Nihonjin-ron

Introduction

In his recent best selling book Trust: The Social Virtues and the Creation of Prosperity the Japanese-American author, Francis Fukuyama, talks about the "the spiritualization of economic life." and writes:

All human beings believe they have a certain inherent worth or dignity. When that worth is not recognized adequately by others, they feel anger: when they do not live up to others' evaluation, they feel shame; and when they are evaluated appropriately, they feel pride. The desire for recognition is an extraordinarily powerful part of the human psyche; the emotions of anger, pride, and shame are the basis of most political passions and motivate much that goes on in political life.... [W]hat usually passes as economic motivation [is] ... not a matter of rational desire but a manifestation of the desire for recognition. Natural wants and needs are few in number and rather easily satisfied, particularly in the context of a modern industrial economy. Our motivation in working and earning money is much more closely related to the recognition that such activity affords us, where money becomes a symbol not for material goods but for social status or recognition.¹

Neither is this notion of economic activity particularly new, nor was it made with special reference to Japan.² Nevertheless, it appears to capture much of the motivation for economic activity in Japan's postwar era.

In light of the war and the special relationship which Japan has shared with the United States since the war's end it seems unreasonable to view Japan's postwar economic success as simply that of another industrializing country seeking to establish itself among the world's economic elite. In addition, the recognition which Japan has received as the world's second largest industrial power has been fraught with ambiguity. Many unkind words have been leveled against the Japanese people and their government in the international press, and Japan's most important ally, the United States government, has become especially critical of Japan in recent years.

Though the purpose of this book is neither to justify this criticism, nor to apologize on behalf of the Japanese people, it does offer a plausible explanation as to how this criticism has arisen, and examine some of the ways in which the Japanese people can avoid it in the long term.

In his recent book entitled The Crisis of Global Capitalism George Soros attributes the strong oscillations of financial markets and the resulting instability which they produce to a perceptual gap on the part of those who participate in the markets and the underlying reality upon which those markets are based. He writes:

It is no exaggeration to say that the distinction between thinking and reality is necessary for rational thought. But beyond a certain point, the separation of thought and reality into independent categories runs into difficult[y]. Although it is desirable to separate statements and facts, it is not always possible. In situations that have thinking participants, the thoughts of these participants are part of the reality about which they have to think. It would be foolish not to distinguish between thinking and reality and to treat our view of the world as if it were the same as the world itself; but it is just as wrong to treat thinking and reality as if they were totally separate and independent. People's thinking plays a dual role; It is both a passive reflection of the reality they seek to understand and an active ingredient in shaping the events in which they participate.³

He later states in a similar vein that human beings sometime encounter conditions in which "participants' views are quite far removed from the way things really are and the two show no tendency to come closer together".⁴ Indeed, according to Soros these conditions can persist for long periods until at some critical juncture the gap closes and history crashes in. In other words, like "body and mind" reality and our perception of reality are both separate and one simultaneously. Because they are separate we can exist for long periods in a "false" world, as it were, fooled by our own misperception of what we believe to be "true" -- namely, reality itself. Nevertheless, because this latter and our perception of it are ultimately one, at some point they must come together. If this convergence is not complementary, then disruption of a catastrophic sort is likely to result. It is in this light that I have found an important source of potential disaster for both the Japanese people and other nations with whom the Japanese government and people maintain crucial foreign relations.

So just what is the nature of the cloud which hangs so ominously over Japan and obscures the thinking of Japanese vis-à-vis themselves and the world at large? It is nihonjin-ron -- an accumulated product of intellectual theory contrived by Japan's social, economic, political, and academic elite in an effort to focus Japan's postwar energy on economic reconstruction, reconstitute the pride of Japanese people in themselves after a devastating imperial defeat, restore Japan's international reputation abroad, and shield Japan against the occupation of an alien culture.

Rising from the shambles of imperial defeat to the world's second largest economic power with per capita income equaled or surpassed by few modern nations was an important historical and economic feat. In order to understand this success several factors must be taken into consideration among which the psychology of the Japanese people and the corresponding social conditions which prevailed at the war's end are one. The pain of war must have been great for many Japanese; notwithstanding, the regenerative power of humankind does not lie in the painful memories of older generations, rather in the innocence and vitality of their progeny.

By devoting their energy to the task of reconstruction on the one hand, and forfeiting control of foreign policy to the United States government on the other, Japan's postwar generations were able to put the war and their parents' fallen empire quickly behind them. Notwithstanding, the shame of defeat, betrayal of one's national leadership, the agonizing memories of wartime atrocities, the many hours of labor sacrificed in order to maintain Japan's war machinery, as well as the devastating economic setback of a nation whose citizens once prided themselves in their industrial and imperial prowess must have burned in the minds of many older Japanese. Although the older generations could drown their pain in the work of reconstruction, they could not hide from the difficult and humbling psychological task of making sense of their own mistaken past to their children. Somehow the mental and historical connection between what was, what was now, and what was yet to be, had to be made clear to their children and grand children. Obviously, the challenge with which younger Japanese were then confronted was enormous. This joint burden of instruction and reconstruction must have been especially great for a nation in which ancestor worship has always been an important part of its national ethos. Overcoming this burden must have been an important driving force behind the development of nihonjin-ron -- the body of theory and myth, which has given rise to the thundercloud which hangs over Japan, and makes it difficult for Japanese and the world to embrace each other fully.

In order to understand the thundercloud which hangs over Japan and develop a strategy to dissipate the potential destructive power which it represents one must have a fairly clear notion of the nature of nihonjin-ron and its corresponding manifestations in contemporary Japanese society.

Evidence for the presence of nihonjin-ron is present everywhere in Japan. One has only to talk to the many "gaijin" who have seen the majesty of Japan's thundercloud from afar and are now struggling to dwell under it from within. Of course, if you are Japanese and truly want to know the cloud under which you dwell, then you too must go abroad. Although brief periods overseas will show you the majestic beauty of your thunder cloud, and even fill you with a sense of pride that your home is located beneath it, they will not likely reveal the true darkness in which you dwell. Like someone, who has closed himself in a dark room and steps out into the sunlight, your eyes will take time to adjust before you can see clearly. Unfortunately, a few weeks or even months are hardly sufficient for this adjustment to occur. So let us imagine together while we are still under the shadow.

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¹ Francis Fukuyama. 1995. Trust: The Social Virtues and the Creation of Prosperity. New York: Free Press Paperbacks, pp. 358 -359. (text)
² Thorstein Veblen. 1899. The Theory of the Leisure Class: An Economic Study of Institutions.  New York: The Macmillan Company. (text)
³ George Soros. 1998. The Crisis of Global Capitalism, pp. 4-5. (text)
⁴ Ibid, p. 66. (text)