LIFE STORY


Part 11
BEGINNING THE NEW LIFE; 1978 AND ONWARDS


BETWEEN FOUR WORLDS : CHINA, RUSSIA, JAPAN AND AUSTRALIA;
BETWEEN FOUR CAREERS : DIPLOMAT, ECONOMIST, JOURNALIST AND JAPANOLOGIST.
 

Early 1978

I am a refugee from Canberra politics and ANU academism, a part-time lecturer at Tokyo's Sophia University eking out extra income from translations and odd jobs, and with no visible future.

Early 1979

I am a full professor at Sophia, a regular face on Japanese national television, quoted heavily in the print media, and launched firmly on Japan’s lucrative lecture circuit, with an income well above that of an Australian prime minister.

The sudden jump from total obscurity to all-Japan notoriety was rather like the jolt from a rocket launch.

You can suffer some gravity problems as a result.

A New Lifestyle

I have never been addicted to beautiful living; a childhood upbringing in harsh Australian countryside took care of that problem a long time ago.Life those days really was meant to be hard, and unpretentious.

But the extraordinary income coming in from the lecture circuit meant there were some lifestyle changes.

First move was to get out of our tiny Sugamachi apartment and find ourselves a house, which we did, in the Akebono-bashi district, also quite close to central Tokyo.

As mentioned earlier, the old traditional Japanese-style house on the site had a negative value of 3 million yen. But the land was not cheap, even though it was still pre-bubble years. And much renovation was needed to make the old house livable.

(A few years later we were to build another and more conventional house in the small garden alongside, and move there, with the old house rented out to the US academic and Japanologist, Carol Gluck.)

(To my dismay she threw out all the remaining traditional junk in the house - old wooden shutters etc - and replaced it with chic shoji and trendy kotatsu).

(Later I had to admit she was right, though we disagreed a lot about Japan and its history.)

Next move was to move out of my office-cell in Sophia and set up a proper office in the very conveniently located Kojimachi area near the Nagata-cho Diet complex.It had live-in facilities, and was close enough to Sophia for me to claim I was still able to provide office hours to students.

(The cells allocated to professors at Japanese universities could not even provide space for interviews, let alone a secretary. Most academics who hit the publicity limelight do as I did, which does little to endear them to their less lime-lighted and cell-confined colleagues. )

The Kojimachi office occupied one floor in the house of a retired banker, Kazuro Sonoda, brought up in Germany during the war years, fluent in German as a result, and with certain aristocratic pretensions (his five story house was on some formerly palace-owned land next to the Akasaka Prince hotel - an ideal location).

The rent was not cheap. But a friendly tax official was to tell me that if I incorporated myself, I could then write off against tax not just the office rent, but many other expenses as well.

I was happy to oblige.

(Japan’s tax regime has many such oddities. They are a major cause of Japan’s fiscal problems.)

I had also hired a part time assistant — a Sophia student called Fujioka who was supposed to be studying law but seemed to know little more than the Japanese Constitution - a typical product of Japan’s distorted education system.

But even the expense of an office and a secretary could not absorb the deluge of funds from the lecture circuit. By a series of accidents I had already begun to find myself involved in the land business.

For better or for worse, I was to get a lot more deeply involved. It kept me fit and taught me a lot about flowers, trees and bulldozers. But it was very time and attention consuming.

Whether or not in the process I did serious damage to a promising career as academic, writer and commentator depends a lot on whether I could have had such a career in the first place.

But it was not a deliberate lifestyle choice. It was, as I say, the result of accidents, and we can begin with accident Number One.

The Boso Peninsula

For years Yasuko and I had enjoyed weekend hikes in the hills and mountains around Tokyo. We knew vaguely that the Boso Peninsula existed - that it was a large blob of land just a few miles to the south of Chiba city which itself was just to the east of Tokyo.

But our hikes has always been to the west and south-west of Tokyo. Like most Tokyoites, we assumed that Boso was little more than a collection of low hills and nondescript ocean frontage. To get there one had to pass through a wasteland of factories, steel mills and scruffy urbanization spreading towards and beyond Chiba city.

Travellers to and from Narita airport just beyond this urban-industrial eyesore are sometimes warned to close their eyes as they pass through.

But what they do not tell you is that just to the south of all this junk is a vast and largely undeveloped expanse of lush, semi-tropical hill country jutting out into a blue Pacific, rimmed by delightful fishing villages and a string of sandy, southward-facing surfing beaches.

Inland is row after row of deeply-forested hills sprinkled with farms and villages.

The southern end of the peninsula is bathed by a warm current from the tropics, - the kuroshio - which means it is warm enough to grow flowers and vegetables for the Tokyo market right through the winter.

Most of all, Boso has space, and depth. Unlike almost anywhere else in Japan (Kii Peninsula is the one exception) there are hills where you can walk for hours without seeing humans and country roads where you can drive for hours without seeming to get anywhere.

It is a paradise waiting to be discovered.

Paradise Sought

By the early 1980’s we found ourselves saddled with two small children. Literally saddled.

When we went to climb hills and mountains around Tokyo we had to carry them on our backs.

We needed a piece of countryside for ourselves where we could go weekends, do a bit of farming maybe, and generally enjoy nature, without being ‘saddled.’

But where, and how?

“Land for Sale” signs are rare in the Japanese countryside. Most Japanese farmers seem to believe that selling part of the family estate is a sin against the ancestors who looked after and developed that land for centuries before them.

Besides, very few urban Japanese want to buy genuine countryside land anyway. It is seen as a haven for snakes, ghosts, bugs and landslides. Worse, it is lonely and unfashionable.

Japanese like their land to be flat, developed and surrounded by other Japanese.

In the fashionable, fatcat gaijin/Japanese besso areas of Izu and Karuizawa, much further from Tokyo than Boso, there was weekend resort land for sale.

But land prices were already in the 100,000 yen a tsubo (3.3 square meters) range, and that did not include the cost of a house.

One could end up having to pay close to one million US dollars, all for the privilege of having to travel several hours each weekend to get to an expensive house and block of land facing directly onto someone else's expensive house and block of land.

I had to look somewhere else. But where?

A Chance?

Then one day it happened.

I had come across an advertisement offering small houses on small blocks of land in the Kujukuri beach area just to the south of Narita.

Price: about two-three million yen apiece - unbelievably cheap, even by Australian standards and certainly by Karuizawa or Izu standards.

Kujukuri we knew, and liked. Kujuku means 99, and li (ri) is the Japanese mile, and the name is no over-statement - a wide strip of unspoiled beach facing good Pacific surf and running close to 100 kilometers, all the way from Choshi in the east and down to Ohara in the south-west .

We had been there before, once or twice, to swim.

That a beach of this quality could be largely deserted, even in the middle of Japan’s hot mid-summers, even though it was only an hour or less from many of the 30 million souls living in the Tokyo conurbation, was, and remains, a mystery.

At the equidistant but far less attractive Shonan beaches the other side of Yokohama, the summer months would see bodies jammed together like seals on a rock.

(It reminded me of the story about how they advertised Saipan as a resort.)

( In the Western-oriented media they showed a beautiful tropical beach with just one or two people on it. In the Japanese media they showed a hotel beach-front crowded with other Japanese.)

Not just the beaches, but the Kujukuri hinterland was also largely undeveloped.

Wartime Japan had assumed that Kujukuri would be the natural invasion route for an American attack on Tokyo. The complicated, roughly-built road system there was deliberately designed to confuse and delay the Americans once they landed, it is said.

True or not, it was to confuse a lot of Japanese, and us, for many years after.

The Kujukuri area also had a cultural attraction.

Aoki Shigeru’s famous painting had preserved the sight of locals only a generation or so ago going naked into the sea to haul their fishing boats and catches on to Kujukuri beaches.


To the south, the ama-san women (abalone and lobster gatherers) used to dive semi-naked below the Onjuku cliffs.

Maybe that advertisement would give us access, not just to cheap real estate but also to some of this traditional culture, or so we thought.

We were wrong.

The houses turned out to be shacks. The land attached was little more than 60-70 square meters of flat sandy soil surrounded by other shacks.

And it was all quite a distance from the beach.

Paradise Found

What to do? As I stood there mumbling some negative words to the salesman I noticed a low line of wooded hills in the distance.

Pioneering instincts were triggered. Maybe there would be some land up there in them thar hills that I could get stuck into and develop.

‘You want land over there?” said the salesman in some kind of awe. “Snakes, jungle, ...

The pioneering instincts bubbled even more. Could he find something for us?

Well, just maybe. But none of his Japanese clients had ever shown any interest. He would have to check out the situation there for us.

We decided to check out the situation, for ourselves.

Soon after the Kujukuri visit we went into the hills we had seen in the distance.

There in the Tsurumai area, wedged between two main highways, we had discovered a small rural paradise of Shangri La charm - richly forested hills, beautifully-tended farm land and old-world villages seemingly cut off from the rest of the Japan but only an hour or so from Tokyo as the car runs.

Needless to say, there were no buses or trains. Yet as far as we were concerned, this was Japanese countryside at its best. We even tried to rent an abandoned, thatched farm house we discovered there.

(When Japanese communities are left free to organise themselves in isolation, they can do so with a perfection rarely seen elsewhere. It is partly the result of the enforced isolation on Japan’s once feudal societym, particularly in Boso where defeated refugees from the Genji-Heike wars were said to have settled.)

(There is a message here for our globalizers and free traders trying to impose outside values and influences on the rest of the world. Leave people alone and they will progress naturally, of their own accord.)

(People are not stupid. Behind the semi-protective walls of isolation they will develop naturally and organically the social structures and industries they need.)

(Japan did just this during its Tokugawa period, when not just the countryside but a range of local industries were able to develop free from outside competition and intervention, laying the skill and entrepreneurial basis for the highly competitive Japanese industries of today.)

(Even today in the villages you can find quite sophisticated metal working factories turning out implements needed by local communities.)

(Competition from largescale plants may have forced many of those smaller factories to close down. Certainly many have been forced to modernise. But those largescale plants themselves drew many of their early workers from those rural factories.)

(It is the careful balance between protectionism and competition that allows economies to progress. Japan has been successful in keeping that balance.)

(If a lot of other developing peoples, Africans especially, had been allowed to do the same, at their own pace and time, the world today would be a very different place).

A few weeks later the phone rang.

The salesman had found a block of land near Yoro Keikoku (Yoro Gorge) in the middle of the peninsula and not far from our Tsurumai Shangri-lai. Could we please come and look at it.

We were more than willing.

The Yoro Keikoku area was also enticing — undulating, steep, deeply forested hills rising to 300 meters towards the head waters of the Yoro river as it cut its way through the middle of the peninsula on its way to the ocean.

It reminded me a lot of the Austrian countryside I had seen as a student wandering around Europe. .

It too had a remoteness that made Tokyo seem a thousand miles away.

Paradise Purchased

The land for sale was six thousand square meters (about two acres) of fertile land, largely covered with bamboo on some flat land at the top and hinoki (cypress) forest on the slopes below.

Total price - only 3 million yen, or around 1,500 yen per tsubo (3.3 square meters) - not much more than what the land sharks were charging gullible Japanese for useless rocky hillsides in distant Hokkaido

It was also a lot less than what hard-headed Australians were happily paying for weekend shack land an hour or so out of Sydney, Brisbane or Melbourne.

(As I have been happy to tell unbelieving Japanese audiences ever since, a major reason I have wanted to stay in Japan so long is because the land here is so much cheaper than in Australia.)

At first I could not believe that such attractive land so close to Tokyo could be so cheap. The hinoki trees alone must be worth more than 3 million yen, I thought fancifully (timber prices were soon to fall heavily as the yen soared and imports flooded in.)

True, much of the block was steep slope running down to a tiny stream cut deep into the soft, layered mud-rock that makes up most of Boso.

But that simply added to the glamour and mystery. We had our own private canyon. We could spend days exploring it.

We even managed to find our own private secluded waterfall . And the small patch of flat land at the top could be cultivated and built upon, provided we cleared the bamboo.

(The Boso Peninsula is a geological anomaly. (Originally a deep bay filled with flood mud, sand and detritus from surrounding volcanoes, it was uplifted in very recent geological times as the Pacific plate continued to push up against the Japan plate. Much of its sedimentary rock still lies in thick, horizontal, loosely compacted layers.)

(Deep canyons with the layers of mud or sand rock displayed along the sides are a natural result.)

(Some Boso rivers are curious also. Their lower reaches were flooded as the level of the oceans rose after the Ice Age. They then filled with silt to form wide plains in which the original hills sit like islands surrounded by oceans of green rice fields.)

(Much of Boso is also a farming anomaly, with soft, fertile land on the tops of the hills and hard clay or rock in the valleys. It seems that dust and ash from Mr Fuji and other volcanoes continued to rain down on the peninsula as it was being uplifted.)

(Today that dust and ash has turned to fertile loam. But in the valleys it has been washed and eroded away. It remains only on the non-eroded hilltops, and is similar to the fertile volcanic loam that covers much of the Kanto Plain.)

True, our little piece of Boso paradise had no water supply, gas or electricity. And to get there we had to walk several hundred meters along a dank forest track leading in from a narrow, little-used road.

But that just added to the excitement of it all. As we disappeared down that forest track after our long trek from Tokyo we really could feel that we were entering another world, our own.

Besides, just a few hundred meters down the narrow road was the charming village of Otadai, filled with dear hearts and gentle people. Some of them lived close to our site. We were not totally isolated.

In the other direction the road went for miles along a high narrow ridge, with deeply forested slopes falling away on either side, till it eventually came out at the Mamenbara temple area with its famous ajisai (hydrangea) garden hillsides.

There had to be some catch, I reckoned. Such attractive land could not possibly be going so cheaply.

(I had yet to realise that for most Japanese this kind of land had zero attraction.)

(And like most other foreigners I also had the usual prejudices about it being almost impossible for foreigners to own land in Japan, rural land especially - that the rules and regulations were designed specifically to keep us foreigners at bay.)

But sure enough, there in front of me were the documents proving that when we put down our money we would well and truly become the owners of this small piece of Japanese paradise.

To discover that as a foreigner with only a temporary visa I had exactly the same rights as any Japanese to own and develop my own little piece of land, and that all this could be done with little more than a stroke of the pen - or rather the thump of an inkan (seal) - was a revelation.

It was also to do much to force me to examine many of the other myths about alleged anti-foreign exclusiveness in Japan.


For months I used to gaze at the small, pencilled-in patch on the large-scale area map that showed roughly the land I had bought. As a total foreigner I had actually come to own a small piece of Japan, a nation which I liked and with which I was already deeply involved.

Only after many years, and many Chiba land purchases later, could I shake off the surprise.

Finding Funds

True, the money had not come easily. I had already had some heavy house-developing expenses in Tokyo.

Fortunately, I had just made 3 million yen anyway, from an outfit called Academy Shuppan, for writing a small booklet for them saying small children could easily learn two languages simultaneously.

(The company was being bitterly criticised by conservatives for its efforts to sell English language listening materials to the parents of small children. Its sales pitch said that one's children would be permanently handicapped in the education race if parents did not spend large amounts of money to have the children begin learning English early.)

(The conservatives were saying the minds of the young children would be permanently damaged if they began to learn English while they were still trying to master Japanese.)

(I was supposed to rebut the conservatives, and use the experience of my own children to prove the point, something that anyone who has seen small bilingual and trilingual children in other societies can do easily .)

(What Academi Shuppan should have been criticised for was gross-overcharging. Later I was to give Academia Shuppan a much better idea for making money.)

(I told them their real market was adults, not small children. And they could tap that market easily, by creating a set of tapes recording an mystery story written in simple English, and market it together with the text - a novel idea in those days.)

(They did just that. The English-illiterate owner of the company caught a plane to New York, got Sidney Sheldon to write the story, Orson Welles to record it, and has been making a fortune ever since.)

(Even today, Japanese print media are plastered constantly with their half to full page ads for that and a few other sets of the company's listening story tapes.)

( I should have received a lot more than 3 million yen from them for that lucrative idea.)



And so it came to pass that thanks of the accident of visiting some useless Kujukuri land, I was to make the first step to organizing for myself a very different life in Japan.

But there were still quite a few more accidents waiting to happen.

Cultivating the Wilderness

For the next few years that little patch of Yoro Keikoku paradise came to dominate our lives.

Fridays saw us waiting impatiently for the chance to make yet another of our regular weekend trips out there, even though it would involve a three hour marathon journey by train, bus and foot in one direction, and another three hour journey back.

We would take the Uchibo train from Tokyo to Goi, then transfer to the tiny Kominato-sen train for a long ride down through the heart of the peninsula to the Yoro Keikoku station, then by bus to the Oikawa village near the head of the gorge, and then finally by foot up the steep hill on the other side of Oikawa, past Otadai village, before we could reach the hidden entrance path to our land.

But all that simply added to the anticipation of seeing how our tiny vegetable crops were growing and the seasons were changing.

(We had to go by train, bus and foot since mainly for ideological reasons. I had refused to buy a car. I had seen how in Moscow the use of public transport had helped give the society a sense of community. Foolish idealism made me think the same could happen in vast, cosmopolitan, busy Tokyo.)

(Like King Canute, I would single-handedly stop the flood of automobilisation in Japan.)

Having finally arrived, we would then set about killing bugs and planting more vegetables, with the children left to play among the thick bamboo we were trying to clear. At night we would all sleep together on the floor of the little six-mat prefab hut we had had built for us on the edge of the steep slopes.

With its outdoor campfire, primitive toilet and roof-supplied rain water buckets, it was our tiny palace looking out over endless green horizons and the changes in the seasons.

Surprisingly, Yasuko went along with all this. Usually Japanese women flee at the first hint of jungle, bugs and primitive living. But she came quickly to love it as much as I did.

However the Yoro Keikoku adventure was to lead me to quite a few other land purchase and development adventures in the Boso area. Persuading Yasuko that this was a good idea was much harder, and she could have been right.

Boso land development was to take many hours, even years, when I could have and maybe should have been doing other things. More on that later.

Life in the Faster Lane

Meanwhile life in Tokyo was changing greatly, and in ways that made our primitive Boso existence seem even more unreal.

The lecture circuit was building up to a one a day affair. Requests to write for a range of top publications began to pour in. I was having to get used to the idea of being semi-famous.

Kodansha, a leading publisher, had arranged for me to do a taidan (dialogue) book with an up-and-coming rightwing Japanese celebrity, Takemura Kenichi.

Takemura’s favorite message to his devoted audiences was to say that what was commonsense (joshiki) in Japan was non-commonsense (hi-joshiki) in the outside world. My ‘tribe’ theory slotted in to all this neatly, even if our world views differed greatly.

Kodansha hired a room for us in a luxury hotel. For two days we were fed, wined and listened to while we talked into a tape-recorder. A first-rate Kodansha editor, Suzuki Satoru, then pulled our disconnected ramblings into a neat little 190 page paperback in the Gendai Shinsho series.

Titled Yuniiku no Nihonjin — Unique Japanese - the book was to go through 18 printings and sell something like 160,000 copies, far more than the original Japanese Tribe book from Simul (though Simul, like most Japanese publishers, never gave me full sales figures, or royalties).

(It had been partly the disagreement over royalties that had stopped me from wanting to publish the English language version of the original book through Simul.)

Soon the requests to join Japanese policy making and advisory committees began to flow in.

That too was to be a very time-consuming, but highly educational, affair.

The Japanese Policy Committee

The first invitation was to a committee set up by then Prime Minister, Ohira Masayoshi (with whom I had had contacts as a journalist, and whom I respected as an intelligent humanist and one of the more liberal-minded LDP politicians).

It was supposed to discuss Ohira’s favorite concept of the garden-town (denen toshi kaihatsu) to replace Japan's ugly urban sprawl.

I knew little about town-planning (though I was later to be put on to several other development-planning committees where I could develop a few ideas — Odaiba in Tokyo, Makuhari in Chiba and Mirai 21 in Yokohama.)

(In each case I had tried fairly fruitlessly to make Japan’s one-tracked planners realise that these developments needed a resident population to succeed and that the valuable sea front land should be devoted to high class high-rise condominiums rather than warehouses and parks which no one wanted to visit.)

(Town-planning is not one of Japan’s strengths, and yet another major difference with China, or with most of the rest of the world for that matter.)

(It has something to do with weak spatial ability, yet another of the many similarities between Japanese culture and the alleged nature of female psychology.)

(Japanese do much better when they concentrate on small details, and let their towns and villages develop slowly and naturally.)

But in the Ohira committee my lack of expertise did not seem to matter very much. There were quite a few others who knew even less than I did.

Next to me was the professor of monkey studies from Kyoto University. His contacts with the simian species were supposed to have given him insights into the formulas needed for successful human communal living.

(The Japanese are fascinated by monkey societies. The rise and fall of boss monkeys in the main zoo colonies used to make newspaper headlines, together with detailed analyses of the personality factors that create boss monkey success.)

(Quietly asserted leadership qualities, and support from female monkeys in the colony, were duly noted.)

The Ohira committee invitation was to be followed by many more. Eventually there would be requests from almost every Ministry or agency of policy-making importance in Japan.

At last count there were 43 of them (the full list can be seen in the Biography/CV on this website).

Virtually the only outfit to ignore me was the Foreign Ministry (MFA).

The MFA people naturally enough did not like my persistent media attacks on their contrived Northern Territories claims against Moscow.

I was to be well and truly blacklisted by them, and also by their subsidiary, the Japan Foundation, even though in the early days the Foundation had gone out of its way to befriend me and publicise my Japan Tribe theory.

(In 2002 however I would be invited to join a private advisory committee for Tanaka Makiko during her brief spell as Foreign Minister that year.)

( Makiko too was to fall foul of MFA’s incurably elitist, pro-US, hawkish bias, largely because she tried to push foreign policy in a more pro-Asian direction and had uncovered a swamp of petty corruption in MFA accounts.)

But no matter. My contacts elsewhere in the bureaucracy were to keep me busy enough.

Committee Games

The proliferation of committees is one of Japan’s stranger phenomena.

It owes much to Japan's much-mentioned consensus ethic - to the way bureaucrats and politicians like to appear to appeal to public opinion before they hand down new policies.

And to some extent, in the postwar years when Japan was a much humbler and poorer society, and the wartime sense of national community still lingered, this search for consensus was fairly genuine.

Public opinion polls were frequent. When the public turned critical, the bureaucrats listened. There was a genuine effort to promote the national interest and to have Japan regain its position in the world.

Today much of this has changed. Tribe-minded bureaucrats and politicians are in control .

Preserving the territory and interests of one’s own ministry or faction has become the primary aim. The national interest is often irrelevant.

(Many in the West were fooled by Chalmers Johnson book 'MITI and Japan's Economic Miracle' written in the wake of this earlier, humbler period. It did much to create the image of dedicated Japanese bureaucrats devoted to the national interest and whose strong control from the top was the key to Japan’s successful economic growth.)

(Today, some have come to realise that bureaucratic and political tribalism and lack of strong control from the top is a major factor hindering Japan's successful progress.)

But if anything, this tribal downsizing made the bureaucrats and politicians feel even more need to create policy-advising committees, to prove they were still in touch with the national consensus.

The routine is now well established. First you find a collection of so-called yushiki-keikensha - ‘knowledgeable and experienced people’ - to serve as 'experts' on the committee. These 'experts' are people who, with one or two exceptions, can be expected to agree totally with what you want to have approved.

Then you call them together for a much-publicized opening meeting covered intensively by the media.

As the faces of the 'experts' flash across the nation's TV screens that evening, the public is encouraged to believe that the bureaucrats and politicians really are trying to come up with policies that are best for Japan.

Then follows a dozen or so two hour meetings (this time largely ignored by the media) where detailed briefing materials are supplied and read out at length, as if the rest of us cannot read.

By the time the reading out is finished there is usually little time for more than a few desultory remarks among the members, followed by some discussion about the date for the next meeting.

The committee will then eventually approve a final report, prepared by bureaucrats, and recommending precisely the policies that the bureaucrats wanted from the beginning to have approved. Often those reports are prepared in draft even before the committees get underway.

(One of my worst experiences was on an Education Ministry committee, set up allegedly to discuss ways for improving the teaching of English in Japan.)

(Some of the members were people who, like me, realised the harm being done by bad teaching in the high schools. I little difficulty persuading these more enlightened members that Japan should cut back on high school teaching so it could concentrate on teaching English in the universities where proper facilities could be provided, among many other advantages.)

(The final report said exactly the opposite — that high school study of English, which previously had in theory been sentaku 'elective' should now be made compulsory.)

(When I queried the bureaucrats about how they could produce a report that did not even mention our discussion of the university option, they blandly said that from the beginning the committee had been set up to endorse compulsory high school teaching and it would be ‘inconvenient’ — their word for it - even to mention anything else.)

(At the final meeting, attended by the Education Minister, Nakasone Hirofumi, the bureaucrats turned very chilly indeed when I got up to say that the State had no right to force its citizens to subject themselves to three years of a mistaken education which in most cases would guarantee they would never be able to speak English properly.)


Committees, and the Role of the Foreigner

How do I, as a foreigner, get involved in all these committees, some of which, in theory at least, are supposed to discuss questions of important national policy?

I too still wonder. But there is what I call the lubra theory.

When they set up their committees the organisers like to recruit not just the ‘experts,’ but a few others also, to show that they really have tapped into a broad cross-section of the society.

Often some notable from the sporting or artistic world will be included. I once sat through ten entire sessions with a sumo wrestler who did little more than grunt.

Then when the female emancipation mood of the seventies got underway, the demand was for at least one female to be on any committee.

I once spent the best part of a year on a MITI committee that was supposed to consider global economic policies and which included a rather attractive lady haiku person who did little more than look demure for the all the time we were in session.


Then with the onset of the ‘internationalisation’ (kokusaika) boom of the eighties, there was also the demand for a foreigner or two to be appointed to committees.

(It reminded me of Canberra in the Whitlam years when the political correctness said the voices of the infirm, the female, the aborigines and the non-heterosexual should all be heard in the corridors of power.)

(The ideal candidate for a Whitlam committee was said to be a one-legged lesbian lubra.)

(Note: a lubra is a female aborigine person.)

I lack lubra qualifications. But as a Japanese-speaker attached to the well-known Sophia university, and, more importantly, generally free during day time hours, I was an obvious choice as available foreigner at the time.

Inside the Committees

Why did I go along with all this? For one thing it gave me a good inside view of the bureaucratic and political process in action.

It also told me a lot about the personalities of the ‘experts’ being appointed to the committees. Most were highly conservative, and some quite influential in molding Japanese popular opinion.

As well, the materials prepared for these committees were often useful for my own research.

Some were even marked secret. Amazingly, the Japanese organizers seemed not to worry about a foreigner reading their secrets.

(One reason is that until very recently, Japan had none of the secrecy mania that infects Western societies. Another is more tribal)

(As a member of the committee I had automatically become a member of the Ministry’s little world, separate from the rest of Japan, and entitled to know its secrets.)

But only rarely could this humble foreigner exert any influence on deliberations and reports.

On a Finance Ministry trade policy committee during the trade frictions of the early eighties, myself and the economist, Hosomi Takashi, tried hard to suggest that rather than let the US impose threatened surcharges on Japanese imports, Japan should impose export taxes - particularly since its currency at the time was heavily undervalued.

That way Japan would get the money, and not the US. It would also show some sincerity about wanting to ease the frictions. And it would help Japan escape the damage that would inevitably result when the pressure from continued trade surpluses eventually forced severe yen appreciation.

That pressure was to arrive sooner than expected, with the Plaza Accords of the mid-eighties.

But for the Japanese at the time, taxing exports was like taxing motherhood. It also involved having deliberately to create policies which were bound to be unpopular with someone or other (a no-no in the consensus society.

Worse, they would be based on cold logic — another no-no in a society that prefers its decisions to be on the basis of feelings, mood and shikata-ga-nai (it can’t be helped) inevitability.

Far better to leave the responsibility to the US and appear to be a victim of arbitrary fate, even if this caused far more loss to Japan in the long run.

My and Hosomi's intervention ended up as a small and quickly ignored para in the final report.

Eventually Washington did decide to move. The Plaza Accords were one result. Another was the decision to impose quantitative restrictions on the car imports that were doing such damage to the US car industry.

Tokyo protested violently, and Japanese car makers complained bitterly over the way they were forced to establish the car plants in the US to circumvent the restrictions.

But later, when those US car plants saved Japan’s car makers from serious losses as the yen moved remorselessly to close to 80 to the dollar, Toyota, Nissan and company forgot about their initial kicking and screaming.

They were congratulating themselves on their wisdom in setting up those plants in the US.

(I had to chuckle to myself when Beijing in 2004 had no problem deciding quickly to impose export taxes on the textiles flooding into the US market and harming US producers, rather than wait for protective US tariffs to be imposed.)

(It was a perfect real-life example of the difference between Chinese rationalism and Japanese emotionalism, though the totalitarian nature of the Chinese regime also would have helped the decision.)

Other committee interventions were similarly ineffective.

On a government economic policy shingikai (top advisory committee) to which I had been appointed by the then finance minister, Miyazawa Kiiichi, I was able to get a para the final report recognising the harm the trade surpluses were causing to foreign trade partners and would eventually cause to Japan.

But it was immediately contradicted in the next para (inserted by Keiichi Konaga, a MITI man) claiming the trade surpluses were good for Japan and the world.

The one concrete result I can claim credit for was on a rather strange committee set up to chose a new symbol mark for Tokyo. I had the casting vote, and was able to vote in favor of the rather neat green leaf symbol we see today, rather than the complicated mess that had emerged from a disturbed artistic mind.

True, when it came to education matters Iwas to have more success.

In one committee I not only got recommendations into final reports, but even managed to get some of them partially implemented.

That was on a committee set up in 1999 by the then prime minister, Obuchi Keizo (The National Consultative Commission on Education Reform).

My recommendations included the idea of provisional entry to universities for those who were close to the passing grades in entrance exams, and the right for bright students to enter universities at age 17 rather than wait till the compulsory 18.

(The former idea was picked up by a few universities, including the Akita International University to which I was later attached.)

(The law of the land was even changed to accommodate the latter idea. University entrance age, which by law had been set at 18 was formally reduced to 17, thanks in part to the influence of a bright LDP politician called Machimura who was also on the committee and liked my idea.)

(But the wretched Education Ministry - which had long been strongly opposed - managed to make it a dead letter by attaching impossible conditions.)

In short, the many hours spent sitting around those long, cloth-covered committee tables were not entirely wasted. But they were always peripheral to what had become my main preoccupation, and source of income, namely Japan’s amazing lecture circuit.

And superimposed on all that was what supposed to be my real career in Japan — teaching at a university.

Scholastic Pretensions

At Sophia I had been made professor at two areas— the Faculty of Economics and the International Division ( now known as the Faculty of Comparative Culture).

This meant two lecture schedules, two different sets of faculty committees to attend, two different sets of academic intrigues to cope with, and two very different languages in which to operate.

Meanwhile the non-university lecture circuit was also building up.

The strain was substantial — particularly when the economics faculty asked me to give lectures, in Japanese, to vast halls of bored students taking basic economics courses.

After about three years of this purgatory, I was suddenly told that in future I should confine myself to the International Division position.

Maybe they did not like my amateurish efforts to lecture on economics in Japanese. More likely, I suspect, they did not like a foreigner being involved in the intense faction fights racking the faculty in those days.

Either way, the relief was substantial.

At the International Division life was much easier. Teaching was in English, to mainly foreign students. The lecture burden was light, and could be concentrated into one or two days of the week.

Faction fights and boring faculty meetings could be ignored or bypassed.

Lecture Circuit Refinements

Meanwhile the lecture circuit was grinding on.

Looking back, it was an extraordinary affair — close to 3000 lectures, an average of at least three a week, to audiences of every type and size, all around Japan, continuously for well over 20 years.

And when one is giving much the same lecture to much the same audiences, day after day, month after month, even an initially poor speaker such as myself begins to learn something about speaking, and about Japanese audiences.

First lesson was that audiences are much more sensitive they you realise. They sense very quickly, even if you don’t, whether you are at ease with your subject.

From the moment you walk onto the podium they are watching you closely. You have to show full confidence. You have to create rapport. And you have to maintain it for an hour and half — the normal time span of lectures in Japan.

You are not allowed to flag in the middle. The moment the audience senses even the slightest hesitation or doubt, they switch off. It is hard to recapture them.

But once captured they will listen, well and continuously. And the interest is both intelligent and engaged. Reactions to strong points and jokes are good indicators.

Western, and to some extent Chinese audiences, will listen if the subject is interesting. But most will show some quizzical doubt at times. The Japanese audiences try hard and continuously to show agreement, even when you are saying something that might contradict their beliefs.

If all goes well you are rewarded with an immense psychological high. It is as if you have managed, single-handedly, standing on an isolated podium, to elevate an entire audience, sometimes several thousand people, and hold them there.

One begins to realise how dictators come to love oratory.

In my case it was not so much oratory. Part of my attraction was the fact that I was a foreigner — a talking dog (to recapitulate, why did people pay money to listen to the talking dog? Not because of anything the dog was saying, but because the dog was able to talk.)

(A foreigner talking in Japanese was a major draw-card for many.)

But partly there was also some interest in what I was saying. For the most part I was putting out ideas new to most of the audience.

And partly because I had mastered that art of what I call ‘the Japanese joke.’

Jokes or humorous asides in speeches are taken for granted, demanded even, in the West. Not so in Japan.

Most Japanese speakers take themselves very seriously. Either they don’t know any jokes, or else they feel that delivering them detracts from their status as the esteemed sensei handing down wisdom to the masses.

Needless to say, as a stray foreigner wandering the country there was no way I could have such pretensions. I was more than happy to use jokes, if I could find them.

Sponsors and audiences would then tell me repeatedly how much they appreciated this, as if telling jokes was some quality quite unexpected in a university professor.

How do you find jokes? Often you are saying something you do not think is very funny but the audience bursts out laughing.

You try the same thing on the next audience, and they too burst out laughing. Then you know you have discovered a ‘Japanese joke.’

Usually they are very simple affairs with little of the ironic subtlety of Western jokes.

I ended up with a few dozen of these ‘jokes.’ Scattered throughout the standard 90 minute speech, they proved to be perfect attention-getters.

Another quality for which I was sometimes praised by sponsors, but of which I was hardly aware, was the ability to handle pauses (ma). For some reason ma are very important for Japanese listeners.

Maybe it was a result of my being confident of my topic and audience (I should have been after delivering much the same speech several thousand times).

Finally, and I guess this goes without saying, the easiest way to hold an audience — any audience, but particularly a Japanese audience - is to speak from the heart.

I could do that most of the time because I was genuinely interested in my subject — namely, the differences between the Japanese and us non-Japanese, and the reasons for those differences.

A popular lecturer around Japan was Hayasaka Shigezo, former secretary to Tanaka Kakuei. Tanaka retained enormous popularity despite the rather squalid but successful efforts by Bungei Shunju and the foreign correspondents in Tokyo to have him removed from office back in 1974 (long before the Lockheed scandal incidentally).

To show Tanaka-style sincerity at emotional moments, Hayasaka would remove his shirt, jump up and down, and sweat profusely. The audiences loved it.

I could not compete with him. But before good audiences — school teachers were the best — it was not hard for me to get deeply involved in what I wanted to say.

Sometimes I could even draw tears - for example, using a topic like Japan’s obstinate reluctance to allow organ transplants and so forcing numbers of Japanese children to go abroad for operations, with the result that foreign children would possibly miss out on needed transplants, as an example of Japan’s closed mentality.

And thanks to the lecture circuit I got to be a lot better at saying what I wanted to say. The pressure of standing on a podium and trying to communicate forces one constantly to rethink and expand ideas. Discussions and questions also helped.

Thanks to all that, I was able to refine my original ‘tribe’ theory of Japan into something a lot simpler and a lot more sophisticated than the original.


More on that in the next chapter. ...


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