Japanese Potential Form: One Ending, Three Jobs, Two Doers

The Japanese potential form doesn't add a word for can. It rebuilds the end of the verb instead, so 泳ぐおよぐ (oyogu), to swim, turns into 泳げるおよげる (oyogeru), can swim. One word, and the ability is already inside it.

That same ending holds two other jobs that look identical on the page, and here's why. られる (rareru) takes the doer's hands off the verb, so the sentence can say you're able to — or that somebody else did it to you. させる (saseru) runs the other way and sets a second pair of hands above yours.

Whose hands are on the verb? And where did the doer who left go — onto に (ni), or out of the sentence entirely?

One thing this isn't: a ninth tense. A verb has eight basic forms, and that grid of tense, negation and politeness belongs to the field note on verb conjugation. These endings sit outside that grid, and they don't say when something happened — they say who did it.

The Japanese potential form folds can into the verb itself. Each group reshapes its ending differently, and there are only three cases to know.

A godan verb — a u-verb — moves its final う (u) sound to the え (e) row and adds る (ru), so 弾くひく (hiku), to play an instrument, becomes 弾けるひける (hikeru). An ichidan verb, or ru-verb, drops る (ru) and adds られる (rareru): 受けるうける (ukeru) becomes 受けられるうけられる (ukerareru). The two irregulars are worth learning outright: する (suru) becomes the separate verb できる (dekiru), and 来るくる (kuru) becomes 来られるこられる (korareru). Sorting verbs into groups belongs to the field note on verb conjugation.

Whatever you started from, the result then behaves like a ru-verb — 弾けないひけない (hikenai), 弾けましたひけました (hikemashita).

The thing you're able to do normally takes が (ga) rather than を (wo), which follows from what the sentence is about. Nobody's hands are on the verb yet, so there's no action for を (wo) to point at — only an ability. を (wo) isn't an error, though, and you'll hear speakers use it freely.

Say a friend asks who else is coming to hear you play:

来月の発表会には、家族も来られますらいげつのはっぴょうかいには、かぞくもこられます (raigetsunohappyoukainiha,kazokumokoraremasu)

My family can come to next month's recital as well.

The potential is the first of four endings that all rewrite the doer, and here is 書くかく (kaku), to write, wearing each of them in turn.

For most verbs it doesn't — the overlap is real but narrow, and you can see exactly where it lands.

A u-verb builds the two forms on different rows: the potential on the え (e) row, the passive on the あ (a) row. 泳げるおよげる (oyogeru) is can swim, and 泳がれるおよがれる (oyogareru) is the passive. Two shapes, nothing to sort out.

Ru-verbs and 来るくる (kuru) are where the twins live. Both endings there are られる (rareru), so 食べられるたべられる (taberareru) says can eat and also says was eaten. Context settles it for you.

Say a studio advertises a trial lesson and you're checking whether you have to book:

体験レッスンは、予約なしでも受けられますたいけんレッスンは、よやくなしでもうけられます (taikenressunha,yoyakunashidemoukeraremasu)

You can take the trial lesson without booking.

That shape is also the passive of 受けるうける (ukeru). Nothing in the word says which arrived — the sentence around it does, and five verbs show the whole split.

One ら (ra) then goes missing in speech, and only on the can-do side. 食べられるたべられる (taberareru) becomes 食べれるたべれる (tabereru), and 来られるこられる (korareru) becomes 来れるこれる (koreru). Friends take it without a blink, while essays, exams and anything you say to a manager still want the ら (ra) in place. The passive keeps its ら (ra) everywhere, so a missing one is a clue in itself.

The slip that does happen runs the other way — the passive shape, reached for when ability was meant:

❌ まだ速く泳がれませんまだはやくおよがれません (madahayakuoyogaremasen) — the あ (a) row, which belongs to the passive

⭕ まだ速く泳げませんまだはやくおよげません (madahayakuoyogemasen) — the え (e) row, which is the can-do form

The Japanese passive form turns the verb around when the event happened to you rather than by you. The doer's hands come off the subject slot and reappear on に (ni), and you move into the slot they left, because the sentence is now about what landed on you.

A u-verb moves its final う (u) sound to the あ (a) row and adds れる (reru): 呼ぶよぶ (yobu) becomes 呼ばれるよばれる (yobareru). A verb ending in う (u) takes わ (wa), so 言ういう (iu) becomes 言われるいわれる (iwareru). A ru-verb swaps る (ru) for られる (rareru), する (suru) gives される (sareru), and 来るくる (kuru) gives 来られるこられる (korareru), and the result inflects like a ru-verb again.

Then Japanese does something English can't: a verb with no object at all can still be turned around, and the sentence says the event happened over your head. Rain falling on you is 降られるふられる (furareru). When the verb does have an object, the object keeps を (wo) and you take the subject slot.

That's why the passive so often comes with a shade of complaint. Not every time, though — ask who the sentence is really about. If the event would stand without you and you go first anyway, the speaker is saying it cost them something.

Say you'd been saving one slice of cake for the end of a long day:

楽しみにしていたケーキを弟に食べられましたたのしみにしていたケーキをおとうとにたべられました (tanoshiminishiteitakeekiwootoutonitaberaremashita)

My brother ate the cake I had been looking forward to.

The cake keeps を (wo). The brother arrives on に (ni). The person who minded holds the subject slot — which is the whole reason for choosing this form.

Sonkeigo raises what the other person does, and it arrives in three layers: a short list of special verbs, the frame お〜になる (o~ninaru), and the light ending れる (reru). The light one is where the collision happens. Add れる (reru) or られる (rareru) to a plain verb and you're speaking respectfully.

Nothing happened to that person here, and nobody is testing an ability. Their hands are still on the verb, doing the thing — the ending only lifts them a little.

Which layer suits which room is a question for the field note on politeness levels. What matters here is the shape. 見られるみられる (mirareru) is correct respectful Japanese, and it's the passive and the potential too, so a listener has to sort out which one arrived.

Say a colleague asks where the teacher went:

先生は先ほど出かけられましたせんせいはさきほどでかけられました (senseihasakihododekakeraremashita)

Sensei stepped out a short while ago.

Three sentences are enough to show how that sorting goes.

The Japanese causative form runs in the opposite direction. させる (saseru) doesn't take a doer out of the sentence — it sets a second pair of hands above the first. Somebody makes, or lets, somebody else do the thing.

A u-verb moves its final う (u) sound to the あ (a) row and adds せる (seru): 待つまつ (matsu) becomes 待たせるまたせる (mataseru), and 手伝うてつだう (tetsudau) becomes 手伝わせるてつだわせる (tetsudawaseru). A ru-verb swaps る (ru) for させる (saseru), while する (suru) becomes させる (saseru) and 来るくる (kuru) becomes 来させるこさせる (kosaseru).

One form holds two opposite things: making a person act, and allowing them to. Only the situation says which, so the ending itself is neutral. A parent who has a child tidy a room is imposing it, while a manager who sends a colleague home with a fever is granting it.

Now the particle, which is the part worth getting right: if the verb has no object of its own, the person you act on takes を (wo). If the verb already holds an object on を (wo), the person moves to に (ni). One sentence won't hold two を (wo).

Say the whole plan for a day off is opening the garden door:

休みの日は、猫を庭で自由に遊ばせていますやすみのひは、ねこをにわでじゆうにあそばせています (yasuminohiha,nekowoniwadejiyuuniasobaseteimasu)

On days off I let the cat run around the garden.

遊ぶあそぶ (asobu) has no object of its own, so the cat takes を (wo). Give the verb an object and the cat moves to に (ni). That's the slip almost everybody makes once:

❌ 子どもを野菜を食べさせますこどもをやさいをたべさせます (kodomowoyasaiwotabesasemasu)

⭕ 子どもに野菜を食べさせますこどもにやさいをたべさせます (kodomoniyasaiwotabesasemasu)

The vegetables already hold を (wo), so the child can't have it too. One more thing grows out of this form: させてください (sasetekudasai) asks the other person to let you do it.

Stack the two endings and you get させられる (saserareru). Somebody puts their hands above yours, and then yours come off as well, so what's left is the story of the person who had no say in it.

Build it in two moves. Make the させる (saseru) form, then run that through the passive — 書くかく (kaku) to 書かせるかかせる (kakaseru) to 書かせられるかかせられる (kakaserareru) — and whoever made you do it takes に (ni), exactly as in the passive.

U-verbs then shorten that mouthful in speech: 書かせられるかかせられる (kakaserareru) turns into 書かされるかかされる (kakasareru), and the same collapse gives 待たされるまたされる (matasareru) and 飲まされるのまされる (nomasareru). Two limits come attached. Verbs ending in す (su) are shut out, so 話させられるはなさせられる (hanasaserareru) has no shorter twin. Ru-verbs and the two irregulars have no short form at all.

It also arrives with a feeling already in it, and it's nearly always a complaint. One check before you reach for it. Could the sentence end on and would rather not have? If the doing was fine by you, a plain past tense tells the truth better.

Say an appointment ran an hour past its slot and nobody in the room was pleased:

動物病院で一時間も待たされて、猫がすっかり怒っていましたどうぶつびょういんでいちじかんもまたされて、ねこがすっかりおこっていました (doubutsubyouindeichijikanmomatasarete,nekogasukkariokotteimashita)

They kept us waiting a whole hour at the vet, and the cat was thoroughly cross about it.

These four endings sit next to each other on the N4 list, and the field note on that list is where the rest of the family lives.

So: four endings, one question. られる (rareru) takes the hands off the verb — which is why one shape says you can and also says it happened to you. させる (saseru) puts a pair above yours. させられる (saserareru) does both, in that order. One ending, three jobs, and one more doer than you started with.

Whose hands are on the verb? Ask that first, and the particles will tell you where the missing doer went.

Start from the group, then reshape the tail. A godan verb (u-verb) shifts its last う (u) sound onto the え (e) row and adds る (ru), so 泳ぐおよぐ (oyogu) gives 泳げるおよげる (oyogeru). An ichidan verb (ru-verb) trades る (ru) for られる (rareru), so 食べるたべる (taberu) gives 食べられるたべられる (taberareru). する (suru) gives できる (dekiru), and 来るくる (kuru) gives 来られるこられる (korareru). The result then inflects like a ru-verb — 泳げないおよげない (oyogenai), 泳げましたおよげました (oyogemashita).

They differ in who is doing the thing, and for most verbs they differ in shape as well. A u-verb sends the potential to the え (e) row and the passive to the あ (a) row, so 泳げるおよげる (oyogeru) and 泳がれるおよがれる (oyogareru) are two separate words. Ru-verbs and 来るくる (kuru) use られる (rareru) for both, which is why 食べられるたべられる (taberareru) covers can eat and was eaten at once. Read the particles when that happens: an ability puts が (ga) on the thing you can do, while a passive puts the person who did it on に (ni).

Use the potential form when you're talking. It's shorter, and it's far more common in speech than ことができる (kotogadekiru). The longer phrase isn't wrong — it's heavier, and that weight suits writing and notices instead.

が (ga) is the default. The thing you're able to do takes が (ga), because the sentence is about the ability rather than the action — 日本語が読めますにほんごがよめます (nihongogayomemasu), can read Japanese. を (wo) isn't an error either, and you'll hear plenty of speakers reach for it when the object sits away from the verb.

In conversation, yes. 食べれるたべれる (tabereru), 見れるみれる (mireru) and 来れるこれる (koreru) are ordinary among friends and pass unremarked. In writing, on an exam, or in anything said to a manager, put the ら (ra) back: 食べられるたべられる (taberareru), 見られるみられる (mirareru), 来られるこられる (korareru). The drop only happens to the can-do form — 見られるみられる (mirareru) has three readings, while 見れるみれる (mireru) has one.

Ukiyoe Japanese keeps three concept lessons on this ground — the potential form, the passive, and させる (saseru) — each laying out how every group builds it, with example sentences attached. The next られる (rareru) you meet then has somewhere to sit.

The endings themselves live in a drill. The Conjugation gym hands you a verb and a target form and waits for you to type it — て (te) form, ない (nai) form, potential and friends. Miss, and it names the pattern you reached for. One ending, three jobs, a second doer, and somewhere to put all of them to work.