BETWEEN
FOUR WORLDS: CHINA, RUSSIA, JAPAN AND AUSTRALIA;
BETWEEN FOUR CAREERS: DIPLOMAT, ECONOMIST, JOURNALIST AND
JAPANOLOGIST;
BETWEEN
FOUR LANGUAGES: ENGLISH, CHINESE, RUSSIAN AND JAPANESE
Chapter
14
REFINING THE TRIBE THEORY
1. The Original Theory
2. On Contradictions: Emotional versus Practical
3. On Rationality
4. Finding Terminology
5. The Deciding Role of ‘Principle’
It was in the
mid-1970’s that I came up with my
‘Japan-is-a-tribe’ theory. At the time I
thought it was quite revolutionary.
I still think it is revolutionary. Events since have also
proved it was a lot more accurate than much of the
‘Japan is Number One’ hype at the time.
The ‘tribal’ flaws in the Japanese system are a
lot more apparent now than they were then, when Japan
seemed to be conquering all before it.
But there were also some flaws in my rather brash attempt
to define Japan.
Now, after many years talking about it and writing about
it, I think I have been able to refine it into something
better than the original.
But to go back to the original:
1.The
Original Theory
I had begun by trying to explain the differences between
the Japanese and the Chinese.
From there it was but a small step to realizing that when
compared with the Japanese, the Chinese were quite similar
to us Westerners - individualistic, argumentative,
opinionated, ideological etc.
From there it was only another small step to realizing that
the peoples of other older civilizations – the Middle
East and the Indian sub-continent – were also similar
to the Chinese, and ourselves, at least in comparison with
the Japanese.
I was impressed especially by the weakness of ideologies,
both political and religious, in Japan.
We take it for granted that all culturally advanced
societies must have some kind of basic political or
religious ideology to provide binding and give direction.
Why was Japan so different?
Origins
of Differences
I had come to see history and geography as key factors.
The older and more continental societies of the Eurasian
mainland, southern Europe included, had endured long
histories of constant conflict, competition and contact
with each other. To survive they had needed to create
strong ideologies to compete with the foreigners and to
hold themselves together.
Exposure to ideology and its doctrines in turn had led them
to embrace value systems that emphasized argument and
debate, principles and reasonings. This in turn had allowed
them to create the bureaucracies, technologies, economies,
strong central governments etc that had underlain their
impressive civilizations.
We north Europeans had come to be influenced by those older
civilizations, and by our own experience in competition,
contact and conflict with foreigners. We too had moved in
the same direction.
Japan had missed out on most of this experience. Its long
history of island isolation had allowed it to retain the
more emotional and groupist values of its original tribal,
clan, village and then feudal society.
True, the move to feudalism had done much to help refine
and codify those original tribal/village values. But it did
not change their basic essence.
Japan also had had enough contact with the outside world to
be able to borrow the concepts of central government,
bureaucracy, law, economy, science and technology developed
by the more ideological, continental civilizations, first
from China and later from the West.
It had combined these borrowings with its original value
system. On this basis it had been able to create the modern
industrial society we see today.
But deep down it remained basically as it had been. Its
values were emotional and groupist.
It was the ‘tribe’ that had become a nation,
and a very successful nation at that.
Emotional
Japanese
In describing the Japanese as ‘emotional,’ I
was not saying they indulged in the open display of
emotions.
They were not like Italians, for example.
Instead, I was using the word ‘emotional’ in
the sense of people putting feelings and human relations
ahead of the demands of reasonings and principles.
Even in the brief period I had been in Japan (the Japanese
Tribe book was written back in 1976) I had seen often how
situational and subjective factors seemed able easily to
outweigh logic and principle in much of the political,
economic and foreign policy debate.
True, there was no shortage of raw emotion - wild
festivals, slobbering drunks, weepy politicians.
In slogans and advertisements, firms constantly liked to
use sloppy, emotional terms like ‘nice feeling’
or ‘heartful service.’
(“The Bank with a Heart” was the slogan of the
former Daiichi Kangyo Bank even as it was up to its neck in
shady deals with developers and gangsters.)
The booms, moods and fads which swept Japan constantly were
part of the same emotional picture.
While there was still nothing to compare with the absurd
land and share boom of the late 1980’s – a boom
whose irrationality could only be matched by the tulip and
South Seas bubbles of the 17-18th centuries – I had
seen enough during the Tanaka Kakuei land boom of the early
1970`s, not to mention the irrational share market
movements of the mid seventies, to convince me that the
Japanese seemed to lack a liking for reasoned analysis of
price movements.
Then there was the childishly emotional side of the
Japanese – adults devouring comic books, prime-time
slapstick TV shows, male mother complexes….
General McArthur probably went too far when he said the
Japanese had mentalities of 12 year old children. But
clearly he had seen something immature and irresponsible in
the makeup of Japan’s wartime leaders.
Finally there was the refined emotionality – the
perfection and balance of the traditional Japanese house,
the refined sense of beauty and expression (NHK nature
films, female actresses in TV dramas for example),
advertisements that emphasize feeling rather than crude
price differences, the sensitivity in human relations.
But precisely because these sensitive human relations were
so important for the smooth working of Japan’s
society, the rules of those relations sometimes had to try
to control open or raw expression of feelings.
One result is that many had come to see the Japanese as
highly unemotional.
They were wrong, or at least so I argued.
‘Tribe’
Theory Problems
But while Japan’s borrowings from the more
ideological civilizations could explain some of its
progress, both as a society and as an economy, why was it
able to challenge and even exceed (as it seemed at the
time) our advanced Western societies?
Like many others I was floundering for an explanation. The
then popular theory – that Japan like Germany was
fortunate to have had most of its factories bombed and
therefore had had to start out again with new equipment
– did not make much sense (though later I was to
realize a more plausible Japan-Germany connection).
At the time I had focused in on what I saw as the intense
informationalisation of Japanese society. I had seen that
as a product of the groupism (see my article in Britannica,
Book of the Year, 1972 ).
But I soon realized that it could only be a partial
explanation.
While there are areas of Japan’s society where
information flows more freely than in the West, there are
walls too.
In any case, I soon came to realize that much that was
crucial to Japan’s success - the trains that ran on
time, the high standards of manufacturing excellence and so
on - had little to do with information flows.
They had much more to do with a kind of grassroots,
day-to-day practicality – attention to detail, in
particular
Emotionality and practicality are supposed to be
contradictory qualities.
How could I get round that problem?
2.
Contradictions: Emotional versus Practical
Nor was this the only Japanese contradiction I had to face.
Progressive and conservative, gentle and cruel, sensitive
and insensitive, moral and immoral, disciplined and
undisciplined.…… and these were just some.
As someone once said, you can say anything you like about
Japan and it is very likely it will be true.
But to begin with, it was the emotionality/practicality
contradiction that concerned me most.
In my original Japan is a Tribe book I had already
mentioned Japan’s practical attitudes to sex,
abortion, alcohol . I had seen this as a result of the
Japanese not letting themselves get caught up in the
dogmatic, moralistic principles of our more ideological,
non-Japanese societies..
I still see this as an important factor, particularly when
it comes to comparing Japan to older civilizations still
dominated by rigid religious ideologies, and increasingly
with the US bible belt.
Japanese
Perfectionism
But there is no rigid moralistic principle in our
non-Japanese societies that says trains should not run on
time. Why are the Japanese so perfectionist about making
sure they do run on time?
Or that cars and machines should operate faultlessly?
One reason has already been suggested, namely the liking
for order and perfection. Could this be an emotional
quality? Certainly the displeasure the Japanese get from a
lack of order and perfection seems to be more a matter of
feeling than logic.
Shoes in a genkan (entrance way to a house) left
disordered, cars not parked correctly in line, garbage not
sorted properly - all these things seem to cause genuine
pain.
Walk down a street with an untied shoelace or a bag left
open and some conscientious citizen is bound to want to let
you know about it.
Nor is it just shoes and shoelaces. It is almost impossible
to find a misprint in newspapers or magazines, even those
of inferior quality.
Even quality newspapers in the West will carry the
occasional misprint. Poor quality Chinese publications are
rife with mistakes.
One reason for the perfectionism and care could be
Japan’s group ethic.
Keeping the trains running on time and producing goods of
fine quality could be seen as an emotional obligation to
another and very important group called customers.
In Japan, if a local train simply fails to stop at a
designated station it not only becomes media news. We are
given detailed figures of the number of passengers
inconvenienced as a result.
The extraordinary efforts that most Japanese suppliers make
to keep customers happy and to service faulty equipment
often goes well beyond what more hard-headed suppliers in
the West would see as needed to guarantee profits.
Strangers worrying about my shoelaces could also be part of
the same syndrome.
Some see this passion for order and neatness as the result
of a strict Prussian-style ideology demanding social
discipline.
But in that case, how can we explain the lack of discipline
in so many areas of Japanese society – the bike
gangs, the ugly building developments, the ease with which
people dump garbage by other people’s roadsides for
example?
Ideologies lay down principles that are supposed to be
across-the-board, i.e. universal.
Clearly the Japanese demand for order and discipline
operates at very short range, limited largely to the
individual’s immediate environment, or what the
Japanese call the shiya – literally the range of
sight (attention).
Within that range people will focus intensely on creating
order, symmetry, kindness, beauty or whatever it is that
they think is important.
But things outside that range receive much less attention
(unless the media decide to bring them within range, in
which case they can end up with severe over-attention).
This close, almost obsessive, attention to one’s
immediate surroundings and specific responsibilities, while
ignoring the more distant and abstract is yet another, and
so far unexplained, contradictory side of the Japanese
personality.
(One such contradiction is the ability of the Japanese to
show so much care and attention in daily human relations,
and yet show such little remorse or regret for the behavior
of their soldiers in recent war situations.)
(Another example is Japan’s intense anger over the
fate of a few Japanese citizens abducted from Japan by
North Korea during the seventies and eighties while
ignoring Japan’s much more barbaric behavior to the
tens of thousands of Chinese abducted and Koreans
conscripted for wartime forced labor in Japan a few decades
earlier.)
With most of us more ‘principled’ non-Japanese
the contradictions work the other way. So we worry
long-term strategies, our ideologies or more abstract
issues like smoking rights or the Vietnam War. Whether or
not the trains run on time is less important.
The ultimate in this contrast is the image of the
absent-minded professor for whom untied shoelaces and
disheveled appearance take a very second place to devising
a new theory of the universe.
We assume that this broader view of things is superior:
Does it really matter if the shoes in the genkan or the
cars in the car-park are not all neatly arranged in
parallel and facing the same direction?
But the Japanese could be quite entitled to ask why we do
not pay more attention to the small, day-to-day practical
details needed to keep the trains running on time or to
produce defect-free goods.
Later I was to come to realize that there is a neat duality
in this and most other seeming Japanese contradictions.
If we non-Japanese are strong in one direction, we will be
weak in the other direction.
If the Japanese are weak in that direction they will be
strong in the other direction.
Mirror image opposites.
The Japanese approach would have its merits and demerits.
But then there would be our non-Japanese approach with its
almost perfectly matching list of demerits and merits.
It was all rather like the binary strands of the DNA
molecule, running virtually through the full gamut of
Japanese – non-Japanese differences,
Anyone interested in how societies develop should take a
much closer look at this social DNA molecule.
True, there is also a small army of nit-picking, mainly
academic, Japanologists who like to insist that Japan is no
different from any other society.
But even they must have noticed the almost complete absence
of misprints in the newspapers and magazines they read, in
the detailed preparation for the conferences and meetings
to which they are invited, and the lack of glitches in TV
shows they watch.
Do they have an explanation for all that?
3.
Rational Emotional versus Irrational Emotional
From realizing the DNA-style duality in values, it was but
a brief step to realizing the duality in the rationality
and the irrationality in the respective value systems.
Usually we see the emotional as tinged with the irrational.
But if it underlies the extraordinary attention to detail
that we find in Japan it is hardly irrational if it means
defect-free manufacture.
If Japan’s emotional group ethic says that people
should work together cooperatively, and the result is
higher work productivity, is that irrational?
Indeed, for a long time in the eighties our management
experts used to see Japan’s cooperative ethic as a
model of rationality for us all , even if they did not
understand its origins.
True, the ‘emotional’ can also have its ugly or
irrational sides - the booms and the busts, wasteful
services due to excessive concern for customers, the
particular brutality of Japanese militarism.
We can call that emotionalism.
Practicality is rational reliance on feelings. Emotionalism
is irrational reliance on feelings.
They are flip sides of the same ‘emotional’
coin – with ‘emotional’ now defined as
reliance on and sensitivity to feelings and instincts,
rather than outbursts of feelings and instincts.
(The tribe too can be both practical and emotionalist.
Irrational taboos and wild outbursts combine with highly
rational efforts to get crops planted in time, organize
stable social systems, distribute food fairly.)
(The very fact that the tribe survives, often in adverse
circumstances, is proof that, like Japan, it does some
things right.)
Rational
Principles versus Irrational Principles
Realising that practicality and emotionality were related
was an important breakthrough.
From there it was but a short step to realizing that those
of us who operate more in the area of principles and
reasonings harbor a similar contradiction.
When we handle our principles and reasonings correctly
(i.e. rationally) we end up with an attractively logical
and scientific approach to problems.
When we handle them wrongly we end up with a very
unattractive dogmatism – something far from unknown
in many of our non-Japanese societies.
We become too attached to our principles and reasonings,
even when they are mistaken or divorced from reality.
In short, if rational practicality and irrational
emotionalism are flip sides of the same
‘emotional’ coin, then scientific rationality
and dogmatic irrationality are the flip sides of our
non-Japanese ‘principled’ coin.
Almost every day we see this scientific/dogmatic
contradiction in our own societies. We take it for granted.
But the Japanese puzzle over it, in much the same way as we
puzzle over the combination of practicality and
emotionalism in their society.
(Interestingly females say much the same about us males -
smart logic matched by irrational hang-ups and dogmas. The
feminine aspect of Japanese psychology – sensitivity
to relationships, openness to language and ideas - is a
controversy we can look at later.)
4.
Finding Terminology
Increasingly, I was having a problem of terminology.
I had described the Japanese as ‘emotional.’
But if I was to recognize the many practical aspects of the
Japanese ethic, I needed some other word.
My first move was to try to use the sociologist’s
concept of the ‘particularistic’, as opposed to
the ‘universalistic.’
Particularistic
versus Universalistic
The particularistic – the propensity to operate on
the basis of particular relationships, feelings and
situations - seemed to say something about the Japanese
personality.
Attention to details, tactics, particular feelings and
particular human relationships were part of that
particularistic picture. It was matched by the lack of
attention to broader issues – strategies, ideologies,
strategic foreign and economic policies etc .
In the same way, the concept of
‘universalistic’ – the propensity to
operate on the basis of principles and reasonings that have
broad application – also came close to what I had
already been saying about the non-Japanese personality.
But particularistic versus universalistic had implications
of inferiority versus superiority, backwardness versus
progress.
And clearly the Japanese were not backward, or lacking in
progress.
Traditional
versus Modern
Then there were the even more pejorative concepts of
‘traditional’ values as opposed to
‘modern’ values.
Western Japan-watchers had liked to see Japan as struggling
to move from the traditional to the modern. In the postwar
years, many progressive Japanese had embraced the same
terminology
They too had advocated a move to more ‘modern’
values while conservatives tried hard to defend the
‘traditional.’ That progressives also stood to
gain politically from this debate by marginalizing the
conservatives was also relevant.
(In the introduction to her early seventies book about
Japan as a groupist, ‘vertical’ society, the
mildly progressive sociologist Nakane Chie feels the need
to apologise to her readers for seeming to defend
traditional values.)
But by the late 1970’s Japan was well on the way to
catching up with the West. If ‘traditional,’
values were so inferior to ‘modern’ values, why
was ‘traditional’ Japan doing as well if not
better than many of our more ‘modern’ Western
societies?
The conservatives seemed to gain a new lease of life.
(Unknowingly, I got caught up in the debate. )
(In Australia I might have been seen as a wild-eyed radical
for having opposed the Vietnam War. But by the late
seventies my theory about Japan progressing while retaining
its original value system was seen as confirming the’
traditional’ approach of the conservatives.)
(One result was that I was largely shunned by the political
and social progressives in Japan, despite having agreed
strongly with them over Vietnam, China and a host of other
foreign policy issues.)
(But I was embraced by the political and social
conservatives.)
(In some ways that was an unplanned blessing since it gave
me access, at least for while, to many of the inner circles
of business, academic and even political power and
thinking.)
(However, I did find myself welcomed by the economic
progressives, for a most interesting and curious reason.)
(It appears that prewar conservatives had been so caught up
in the idea of agriculture as the source of good values and
a strong economy that they saw manufacturing as
peripheral.)
(To counter this obscurantism, my father’s concept,
developed in the 1930’s, of the three stages of
economic development – primary, secondary and
tertiary – was welcomed by progressives since it
proved the central role of manufacturing in Japan’s
future development. )
(Some even told me how my father’s books had had to
be translated and distributed furtively during the war
years to avoid conservative disapproval.)
Rationalism
versus ?
In short, whatever way I went – collectivist versus
individualistic, emotional versus principled,
particularistic versus universalistic, traditional versus
modern - I was having problems describing the Japanese in
relation to other peoples.
For a while I toyed with the Germanic concepts of
gemeinschaft versus gesellschaft.
They seemed to match closely the concepts of
emotional/particularistic versus principled/universalistic.
They also matched the concept of primary, small group
values versus secondary, large group values.
(That the Germans could relate to this difference so well
was yet another of the Japan-Germany similarities I was to
discover later.)
But all this was in German. My language was English, or
Japanese . I still had some way to go.
The solution to part of my problem came from a simple
change in wording.
‘Universalism’ is usually defined as an
attachment to ‘principles that have universalistic
validity.’ But if we change that definition so it
becomes an attachment to ‘principles that CLAIM
universalistic validity’ then a lot of things fall
into place.
If our principles have the validity claimed for them, then
well and good.
But if they lack that validity? Then we are back to the
world of economic, religious, political dogmas that can do
such harm to our allegedly advanced universalistic
societies.
‘Rationalism,’ I decided, would replace
‘universalism’.
As those familiar with the English language will realize,
rationalistic does not mean rational.
It means the attempt to be rational relying on principles
and reasonings that seek or claim to be valid.
If they have that sought-after validity then well and good.
But there is no guarantee they will have that validity.
In short, the term ‘rationalism’ encapsulated
neatly the concept of rational principled and irrational
principled which I had developed earlier.
However, while ‘rationalistic’ seemed a good
word to use in English, there were problems in Japanese.
‘Rational’ in Japanese is gori teki, i.e. in
accord with the principle . It is a Chinese origin word. In
China, predictably, being rational meant being in accord
with principles.
‘Rationalistic’ becomes gori shugi, i.e. the
ideology of seeking to be in accord with the principle. To
me that is different from ‘rational.’ .
But most Japanese seemed to assume that the two –
gori teki and gori shugi - have virtually the same meaning.
Interestingly, gori teki in Japanese does not necessarily
have the positive meaning that ‘rational’ has
in English and other languages.
It can have overtones of a cold, excessively cerebral
approach to problems.
Rikutsu-poi – the propensity to emphasise logic and
principles in one’s approach to life can be seen as a
personality fault, childish even.
The mature adult is supposed to be able to go beyond
reasonings to take account of other factors, both practical
and emotional.
Rirutsu-nuki – avoidance of logic and principles
– is not necessarily seen as a fault–
especially if it implies a reliance on jocho (warm feelings
and emotion) which is very definitely a virtue.
During the eighties boom in Japan’s stock market,
rikutsu-nuki was a term often used to describe irrational
bursts of enthusiasm for speculative stocks.
If anything it seemed to encourage even more foolish,
follow-the-leader purchasing of those stocks.
Also relevant is the way 19th century nationalist thinkers
of Japan’s Mito School even managed to condemn the
Chinese for excessive emphasis on ri. They saw it as too
cold, calculating and mechanical.
They saw Japanese culture as superior because of its
emphasis on jo - feeling and emotion.
They were to have a strong influence on the right-wing
ideologists of the thirties, and perhaps even postwar.
Footnote;
Some years after I had
developed my tribe theory and was trying to refine the
terminology, I came across the text of Yukawa Hideki's
address to a 1964 University of Hawaii symposium on the
Japanese mentality.
Yukawa discovered the meson and is one of Japan's more
deserving Nobel Prize winners. If only for that reason his
views on the mentality of his compatriots are of interest.
They also closely matched my own views, even if he tended
to over-emphasise what he saw as faults in the Japanese
mind. He also identifies rationality with what I call
rationalism.
Some quotes: 'The Japanese mentality is, in most cases,
unfit for abstract thinking and takes interest merely in
tangible things… '
'Originally speaking, rationality takes an interest in the
permanent and universal order transcending the narrow scope
of space and time. But Japanese thought is concerned mainly
about the local and the temporary order ….'
'The peculiarity of the Japanese mode of thinking lies in
its complete neglect of complementary alternatives. This we
may term Japanese irrationalism. Of course, this is
completely foreign to any form of scientific spirit.
…It has the tendency to sidestep as far as possible
any kind of confrontation.‘
Yukawa also confirms closely my own thoughts about the
Chinese influence on Meiji Japan:
' As was seen in the instances of the introduction of
Buddhism and Confucianism, the Japanese were very
progressive in the assimilation of their high-level
cultural assets.'
'But among these, only the ones were appreciated that were
effective in regulating the existing social and political
order. Hence, a thoroughgoing rationalism, such as the
philosophy of Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, escaped general
comprehension and found sympathy in the intellectual
minority alone.'
Yukawa was one of that rationalistic minority, hence his
scientific success perhaps. His father was an expert in the
Chinese classics.
Instinctive?
But while in English, at least, ‘rationalistic’
was a good substitute for ‘universalistic’ in
describing most non-Japanese value systems, I still had the
problem of finding a term to describe Japanese values.
“Particularistic’ did not seem a good choice,
especially since in translation– kobetsu shugi - it
was almost meaningless in Japanese.
Increasingly I found myself drawn to the term
‘instinctive’ as an alternative.
At times our instincts can lead us in the right, i.e.
practical, direction. At other times they can lead us in
wrong i.e. emotionalist directions.
That seemed to match closely what I was trying to say about
the Japanese.
But once again there was a problem in Japanese since the
direct translation of instinctive – honno-teki - can
imply animalistic instincts.
In speeches about Japanese management I often had to borrow
the term ‘jinpon shugi’ – which can be
translated roughly as ‘taking the human factor as all
important.’
Japanese audiences could relate to that.
Kansei
versus Risei
Only later did I realize that I could summarise it all
neatly in the Japanese concepts of kansei versus risei. Kan
means feeling, ri as we have already seen means principle.
Add the suffix ‘sei’ to both words and it means
the quality of relying on kan versus the quality of relying
on ri.
Japanese audiences had no problem with that either.
5. The
Deciding Role of ‘Principle’
Later I realized that in defining the difference between
what I call the Japanese approach and the non-Japanese
approach, I could reduce everything to a single variable
– the propensity or otherwise to rely on argued
principles (used in the broad sense to include reasonings).
To begin with, we are all creatures of instinct, with a
propensity for what I call the emotional. Deep down we all
prefer to operate on the basis of feelings rather than
principles.
But some of us like to rationalise those feelings. We look
for reasons and principles to explain them.
For example, all humans in their original state seem
instinctively to want to believe in a supernatural
presence.
Those who do not feel any need to rationalize those
feelings will be happy simply to stay with them as they
are. They may try to convert them into some form of
animistic religion; Japan’s native Shinto belongs to
that category. But lacking any strict body of doctrine it
remains what today we would describe as
‘primitive.’
Those who seek to rationalise those feelings will add
principles and reasons, and end up with one or other of the
world’s organized religions, with clearly defined
doctrines.
Another example: All humans have instinctive likes and
dislikes of other peoples .
If they do not try to rationalize those feelings they end
up with the highly personalist approach of the Japanese
– they like some foreigners and dislike others very
much on the basis of personality, achievement, or
accidental contacts .
Black people in Japan especially see both sides of that
particular syndrome. So too to some extent do the rest of
us, with some allegedly despised Chinese or Koreans
enjoying very high status in Japan.
The inferiority complexes towards white foreigners (gaijin)
in the postwar years, mainly because of our stronger
economies, was another example.
We non-Japanese operate differently.
As in most things, we have the same likes and dislikes as
the Japanese. But we will try to rationalize those
feelings.
Towards those we dislike we will decide that our culture,
ideology, race or economic achievement makes us superior.
And it will be an across-the-board, universalistic
assertion of superiority, sometimes coupled with forced
racial separation (apartheid)
And because it is a principle (i.e. universalistic) no
exceptions can be allowed, as we saw so clearly in the
former South Africa.
Certainly we could never admit to any feeling of
inferiority. Even if economically backward, we will
convince ourselves that out culture or something else makes
us equal or superior to others.
Another example: We all tend to have an instinctive
attachment to the national collective in which we were born
and raised,
If we are Japanese we just stay with the instinct . It is
unexplained – ware ware Nihonjin (we Japanese, as
opposed to the rest of the world).
Even wartime nationalism are more instinctive than argued,
or at lest logically argued.
We non-Japanese try to rationalize the instinct, and end up
with our various nationalistic ideologies.
We all have a group instinct – a need to feel linked
to other humans. It is something we inherit from primitive
times. IN this sense we are all groupist, and not just the
Japanese.
But Japanese groupism remains simple and localized –
the ‘locational’ group of Nakane Chie which I
mentioned earlier.
We non-Japanese use the principle of attribute to
rationalise our group instinct. The nation with its
distinctive language, culture etc is the ultimate
‘attribute’ group.
(Could this explain our stronger sense of public morality
as compared with the Japanese – at least when it
comes to discarding litter in public places? )
The simple addition of ‘principles’ or
‘reasons’ – i.e. rationalisation - to
basic feelings can make a big difference in results.
Similarly in the area of values.
Add principles to Japan’s instinctive
‘shame’ morality and you have a rationalistic
‘guilt’ morality.
Add principles to the instinctive Japanese concepts of giri
(obligation) and ninjo (compassion) and you end up with
Western doctrines of responsibility and humanism.
Add principles to the sense of hierarchy that exists in all
society and you end up with class and caste structures.
The Japanese like familial management. Rely more on
principles and you get Western ‘scientific’
hire and fire management.
And so on.
In this very simple way, I found that almost all the
differences between non-Japanese and Japanese values could
easily be explained by the existence or otherwise of
rationalising principles.
Another breakthrough came when I realized I could do the
same with the practicality/emotionalism syndrome versus the
scientific/dogmatic syndrome.
Practicality plus principles creates the scientific
approach.
Emotionalism plus principles creates the dogmatic approach.
A sensible, practical observer will note the differences
between the various animal species.
But if he/she then looks for principles to explain the
differences, he/she can end up creating or embracing the
science of evolution.
Meanwhile another person with an emotionalistic belief in
an all-powerful and all-wise God will rely Biblical
principles dogmatically to ‘prove’ there is no
such thing as evolution, that it is all the hand of God.
Another example: the sensible economist sees the practical
merits and demerits of free competition and devises
theories to explain and regulate both the merits and
demerits.
The less sensible economist is caught up in rightwing, free
market ideologies. He/she then devises the dogmatic
theories now known as market fundamentalism to champion the
merits while ignoring the demerits
Another economist caught up in leftwing ideologies will
advocate across-the-board protectionism and state control
regardless of the demerits.
And so on.
Practical feelings plus sensible principles create
scientific rationality. Emotionalistic feelings plus bad
principles create dogmatic irrationality.
When I hit on that equation (some time in the mid eighties)
I felt I had explained a large slice of human nature.
But as always I had problems getting others to see the neat
symmetry of it all.
One or two of my friends showed interest (John Slee of the
Sydney Morning Herald; Emiko Magoshi, now at a university
in Nagoya). But to say that the rest of the world shared
the excitement would be a great exaggeration.
Phenomenalism
The Japanese propensity for what someone once described as
phenomenalism is part of the same picture. They will
concentrate intently on the phenomenon put before their
eyes, but forget to seek out the reasons for it, or its
consequences.
Japan’s many scandals provide examples. The media
will focus in for days, even weeks, on some unfortunate
accused of breaking the rules, without any consideration of
the reasons why it may have been necessary to break those
rules.
The so-called Recruit scandal was one such example, with
the media and then the public quite uninterested in the
background to that unique and highly progressive
firm’s activities– why as a company trying to
force reforms in Japan’s education and employment
policies it had had to break the rules sometimes.
Indeed, once the demonizing began, even the Recruit
company’s obviously progressive deeds – for
example, trying to bring some order to the recruitment of
university graduates, making sure IPO profits went to
company supporters rather than to the gangsters and corrupt
securities companies as was the rule in those days –
can be made to look sinister.
The Japanese do not share the Socratic belief that
phenomena need to be explained. They are often quite happy
to leave them just as they are, or rather as they appear to
be.
It is a major reason for what often seems to be Japanese
irrationality.
Blurred
Borderlines
A further point is that the distinction between what is
rational and what is irrational can be very blurred.
Usually we can only judge by results.
When the Japanese convinced themselves emotionally that the
spiritual strength of the Japanese nation would allow them
to defeat the USA, we judged them to have been highly
irrational.
(In fact they could well have gained a victory over the US
navy early in the Pacific War if their codes had not been
broken. In that case, we would have agreed that they
behaved very rationally and practically. )
But when the Japanese in the postwar years ignored US
advice and decided they could rely on the emotional
strength of the Japanese nation and worker to rebuild their
industrial might, we had to admit they were right –
that they had been both practical, and rational.
Similarly with our side of the equation. The reasonings and
principles of our politicians, economists, businessmen and
so on can lead to good results at times. But usually it is
only after the event that we know for sure. .
The same reasonings and principles can also lead to bad
policies and business decisions. The US Great Depression is
the classic example. And once again, we have to wait till
after the event to decide.
We can only judge by results.
Realising the dualities – the yin and the yang - in
the world around us did more than explain Japan.
It helped me understand what for me at the time was the
greatest mystery of them all – the factors behind
Japan’s economic progress, and the relative progress
of other societies.
More on that in the next chapter.
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