A Dangerous Mind? Confessions of a Fan Boy

by Patrick W. Galbraith TOKYO - The end of the "economic bubble" in Japan in the 1990s brought with it some major changes for Japan. Recently business practices decades old have been scraped in an attempt to rejuvenate the stagnant, even recessive, economy. The result is the opening of new business ventures and competition. Still, social constraints make change a difficult process. For example, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find young people to fill entry-level jobs at non-established firms rather than major corporations. Today Japan faces an anemic birth rate of just 1.38 children born per couple. There are many reasons why Japanese are having less children: increasingly complex lifestyles, women wanting to do more with their lives before having children and the high costs of raising a child in Japan. Unlike the U.S., Japan doesn't have a large inflow of immigrants to take up the slack, which is why there are more Japanese over age 60 than under age 18. A big part of the birthrate problem seems related to the lack of sex drive in married couples, who find themselves perfectly happy to forgo sex in their married lives, causing the coining of the term "sekkusuresu" (sexless) in the Japanese language. Evidence of this can be seen in the high number of homes being built with separate main bedrooms so that married couples can sleep apart. Nonetheless, one of the biggest changes to come to Japan in the past decade or so is the birth of actual competition. In the "old Japan" of the bubble years, Japanese businesses engaged in "cooperative competition" with each other, basically offering exactly the same service at the same price as their competitors. Banks were one classic area of cooperative competition. They always provided the very same services and no bank did anything the others wouldn't be willing to do. In short, they competed by trying to act as much like their competitors as possible. But things have changed and their is now choice. Banks have seen the advent of Internet-based branches, foreign banks that offer accounts in dollars or euros, the slow acceptance of personal checks, credit cards and so on. On the other hand, one of the major difficulties facing Japan's economic future is a lack of entrepreneurial spirit. The number of new businesses fewer than 42 months old is just two percent compared to 12 percent in China and 14 percent in Korea. The reason for this is that until recently you were required to have $30,000 in the bank to start a limited-liability business and $100,000 for a stock corporation. This was believed to help inspire trust among patrons by establishing fiscal solvency from the start. What it really did was ensure that only the seated elite and zaibatsu-esque corporations and their subsidiaries could have businesses as not many people have $30,000 in cash on hand. And loans? Forget it. Japanese banks don't function in the same capacity as US counterparts, even today. The risk involved in private loans is considered too high by the strained banking and investment system and there is very little capital for ventures. Private loan sharks are another matter, and as the economy recedes these "easy money" lenders expand to offer cash-strapped youth, college students or families needing a little extra loans at extremely high rates. But the government is taking steps to make it easier to run a start up venture. People can now start a business with just one yen in the bank, though many are still hesitant because declaring bankruptcy means prohibition from going overseas for 10 years, no questions asked. Pro-capitalist economic reforms are the work of Prime Minister Koizumi Jun`ichiro, the leader of the Liberal Democratic Party that has been in power since the beginning of the post-war era. Recently the largest opposition party, the Democratic Party, has been gaining popularity as people show their disapproval at the deployment of the Japanese Self-Defense Force to Iraq, explicitly forbidden by the constitution of General Douglas MacArthur. Ironically, however, it has been the US and United Nations pressuring Japan to take a more active role militarily in world affairs for some time now. The LDP is also suffering backlash for the continued malaise in the economy. Nonetheless Koizumi`s LDP maintains their hold on the Diet by an alliance with the Komeito, a political party that was started by the Sokka Gakkai religion, a modern flavor of Buddhism not unlike Mormonism. Losing support has been a big blow for Koizumi, who is beginning to turn the economy around. According to many analysts a big part of the Prime Minister's problem is that he is too charismatic for his own good. There's a famous saying in Japan, "deru kui wa utareru," or "the standing nail is driven," which means that individuals who stand out too much are hammered back into the ranks enforced by "hito no me" (the eyes of others) and the all powerful "joshiki" (Japanese "common sense," or the majority will). Koizumi, who is tall, unmarried and likes rock music is probably the closest thing to JFK Japan may have ever had. Because he literally stands head and shoulders above the competition - something you are not supposed to do in a country where 80 percent of people profess to be middle class - he presents a big political target for his peers. Side bar: A bastion of inefficiency is the Japanese post office. But this might be changing soon as Koizumi pushes for privatizing Japan's behemoth postal system. The Japanese post office does more than just deliver mail and sell stamps: they also operate as the worlds largest bank, holding $3.2 trillion in cash deposits for individuals at a whopping 0.02 rate of return and also sell government-backed insurance. The post office operates 25,000 branches throughout the country, offering various local services and providing a place for elderly people to gather and talk. To call the system gluttonous would be kind, and waste is the name of the game in this system. News programs constanly point out these practices, but there is little hope of fixing them immediately. There's a lot of opposition to the reform plans from Japan's one million postal employees, who fear losing jobs, and from rural areas which depend on postal services.

by Patrick W. Galbraith TOKYO - Sometimes the ironies of life are rich; other times, tragic. But no place is perhaps so complicated this way as contemporary Japan. Japan can be a very complex place, presenting many conflicting faces at the same time. While it's true that the country is a peaceful, wealthy nation with lots to offer anyone who lives here, the other side of the coin is that many Japanese can't handle the more oppressive elements of society and decide to take their lives. There are around 30,000 suicides a year in Japan, the same number as in the U.S. despite the fact that Japan has half the U.S.`s population. Tokyoites know when the trains stop due to an "injury accident" it really means that someone decided to end it all by jumping in front of an oncoming train. All too often, they choose as their final resting place a forest at the foot of Mt. Fuji with the dubious honor of being Japan's most popular suicide spot. It's called Aokigahara Jukai, a "sea of trees" that lies near the various picturesque lakes that dot the Fuji area. Every year police and firefighters do a sweep of the forest to find anywhere from 50-100 bodies inside, a number which acts as a bellweather for the general emotional health of Japan as a nation. Part of the problem is news coverage - as reporting on the number of suicides in the area increases, more and more people are drawn there. Aokigahara Forest is dangerous for other reasons too: mineral deposits in the ground cause magnetic compasses to stop working, which can trap hikers inside, and strange air currents have caused plane crashes, too. Those who take their lives in Japan fall into several broad groups, such as middle-aged salarymen who face the embarrassment of "risutora" (layoffs, from the English word "restructure"), young students who can't endure the social pressures of Japanese school life and business owners drowning in debt. Most recently, however, young people are forming "suicide pacts" and doing away with their lives in groups, presumably because they're too scared to die alone. One such group grabbed national headlines this month when they traveled to the mountains and killed themselves. They met on a "suicide Web site," now a very hot issue. Part of the problem is that counseling and use of drugs to help people in distress are all but non-existent in Japan, and when someone has a problem, they don't know where to turn for help. Death is always a tragedy, but in Japan as elsewhere selling it is sometimes also a major commodity. The Japanese are the longest-lived race in the world, or the second depending on the study. The reason is certainly not the overly bureaucratic healthcare system that stresses seniority and often-inherited position. Nor is it purely healthy living. Smoking is rampantly popular in Japan as a whole, more so than even the US. National surveys show 60 percent of all men and a comparable number of women smoke. Unlike the US where smokers are urged to quit to preserve their health, Japan doesn’t have a problem allowing smoking to generate massive sin-tax revenue. For many years the Japanese government operated Japan’s largest tobacco company, Japan Tobacco, and although the company has since been privatized it retains a semi-official status. There just isn’t much pressure at present for smoking to go away. Even the so-called warning label printed on cigarettes in Japan is a joke. It reads: "Because there is concern that it will damage your health, please be careful do not smoke too much." Also, as a rule the general public isn’t as sensitive about it. It is not at all uncommon for restaurants not to have a non-smoking section, and the Japanese just deal with that as a matter of course. Such silently suffering patience ("gaman suru") is seen as a virtue here. Every culture has different standards of rude and acceptable behavior. In Japan you take your shoes off when you enter a house and even some businesses. Never stick your chopsticks upright in your rice, since this is "only for dead people" (chopsticks are placed standing upright in rice as part of a last offering of rice to the departed at Buddhist funerals) and makes people uncomfortable. The average "man on the street" in Japan, or at least Tokyo, is more open than Americans are about discussing topics such as menstruation or masturbation. Accidental flatulence is not nearly as rude in Japan as it is in the U.S. Staring and pointing also are not terribly frowned on. But smoking in front of children or in crowded, very poorly ventilated areas is not an issue. Consequently, as tobacco companies have run into barriers selling their products in the U.S., they’ve increased their overall presence in Japan. All the U.S. brands are well known here, and though it is illegal to advertise on TV, it is not at all restricted in theaters or the like. Change, it seems, is necessary, and some groups have been working on public ad campaigns to turn the tendency of Japanese smoking around. But others seem unwilling to accept change. Along the same lines, the Japanese nearly without exception are enthralled by colored irises in eyes, wondering if "gaikokujin" (the politically correct way to say "foreigner," literally meaning "outside country person") see things in a different tint. The reason for their interest is that the Japanese all have brown eyes. But if this is ever pointed out, everyone will without fail correct you in a hurry: the Japanese have black eyes. Looking strait at a mirror people will stubbornly say their brown eyes are black. It is a phenomenon defying reason. Similar is the mythic "blue light" ("aoi"). Though the same as every other street light in the world, the Japanese stubbornly insist the green "go" sign in traffic is in fact blue. The same logic must apply to smoking in public on the pretext that it "hurts no one," the common defense for lighting up outside the entrance to a train station or in a coffee shop.

by Patrick W. Galbraith TOKYO - Japanese has got to be one of the most vague, nuance-filled languages that exist in the world. For example, there are no fewer than three words for heart: shinzo (the organ), haato (the English phonetically sounded-out word used for expressing an emotion, a favorite of pop-idols) and kokoro (the philosophical center of a person, meaning mind, heart and soul in different contexts). Hot to the touch and warm temperature aren’t the same and neither are the cold corespondents. Similarly, water is "mizu," but "oyuu" is hot water, and they are under no circumstances the same word. Confusing the two gets gaijin (foreigners) a knowing smile of their ignorance and a chortle at their "kawaii" (cute) Japanese. It is quite emasculating. Japanese is closely related to Korean, but shares close characteristics and features of Turkish, Hungarian and Basque. It’s very common to omit the noun when it’s known - or assumed to be known, a source of tremendous headache - and on top of that other parts of sentences are dropped for convenience sake. "Iku," simply "go," means "Shall we go to lunch now?" when said around noon. The word "chotto" for "a little" can be used contextually all over God’s green earth, but the nuance in certain situations such as liking food means "no" in a polite way. "Ii" for "good" can mean both "no, I’m fine" and "yes I`d like some more" when asked if you’d like seconds at the table. One word, two opposite meanings; do the math. That is largely why the Japanese are so fond of English, which is seen as far more direct and assertive as well as conveys a certain cosmopolitan nature (as French does in the US) and cute style in songs and such. Perhaps that is why "Japanlish" is so pervasive here in words like "sarariman" for any white-collar workers and "open car" for convertibles. Any English word can and is adopted by companies as product names. A few choice examples are the Sharp "Fappy," the fax machine that makes you happy, and Suzuki`s "Joy Pop Every Wagon." Of course it goes the other way too, like the word "tycoon," originally "taikun," the foreigners` name for the shogun in the Edo Period (1604-1868); "honcho" is actually the Japanese "hancho," the leader of a elementary on grade school group walking to school, typically the oldest and most responsible; "habachi" is a traditional Japanese firepit in the floor of a home; and so on. But despite these "zinger" names and English titles, there is as little English in daily use here as French is spoken in the U.S. Japanese education has compulsory English training from grade school to college, but almost no ordinary Japanese speaks English because they are too embarrassed by their pronunciations. There is no difference between "r" and "l" in Japanese, no "v" or "b" differential, etc. Because the language is a syllabury consisting solely of constant-vowel combinations (except for "n" and "tsu"), a word like dog comes out as "dogu." Despite having searing opinions on U.S. politics, most Japanese absolutely refused to speak about it in public. Not because it might offend a gaijin with unknown beliefs, but because they can’t say "election" without turning red, or other such reasons. Most Japanese will insist they know no English whatsoever despite their schooling. That does not stand up for language majors in universities, however, who are all too willing to debate anything one might desire in English, German or whatever is your tongue of choice. One of the most vocal has to be the Joiuchi Daigaku-Yotsuya campus, renowned though out Japan for its language courses. Graduates are in high demand as interpreters in every venue from movie subtitling to politics. The women, that is. Because studies show the female mind is naturally more adept at learning language, graduates of the fairer sex are seen as highly trained and invariably get good jobs. The men, not so much. They are seen as second rate for not going to one of the even better schools such as Keio, Waseda, Tokyo University or Kyoto University. Just another example of Japanese double standards for the genders. On the surface Japan is definitely a "man’s paradise" where men are able to lead in just about every aspect of life from work to politics. Sexism is light years behind the U.S. and the draconian image of a boss asking his female coworker to get him a cup of coffee is standard operating procedure, as are ass grabbing and lewd requests, though generally said in jest. Although there are laws against sexual discrimination and "seku-hara" (sexual harassment) in the workplace, they seem ineffectual at best and the glass ceiling is much more visible here. Even the Japanese language itself is coded for submissive "female" words and phrases and other, "masculine" terminology. Another example of the male-dominate ethos was the lightning-fast approval of Pfizer’s pill-form stimulants for men. The Diet is comprised almost entirely of the target market, after all. What about birth control pills? Although available for 30 years in the West, the drugs remained illegal to dispense until several months after Viagra was admitted when lawmakers sheepishly admitted the double standard and allowed its sale. This may seem a repressive atmosphere for women. But as Iwao Sumiko, one of Japan’s leading female scholars trained in the West, has pointed out so eloquently in her many books, though Japanese women have consciously chosen not to embrace Western-style feminism, they are certainly not lacking for control. Most households have the women running affairs right down to the financial accounts and dispersing money to their husbands in order to ensure the happiness of the family, a tradition dating back to Edo. Countless other such "counter culture" example also abide despite government stereotypes such as the Onna Daigaku or restricting phrases like "Ryosai kenbo" (good wife, wise mother). And, as Iwao states, while men work themselves to death at dead-end jobs without seeing their families or having time for life, women enjoy almost complete freedom socially and economically thanks to their male providers. She even sees them as worker bees, at points. This led Iwao to make a reversal on a famous Meiji chauvinistic phrase, changing it to "dansei joi, josei yui" (men dominant, women superior). Isn’t language fun?

by Patrick W. Galbraith TOKYO - This has been a hallmark year for natural disasters in Japan. While hurricanes raked Florida and Mt. St. Helens threatened Washington, the largest number of typhoons in recorded history grabbed headlines in Japan along with a magnitude 6.5 earthquake in Niigata Prefecture and the eruption of Mt. Asama. Japan has suffered 24 typhoons this year and lost numerous people in the cumulative effect. The standout was Typhoon 23, the most destructive to hit Japan in more than a decade. It killed at least 81 people and destroyed hundreds of homes in southwestern Japan, most especially the southern islands of Okinawa, Kyushu and Shikoku. However, Japan's main island of Honshu did not escape unscathed. During Typhoon 23 rivers in Kyoto, the old capital, swelled so much that water literally swamped areas of the city. A bus filled with aging Japanese tourists was nearly submerged, forcing passengers to scramble on to the roof and wait nearly seven hours in the pouring rain and blistering wind for rescue. Typhoon season in Japan lasts from August until the end of September, but Typhoon 24 soaked the archipelago near the end of October. Three days after the destruction of Typhoon 23, a massive earthquake struck and nearly tore the Kansai region to pieces. The 6.5-magnitude Niigata Prefecture quake of October 23 was Japan's worst since the 1995 quake in Kobe. The preliminary death toll was 31 with at least 1,000 others injured, but aftershocks continued long after those estimates. The number of dead rose to 36 a week after the initial tremors and injuries skyrocketed to 2,404, according to written statements by prefecture officials. Periodic aftershocks, some as strong as magnitude-6, still had not subsided. More than 5,700 homes and 2,887 buildings were damaged and 312 residences were completely destroyed. As of 5 p.m. October 30, 84,063 citizens living in the area were in temporary shelters - down from the over 100,000 said to have been displaced earlier. The refuge camps have limited operating budgets. Fresh water is scarce and the Japanese Self-Defense Force's helicopter service remains the only major source of food, gas and other essentials. The sprawling tent cities also do not have proper sanitation such as toilets and showers. In Japan, the farther you get from large cities the more elderly people you find, as young people tend to gravitate towards urban areas for school and work. Niigata is a very rural prefecture and many older Japanese were caught in the quakes. In addition to ongoing aftershocks, cold rain has been a common frustration to rescue workers and refugees. The quake and hundreds of subsequent aftershocks occurred in the mountainous region about 200 kilometers (124 miles) north-northwest of Tokyo and buckled highways, twisted rail lines, collapsed bridges and triggered landslides. The government has yet to calculate the ultimate cost of repairs and citizens aid. Though the exact size of a supplementary budget to cover reconstruction has yet to be determined, funds for Niigata are already being allocated. Aside from ghastly property damage and human cost, the earthquake also shook a cross-country shinkansen (super-fast train) of its tracks. The effort - and cost - required to right it will be enormous, as several wreckers must be dragged to the location to lift it. However, trains are such a crucial form of transportation in Japan that all parties involved are rushing to resolve the problem as soon as possible. Diet members, historians and scientists are calling this quake the worst in a decade, but they also draw comparisons the Niigata quake 40 years ago. The Niigata earthquake of June 16, 1964, had a magnitude of 7.5 and caused severe damage to many structures. It destroyed 2,000 homes and a tsunami triggered by movement of the sea floor associated with the fault rupture totally destroyed the port of Niigata. However, only 28 lives total were lost in that disaster, leading many to decide this most recent quake was the worse of the two. Side bar: TOKYO - After months of carrying an umbrella in capricious typhoon-prone weather, an unspoken code of "umbrella etiquette," if such a thing can or didn’t already exist, seems to have emerged among sophisticated Tokyoites in stark contrast to the ill-manners encountered elsewhere. First, one always closes their umbrella under shelters or awnings, even if they are going back out in just a few seconds. The umbrella is raised up when passing shorter people to avoid collision and unpleasant confrontation. It is simply tipped to the side (the bearer exposed to the rain in the process) when passing people of the same height. An umbrella in never held in the hands or lap on the train. It goes on the rack to drip on those below, supposedly preferable to having it waving about in the crowd. Likewise, one never takes an umbrella into a store all dripping wet; there are bins to leave it by the door for later retrieval. This gives rise to a national epidemic: umbrella theft. Despite Japan’s overall low rate of crime, it seems the umbrella thief is far too common a character due to low social stigma, but for their part, victims are somewhat less tolerant. But Tokyo doesn’t always spell perfect manners, in fact quite the opposite. One ready example would be trains, which aside from said umbrella rules are a site of truly rude behavior. People stare, cackle, below and chatter incessantly, read "risqué" magazines in front of ladies and children, read over others` shoulders, push and shove to get seats, steal seats, cut in line to get on the train first to snatch up the seats, etc. There is absolutely no civility amid this madness. It is a Darwinian world of savagery and base survival instinct. Many an old lady and tired salaryman seem near blows at times. They say chivalry is dead on the Tokyo subway, and that statement seems supported by this world of true gender equality vies-a-vie mutual struggle. No one gives up their seat, and those who do are harshly judged fools in the staring "hito no me" (eyes of others). Traveling in rush hour provides a taste of the other, less appealing aspects of commuter life in the inner city. So many people depend on the public transport, almost exclusively trains in the urban areas, that there are literally hundreds of people waiting to board the same car at any given time of day and thousands pack the hub stations such as Shinjuku, Ikebukuro and Shibuya. It is a difficult game the suave commuter plays. They naturally cut to assure optimum line placement, but resist the urge to get too close to the door when there is no chance of getting a seat. It becomes a matter of standing position: who will get the handles and who will suffer the motional whims of the rail. Those foolish enough to enter the train first find little comfort against the far wall, but the middle of the train is far worse; one is squashed and unbalanced as the world-famous "pushers" press dozens of other people into the train after them to be canned like sardines. There is seldom a handle to be found, but if available these lifelines mark the only faint glimmer of hope one has. Needless to say these and support bars are hotly contested. Those passengers who are without proper grounding are flung around as human projectiles until the unfortunates shakily exit for a day of work. No one gives them a second glance lest it be a scowl for bumping into them.

by Patrick W. Galbraith

 

TOKYO - Japan may seem the epitome of modernity, the cutting edge of industry and technology. But to the average Japanese technology boils down to one name, and his is not the name of a car or electronics company: Tetsuwan Atomu (Mighty Atom).

 

Known as "Astro Boy" in the U.S., this a cute little manga (comic book) and anime (animation) character is a cultural phenomenon in Japan that no one can seem to resist.

 

Elderly citizens carry around Atom fans; children sing his theme song as they walk in mass to school as often as dance halls remix it to ambient-techno blips; Atom iconography permeates pop-culture.

 

Japan Railway trains out of the busy hub station of Takadanobaba play the "Tetsuwan Atomu" theme as a departure chime.

 

Unlike any U.S. comparison such as Mickey Mouse, adults and academics publicly debate the cultural and intellectual significance of Atom.

 

"Tetsuwan Atomu" is the story of a superpowered robot with emotions that can perceive the "right" in all things and battles for justice in the twenty-first century. It spanned numerous manga collections and spawned the first commercial anime series and movies in Japan. Atom has since been made and remade, the anime even just reenvisioned for the next generation.

 

Created over half a century ago, Atom remains to Japanese today the epitome of ergonomics: man meets machine, technology meets humanity.

 

Especially now as Atom was supposedly created April 7, 2003, according to Tezuka Osamu, the "God of Manga" ("manga no kami") who revolutionized manga and anime in the 1940s and 50s into what it is today.

 

Atom was his quidessential robot character, a bridge between man and machine that acts as a liaison to help the two live together in peace, a decidedly Japanese fantasy of spiritual industrialization.

 

The history of robots in Japan dates back to the Edo Period (1604-1868) with "karakuri ningyou," the intricate robotic dolls still treasured today. Perhaps because of the animism of Japanese Shinto recognizing spirits in all things (even a robot can have a heart like Mighty Atom) or the historically central craftsmanship of the Japanese artisan, the Japanese people are without a doubt the most receptive in the world to robots as partners and helpers in their daily lives. 

 

Dozens of prominent companies such as Sony are striving to make a bipedal "partner robot" that can actually speak and interact with families "like Atom" - Honda’s Asimo is actually toted as "just one step from Atom" and compares all of its specs in ads to the character - while industry welcomes machines taking humans jobs because of fascination and love of them.

 

A worker doesn’t seem to mind losing his job to the virtuous "Atom," an image that the Japanese can‘t seem to shake as the ultimate future of all robotics.

 

Because of Tezuka and Atom’s influence, today manga, the uniquely detailed comics of Japan that broach the most sensitive of subjects in stylish, metaphoric ways, rule the bookseller’s market.

 

The term "manga" literally means "whimsical pictures" and was coined by the Edo Period ukiyoe artist Hokusai (himself much like a modern manga-ka (artist) in popularity who drew "Red Fuji," "The Wave" and "Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife," among other famous prints) to describe a book of woodblock prints he’d done.

 

Manga`s challenging content - spawned by Tezuka`s philosophical musings on the future of humanity - have led it to be read by almost every single Japanese person regardless of age.

 

Manga sell a staggering 2.2 billion books annually accounting for 40 percent of all books published and sold in Japan. Train cars are filled with people of every age and creed flipping through the latest monthly anthologies or digests.

 

It’s unthinkable in the context of U.S. comics, which are tailored to children thanks to company ownership of characters that force creators to become glorified production staff.

 

Japan is currently going through a manga revival re-releasing the most famous tittles such as "Lupin III," "The Rose of Versailles," "Tetsuwan Atom" and many others for the next generation to enjoy.