Images of Japan

First Collage

Society at Peace

Most Japanese and foreigners appear to agree that when compared to other modern societies Japanese society is extraordinarily calm. The crimes that are regularly reported on Japan's national public radio more nearly resemble those broadcasted on local television in the US. Certainly the occasional super-crimes, like the poisonous gas attack on the Tôkyô subway system by AUM Shinri-kyô several years ago, are rare. Occasional racial riots, like those that break out in the inner-city ghettos of New York, Los Angeles, and Detroit, simply do not occur. Although available in Japanese film theatres, the high-profile cinematic violence propagated by US film producers throughout the world is not produced in Japan. Few Japanese are even aware that Japan is the world's second largest spender in military equipment and armed personnel. Certainly Japanese yakuza (Japan's Italian mafia) are well known and dangerous, but their violent crimes often transpire beneath the surface and their white collar crimes are punished in Japanese courts far away from public view. Of course, there are the noisy bôsôzoku (motorcycle gangs), who terrorize Japanese residential neighborhoods with their loud roar at 3:00 AM in the morining, but these motorized hellions are more a passing nuisance and a loud show of bravado, than a true threat to society. Domestic violence is commonplace, but not something that easily spills over into the public arena. In the end the most prevalent form of violence in Japan is what appears in Japanese manga (comic books) and animê (cinematic animation) where it is portrayed as something more imagined than real, and often heroic.

In short, provided one is not a high profile gaijin (foreigner) looking for action and can avoid the doorways to Japan's urban rail system in rush hour traffic, one is likely to find Japanese streets, railway platforms, and other public places relatively unthreatening.

Industrious Society

Most everyone will also agree that Japanese are an industrious people; many argue too industrious. The famed sarariman (Japanese salaried worker), who spends the better part of his waking life and even a part of his less conscious work hours at his place of employment, is hardly an exaggeration. The eight-to-five workday of North America, or the less than 40-hour work weeks that have become the norm in many parts of Europe, are generally not found in Japan. Overtime work that often spills into the weekend is for many Japanese the norm. Vacations more often consist of brief 1 or 2-day breaks that one excuses with personal exigencies, rather than long reprieves lasting for more than a week. Few Japanese ever use their entire vacation pay, and few Japanese appear to view time and money as a trade-off. The hours that one spends at work have much less to do with earning money than they have to do with living up to company and work-group standards. Of course, those who work harder would like to be paid more, but the amount they receive has much more to do with their in-company status than with the cultivation of a personal life-style outside of work. Although there is a trend among younger Japanese to reject their parent's dedication to the workplace, unless these youth are able to find employment with a foreign company, they are unlikely to escape the abundant social pressure placed upon them to conform to the rigors, security, and comfort of Japanese kaisha (Japanese company) "servitude".

Studious Society

With the exception of Japanese college and university students, who spend much of their student life involved in club activities, Japanese are forever preparing to pass examinations. Whether it be for entrance into the best schools and eventual employment in the best firms, promotion within one's own firm, or a special license to start one's own business upon retirement, one's social worth is forever being tested in an examination room.

Surely social advancement and personal recognition are not the only driving forces behind this mental pathos! Study is an important source of self-discipline, and schools are an important source of organized group activity.  Certainly there are Japanese who cultivate individual hobbies and interests, but one is much more likely to develop these interests while in attendance at a school than on one's own. Whether Japanese are "studying" to play tennis or "learning" how to swing a golf club,  arrange flowers, speak English, or sketch a building, the end result is often similar: participation in a regularly scheduled, organized activity, conducted by a sensei (a Japanese teacher). This penchant for organized group study not only reaffirms the Japanese need for group identity, but it also reinforces the senpai-kôhai (senior-junior) relationship that permeates all of Japanese society.

In Japan one spends little time reflecting on one's society, but much time participating in it. One goes to school to become involved -- not to reflect about one's life, one's society, and the world in which one lives. Intellectual stimulation in Japan is found in the detail of action and the resolution of problems with a fixed set of constraints. Only rarely does one reflect on the whole of life or challenge the status quo.

Orderly and Polite Society

There are not a few jokes about the Japanese penchant for order, and their ability to organize activity. Order in Japan extends far beyond the "senpai-kôhai" relationship and the need for group identification mentioned above.

In the early morning hours atop a train platform at Yokohama station, one can see line upon line of people standing in single file patiently waiting to board the next train. Although the places where these lines begin are well marked, there are no markings that direct those who form the lines how to align themselves. Nor is there anyone around to tell them. They are formed by force of habit and by following the lead of those who have just arrived before.

Twice a year no matter the weather conditions, Japanese school children engage in a phenomenon known as koromogae. During the autumn equinox children don coats and ties that they wear until the spring equinox, whereupon they are removed and not worn again until the next autumn equinox arrives six months later. This same phenomenon also occurs in the Japanese work place, but absent the rigor with which  it is practiced in the school yard. One might suppose this coordination of Japanese dress codes and heavenly body movements is an expression of Japanese oneness with the universe. Certainly it explains in part Japanese fascination with the weather. Afterall, one must somehow justify the need to wear a coat and tie on days when going to the beach is the only outdoor activity anyone prefers. As one scurries between the early morning shadows of high-rise office buildings with neither coat nor tie on a cold, windy, autumn day, one is also given cause to wonder. Surely it is one thing to celebrate the equal amounts of night and day that each spring and autumn equinox ushers in. Surely, it is another to swelter or shiver on the way to school or the office in rhythmic harmony with the the universe.

At cash registers and reception desks, in hotel lobbies and elevators, whether one is a bus driver or a conductor, the language employed by service attendants is extraordinarily similar. Moreover, the same phrases are repeated for each kokyaku or kyaku-san (Japanese words for customer). These phrases are often said with little thought of the individuals to whom they are addressed, but when they are not heard, the customer knows that he has been singled out and should think twice about what has just transpired.

In general one only does in Japan what others are already doing, or that for which one has received at least informal approval from a higher authority in advance. Otherwise, one puts at risk much time, energy and money, when those in charge suddenly pull the plug without warning. Always obtaining permission insures that no one is disturbed who is himself not subject to the same authority. In this way, no one is likely to enter a dispute for which an exit cannot be easily found -- namely, the intervention of a higher authority.

Foreigners often wonder why organizations like the yakuza (Japan's version of the Italian mafia) and bôsôzoku (Japanese motorcycle gangs) are permitted, if social order is so important in Japan. What they and many Japanese fail to understand is that  the yakuza play an important role in maintaining social order and that controlling the bôsôzoku would result in more disorder than what the bôsôzoku create. The yakuza have important political connections, and can apply immediate force on behalf of those who close one eye to their existence. Japan's wearisome judicial system makes achieving certain legal ends impractical; the yakuza offer convenient extra-legal work-arounds for legal remedies that cannot be achieved in a reasonable time frame through a Japanese court of law. The bôsôzoku on the other hand are formed in a rather ad hoc fashion and can disband on the spot. Moreover, they are difficult to track and as single users of the road do not violate the law. Chasing one could easily lead to an accident of far worse proportion. Controlling the large sound wagons employed by right wing political parties is very similar. Together the noise that they make exceeds legally sanctioned noise limits, but singly no one of them is in violation of municipal sound ordinances. Thus, they have only to disband when confronted by the law and no further action can be taken. Once the authorities disappear, they simply regroup.

Difficult Language

It appears that everyone agrees that Japanese is a difficult language. Indeed, when a native Japanese can stare for many seconds at the name of a place or person and still not come up with the correct pronunciation, there is something to be said for this claim. Since one rarely employs on a regular basis all of the people and place names of one's country, and since most of these names are generally easy to research when the need arises, not knowing the pronunication of a particular name rarely poses a major problem. Yes, the Japanese language does have numerous homonyms, and if one is not prepared to convey the same meaning in several different ways, the redundancy of sound can often lead to confusion. Fortunately, however, much of this confusion can be eliminated by learning to differentiate among those words employed in speech and those in writing. On the other hand, learning to read and write kanji (Sino-Japanese characters) with some degree of proficiency is an enormous task. It is said that riding a bicycle is a skill that once learned is never forgotten; this is not true of learning kanji, that are quickly forgotten if not repeatedly used. Surely, this can explain, well at least in part, why many Japanese are fond of writing "nenga-jô" (seasonal postcards) and are renown for the volume of written material they consume.

Although foreigners coming from countries where kanji are not employed find learning them a formidable task, Chinese come to Japan already half-literate in the Japanese language. This is because Japanese and Chinese kanji so closely resemble one another . Indeed the Chinese and Japanese characters for the word kanji are identical. Because the Korean and Japanese languages share a similar linguistic origin, Koreans have little trouble learning Japanese grammar and find much similarity in their two vocabularies.

Thus, one cannot, as so many Japanese do, make the statement that their language is more difficult to learn than others. Different aspects of each language pose a different set of obstacles for different speakers of other languages. Nevertheless, most foreigners do agree that Japanese is a difficult language, but not for the reasons given above. Though I will treat this problem in another section in much greater detail, let it be said for now that the biggest obstacle to foreigners learning Japanese has little to do with the language, rather it has to do with those who have made it their mother tongue -- the Japanese people!

Indeed, the one foreign people who finds Japanese easiest to learn, has been Japan's historical archenemy and closest neighbor for many centuries -- the Koreans.

Closed Society

What constitutes a closed society can mean different things to different people.

Many foreigners who make a serious effort to learn Japanese suffer from ample opportunity to practice their newly acquired knowledge. Japanese reluctance to speak with foreigners -- to say nothing of their own countrymen and -women, if not formally acquainted -- presents a formidable barrier to beginners and even many who are more advanced. Without someone to practice no one can learn to speak any language well.

Many Japanese are of the opinion that most foreigners cannot master Japanese, and as a result make little effort to teach it. Those Japanese who are willing to speak Japanese with foreigners are generally reluctant to correct them for fear of insulting them about their ignorance. Moreover, in the minds of many Japanese foreigners do not need to master Japanese in order to live in Japanese society, because Japanese have gone out of their way to learn English on their behalf. Unfortunately, few Japanese can speak English adequately to satisfy foreign needs, not every foreigner living in Japan can speak English, and foreigners who cannot speak Japanese are at the mercy of those few Japanese who can speak English well. Thus, many foreigners do not feel welcome in Japan.

Moreover, there are few Japanese who do not willingly point to their own national history with comments like "Japan is changing", when foreigners complain to them about the closed nature of their society. Thus, most Japanese are cognizant that a problem exists, even if they do not know what to do about it. Then too, there are other Japanese who deny that Japan is a closed society, point their fingers to other parts of the world, and tell foreigners that they should try harder. These people are often found in government and industry, where they have grown defensive from the overly critical attitude that many foreign businessmen and governments have made their habit. To the best of my knowledge everyone is to blame for this sorry set of circumstances, but Japanese can do little to remedy the problem by simply hitting the ball into the other's court. Certainly the argument that many of the structural barriers against which foreigners bang their heads are also barriers for Japanese. Of this there can be little doubt; but why must the rest of the world suffer on account of Japan? What would happen, for example, if the rest of the world suddenly closed its doors to Japan? Yes, things are slowly changing for the better, but I fear the rate of change is not rapid enough, and certainly the Japanese government cannot be held entirely responsible, the Japanese people play an important role in the heisateki (closedness) attitude of the Japanese nation. We will also return to this point later.