional bond between parent and child. However depleted, however furious with the child, an ordinary parent simply cannot bring themselves to do things that trample on a child’s basic dignity.
In other words, an “ordinary parent’s lapse” is precisely that — a lapse, brief and temporary. Because the brake (self-blame) and the repair (care) always follow, it does not become a pattern.
Now look back at your own past. The treatment you received — does the word “temporary” apply to it? And more importantly, did you ever see your parent offer a heartfelt apology, or visibly struggle with what they had done?
If the answer is no, then what you went through was not a “lapse.” It was a runaway car with no brakes — in other words, “true abuse.”
With that in mind, let me lay out the differences between “an ordinary parent’s lapse” and “true abuse” side by side.
| Comparison | An ordinary parent’s “lapse” | “True abuse” |
|---|---|---|
| Nature of the act | Emotional outburst; brief loss of control | Continuous, persistent, deliberate |
| Regret / self-blame | Yes (“I shouldn’t have done that”) | None (no hesitation at all) |
| Repair | Yes (apology, care, holding the child) | None |
| Content of the act | Mild (slapping, shouting, etc.) | Strikes to vital areas, use of weapons, danger to life |
| Empathy | The child’s pain registers, and the parent stops | The child’s pain does not register — or is ignored, or enjoyed |
| Effect on the child | Hurt; trust shaken | The child’s existence is denied at its root |
Chapter 2: What “True Abuse” Looks Like
Real abuse is on an entirely different level from the “I just lost it for a second” lapses described above — there is a clear line between them. It is continuous, it is relentless, and above all else, it is abnormal.
For anyone with ordinary nerves — anyone with ordinary empathy — carrying out these acts is psychologically impossible. Why? Because partway through, the abuser themselves would start hurting.
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