Japan's Dormant Accounts Hit a Record ¥169.4 Billion in One Year — and Families Never Claimed Most of It

Japan's Deposit Insurance Corporation (DICJ) has published its fiscal 2024 dormant-deposits figures: 169.4 billion yen — roughly $1.1 billion — in dormant bank deposits was transferred to the state-backed scheme in a single year, the largest annual amount since the Dormant Deposits Utilization Act took effect. Of that, 52.2 billion yen was paid back out to account holders who later came forward, and 5.0 billion yen was granted to public-interest programs. The running totals since the system began in 2019 are stark: around 7 million accounts fall dormant each year, and cumulative transfers have now reached roughly 765 billion yen — about $5 billion.

The numbers, from the Cabinet Office's September 2025 overview of the scheme and the DICJ's annual reports, make Japan the clearest natural experiment in what happens when money outlives the memory of where it is.

How much money went dormant in Japan in fiscal 2024?

The Cabinet Office's official figures (億円 = 100 million yen) for each year since the system began:

• FY2020: 1,408億円 transferred (¥140.8bn) — ¥18.8bn paid back — ¥7.6bn granted
• FY2021: 1,374億円 (¥137.4bn) — ¥25.2bn paid back — ¥8.7bn granted
• FY2022: 1,528億円 (¥152.8bn, 7.07 million accounts) — ¥35.0bn paid back — ¥9.3bn granted
• FY2023: 1,609億円 (¥160.9bn) — ¥45.6bn paid back — ¥4.5bn granted
• FY2024: 1,694億円 (¥169.4bn) — ¥52.2bn paid back — ¥5.0bn granted

Two trends matter. Transfers are climbing every year — the five-year total is roughly ¥765 billion (about $5 billion). And paybacks, while also rising, recover only about a third of each year's inflow. The rest accumulates in the system, funding social programs after the state has, in the law's own words, "exhausted its efforts to return the money."

What actually counts as a dormant account in Japan?

Under the Act (in force since January 2018), a deposit becomes dormant after 10 years without any transaction activity — no deposit, withdrawal, or balance confirmation initiated by the holder. Ordinary accounts, fixed deposits, and instalment savings all qualify; foreign-currency and certain special-purpose accounts are exempt.

The process is deliberately slow and protective. At the nine-year mark the bank must notify the account holder and publish a notice; the balance then transfers to the DICJ, which holds it in reserve. Crucially, the money is never confiscated: a depositor — or, after death, an heir who completes the bank's inheritance procedure — can reclaim the full principal plus interest at any time, with no deadline, simply by contacting the original financial institution. The Financial Services Agency's guidance to consumers is blunt: "You can still withdraw it from the financial institution where you held the account. There is no time limit."

Where does unclaimed dormant money go?

After the DICJ sets aside reserves for future repayments, the remainder flows to JANPIA (the Japan Network for Public Interest Activities), the sole nationally designated utilization organisation, which funds private groups working in three legislated areas: support for children and young people, support for people in hardship, and community revitalisation. By March 2024 cumulative grants had reached about ¥29 billion across 190 programs run by 126 fund-distribution organisations and 1,170 executing organisations, with a five-year target of roughly ¥30 billion for 2023–2027.

In other words, Japan has built a machine that turns forgotten money into social good. It is an admirable design — and it should be nobody's estate plan. The system exists for money whose owners never came back, and the single biggest reason owners never come back is that the people who would claim it did not know the account existed.

Who is most at risk of leaving dormant money behind?

The pattern is demographic and behavioural, not accidental. Accounts go dormant when people move house without updating their address (the nine-year warning letter then never arrives), when elderly savers keep passbook accounts their children have never heard of, and when someone dies without a map of their financial life. Japan's own 終活 (shukatsu) research points the same direction: the Let's Ending Note Survey 2026 found 43% of people in their 50s and 60s have started an ending note — meaning the majority have not — and the dominant motivation among those who have is precisely this: "so my family won't be left struggling."

Every economy has its version of the same leak: US states now hold a record ~$70 billion in unclaimed property, and the UK estimates £110 billion sits dormant across accounts, pensions and investments. Japan is simply the only country publishing the leak as a clean annual number.

What should families do to stay off this list?

The fix is not a search tool — it is a living inventory. Three habits keep a family's money findable: keep a complete register of every account, policy and debt, with institution names and where the documents live; review it yearly, closing or consolidating accounts you no longer use; and make the register reachable — a dormant-accounts search can only find money someone thinks to look for.

That is the problem WiseEnding's Family Vault is built to solve: one zero-knowledge vault holding your accounts, documents and wishes, with the Legacy Heartbeat releasing the map to the people you chose if — and only if — you can no longer hand it over yourself. Japan's ¥169.4 billion year is not a curiosity. It is what "we never got around to writing it down" looks like, measured.