Japanese Volitional Form and Making Suggestions

When a Japanese speaker reaches for the volitional

Listen to colleagues deciding where to eat and you will hear the volitional every few seconds. Sō shimashō, let us do that. Ikimashō ka, shall we go. Nani o tabeyō ka, what shall we eat. Despite the name, the form is not about willpower. It is the grammar of shared decisions: proposing an action, offering to do one, checking that everyone is ready, and stating what you yourself have half decided to do.

That is why it belongs to speaking practice rather than to a reading list. A learner who only knows ikitai desu can express wishes but cannot move a conversation forward. The volitional lets you steer: suggest a time, offer to carry the bag, propose the next step in a meeting. Tucked inside a longer pattern, it also tells people what you intend to do and describes the moment just before an action.

Forming mashō and the plain volitional

The polite volitional is the easiest form in the language: drop masu and add mashō. Ikimasu becomes ikimashō, tabemasu becomes tabemashō, shimasu becomes shimashō. Because it is built on the masu stem, it works identically for every verb class, and it is the only shape most learners need in the first year of speaking.

The plain volitional needs the verb class. For a godan verb, change the final u-row kana to its o-row partner and add u: ku becomes kō, mu becomes mō, su becomes sō, tsu becomes tō, u becomes ō, bu becomes bō, gu becomes gō, nu becomes nō, and ru becomes rō. For an ichidan verb, drop ru and add yō. The two irregulars are shiyō for suru and koyō for kuru. Watch the godan verbs that end in eru or iru, such as kaeru to return, hairu, and shiru: they take rō, not yō.

Mashō: the proposal that expects a yes

Mashō puts a shared action on the table and assumes the other person will agree. It is the form for a decision that has effectively been made: the meeting is over, so let us wrap up; you both know it is time to eat, so let us eat. Teachers open lessons with hajimemashō, and friends close a debate with sō shimashō. The reply is usually just as brief: hai, or sō shimashō echoed back.

The mistake learners make is using mashō as if it were a neutral invitation. Because it presumes agreement, it can land as slightly pushy when the other person has not yet said they are free, and it is not the right way to ask someone out for the first time. Save it for the moment after the idea has been welcomed, and for practical steps that nobody will object to.

Mashō ka: an offer or a check

Add ka and the proposal turns into a question, and the meaning splits according to who does the action. When the subject is I, mashō ka is an offer: mochimashō ka, shall I carry that; mado o akemashō ka, shall I open the window. When the subject is we, it checks that the other person is ready before you move: sorosoro ikimashō ka, shall we get going. Context and the verb usually make the subject obvious.

Offers get one of two replies. Onegai shimasu accepts, and daijōbu desu declines while thanking you for the thought. Learn both, because you will be on the receiving end as often as the offering one. With a question word in front, mashō ka becomes the standard way to consult a group: nani o shimashō ka, what shall we do; doko de aimashō ka, where shall we meet.

Compare the three shapes with one verb. Ikimashō decides: we are going. Ikimashō ka checks: are we ready to go. Ikimasen ka, in the next section, invites: would you like to go. The verb never changes, only the ending, and the ending decides how much room the other person has to say no.

Masen ka: the question that gives people room

For a first invitation, Japanese prefers a negative question. Issho ni tabemasen ka is not asking whether you fail to eat; it means would you like to eat together, and the negative is what makes it gentle, because it lets the other person decline without contradicting you. Put yokattara, if you like, in front and the invitation becomes softer still. This is the pattern for asking a classmate to lunch or a colleague to a weekend event.

Notice the usual sequence in a real exchange. The invitation is masen ka, the acceptance is zehi or ii desu ne, and only then does mashō appear to settle the details: jā, nichiyōbi ni ikimashō. Learners who open with mashō skip the step where the other person gets to choose.

Suggestion strength from a gentle question to a firm proposal

The last row is there because learners mix it up with the others. Ittara dō desu ka recommends that the listener do something, and it does not include you. It belongs to advice, alongside hō ga ii desu, not to invitations. Move up and down the other rows on purpose: a colleague you barely know gets a masen ka, a friend who has already said yes gets a mashō, and a friend dithering at the door gets ikō yo. The wrong row is rarely ungrammatical, but it changes how you come across.

Volitional plus to omou: stating your own intention

To say what you intend to do, put the plain volitional in front of to omoimasu or to omotte imasu. The plain form is required here even in a polite sentence, because the politeness lives at the end on omoimasu. Ikō to omotte imasu, I am thinking of going, sits between two neighbours that learners confuse it with. Ikitai desu only reports a wish and commits to nothing. Iku tsumori desu announces a plan already made. The volitional version says you have decided in your own mind but are open to how it turns out, which makes it the most natural way to talk about future plans in ordinary conversation.

The two verb endings differ slightly. To omoimasu suggests a decision made about now, so it suits answering a question on the spot. To omotte imasu describes an intention you have been holding for a while. When someone asks about your weekend or your career, omotte imasu is usually the shape you want.

Volitional plus to suru: about to do, and trying without success

The plain volitional followed by to suru describes the instant before an action. Dekakeyō to shita toki, just as I was about to leave, sets up a story in which something interrupts. In the present, to shite imasu means someone is in the act of trying: a baby trying to stand, a colleague trying to open a jammed door. In the past with ga, it reports an attempt that failed: akeyō to shimashita ga, akimasen deshita, I tried to open it, but it would not open.

That last use is the one to contrast with te mimasu. Akete mimashita means you opened it to see what would happen; the action was completed. Akeyō to shimashita means you made the attempt and the sentence usually goes on to say it did not work. Choose te miru for experiments and volitional plus to suru for effort, especially failed effort.

Why a bare volitional to your manager sounds wrong

The plain volitional is a decision announced out loud, and announcing decisions is not the junior person's role. Buchō, ikō is plainly rude. Less obviously, even the polite ikimashō can grate on a superior, because it still presumes their agreement and can sound as if you are organising them. Japanese handles this by shifting the decision to the other person. You ask whether they would care to, whether it would be acceptable, or how a proposal strikes them, and you let them produce the mashō.

For offers, keep mashō ka but humble the verb: otetsudai shimashō ka rather than tetsudaimashō ka, omochi shimashō ka rather than mochimashō ka. For proposals, use ikaga deshō ka or yoroshii deshō ka. The honorifics guide on this blog covers humble verbs in depth; the point here is that the volitional survives, wrapped in a question that leaves the choice with the senior person.

Read the pairs as swaps. Hirugohan o tabemashō becomes goissho ni ikaga desu ka. Raishū ni shimashō becomes raishū ni shite wa ikaga deshō ka. Hajimemashō becomes hajimete mo yoroshii deshō ka. In each case the senior person answers with the decision, often with a plain sō shimashō, and the hierarchy is respected without any awkwardness.

Accepting and deflecting a suggestion

Accepting is easy: ii desu ne, zehi, or yorokonde, followed by sō shimashō to confirm the plan. Declining takes more care, because a flat ikimasen answers the grammar and ignores the relationship. The native pattern is to show that you would have liked to, give a soft reason with the te-form or n desu ga, and trail off with chotto. The unfinished sentence is the refusal; the listener does not expect you to complete it.

Mata kondo onegai shimasu does real work. It tells the other person that the refusal is about the date, not about them, and that they are welcome to ask again. Without it, a Japanese listener may quietly conclude that you would rather not be invited.

The casual volitional: friends and your own head

Among friends the plain volitional replaces mashō, and ka replaces mashō ka. The same forms also run your inner monologue. Sorosoro neyō, I had better get to bed, is something a Japanese speaker says to nobody in particular, and it is one of the most natural places to practise the form without any register risk. All of the lines below are casual; use them with friends and with yourself, not with a teacher or a customer.