PART TWO—
THE FAMILY AND OTHER SOCIAL SYSTEMS
Chapter IV—
The Consumer's "Bright New Life"
For the rest of Japan the people who have been able to become salary men are symbols of the akarui seikatsu (bright new life), the life with leisure time, travel and recreation, and few binding obligations and formalities. Because he has security from the firm he may steadily acquire the new consumer goods without fear of being without income and going into debt. For the person who aspires to be a salary man, the bright new life is indeed a rosy picture. For the salaried family each glamorous new purchase is the result of careful planning and many sacrifices. To an affluent American, the bright new life appears orderly but ascetic, and he finds it hard to share the anticipation with which the Japanese salaried family awaits each new acquisition.
Before the war, electricity, the sewing machine, irons, and the radio were already widespread, but all other electric equipment, like refrigerators, heaters, toasters, washing machines, fans, and the like, which had spread through the United States and Europe in prewar days, have become common in Japan only in the last decade. In the immediate postwar period, Mamachi residents, like other Japanese, were concerned with getting the barest necessities of food and shelter. They were accustomed to great economic deprivations, to long food lines, to trips to the country for food. Even their beloved small flower beds and rock gardens were turned into vegetable patches. In the last decade, this picture has changed drastically. Large numbers of machines which formerly they had seen only in foreign films were imported, and later, as Japanese business began to recognize the importance of the consumer market, they were produced at home. The excitement of the consumer has been enormous. These new goods were at first available only to the wealthy, but now
they are within the reach of the average salary man. Mamachi residents relate with pleasure how they first saw the machines and how they heard about them. They still tell funny stories about the mistakes and misunderstandings in their first attempts to use them, and they talk with great delight of their most recent purchases.
Only partly in jest, Mamachi families talk about wanting the "Three Imperial Treasures," by which they do not mean the three treasures which are traditionally handed down in the Imperial Household (jewel, sword, and mirror) but three new pieces of electrical equipment. Indeed, those who get machines for the first time behave almost as if they were acquiring the Imperial Treasures, and the enthusiasm remains even while the content of the list changes as former treasures become more widely available. Several years ago listings might have included TV sets and electric rice cookers, but newer ones might include a refrigerator or an electric washing machine.[1] The same kind of enthusiasm is shown for the latest models of cameras, transistor radios, hi-fi equipment, electric heating devices, and the newest clothes styles from abroad. Garbage-disposal and central-heating units and dishwashing machines are still almost unknown, and cars still are too expensive for the typical salary man. While all Mamachi families have had running water for many years, other modern plumbing facilities like flush toilets and sewers, already common in some areas of Tokyo, have not yet reached Mamachi.
As yet these families have little critical judgment in making their new purchases. For example, a family buying its first refrigerator probably would not look into the number of cubic feet, the size of the freezer unit, or the location of the door handle, as long as it was produced by a "big maker." Japanese advertising reflects a lack of critical public judgment, for it includes almost no details. Many Japanese consider it bad manners to ask a salesman many detailed questions and then not purchase a product. Now consumers generally are interested only in the appearance, the price, and the meekaa (maker), but critical standards of judgment are beginning
[1] In a national survey in 1959, 72 percent of city wives had sewing machines, 97 percent radios, 44 percent washing machines, 40 percent TV, 28 percent refrigerators, and 6 percent electric vacuum cleaners. In Mamachi, with a higher standard of living, the percentages would be much higher.
to develop rapidly as people acquire experience using various products.
The Ordered Life
Because the salary man's income is limited, he has been relatively slow but steady in acquiring new goods. Since future income can be accurately predicted, he can plan when he will be able to afford what machine. He knows that on his limited salary he cannot hope to acquire all desirable machines, but he adjusts his expectations to his salary and hence is never subject to serious disappointments. His salary is even more predictable than that of his American counterpart whose salary may rise appreciably with new assignments or with a change in companies. To a family which has lived through such serious disruptions as depression, war, acute shortages, and spiraling inflation, living according to plan seems highly desirable. The salary man thus develops a measured optimism, and, under present circumstances, there is every reason to expect that his limited dreams will come true.
Long-Range Planning
Since these salaried men, in contrast to farmers or businessmen, do not depend on inheritance for their livelihood, they usually do not worry about saving money to pass on to children, but if they do not plan carefully they may lack even the necessities after retirement. In less extreme cases, planning can make the difference between a miserable and a moderately comfortable existence, a difference more crucial than the distinction between shades of comfort one would have in the more affluent America. On the small income of the salary man, every bit of savings requires sacrifice.
In rural Japan, where one child usually is designated as the heir, he naturally assumes the responsibility of caring for his parents in their old age. But in Mamachi filial responsibility is not so clearly assigned, and many parents want to be financially independent in their old age in order to avoid feeling a burden on their children and to prevent conflicts with daughters-in-law or sons-in-law.
Since retirement from most large companies and government offices is at fifty-five or sixty, since retirement benefits are minimal, and since a man at fifty-five can expect to live about eighteen more
years, families try hard to put aside savings for old age. This is often difficult because of the expense of educating the children. If, for example, the bread earner is thirty-two when his last child is born and supports this child through college to the age of twenty-three, the bread earner may be retiring the same year the child finishes college. This means that while some families may attempt to save for old age, they may have to choose between the children's educational expenses and savings for retirement.
Education is the primary goal and major expense for most families. While children who attend college live at home and commute, admission fees and tuition can be fairly high, and the expenses of food, transportation, and incidentals through college years require planning. One advantage of having a bright child is that he can qualify for a public school and public university, which are inexpensive but of high quality. Indeed, while sending a child to private school is a possibility for salary families, it requires serious sacrifices. The entrance fee and one year tuition at an acceptable private university may be as much as a third of the annual salary of a typical middle-aged salary man. Since many of these families try to send their children to private junior and senior high schools as well as to college, education imposes a financial burden especially if there are several children. While the father's salary will be higher in middle age, he still must budget carefully.
Educational expenses are also likely to occur about the time when a girl is given in marriage. In rural areas, a large dowry, perhaps equivalent to several years of the family's earnings, was usually given to the bride to take with her when she married. Since she ordinarily received no inheritance, a daughter's dowry, in effect, constituted her inheritance. In spite of the fact that salaried families have reduced the amounts given to a bride, still they are expected to cover a large part of the marriage costs. They also are expected to give their daughter enough new clothing to last many years and enough furniture to set up a household. Although part of these expenses will be covered by the gift of money from the groom at the time of engagement, most of the expenses must be met by the bride's family. Since relatively little furniture is required in a Japanese home, furniture may include only a chest of drawers, bedding, linens, a table, cooking equipment, dishes, silverware, and perhaps a sewing
machine and other electrical appliances. Sometimes the bride's family may not give the furniture at the time of marriage, but promise to give it when the young couple is able to buy a home several years later. The husband is expected to pay for everything else and for current living expenses from his own salary. The wife ordinarily does not work after marriage or, at the latest, after her first child is born. It is true that some "modern" couples originally introduced through friends at work or school will set up a household more inexpensively with almost no help from their families, but most parents in Mamachi still try to have enough money to supply the furniture and clothing which their daughter will need to begin housekeeping.
Virtually no homes in Mamachi are for rent, so that couples unable to make the down payment on a house are likely to rent in Tokyo and move to Mamachi a few years later. Before large apartment projects were developed, it was more common for a newly married couple to live at the home of one of the parents for a few years or perhaps even in housing provided by their company until they were able to afford a down payment on their own home.
Mamachi homes are generally constructed inexpensively of wood so that a middle-class family can build a comfortable house for four or five thousand dollars. A public agency provides standard loans for seventeen years' duration if the couple can make a down payment of about one-third. This payment may be the equivalent of about two years of the husband's salary, and may take many years to accumulate. Immediately after the war, war damage, the lack of wartime home construction, and the return of soldiers and citizens living overseas, created housing shortages and considerable movement from one household to another. Although the acute housing shortage in the immediate post-war period has eased, the lack of availability of good housing often requires several moves on the part of a young couple until they find adequate facilities. Once a family makes a down payment on a home, they are likely to live in the same home all their lives. Generally they will have completed paying for the house before the beginning of the heavy expenses for the education and marriage of their children.
Thus a typical life pattern is roughly as follows: at the time of marriage a couple sets up housekeeping with the furniture provided
by the wife's family, the rent or housing facility provided by the husband or his family. In the early stage of marriage they may live in a small apartment or with in-laws while saving for a down payment on a house. Having made this payment, they then begin saving for their children's education, for their daughter's dowry, and for their own retirement.
The general pattern of savings may be similar to that of the American middle class, but the difficulty in obtaining loans and saving enough money to meet later expenses, the early retirement age, and the small size of stipends after retirement, all require the Mamachi family to be more cautious in spending, to plan more carefully, and to put aside a comparatively larger proportion of savings.
During the inflation immediately after the war, savings that had required years of sacrifice were reduced to virtual worthlessness. At that time people tried to save by buying stock, real estate, or durable goods. In the last few years, however, with the stabilization of the value of the yen, families have been increasingly willing to save money. Many families deposit small amounts into post-office savings accounts or banks, and purchase stocks of real estate only if they accumulate sizeable sums.
Short-Range Planning
Generally budgeting is on a monthly basis since the husband receives his pay monthly. The monthly pay is usually divided into three parts, one for the husband to use for spending money, one for the wife to use for the household, the children, and herself, and one for savings. An average husband may be allotted perhaps ten dollars or so (with a buying power perhaps comparable to twenty or thirty dollars in the United States) for all monthly expenses. In addition he may be entitled to a small expense account because of his position in the company.
By far the largest part of the monthly income, however, is managed by the wife. Even if she does not keep a budget, she will have some idea how much money is left at various stages during the month, and she may cut down expenses toward the end of the month if she sees she is running short. She will purchase most food items from the same places with little variation from day to day.
Most wives use little, if any, of their money for their own pleasure. In addition to household expenses, they must provide for the children's school supplies, school lunches, clothing, and spending money. Most salaried families cannot afford a maid, but if they have one, the household account will be used to pay her salary.
Except for "modern" young people, most couples make a sharp separation between money allotted to the wife and money allotted to the husband. Although the husband may ask the wife for more money, the wife is reluctant to ask the husband for more even if she does not have enough money toward the end of the month. They rarely inquire about each other's use of small amounts of money, and in some cases, there is mutual secrecy and some deceit about the amount of money spent. Not every wife knows exactly the amount of her husband's income. While she knows approximately how much he makes, he may not tell her the precise amount of his bonuses. Similarly the wife, though generally honest and forthright to her husband, may not tell her husband precisely for what she is using money and may even overstate some of the household expenses in order to have some extra money. Especially if the husband frequently asks her for spending money, the wife may put aside a small amount telling him she is already out of money when in fact she has a little available. Many a wife feels so dependent on her husband for money and subject to his whims, that she feels it necessary to hide a little money from him. This practice makes it possible for her to get by for a short time in case of marital difficulties, or, more commonly, buy something on which her husband is reluctant to spend money.
These minor deceptions are used at times to increase the area of financial freedom, but generally the couple plans together for major purchases. They may even consult with their children and neighbors. When children are small, they may go together on Sunday to a department store shopping for pleasure items as an entire family.
Almost all salary men receive sizeable bonuses twice a year which may total as much as from two to six months of the husband's total salary. The regular smaller monthly salary serves to limit regular expenditures, and the large bonuses, in effect, constitute a forced savings which the families then use to buy larger items of equipment or put into savings. Yet planning and saving are so heavily
ingrained in their outlook that one has the feeling that most of them would be saving even without the bonus system.[2]
The Limits of Frugality
Although Mamachi residents look at their habits simply as customs, in comparison to America, many seem to be the epitome of frugality. For example, in the home the same room will be used both in the daytime and at night, eliminating the necessity for separate living and bedrooms. Generally the mattresses for the bedding are kept in a closet and pulled out at night. A table used in the daytime can be folded up at night to make room for the bedding. Using cushions and bedding on the floor obviously is cheaper than the beds, chairs, and davenports that Western families must buy. Since company is usually greeted only in one room, simple and less expensive materials can be used in the "family rooms" which receive the greatest wear. Fuel is conserved by heating only the immediate sitting area in only the coldest months. When bath water is heated, the same tub of water is used for the entire family (sometimes including nearby relatives), everyone having cleaned himself with a small pail of water before getting in the tub. Paint is rarely used even on the outside of wooden houses. Some kitchens still have dirt floors, no houses have basements, and all houses have very simple foundations. In the more modern homes, a kitchen containing modern electrical equipment may become a display room open to guests, but in most houses the kitchen facilities are crude and closed to guests.
By Western standards the amount and quality of food are inadequate. Rice is the main dish in a way that no dish is the main dish in the West. To overstate the case slightly, it is eaten in such quantities that all other food is used for flavoring. Fish is available in abundance and variety and is used to flavor the rice. Small fish bones are eaten, providing needed calcium. Since virtually no spices are used, soy sauce and many varieties of pickles are served at every meal to season the rice. Vegetables and meat are eaten with rice and in much smaller quantities than in the West. The Japanese slice meat very
[2] In Japan as in the United States, the middle class is characterized by having a very high proportion of savers. Cf. Nihon Shakai Koozoo Choosa Kai, Howaito Karaa no Ishiki Koozoo (The Structure of White-Collar Class Consciousness), Tokyo, March, 1962 (mimeographed), p. 232.
thin, and it is no accident that they use the word "roast" to mean simply high-quality meat, since they never cook the large cuts served in the West. Various kinds of inexpensive seaweeds are often eaten. Bean paste and bean curd are used with other relatively inexpensive items for making soups. Fruits although used daily are still considered somewhat of a luxury. Milk is drunk primarily by children or sick people although milk products are increasingly available. Imported drinks, such as coffee, which are expensive by Japanese standards are used by most salary men in limited quantity for special occasions. Daily shopping for fresh fish and vegetables is the rule. Most families own small wooden ice boxes for short-term food preservation, but freezers and once-a-week shopping expeditions are unknown.
Many services which one must pay for in the West are in Japan performed by friends without charge. A person staying overnight in another city usually will stay with a friend or a friend of a friend, unless he is traveling on an expense account. When seeking a job, getting personal counseling, or seeking a special technical connection, one is likely to get help from friends rather than to go to an official agency. Although private detectives (to provide personal information, especially regarding employment and marriage) and real estate agencies are still widespread, one feels safer and saves money if the services are performed by friends. When one wants to use a public facility, such as a meeting hall to entertain guests, it is often possible to get a big discount through friends. Some people will call upon a rich friend to help them entertain guests. A wealthy man may feel honored or at least honor-bound to assist, and the person making the request shows his appreciation by various favors. When he gives a present in return for a favor, it need not be expensive. An expensive but tasteless present would be insulting, for it would imply paying off a favor of friendship with money. Rather, it is expected that one show considerable kindness and thoughtfulness by giving a present or memento with style and grace. Photographs may be sent after a get-together as one way of showing appreciation. A favorite gift is some special product brought back from another part of Japan or from abroad. A family with an obligation to a neighbor may have their son buy famous local products for them on his school trip. The Mamachi resident feels that the trouble
one goes to in bringing something back from a distant place is an indication of how appreciative one is. Indeed, almost every corner of Japan has some famous local product, and since so many children in these families go to distant places for school trips, guests are often treated to local delicacies, and houses are filled with such famous local products. In whatever way favors are returned, it will emphasize feelings of personal appreciation rather than money, and for large favors one will feel a long-term obligation.
In addition to the frugal use of double-duty household facilities and to obtaining free services from go-betweens and friends, various customs serve to conserve possessions. Shoes are not worn inside the house since they bring in dirt and mar the floors. Only stockinged feet or bare feet are permitted on the straw mats which are swept every day. These mats can be re-covered once every year or two, but even a replacement is not expensive. Covers are used for all items of furniture including the cushions one sits on. The most valuable dolls are kept in glass cases and may be preserved for more than one generation. Television sets, electric toasters, and other appliances come with covers which are carefully placed over the equipment when not in use. Machines are not discarded so long as they can be repaired. Even paperback books come with extra covers, and hardback books are sold with a protecting cardboard box as well as a thin paper cover. At home and even for neighborhood shopping, the wife wears a white apron which covers not only the skirt as in the West but her blouse and sleeves as well. The child going to nursery school wears an apron as part of the uniform so that his regular clothes will not get dirty. Children of grade school age wear shorts and long stockings even in thirty or forty degree winter weather. While the families regard this simply as a custom, the wearing of shorts does make it possible to avoid worry about patched knees. Even though the women save by doing their own sewing, it is considered embarrassing to wear in public anything that is patched. Nylon hose, however, are mended, since this mending does not show. Old clothes are worn at home, and clothes which are beyond repair are cut up and sewn to make washcloths, hot pads, and rags. Instead of buying new magazines, a Mamachi family may belong to a neighborhood club in which several members exchange magazines to split expenses, or they may buy their books or maga-
zines at second-hand magazine and book stores. Boxes which formerly contained tea or cookies are kept for storing kitchen items. Younger children may protest about wearing hand-me-downs but the pattern is still fairly widespread, particularly in families which cannot easily afford to buy new clothes. It is perfectly permissible to wear the same clothes for several days in succession, and school uniforms make it possible for a child with only one or two suits to be well dressed throughout the school year. These frugal practices make it possible to conserve resources and live on little income, in a manner not too different from that of a few decades ago in the United States, and in Europe today.
Rich or poor, the Mamachi family will guard what it has. Often barbed wire is placed above the high fence, and many have a large dog to chase off possible burglars. There is a special word, rusuban, for a person who stays at home to guard the house while everybody else is away. Some houses can only be locked from the inside, and most families are unwilling to leave the house for more than a few minutes unless someone in the family or a close friend or relative stays in the house to see that nothing happens to it. Whatever the rationale surrounding the concept of rusuban, it does indicate the family's concern for conserving what it has.
By and large the new middle class is unable even to imitate the big businessman's conspicuous display of wealth: the chauffeur-driven car, membership in an expensive golf club, the use of several servants, and lavish entertaining. Elegant restaurants and geisha places in Japan are high-priced even by Western standards. Two or three hours of entertainment by geisha girls and eating out are likely to cost a hundred dollars or so for a group of only three or four, the equivalent of an average salaried person's monthly salary. Rich men display their wealth conspicuously like the nouveaux riches in America a generation or two ago when large fortunes were first accumulated.
In contrast to what William H. Whyte has called the "inconspicuous consumption" of the American organization man, the Japanese salary man and especially his wife would like to imitate the richer classes in their conspicuous display of wealth. But with their small income they can afford few flamboyant gestures. The greatest display is at a child's wedding. Although the movement to simplify
ceremonies has become stronger, it is not unusual for the parents of the bride and groom to spend an equivalent of two or three times the young husband's annual salary on the wedding, the renting of expensive clothes, sizeable gifts to all the guests, and a lavish feast.
The wife's kimonos which are worn for going out socially or for formal occasions may also cost the equivalent of several months of the young husband's salary, and even salaried men's wives may have several kimono outfits (including sash and shawl to match). Though Western-style suits vary in quality, these differences are more difficult to distinguish, and suits are relatively unimportant as items of conspicuous display. Some modern women have at least one or two dressy Western outfits which are much less expensive than the traditional kimono. Being modern and Western makes it possible for them to avoid the dilemma of either buying an expensive kimono which they cannot afford or buying an inexpensive one that looks cheap.
Although only a few families may be able to distinguish variations of quality in most items of merchandise, they all can recognize the major status labels of high class stores, and the purchase of an item with a label from Mitsukoshi or Takashimaya, or the delivery of equipment in Takashimaya or Mitsukoshi trucks, which neighbors would be certain to notice, does have a status meaning. As one man wryly commented, some of his friends will walk right by a small shop on Mamachi's main street and go into Tokyo to buy an identical item costing perhaps twice as much in order to be able to show off the Mitsukoshi label.
Since the bedding is aired outside every few days and thus is open to the neighbors' view, a Mamachi housewife generally tries to put her best quilt forward. Laundry too is aired outdoors in a neighbor's range of vision but it generally is not as crucial for determining status as, for example, a kimono, and it causes somewhat less concern.
Entertaining guests can be an important way of conspicuous status display. Generally it is considered better to entertain guests outside than in the home. It is thought that a person entertains in the home because he cannot afford to go outside. If one does entertain a guest in the house, one shows more respect for the guest by
ordering the delivery of various kinds of food from a restaurant.[3] The kinds of refreshments and the dishes on which they are served all carry implications of a certain status. Having leisure and money for flower-arranging and tea-ceremony lessons and music lessons for the children is now within the reach of the average salary man's family, and still signifies the ability to enjoy the refinements of life.
The salary man often has difficulty balancing the need for frugality with the desire for high status in the eyes of his neighbors, friends, and associates. He must be frugal yet disguise his miserliness to friends by acting as if he were willing and able to spend freely, especially for guests. The expression used to mean to reveal one's weakness or inadequacy (boro o dasu ) literally means to show one's rags. Many observers have noted that Japanese families make clear distinctions between the omote (what is open for outsiders to see) and the ura (what is not open). While there are many meanings to these expressions, one of their important functions may be to permit outward display and private frugality. One can, in a sense, have his cake and eat it too, provided one reserves the good cake for company.
The Freedom to Shop
Families have two general alternatives in making small purchases. One is to buy as steady customers in a small local shop; the other is to buy as strangers in a large establishment like a department store. Similarly, in making larger purchases, it is possible to choose between going through personal connections to arrange discounts and going to a large department store where all people will be treated equally. The confidence of getting a good buy when shopping at a local shop or when making special arrangements for a discount derives from the steady relationship between the store and the customer or between the store and an intermediary. Minor price adjustments are still sometimes made, and regular customers may be given slightly lower prices. In buying at a department store, con-
[3] This is one example where the specific customs vary by region. In the Kyoto area one does not order food from the outside for a guest. For this information I am indebted to Robert J. Smith.
fidence of receiving fair treatment derives from the name and reputation of the store. Just as the large organizations have been the first to set regular salaries, so large stores have long had a fixed-price system. But now many smaller stores are gradually moving toward fixed prices, and even strangers may be given the same price as regular customers.
A customer who goes to a place where he is known is assured of many personal considerations. He is greeted by a friend, the items are tailored to suit his wishes, purchases may be made or delivered to suit his convenience. Although department stores cannot match the personal situation, most department stores make an effort to train attractive young sales ladies to be pleasant and charming to the customers and to provide the many services of an American department store, and perhaps even more.
Going through friends who have a special contact with some manufacturer, wholesaler, or retailer has the advantage of permitting savings. Many families select their electrical appliance not on the basis of brand preferences but on the basis of personal connections enabling them to get a discount. Nearly everyone who works in a store or factory is entitled to a discount for himself or friends, and a sizeable portion of purchases are made through these discount arrangements.
But at the same time, going through friends has the disadvantage of building up obligations, and though many families continue to use friends, others are willing to pay higher prices in order to avoid being in debt to friends. Unless the saving is great, the friend is close, and the discount easily arranged, many people hesitate making requests through friends. Going through friends also limits the range of selection. Of course, one can find out the general range of supplies a seller has before accepting the introduction, but once the introduction is made, there is a strong obligation to buy. If the product turns out not to be suitable or if there has been a misunderstanding, the obligation as a result of receiving a special favor in the form of reduced prices makes it virtually impossible to make adjustments without creating some problems in the relationship with the friend. These situations are commonly known as arigata meiwaku (a favor which caused trouble). As greater discrimination in select-
ing items develops, these limitations on free choice are increasingly considered undesirable.
Going to an impersonal department store permits greater freedom in shopping. For example, most Mamachi families have Westernstyle clothes made by one tailor, since nearly all dress clothes are still tailor-made. Frequently the relationship is close, and the tailor understands what the customer wants and how to make it. But in the other cases, as the family begins to prefer styles which the tailor cannot make, their habitual loyalty declines and they begin to shop elsewhere. The same problem affects the family's relationship to other small shops. In the department stores one can look at large selections as much as one pleases with no obligation to buy, and as critical judgment grows, this is regarded as increasingly important. The old pattern of saving money by using personal relationships is still widespread, but it is slowly giving way. Even for the salaried family on a limited income it is increasingly considered worthwhile to pay a little more for the freedom to shop and avoid the obligations and possible strains resulting from purchasing through friends. Just as the salary man has come to appreciate the freedom from paternalistic restraints that come from a more contractual relationship with his place of work, so he and his wife have come to desire similar freedom from personal restraints in purchasing, a freedom that is possible on the basis of fixed prices in impersonal settings.
Chapter V—
Families View Their Government
The National Identity
The Mamachi resident unquestionably has a positive, though amorphous, attachment to his country. He feels that he shares with other Japanese a race, language, and culture which, as a result of Japan's long isolation from other countries, are distinctive. He does not lack positive sentiment about Japan, but he has difficulty finding parts of his national tradition which he can be proud of. Unlike the old middle class who have more commonly responded to Western contact by chauvinistic nationalism and a revival of tradition, most salary men are convinced that Japan must adapt its traditions to the modern age. But the problem of national identity is the problem of finding in their tradition something that is both unique and worthy of the modern age.
Some Japanese have attempted to solve this problem by arguing that Japan's superior spirituality should be combined with the West's superior material development. But for Mamachi residents, who consider much of Japanese tradition as unsophisticated, superstitious, irrational, and feudalistic, this formula is clearly inadequate. The popular mythology of Japan which was officially propagated as literal truth[1] before the war is clearly unacceptable to the scientifically trained salary man. The image of Japan expressed in the fervent nationalist indoctrination in the 1930's was probably never completely internalized by most salary men, and it is certainly incongruous with their image of present-day Japan. Today, they laugh among themselves about having memorized the names of all 124
[1] For an account of many Japanese myths, see Mock Joya, Things Japanese , Tokyo: Tokyo News Service, 1958. The stories connected with the founding of the country and the succession of divine emperors were accepted as official.
emperors when they were school children. Even the story of the founding of the country, a crucial symbol for national unity in all countries, was originally promulgated as literal truth, but has now been reduced to the status of a Shinto myth.[2]
The problem for the salary man is that since he accepts the superiority of modern science and many Western values, he has difficulty taking pride in his heritage—he is not even sure what is unique to his heritage. Unlike citizens of other countries where the definition of a nation's uniqueness has undergone continual modification through close contact with other countries, the Mamachi citizen has not had an accurate definition of what is distinctly Japanese, and he has, therefore, been less prepared for the sudden massive assault of Western culture.[3]
The Mamachi salary man is in the anomalous position of loving his country but of depreciating it on the basis of Western standards, which he increasingly accepts as his own. Just as Mamachi residents are sensitive to each other's personal evaluations, so are they sensitive to a Westerner's view of Japan. Not having firm convictions of their own about which Japanese characteristics are valuable or desirable, they are seeking the evaluations of foreigners and doing everything possible to gain their respect. In 1959–1960, during our field work, Mamachi residents were already talking about things they could do in improving Japan so it will make a good impression on foreigners when the next Olympics are held in Tokyo in 1964.
Their defeat at the end of World War II came as a crushing blow to their pride and left them without a sense of national purpose. As much as Mamachi residents resented the military rule during wartime and realize in retrospect how mistaken Japan was to embark on such an ambitious program of territorial expansion, they admit that they had shared the dreams of glory about Japan's becoming a leader of Asia and a great world power. Now, like citizens of European countries which recently have divested themselves of empire, Mamachi residents must adjust themselves to seeing their
[2] According to this myth, the grandchild of the Sun Goddess descended into Kyushu with the three sacred treasures with a heavenly blessing that Japan should prosper and endure forever.
[3] See Masao Maruyama's essays for an analysis of the problem of opening the country and other problems of the Japanese political order. (English translation published by Oxford University Press, 1963.)
nation as weaker in relative power and feeling helpless in doing much about it. The Mamachi resident is left with little sense of a national goal except to be relatively more modern or rational, and this goal seems unexciting by contrast with the dreams of glory and the superpatriotism before and during the war.
Unlike totalitarian countries, Japan is not undertaking an official rewriting of history. But an analogous process is going on in Mamachi. People have discarded much of the history as taught until the end of World War II, and are emphasizing some aspects of their history and neglecting others. They de-emphasize the entire military period of the 1930's and World War II and talk more about the great cultural accomplishments of the Nara and Heian periods, about the courage of liberal leaders in the 1920's and 1930's who fought for a modern pluralistic society; and some are beginning to see the work of Emperor Meiji more for its contribution to modernization than for its contribution to absolutism, which set an example for the militarists in the late 1930's.
As with history, so with other symbols of national pride. Although they still enjoy the tea ceremony, flower arrangement, ancient temples, and traditional art, these are now less a source of national pride than Tokyo Tower, the modern Ginza area of Tokyo, the rate of economic growth, and Japan's standing in international sports contests.
New bases of national pride are beginning to emerge, not in what is unique to the Japanese tradition but in what is the most desirable combination of East and West. Unlike citizens of Western countries who enjoy only Western culture, Mamachi residents feel they can share the benefits of Western and Japanese culture. They can, for example, have Western electrical equipment along with Japanese gardens and tatami mats, Western and Japanese-style food, Western and Japanese-style clothing, Western and Japanese music, Western and Japanese-style painting. Although there are difficulties in reconciling specific traditional practices with modern ones, the over-all goal of building a superior culture by combining the best of the East and West does give a general perspective for the solution of these difficulties.
The Imperial family remains the most important single focus for patriotic sentiments. Unlike the politicians, the Emperor was not
considered responsible for the war, and because he is no longer so aloof, many people have come to have even more affection for him since the war.[4] Mamachi residents recall that before the war the Emperor rarely appeared in public and that if he did, people bowed so low they did not have a chance even to look at his face. During the war, when the streetcar conductor announced the approach to the Imperial Palace, everyone bowed to the floor of the car. Since the war, however, the Emperor personally greets the crowds at the palace on the first two days of the New Year and on his birthday. Everyone can see his pictures on TV and read stories about the Imperial family in the newspapers and magazines. Although some of the most progressive youths of Mamachi raise questions about the value of the Imperial system, the overwhelming majority of these families feel devotion, affection, and enthusiasm for the Imperial family.
For popular and spontaneous excitement no event during our period of research could be compared to the wedding of the Crown Prince and the new Princess. Everyone devoured the newspapers and magazines before, during, and after the wedding, and decorations were everywhere. The only time that a request was made to interrupt an interview during our entire research period was when a family wanted to watch televised films of the Crown Prince and Princess on their honeymoon trip to the national shrine of Ise. The little girls of Mamachi idolized Princess Michiko and copied her hair styles and clothing. Though few people in Mamachi took up tennis because the Prince and Princess met on the tennis courts, many were well aware that tennis became more popular because of this fortuitous event. They were pleased and proud that the Princess was a commoner, and they avidly followed the activities of the Princess's household. The birth of a child to Princess Michiko was followed in minute detail and was a favorite topic of conversation for Mamachi residents. Similarly, although to a lesser extent, they followed the marriage of the Emperor's daughter Princess Suga, reading the newspaper and magazine stories about the house furnishings and family plans. They were delighted when one of the princesses agreed to have her own radio program, and their respon-
[4] Cf. Takeshi Ishida, "Popular Attitudes toward the Japanese Emperor," Asian Survey , 1962, 2:29–39.
siveness helps explain why requests for public appearances of members of the Imperial family have been far greater than can possibly be met.
Before and during World War II, because the Emperor and the government officials were linked together as representatives of the national interest, it was difficult for Mamachi residents to have a legitimate basis for criticizing government officials. Although politicians never had wide popular support, the officials who acted in the name of the Emperor were ordinarily immune from public criticism.[5] As far as political attitudes of Mamachi residents are concerned, the important change in the Emperor's status after the war was not his official renunciation of his divinity. Many Mamachi residents had not believed in his divinity before the war, and they remained devoted to him after the renunciation. The important change was the separation of the Imperial institution from governmental power. No longer can the Emperor be used to cloak and legitimize the actions of governmental leaders.
As a result, national officials have been deprived of their most important source of popular support, and political leaders who were never even cloaked by the Emperor still have no legitimate basis for winning the people's respect.[6] Although elections provide a basis for legitimizing them, even if elected they do not enjoy the high status accorded to government bureaucrats, and even government bureaucrats no longer enjoy the immunity of servants of the Emperor. From the point of view of the Mamachi resident, in order to be respected, a person should be committed to his group and should
[5] Cf. Robert A. Scalapino, Democracy and the Party Movement in Prewar Japan , Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1953.
[6] For example, in a 1956 Mainichi poll, in answer to the question, "Do you think the House of Councilors has accomplished its appointed talks?" 78 percent of salary men said no, compared to 64 percent of merchants and industrialists, 68 percent laborers, and 60 percent of farmers and fishermen. Cited in Allan B. Cole, Japanese Opinion Polls with Socio-political Significance , 1947–1957. Medford, Mass.: Tufts University, 1958, p. 370.
In a 1957 Asahi poll, in answer to the question, "Do you think government is trying to eliminate the three evils of corruption, violence, and poverty?" 46 percent of the salary men said no, compared to 41 percent merchants and industrialists, 43 percent industrial laborers, and 25 percent farmers and fishermen. Ibid. , p. 372.
In a 1954 Yomiuri poll in Tokyo, Osaka, and Yokohama, in answer to the question of "Do you have confidence in your present congressmen?" on the average 68 percent said no, but among salary men, 77 percent replied no, 9 percent replied yes, and 21 percent said they did not know. Ibid. , p. 409.
not be pursuing his own self-interests. But political leaders continually are expressing individual interests or, at best, the interests of a small clique without respecting the rights of others. There is no underlying consensus whereby the supporters of the losing candidate support the person elected simply because he is elected. The loser does not form a "loyal opposition"; he expects, in return, that his wishes will not be respected by the majority. Even those who vote for the winning candidate, however, usually do not feel their candidate is looking out for their interests but for the interest of a small clique. From the view of the Mamachi resident, there is a big difference between, for example, the Meiji leaders who were devoted to their country and the opportunistic politicians who now hold office. Their vague affection toward things Japanese may be expressed through occasions like the wedding of the Crown Prince but it is not expressed by the acts of their political leaders.
In part, the problem of legitimizing political leaders stems from disagreement over the value of various aspects of the national heritage. It is difficult for a politician to find any broad basis of consensus by which he could obtain a large following, even among Mamachi residents alone.
The problem of legitimation of political leaders has been compounded by the onus laid on many groups and individuals associated with the military effort in wartime. Even the residents of Mamachi who were themselves soldiers feel a repulsion toward the military leaders. Before and during World War II, the military was extremely contemptuous of the civilian population. The residents of Mamachi still recall the fear they had of their own military and the danger of trying to oppose any of their wishes. They feel that they endured many years of suffering in vain for a military which led them to a national debacle. Many of their friends and relatives died during the war because of the military's mistaken judgment. The repulsion to the military could hardly be more extreme and more complete.[7]
[7] Mary Ellen Goodman, an American anthropologist, analyzed compositions of 1250 Japanese and 3750 American children in grades one to eight on "What I want to be when I grow up and why." She reports as follows: "Most striking of all Japanese/American contrasts are those having to do with the military and religious roles. . . . The Japanese child . . . totally ignores all roles related to the military or to the national defense, and discusses national welfare solely in terms of health, peace,and prosperity. This is distinctly not true of the American children" (p. 996). She further reports, "Americans express much patriotic sentiment and much concern for the national safety; in fact, they do a great deal of verbal flag-waving. We get absolutely nothing of the sort from the Japanese boys" (p. 983). Mary Ellen Goodman, "Values, Attitudes, and Social Concepts of Japanese and American Children," American Anthropologist , 1957, 59:979–999.
Military forces have been declared illegal under the new constitution, but most Mamachi residents see little distinction between the military and the new "Self-Defense Forces." Even the police are regarded with much the same fear and caution as the prewar military, and to some extent the attitudes toward the discredited military are transferred to the police. During the period of research, when the Diet debated the strengthening of the police force, many Mamachi residents agreed heartily with vigorous press warnings about the dangers of such a measure.
The same opprobrium extends to civilian leaders connected with the wartime government, thus including many of Japan's ablest political leaders and bureaucrats. Kishi, the prime minister at the time of the interviews, is one example. The residents of Mamachi felt that it was difficult to place full confidence in such a man who turned so easily from participating in a militarist campaign to representing Japan in the era of peace. Indeed many Mamachi residents could not understand why the United States would allow Eisenhower, a former World War II general, to become president in peacetime. They asked whether America's victory led America to respect the military so much. Even the Japanese flag and the national anthem were so closely associated with the discredited war effort that they have been slow to revive as national symbols. For many years after the war most residents did not use the flag, and only few are beginning to fly it again.
The wholehearted rejection of militarism by most Japanese is not sufficient to give Mamachi residents confidence that there is no danger of a return to prewar authoritarianism. Many are genuinely afraid that in time of some domestic economic or political crisis an unselfish national leader might arise with sufficient appeal as an unselfish patriot as to win the necessary following from the more selfish politicians and lead the country back to totalitarianism, and that they would be powerless to stop such a trend. It is partly this fear that makes them so adamant in their objections to the strengthening
of the police and other measures which might provide the foundation for the return of a totalitarian regime.
The average person in Mamachi does not feel a part of the collective guilt for starting the war in the same way many Americans feel guilty for the dropping of the atomic bombs. On the one hand, Mamachi residents feel that Japan was forced to go to war, and on the other, that it was the decision of the militarists, not their own decision. They do feel, however, that Japan made an enormous mistake to launch a war she could not win, and their feelings about Hiroshima are more resentment at the devastation than moral criticism of the United States for using the atomic bombs.
In thinking about foreign affairs, Mamachi residents seem to feel strongly on three points. Firstly, they want international alignments that will be of benefit to Japan. They feel they have more to gain from close relationships with the West than with China or Russia. They are grateful for the economic help and technical advice they received during the occupation, which, they think, they would not have received had they been occupied, for example, by Russia or China. They consider the United States to be very wealthy and Americans more humanitarian than the Russians. But they also think it in their interest to have some trade and cultural relations with China and Russia within the context of keeping their strongest ties to the West.
At the same time, however, another strong consideration is their sensitivity to any situation in which Japan is placed in an inferior position. They wish Japan to be treated with respect. They resent it when the United States considers the opinion of European allies, without giving equal weight to Japanese opinion. To be in a position of economic and political dependence on the United States in which Americans can dictate the terms of economic and political arrangements reminds them of the bitter days when the United States imposed unequal treaties, excluded Orientals from migrating to the United States, and sent her troops to occupy their country. As one Mamachi man put it, "Because of Japan's mistake in starting and losing the war, we are forced to be America's samurai." In their personal relations, most salary men are happy they have been largely emancipated from "feudalistic" relationships where they, as inferiors, had their personal lives controlled by paternalistic su-
periors. In their identification with the nation as well, they are anxious for Japan to be freed of pressures restricting their independent action. This feeling seems to underlie the unpopularity of the Security Pact which was signed during the period of our field work.[8] The widespread objections to the Security Pact in no way affected their personal relationship to Americans, nor did it seriously damage their friendly feelings to the United States as a whole. In their view, Kishi railroaded the Security Pact through the Diet to please the United States. Eisenhower's desire to come to Japan so soon afterward was taken as evidence that the American government supported Kishi's tactics, and that Kishi had been responding to American pressure to enact a measure that was not in the best interests of Japan. Many residents of Mamachi did feel that it was necessary and even wise for Japan to accept the Security Pact in one form or another, but all were bitter about Kishi's tactics and American pressure. They do not criticize the United States for legitimately pursuing her own interests, but resent that Japan must still play the subordinate role. It is a wound to their national pride rather than a criticism of American policy as such.
Despite their feelings about the Security Pact they are inclined, on the basis of stories about American soldiers in Japan, American movies they have seen, and second-hand reports, to regard Americans as basically generous and human, albeit a bit overbearing. Most have much less knowledge about Russia, and the few stories from people repatriated by Russia or about the problems of Russian restriction on Japanese fishing have given Russians a somewhat more frightening and less humane image. Many people were in China during the period of Japanese expansion, and this tends to give them a healthy respect for and a feeling of guilt toward the Chinese peasant, which is coupled with a historic tradition of close relations in language, religion, and a wide range of customs. Although many are sympathetic with the efforts of the Chinese Communist government to improve the lot of the common man, they are happy that
[8] The original Security Treaty between United States and Japan was signed September 9, 1951. During our period of research in Mamachi, the Kishi government was debating the renewal of this treaty. At one point in the debate on whether the Diet term should be extended, Socialist members were carrying on a demonstration in the corridors of the Diet. The government had police remove the demonstrators and during their absence passed the renewal of the revised Security Treaty in 1960.
they do not have to live under such tight governmental regimentation. But they consider China much less frightening and dangerous than Americans do, and they would like to have somewhat closer economic and cultural relations with China than they now have.
The third consideration that dominates their thinking about foreign affairs is an intense hatred and fear of war. Having been devastated in World War II and having had two cities of their country destroyed by atomic bombs, Mamachi residents not only despise their own country's military but all countries' military. To have American soldiers on their territory seems terrible to them because it means subordination of Japan's wishes to the wishes of Americans and greater likelihood of becoming involved in war. They are annoyed at the United States for having forced them to build up their "self-defense" forces after having previously urged on Japan a constitution renouncing all military forces.[9]
Most Mamachi residents would prefer to have closer relations with the West than with the East because they think their best interests are served in this direction. But neutralism,[10] within the context of stronger ties to the West, has a great appeal both because Japan might escape the position of servitude in its alliance with the West and because they think Japan would be less likely to become involved even if war should break out between East and West.
The Role of the Citizen
The ability of present-day residents of Mamachi to laugh at their fear of officialdom before 1945 indicates that they now feel greater freedom and confidence in facing government officials. Yet, in comparison with American standards, they still are very humble before officials and still regard encounters with them as trying experiences. From their view, the manner in which government bureaus operate depends in part on the whim and disposition of the officials. The applicant's strategy is to get on the official's good side and win
[9] Cf. the symposium, "Japan Since Recovery of Independence," The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science , November 1956, No. 308.
[10] In answer to the question of whether they prefer a pro-American, pro-Soviet, or neutralist policy, salary men are slightly stronger in their preference for neutralism than most Japanese. In a Shimbun Yoron Choosa Renmei poll in 1953, 42 percent of salary men favored pro-America, 2 percent pro-Soviet, 46 percent neutralism, and the rest gave no opinion. Cited in Cole, op. cit. , p. 694.
his favor. The applicant will smile when angry and reply pleasantly to brusk remarks. Unless they have introductions, Mamachi people seem to feel it necessary to plead in order to get an official to respond in the desired manner. They know about the bureaucratic techniques of systematic postponement, indefinite answers, and "passing the buck," and they expect that the least sign of annoyance will mean a longer wait and poorer service. Most Mamachi residents are uncertain about the rights of a citizen vis-à-vis the government and think that it is rude or senseless to try to oppose an official on the basis of regulations. They believe that it is not might or law that makes right, but position. A person in a position of authority is always right and can ensure that his wishes are carried out. Despite attempts to define the situation differently, even government welfare assistance is viewed not as a right but as a privilege granted at the pleasure of an official.
Because Mamachi residents, and especially women, feel helpless before the government, they try to avoid contact with government officials whenever possible. If a meeting cannot be avoided, they will try to obtain a personal introduction to an official. A man who brings letters of introduction or establishes mutual contacts can hope for better treatment than would be accorded a stranger. With good introductions, he is likely to be received in grand style, be treated with efficiency, and be made to feel important. Although the average salary man does not necessarily look up to a bureaucrat as a person, even if he himself works in a government office he is hesitant in applying to another government bureau without the introduction of friends or colleagues.
The Japanese are generally law-abiding but they do not equate rules with morality. They have seen law changed drastically with shifts in power—some laws rigidly enforced by their own military, other laws laid down by their conquerors. Obedience to laws then, seems to reflect prudence rather than morality.
In certain cases, cheating or deceiving the government, particularly about taxes, is not considered reprehensible. It is difficult for a salaried employee to hide the amount he is paid, because it is known at the company. But the independent businessman, the small shopkeeper, or the independent professional often systematically
understates his income. Large businessmen, by their contacts and consultants, frequently can arrange their accounts so that they do not have to fear punishment by the government. But small businessmen almost inevitably worry that the tax officer will require them to pay more money and in a way lacking in grace and dignity.
Although an individual person almost never objects directly to the government about the way he is treated in a government office, groups of citizens occasionally present complaints collectively. For example, some Mamachi residents went in large numbers to complain about the sewer system in their area. Other groups protest plans for roads, noise from factories, or heavy traffic. But even large delegations do not expect to receive much consideration unless they are introduced by a person of power or position in that bureau.
As yet there are few groups devoted to securing or preserving the rights of citizens. Generally, it is felt that these functions will be served by the people in power, or by the more powerful citizens of the community, and if these functions are not served residents feel that all they can do about it is protest loudly. It is difficult to imagine organizations with a wide membership base such as the Civil Liberties Union, and since women are so removed from politics it is even more difficult to imagine an effective Japanese League of Women Voters. Despite the growing interest in public opinion, most residents of Mamachi do not expect that under ordinary circumstances public opinion and the activities of the citizenry will have a serious impact on their government's decisions.
The experience of Mamachi men as salaried employees in large organizations has served to lend support to the prevailing view of the powerlessness of the citizenry. They have found that the way to be most effective in their organizations is to work through people with whom they have a special relationship. If they have a connection with people in power, then usually it is possible for them to express their opinions, and the people in power will tend to assist them in getting what they wish. However, if they do not have such contacts, it is hopeless for them to try to affect company policy. Thus in business as in politics, a man's influence on decisions depends in large part on his position within the organization and upon his relationship with the people at the top. By their contacts
and power, influential high-status salary men are more conservative politically[11] and expect to play a role in governmental processes, but ordinary salary men do not.
Even in the local community salary men take little part in political activities. Because their center of activity is in the firm or bureau which has no ties to the local community, they have much less interest in suburban politics than the old middle class of small business owners and independent professionals who control the reins of local power. Furthermore, the salary man and his family are generally among the newcomers to Mamachi and would have difficulty breaking into local politics even if they were interested, expecially since most important issues like budgets for schools and road and sewage construction are decided by the local bureaucracies rather than by local elections in which all can participate. Even participation often means only petitioning the local government.
The feeling of powerlessness of the citizen in relation to the government is unmitigated by confidence in the democratic processes. Residents value the right to vote and have a vague hope that their combined votes may have some influence, but they do not feel that voting, in fact, has much effect on government decisions. From their point of view, government decisions are made by the higher-ups in private meetings, often at geisha houses, and are completely beyond the control of the average citizen. They are not happy with the situation but they feel powerless to change it.[12] Although the average American citizen may have little more influence in governmental decisions than his Japanese counterpart, the American is taught to feel that his vote and opinions do count and that he has effective avenues for redress of grievances. The Mamachi resident,
[11] In a Tokyo survey in 1962, it was found that 39 percent of one group of office workers in large enterprises and 51 percent of another group supported Socialists. However, only 14 percent of the officers in these enterprises supported the Socialists. Nihon Shakai Koozoo Choosakkai, Howaito Karaa no Ishiki Koozoo (The Structure of White Collar Ideology), Tokyo, March, 1962, p. 265. The evidence from this and other voting studies shows that ordinary salary men are more likely to vote Socialist than are laborers.
[12] Indeed, books like the Japanese translation of C. Wright Mills, Power Elite, which argue that elitist cliques exist, are extremely popular among salary men, especially those who are recent graduates of universities. In Japan, the government bureaucracy has more power and political functions vis-à-vis the political parties than in America and many Western countries. Therefore, the feeling of being excluded is likely to be greater than when officials are more subject to the will of the people.
being more cynical of the government's tendency to look out for its own interests and ignore the interests of outsiders, has no such basis of optimism.[13]
Salary and the Moderation of Alienation
Part of the alienation toward the government in power rests on this feeling of being looked down upon by governmental leaders. The salary man, like other Japanese, feels intense loyalty to his own groups and intense hostility to groups from which he is excluded. Because government leaders, and particularly government bureaucrats, tend to have close-knit elitist groups unresponsive to the wishes of the average person, it is difficult for the salary man to identify with governmental leaders. One of the strongest complaints against the government, that it is a "tyranny of the majority," clearly reflects the concern about exclusive government groups imposing their will without giving sufficient consideration to others. The salary man does not feel that the government leaders are "of the people," but of a series of in-groups to which he does not belong.
In part, the alienation to the government in power seems to rest on the desire to modernize government institutions. Since the government has more than its share of leaders representing rural and special-interest conservative groups, it seems far more traditional than salary men wish it to be. Many salary men connect their feeling of disillusionment with the government to what they had learned in their university days. In contrast to many of the older middle class who support conservatives and even the radical right, salary men are in favor of developing a rational approach to government just as they wish to develop rational procedures in their own firm. But even if they could respect the methods of operation of government departments, salary men cannot identify with what they see as the primary purpose of any government bureau, the perpetuation and strengthening of its own power.
For many Mamachi residents, criticism of the government gives them a feeling of remaining true to their feelings of protest and the
[13] Many Westerners had hoped that with the rise of the middle class, the democratic processes would be strengthened. Although the participation of the middle class in voting and in free speech and criticism undoubtedly poses certain restraints on authoritarian rule, the relatively closed nature of groups still poses formidable obstacles to the broad expansion of political participation and influence.
ideals of democracy which they had espoused so vocally during their college days. They are convinced that the militarists came to power in Japan because people did not stand up for more democratic practices. In general, as salary men grow older and rise higher in their firms, they become more conservative. Some salary men seem to feel slightly ashamed of having adjusted so well to the firm, to have lost the feeling of protest, and of doing so little to help the cause of democracy and the nation's welfare. However, many who in their own behavior have become more conservative retain much of their strong ideological opposition to the government.
Although feeling excluded from governmental processes, the salary man maintains an active interest in political affairs and keeps himself well abreast of the news, especially in national affairs.[14] Japanese are avid readers, but the salary man, being better educated than the average, is particularly well read on broader issues affecting his country. The Mamachi man commonly reads both the morning and evening editions of one of the three large dailies, as well as weekly and monthly magazines, and he often discusses politics with friends at work. Although wives are generally much less informed about national political activities than their husbands, they, too, follow at least the main trend of important political events.
Most salary men are moderate in the manner in which they express opposition to the government. They enjoy many of the virulent criticisms of the government in the newspapers and pass on their bitter criticism in conversation with friends, but they are not likely to participate in riots and demonstrations. Even if they vote for the Socialists, as many salary men do, they explain that they do not really respect the Socialists, who seem to them irresponsible in their behavior. They are not as much for the Socialists, as they are against the government; they doubt that the Socialists would be freer of corruption and mismanagement.
The moderate way in which salary men express opposition is not simply a result of the fact that companies prefer to hire college students with moderate political views—many a salary man admits
[14] In an Asahi poll in 1952, 87 percent of salary men questioned knew the Diet was in session compared to 70 percent of merchants and industrialists, 65 percent industrial laborers, and 57 percent of farmers and fishermen. Cited in Allan B. Cole, op. cit., p. 392.
having been more leftist in his youth. Rather, his moderation seems to be a result of the fact that he seems sufficiently comfortable with his present position and sufficiently pessimistic as to what would be accomplished by more active political participation; thus he is reluctant to place his position in jeopardy. Mamachi men know that although firms are ordinarily loyal to their members they have been known to sacrifice a member should he become too embarrassing; and that short of dismissing an employee, the firm can exert powerful informal pressure on the deviant.
Chapter VI—
Community Relationships
The Separate Communities of Husbands, Wives, and Children
For informal social life, a husband does not meet with his wife's friends, the wife does not associate with her husband's friends, and they rarely go out together as a couple.
Shortly after arriving in Mamachi, we invited six families to our house for a picnic luncheon. As soon as the invitations were issued, the wives got together and decided that husbands were not to attend, and indeed, the husbands did not attend. Despite ideology to the contrary, it is clear that husbands and wives will not easily adopt a pattern of shared social life, and that women are as little anxious as men to push for a change. A husband centers his social life on his place of work, the wife on her immediate neighborhood and relatives. Even on the rare occasions when the husband brings guests to his home, a proper wife serves the guests and smiles pleasantly, but does not interfere with the conversation and often stays in another room except when serving. With their friends, husbands generally feel constrained in the presence of a wife, and wives feel even more constrained in the presence of a husband. Most wives prefer to stay at home where they can be comfortable rather than face formalities, listen to stiff conversation, and worry about behaving properly. Even couples who told us they would like to go out together found excuses for never doing so.[1]
Paradoxically, the separation of the husband's and wife's social
[1] Many Americans in Japan have commented that while they can communicate with Japanese men, they find it difficult to develop meaningful relationships with women. It may be suggested that this is because they have largely seen the women in public situations or in the presence of their husbands.
lives is more complete in the modern salary man's families than in many traditional families. In farm and small-shopkeeper families, although men's and women's activities are carefully separated, a woman's closest friends are often the wives of her husband's friends. Consequently, husbands and wives have a feeling of belonging to the same social community although there may be little direct interaction between men and women. Independent professionals and businessmen have more opportunities to go out with their wives, and the women often become friendly with the wives of their husbands' friends. Not so the salary men, where the husbands' friends usually have no relationship with the wives' friends.
Sometimes, however, the Mamachi husband and wife pay visits together on formal occasions like New Year's, weddings, and funerals. Some modern couples, immediately after marriage, proudly go to movies, plays, and concerts together and sometimes attend parties with friends. Yet, in most Mamachi families this visiting stops abruptly shortly before the first child is born. While some young couples talk of going out occasionally even afterward, they rarely do, except perhaps for visits to relatives. Occasionally, husbands do visit with husbands of the wife's neighborhood friends. However, most husbands have little to do with their neighbors, not only because their own social life keeps them busy but also because they are mildly embarrassed by intruding into what is essentially the wife's domain. Although doing things as a couple is usually regarded as "modern," even in traditional homes elderly husbands and wives have been close and do many things together. Life expectancy is almost the same as in the United States, and after the salary man retires at fifty-five or sixty, the elderly couple generally spend more time together than they ever did when younger. Elderly couples go to Tokyo together for shopping or entertainment and, if they can afford it, take trips together to hot-springs resorts, famous shrines, or scenic spots.
The Father and His Company Gang
Salary men have more time for recreation than small shopkeepers or independent professionals, and most of the recreational activities are with their friends from work. Because of the long distance from home to work, it is difficult to go home after work and then return
to the city for an evening of recreation. Various polls have shown that it takes the husband an average of two to three hours to get home. While commuting may require a long time, the transportation alone could not possibly take that long. It is rather that this is the time for recreation. After work, the men stop off someplace to sit and chat, have a drink and perhaps a bite to eat.[2] Most company gangs have their own favorite hangouts: bars, coffee houses, small food-specialty shops, and the like. Here, by spending only a few cents, they can have long leisurely conversations. It is here that they talk and laugh freely about sports, national and world events or the daily happenings in the company, complain about bosses and wives, and receive the consolation of their friends and of the sympathetic girls behind the counter.
Some men, particularly the more conservative or serious, do not like the gay life of the company gang and prefer to come home at an earlier hour to be with their families. Those who do not always stop off with the boys may walk around for an hour or so seeing sights, looking at department stores, or playing pachinko (a popular kind of pin-ball machine), go, shoogi (Japanese chess), or mahjong—all easily available at public or private places on the way home.
Even those who do not participate regularly in the daily gang activities join in company-sponsored special activities such as field day, baseball, tennis, table tennis, fishing, or the overnight trip to an inn. Even government offices have special funds to cover the expenses of such excursions. At least part of the time on the trip is spent enjoying the hot bath, but there are other activities such as fishing, skiing, baseball, sight-seeing, and mountain-climbing. The camaraderie often reaches its peak in the evening with drinking and singing. Often the group is large enough to charter a bus or occupy most of a railway car, and the fun begins when they get on the train. Aside from trips paid entirely by the company, the gang can often take advantage of a company discount at special inns and restaurants, even for trips not officially sponsored by the company. In contrast to the American social hour or cocktail party, where
[2] In some Boston-Irish families studied by the author in 1954–1958 as part of a project directed by Dr. F. Kluckhohn and J. Spiegel, it was also common for men to stop off on the way home from work. In these families, as in the Japanese salary-man family, the wife and children have a relatively independent existence with the father less centrally participating in household activities.
one talks personally to one or two at a time, Japanese parties or trips are oriented to the whole group, except for hiking, sight-seeing, or bathing which require smaller groups and permit more intimate discussion. Although as many as twenty or thirty people may sit together listening to stories and joking, speakers are often more intimate than they are in private conversation. On such occasions men openly air their troubles and sometimes make personal confessions or tell jokes designed to correct personal problems within the group. At other times, someone in the group with special talent will tell funny stories or perform by singing or playing a musical instrument. Such group recreation is not limited to the salary man, except that he usually can enjoy recreational trips more frequently, and at company expense, and that his group is formed on the basis of place of work rather than on the basis of neighborhood, village, profession, religion, age, or kinship.
Generally those who stop off together after work are the ones who see each other most at work. Although it usually consists of the same positions sometimes people at different levels, who constitute a kind of batsu (clique) within the company, also go out together. Perhaps clique members have gone to the same school or have had a close leader-follower relationship for years, the leader offering guidance and help in return for loyalty and support within the company. Actually the clique may consist of a much larger membership than the small informal group which stops off on the way home, but even then the smaller informal group may be determined by membership in the bigger clique.
Because employees ordinarily expect to continue together for their entire careers and groups are so tightly integrated, maintaining smooth relationships is a much more critical problem than in the United States. Although everyone may be loyal to the group, minor differences of opinion (what Freud calls the narcissism of small differences) can create tensions upsetting to the group members. Going out together for recreation is crucial for keeping personal relationships strong enough to withstand the tensions which arise during the course of work.
Because most men belong to no group other than their work group they are sensitive to the slightest difficulties in personal relations. For example, some men are distraught about the way they
are treated by superiors.[3] Others become envious of one of their group selected as a "fair-haired boy" by the superiors, especially if he begins to flaunt his favored status. But by relaxing together after work and going together on company trips, the men can maintain sufficient rapport and camaraderie that these complaints and rivalries seem minor.[4]
The problem of controlling competition also helps to explain the exclusion of wives from social activities. Because wives have less personal investment in the husband's work group, they are more prone to gossip and thus are considered to be a strain on group solidarity. Wives are likely to be jealous of other wives who have nicer clothes, homes, or more education, and may drag their husbands into their discontent. Furthermore, status differences among wives may not accord with status differences among the husbands at work. If one man has a little more money through his family, this need not influence his position at work but it would affect his wife's style of living. When asked why wives are not invited, salary men are not always sure. They all have a feeling that it would be a nuisance and interference to have them around. Some say it would cost too much money, and part of that expense would probably be in keeping up with wealthier colleagues. When wives do go out with their husbands, it is more likely to be with old school friends rather than with colleagues, and the group is likely to break into women talking with women and men talking with men. Wives are sometimes invited to formal occasions, but then there is little opportunity to gossip.[5]
[3] In sentence-completion items, salary men frequently referred spontaneously to difficulties they had with superiors. On items asking about troubles, their main concern was often their superior at work. Similarly they were often annoyed when their superior did not look after them or when they did not please their superior. Yet these men ordinarily have no alternative than to stay in this relationship and try to make it as good as possible. The only other possibility in most places would be transfer to another section within the company, which would not entirely end their difficulties.
[4] Following Durkheim, one can also say that this solidarity makes it possible for the group to enforce its norms on the members. It should be noted, however, that the integration into the organization accrues to all employees and is not based on occupational specialization. Cf. Emile Durkheim, The Division of Labor in Society, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1947.
[5] Following this line of thought, one would expect that paternalistic companies with company housing would have serious problems because wives gossip about other women. Brief contact with one Mamachi small-company apartment project suggests that this is so. Mr. Jack Knowles, who investigated the internal dispute in theOji Paper Company, a company in northern Japan with company housing, reports that workers said they could get along with each other better were it not for the wives.
Even though wives are reluctant to express jealousy, everyone recognizes that they are often jealous of the office girls who not only do secretarial work, but also perform many informal services such as running errands and serving tea—services performed in a way to flatter the men in the office. In spite of the fact that peer group activities tend to be exclusively male, occasionally an office girl or a bar girl becomes a regular participant. Sometimes friendships with office girls develop into sexual relationships although these still seem to be relatively infrequent.[6] Even when there is no sexual relationship, men naturally do become fond of certain girls at work. When the company has an overnight trip to the country, the girls from the office generally go along and sometimes may be particularly friendly with certain men. There is an aura of romance associated with the office girl, and it is now so common for single men to marry young girls working in the same office that this kind of marriage is given the special name, shokuba kekkon (literally, "work-place marriage"). Since most girls quit work on marriage, office girls are generally young, and it is not surprising that wives often feel concern about their husbands' relations with girls in the office. Japanese firms have a strict prohibition on women working in the same firm as their husbands, and require women to quit immediately if they marry someone in the firm. This tends to sharpen the separation between the firm and home and suggests to what extent the company recognizes the threats to work-group solidarity.[7]
[6] Professor Shinichi Asayama, the Japanese counterpart to Alfred C. Kinsey, finds that in recent years the amount of organized prostitution has greatly diminished but the number of Japanese men having some kind of sexual relationship with the women at their working place had greatly increased.
[7] It may be suggested that Americans are able to permit husbands and wives to go out together because the firm is not such a tight-knit group. In Japan the range of meaningful contacts is so limited that relationships with co-workers involves such intensity of feeling that rivalries and difficulties cannot be treated in an objective way or dismissed as unimportant. However, many large American firms with a close-knit executive group are also concerned with the threat of wives to the solidarity of the work group but the solution of the problem, as noted in William H. Whyte's description of the wives of management, is to bring the wives more closely into company affairs.
In answer to a sentence completion "women are . . . ," both men and women frequently described women as home-bodies, who do not enjoy going out.
If a man carries on an affair with a girl in the office, it need not disrupt his relationship with his wife. Long-lasting affairs involving considerable expenditures may lead to divorce, but wives who know or suspect that their husbands are carrying on affairs often resign themselves as long as the husband meets his family financial duties and still expresses his affection to her and the children. Some wives even say their husbands are milder and easier to deal with if they have a sexual outlet outside the home. Other wives are jealous about the husbands' relations to office and bar girls. They know liaisons exist, and because they are excluded from their husbands' office life, they are never certain about their office relationships. Ignorance is more likely to breed suspicion than bliss, but because the wife has no opportunity to see other employees or their wives who might give her accurate information, she generally resolves her feelings by denying the suspicion or denying that it matters even if such affairs exist.
Problems of the wife's jealousy of office girls may be illustrated by the case of a wife who knew a girl working in her husband's office. The girl reported to the wife that the husband was particularly friendly with another girl in the office. The husband denied the story, and the wife could not determine whether the story was true or not. She felt there were grounds why this girl might be spreading false rumors, but she also could see signs that her husband did not love her. This worry about the husband's fidelity led to the most violent arguments in the couple's long years of marriage.
Mamachi residents usually explain that wives do not go out with husbands because it is not a traditional custom, because it requires too much money, or because the wife should be protected from undesirable influences. Yet their reluctance to permit wives to go out with husbands has a strength which goes far beyond economic considerations or mere custom. It may be suggested that the husband is reluctant to permit any possible encroachment on peer group solidarity and also reluctant to give the wife full access to his peer group because she might be able to make an independent assessment of his occupational role which would alter her image of his position at work.[8] The wife also wants to avoid any possible
[8] I am indebted to Ronald Dore who first called my attention to this problem. Most Mamachi wives have considerable respect for the husband and his position.Yet the fact is that in the firm they are often very subservient to various superiors, a fact not entirely in harmony with the authority and power the husbands enjoy in the home.
encroachment on the solidarity of her neighborhood group and because she lacks information about the husband's relations with other women, she resolves her feelings about his outside activities by considering them beyond her scope of concern and refusing to let them interfere with her marriage.
The Mother and Her Neighborhood
Because companies take in new members only once a year, the husband joins at the same time as large numbers of other men. In the welcoming activities, orientation program, and daily work, he is thrown into contact with his peers so that he has no difficulty in developing personal relationships. The wife, on the other hand, after her marriage moves into an unfamiliar and probably long-settled neighborhood where she has no friends. While she may make friends fairly quickly in some of the new housing developments in Tokyo, in Mamachi and other suburbs it still takes her many years to win personal friends. When we asked one family whether they felt lonely when they first moved to Mamachi, the husband immediately replied, "No, not at all," but the wife said with feeling, "Yes, very lonely." She went on to explain that even after several years in the community she still did not feel completely at home and that she did not have many close friends.
When a wife first moves to the neighborhood, she makes the rounds to the mukoo sangen ryoodonari (immediate neighbors) carrying a small carefully wrapped present of towels, post cards, or soap, along with her husband's name card. But even on this occasion, it is unusual for a neighbor to invite her into the house. While the neighborhood group collects a few cents a year to pay for street lights and local shrines, and the immediate neighbors agree to help each other in case of fire or theft, the emotional significance of the neighborhood groups is very slight, a mere vestige of the powerful neighborhood groups of rural Japan in an earlier era. A Mamachi wife cannot expect to develop close relationships simply because she lives in the neighborhood.
A young wife's only close friends usually are relatives and former
school mates. Unless she is particularly fortunate in living near these friends or relatives she is not likely to see them often. Indeed, the young wife is expected to devote herself completely to her home, husband, and, when they are born, children. It is thought improper to spend much time away from home visiting relatives or friends, even before children are born. To avoid the intense loneliness of the first few years of marriage many wives arrange to live near relatives or friends. Many are even willing to live with or next door to in-laws in order to have somebody with whom they can have meaningful relationships.
Usually a child is conceived soon after marriage, and from then on the wife is completely occupied with the child. Since the Japanese wife considers child care a satisfying and all-encompassing occupation, the mother of a young child finds her social isolation more tolerable than a childless wife. Nevertheless, most mothers want to make friends, even though the time spent in caring for small babies leaves almost no opportunity for it.
Most deep friendships with neighbors develop slowly as a result of frequent meetings over a period of many years. Groups of women who were living in Mamachi during the war feel particularly close to each other. During air raids, food shortages, and difficult living conditions, the women often met together either voluntarily or in air-raid shelters. They took turns drawing food rations or going to the country for food, and if one had a sick child, friends would share food rations with her. Since many of the men were away during much of the war, either in the service or at their place of work, the wives became extremely close. No relationships formed since then equal the intimacy of those wartime ties. The closeness of the older inhabitants is enhanced by the fact that they consider many of the new residents to have lower social standing and especially consider recent immigrants from the country to be less refined.
Wives who have come to Mamachi more recently have developed friendships mostly through the PTA or other school groups. Through the frequent school meetings, mothers become friendly by discussing their common problems in rearing children. Besides the school meetings and introductions through friends, young women have almost no opportunities to become acquainted.
While most of the mothers enjoy the opportunity to attend PTA
meetings, younger, less educated women may feel uneasy. A new PTA member is reluctant to express herself for fear that some of the older women may criticize her. Since this is typically the only group to which she will belong, a young mother attending the PTA for the first time is making her social debut, and she is concerned about making a proper impression on the teacher and other mothers.
Older women of established position in the community generally are expected to accept the honor and responsibilities of PTA office. The honor of being a PTA officer was demonstrated by a mother who reported that when she was elected an officer one of her friends who wanted a position became much less friendly. PTA officers consider their work a great responsibility, and even the higher-status mothers are afraid that something may go wrong for which they will be criticized. They are expected to attend frequent meetings, plan programs, raise money, smooth the ruffled feelings of mothers who feel their children are slighted, and take the responsibility for all children on school trips. This hard work is not regarded lightly, and many PTA officers are relieved when their turn of office is over.
Although reticent in expressing their competitive feelings, mothers are aware of the relative social status of each family. The fact that schools require parents to pay for school trips, lunches, text books, and other supplies, and that PTA's rely heavily on donations accentuates the concerns about a family's financial standing. Some poorer families have to accept charity to send their children on school trips or to buy school lunches. Because such matters often become public knowledge, it can be embarrassing for a family that has difficulty in paying. For example, when one child was reported sick on the day of the school trip, some of the other mothers suspected the family could not afford the trip and sent a representative to the child's home to offer financial help. Of course the child was delighted, but the family was ashamed to admit they had so little money. They then had to try in various ways to repay the families who had made it possible for the child to go on the school trip. Although the salary man's family usually can afford the minimum expenses, many families cannot contribute to the frequent appeals to supplement the regular school budget.
Until all children are in school, most mothers are so occupied with their care that they have little time to participate even in PTA groups; afterward the situation of the salary men's wives changes drastically. Mothers who had been looking forward to having a little free time suddenly find themselves bored. Since the salary man's wife almost never has any work of her own or any responsibilities for her husband's work, she generally looks around for more neighborhood and PTA activities. If she has lived in Mamachi for several years she probably already has a number of acquaintances with whom she has become friendly through school activities or daily shopping. She and some of her friends may decide to start a study group for cooking or sewing (either Western or Japanese style), tea ceremony, or flower arranging, and sometimes she may be invited to join a group of older ladies. These groups, like the American ladies' bridge club, offer opportunities for regular visiting and casual gossiping.
Aside from such activities, not only does a mother's life center on the children, but her friends in the community are made largely through her children's activities, and children are usually her main topic of discussion. Younger and lower-status women will listen closely to the "veterans" telling how to persuade a child to study, how to motivate the child to keep her informed of his activities, how to teach the child co-operation, how to get the child into a good school or arrange a successful marriage. After they get to know each other still better they may complain about husbands, and "veterans" will give tips to the younger ones about keeping husbands satisfied and co-operative. Younger and lower-status women tend to be properly reserved, volunteering little except an occasional nodding approval or thanks for the advice they receive from the older ladies. Although mothers' groups may meet at the homes of wealthier families, poorer women are too embarrassed to invite a group to their "small dirty" home.
When talking with us, many expressed envy of American wives who go out with husbands, and many were curious as to what it would be like. Several went so far as to try it for the first time during our stay, but reported that they were too tense to enjoy themselves. When out with husbands and their friends, they have to be so careful to behave properly that it is difficult to go beyond polite pleas-
antries. Moreover, they must be so retiring that they generally prefer the more relaxed times with their lady friends. One wife, upon hearing about a husband and wife going on a trip for a few days responded, "how nice," but after a moment's reflection added, "but what would they talk about for so long?"
Most of these women have no chance to become casual friends with any man aside from their husbands, and it is considered bad taste to show any sign of friendliness toward another man. On the few occasions when a husband's friends come to the home, the wife may join in the conversations but more commonly she is little more than a polite waitress. There are occasional stories of a woman becoming friendly with her child's male tutor, or with a male teacher of tea ceremony or flower arrangement, but such relationships are almost unknown in Mamachi. There are occasional jokes about the attractiveness of certain men teachers, but that is about as far as it goes. Any suggestion of special friendship with a man could seriously hurt a Mamachi woman's reputation. One woman said that before she was married she was friendly with a group of young men and young women who called each other by their first names. However, nowadays when she sees one of these men she is extremely embarrassed because her instinct is to call him by his first name and yet it would be improper to do so in her role as a housewife. All this indicates how strict are the morals restraining the wife from any kind of intimacy with other men. By and large, a married woman's life is limited to her own children, a few intimate women friends, and the PTA, but these relationships often have a depth and significance that are rare for her American counterpart who has a broader range of contacts.
The Child and His Friends
Until he finishes grade school, the child, like his mother, finds friends within the school district. Until late adolescence, the child is a part of the mother's world. His social network is limited to the mother's contacts and does not include children of the father's friends. In contrast to the American suburban child who is chauffeured by his mother, the child rarely goes farther from home than he can walk. It is unlikely that he would know any children living outside his immediate neighborhood except for relatives. His sphere
is limited to his home, the homes of neighbors or friends, the nearby streets, and the schoolyard.
For children who go into Tokyo for junior high school, the routine changes greatly when they first begin the commuting. Since they must leave home early in the morning and return home shortly before supper, they have little opportunity to play with the children in the neighborhood. At their junior high school, they develop close friends with whom they visit between classes, during lunch, and in the recreation period, but there are almost no extracurricular activities and no opportunities for meeting these children after school, or on Saturdays and Sundays. Ordinarily, evenings and weekends are spent at home with the family. Just as the mother's life centers on the children, so children center their life on her.
Because upper-class mothers often have more outside activities, and the child remains in the same school system for many years, he forms close friendships at school which ordinarily last throughout life. In poor families, the mother who goes to work, takes in work, or helps a husband in his shop cannot devote herself so completely to the children, and the child's peer group often assumes great importance by default. By contrast, the membership in the peer groups of the children of salary men are more likely to change as children are separated by the results of entrance examinations.
Although the membership may change, the child generally belongs to a single intimate group just as his father or mother belongs to a single intimate group. At the junior-high-school age this group may develop on the basis of mutual liking among students who attend the same class or commute to school together on the same train. Since students at this age generally have no opportunity to stay after school for extracurricular activities, the commuting ride usually is the key opportunity for developing friendships. Once relationships develop, friends may see each other occasionally in the evenings or on weekends. In high school or college, special activity groups often replace the informal commuting group, but the pattern of belonging to a single group, around which all one's activities center, does not change. The activity may be skiing, hiking, mountain-climbing, music, radio, literature, politics, or some special hobby, but it is more common for one group (even if formed primarily for a single activity) to perform several activities than for
one child to belong to more than one activity group. A child in a ski club who wants to go mountain-climbing is more likely to urge his ski companions to go mountain-climbing than to join a separate mountain-climbing club. Although girls in high school and college are usually expected to come home directly from school, boys are given more freedom to stop off at tea or coffee houses with their friends, just as their fathers stop off on their way home from work.
Just as some of the father's most enjoyable associations are on trips with company associates, so many of the children's closest associations are formed on the special trips which all schools sponsor. Although boys and girls go on these trips, their activities are strictly segregated by sex. In addition to overnight trips, at the end of the sixth grade and at the end of junior high school and high school, there are school trips ranging from two or three days to a week, arranged by the PTA and school boards. As on their father's company trips, activities are oriented to the group as a whole. Pairing or breaking into small groups is discouraged to the extent that sleeping arrangements might be rotated each night. Much of the fun is in just traveling, eating, singing, and sightseeing together. Out of a hundred students perhaps ninety-nine will be on the school trip. The hundredth will be very sick and remember sadly the rest of his life that he missed the trip. These trips are major events in the students' lives, requiring months of planning; they are discussed and commemorative photos viewed for months and even years afterward.
Some boys of high-school and college age form private groups of classmates for excursions, especially for skiing and mountain-climbing. Sometimes girls form their own groups and very occasionally, if boys are willing and the girls' parents are satisfied with chaperone arrangements, girls may go along with the boys. Ordinarily, however, girls are excluded and because of the frequent planning meetings and the excitement of the trip, these groups tend to become the center of one's deepest friendships.
To the extent that a child's world expands beyond his neighborhood it does so largely through his relatives. Cousins of the same sex and about the same age are likely to develop close ties. If one cousin is slightly older than another of the same sex, he may become maternalistic or paternalistic to the younger, especially if the
younger has no older sibling of the same sex. The younger often has a deep respect for the older, visiting as often as possible and asking advice on all kinds of questions. Overnight visiting is rare except with relatives, but during vacations children often spend a few days at the home of a cousin.
Sometimes a child will spend part of his vacation with grandparents, and if so, he may become friendly with children in the grandparents' neighborhood. Occasionally relatives do not get along well, but by and large children have positive relationships with relatives and look forward to these visits. Though parents may be reluctant to visit rural relatives because of the obligations it might pose for them, the children are more likely to regard trips to relatives in farming or fishing villages as sheer delight.
When boys leave high school and college to go to work, they quickly form new relationships with men at work, but for girls, graduation means the end of many friendships and is an occasion for weeping. They know there will be few opportunities to get together with old school friends and little opportunity to form friendships of equal closeness. They gradually become separated from each other by marriage, and once they live in different neighborhoods and have the responsibility of caring for children, they rarely have a chance to meet. After completing school many girls stay at home, perhaps taking a few special lessons in preparation for marriage. Those who work for a few years after school may develop friendships at work and feel the same kind of loneliness when they give up their jobs that others felt when they left school.
Many parents are reluctant to allow a daughter to work because they are afraid that she would lose her simplicity and perhaps even form irresponsible relationships. While, as de Tocqueville commented, the American girl may protect her virginity by her own skills based on independence and fairly broad contacts, the Japanese parent is afraid that his daughter, lacking in experience, would be unable to resist the first man who came along. Hence, although many girls work between school and marriage, it is often thought better for her to stay at home, taking lessons in cooking, flower arranging, sewing, tea ceremony, and other housewifely arts rather than to work where the family has no control over her relationships. After leaving school, the daughter may work two, three, or four
years at home with her family until marriage arrangements are completed. The girl's stay at home at this age is, in a sense, preparation for the limited social world she will know after marrying, just as her brother's loyalty to groups from his own college is preparation for the loyalty he will feel later to his company.
The most important relationships until, and sometimes after, marriage are those with the same sex. While "dance parties" are not uncommon in college nowadays, dating still is not widespread, and at high-school age it is virtually unknown. One girl, when asked if there was any dating in her (coeducational) high school replied that there was a boy and girl who did ride home together on the train and that the other students kept talking about it because it was so unusual. Even college-age students who meet at "dance parties" in the course of skiing or hiking weekends, or through introductions, are awkward in relating to someone of the opposite sex. Young girls anxious to form dating relationships find it difficult to arrange opportunities, and therefore many of them in the end let their families arrange their marriage despite their professed ideology to the contrary.
The Narrow World
Perhaps the most striking characteristic of Japanese society is the existence of a series of tightly-knit groups, connected by a controlled and limited amount of movement. Although a salary man has a broader perspective than the traditional middle-class man, these differences are minor when compared to a more openly mobile society such as the United States. The contrasts between the Mamachi wife and her Western counterpart are even stronger. Some Japanese who are humanitarian or have a broader range of contacts (for example, those who have lived in Japanese overseas colonies before World War II or traveled abroad after the war) have been urging their fellow citizens to take more responsibility for the welfare of people outside their own narrow world. But neither their urging nor the growth of modern bureaucracy have succeeded in greatly weakening the Mamachi citizen's sharp distinction between friend and stranger.[9]
[9] Though there are folk stories in which kindness to strangers in need is rewarded, the traditional Confucian philosophy supports the view that one shouldfeel more affection and obligation toward those in one's own social sphere than to outsiders.
The contrast between America and Japan is much like Kurt Lewin's distinction between America and Germany. Cf. Kurt Lewin, Resolving Social Conflicts, New York: Harper & Brothers, 1948, chapter 1.
Mamachi residents do have more opportunities to encounter strangers than the middle class in rural areas and have, therefore, developed routines for dealing with them. But compared to the upper class who have self-confidence, poise, and a wider experience in greeting strangers, the Mamachi salary man is reserved and therefore relies on these routines and formalities to deal with outsiders. The formalities may be jovial and even include lavish entertainment or they may consist of curt evasion. But in either case, the effect is the same. Strangers are kept at a proper distance and not allowed to penetrate into the inner circles.
Because the Mamachi resident ordinarily belongs to only one or two intimate groups to which he is absolutely devoted, these groups tend to absorb his total personality. He has no clear conception of himself apart from the group. He rarely belongs to special-interest groups with specific and limited purposes. His intimate group may cover a wide range of functions: recreation, gossip, travel, advice, and mutual assistance in making proper placement of children or in consumer purchasing. An individual typically has so little experience with other groups that he has little critical judgment for evaluating his own group and feels there is nothing to do (shikata ga nai ) but accept his own group's standards. Lacking the security of belonging to other groups, he ordinarily makes no attempt to withstand group pressures. Although a wide span of individual difference and free expression is permitted members who are loyal and accepted by the group, on basic issues, which affect group welfare, members are sensitive to the prevailing group sentiment.
Because of the tight-knit nature of each group, a person is reluctant to leave it and face the difficulty of entering a new one. If it is necessary to move, as when a child is placed in work or marriage or when a family moves to a new community, a family takes great care in establishing connections to the new group. The difficulty of moving is reflected in the special ceremonies at the time a member enter or leaves a group.[10] All occasions of entering and leaving a
[10] All families still react with great feeling in discussing mura hachibu, the practicein which a villager who had seriously violated the norms of the community was socially ostracized and even expelled by the villagers. This was regarded as the most complete and final punishment. One might contrast this fear of being on his own with the spirit of the American frontier which glorified an individual setting out on his own. Cf. Robert J. Smith, "The Japanese Rural Community: Norms, Sanctions, and Ostracism," American Anthropologist, 1961, LXIII:522–533.
group are carefully ceremonialized. Even a short trip is important enough to call for farewell and welcome-back parties, and whole groups gather at train stations and airports to send off a departing member. Aside from formal ceremonies of welcoming a bride to a new neighborhood and welcoming a man to his company, the entrance into these new groups is a major event, and it may take many months or years before a new person is totally accepted.
Because of the sharp differences between friend and stranger, in considering the Mamachi community it is necessary to distinguish: (1) acquaintances, who stand outside the bond of close-knit groups, (2) benefactors, who stand on the periphery of a group or form the bridge to another group, and (3) true friends, who are firmly inside one's own group.
Acquaintances
When meeting a stranger without proper introduction, one is apt to encounter a wall of apathy covered by formal politeness. The other person need not be hostile; he can be polite, but by his reserve, impersonality, and vagueness he indicates his caution in pursuing the contact. A Mamachi resident has no feeling of obligation and little feeling of sympathy to strangers.[11] In getting on and off crowded trains and buses, for example, people push in a manner which, though impersonal, is rude even by Western standards. As the saying goes, "You can throw off your shame when traveling."
To help break down the wall of apathy and escape the role of stranger, nearly every Mamachi man carries some calling cards in his pocket. They contain his name, position, and place of work, and,
[11] In completing sentences such as "the neighbors are," those who have lived in a community for a long time express a more positive attitude toward the community than do newcomers. While older wives express satisfaction with their neighbors, young wives who have moved in recently make such comments as "the neighbors are very talkative," "gossipy," "critical," "unfair," and the like. Such differences seem to reflect the length of time required for acceptance in a new community. Although this tendency was more pronounced in rural areas, the same general pattern is noted in the urban groups.
unless he wishes to keep it secret, his home address and perhaps his phone number. In exchanging name cards, he tries to mention a mutual acquaintance or a well-known friend in order to establish his own social position and break through the role of stranger. In some cases he may have a mutual acquaintance write a short note on his own name card, which can then be shown to avoid any doubts about the connection. The assumption clearly is that connections are helpful in obtaining favorable treatment. Women have fewer opportunities to greet outsiders and it is regarded as pretentious and overly independent for an ordinary wife to have a name card of her own.
If a person is properly introduced by an important friend he is likely to get good treatment, and there is a vague expectation that the important friend will return the favor. High-status people are given special consideration, and many Westerners are treated kindly because they are seen to have relatively high status. This is not a generalized friendliness, for many Mamachi residents complained of rudeness from people who had welcomed my wife and me very graciously.
When a person is properly introduced, even though the situation is still formal, he is likely to be greeted warmly. If handled skillfully the contact can be pleasant, but the atmosphere is contrived, and the laughing, though real, is impersonal. Mamachi residents are more frank than Westerners in clarifying social status, but more cautious in expressing personal opinions. Although undergoing some modifications since the war, a standardized etiquette prescribing relationships between people of different degrees of familiarity and of different social status remains widespread. The less familiar the acquaintance and the higher his social position above one's own, the more one uses honorific language, deep and frequent bows, impersonal expressions, humble body gestures, and self-depreciation. Although in recent years the polite language has tended to be simplified and the most honorific terms have become less common, distinctions indicating the degree of social distance between persons remain basic to the language and to the social interaction.
Although the foreign observer is struck by the amount of protocol, it must be remembered that, when he is present, the situation is likely to be more formal than it would be otherwise. He is also
impressed with the amount of skill, sensitivity, and considerateness of Mamachi residents in handling each properly introduced person and each new situation smoothly. It is not surprising that they consider foreigners brash. The skills of dealing with acquaintances are cultivated to a much higher degree of refinement by a resident of Mamachi than by a comparable member of the American middle class. The skilled person is able to find just the right level of politeness. Overly polite language or incessant bowing would create as uncomfortable a situation as would overly familiar treatment. The goal in such situations is naturalness in according the other person the respect appropriate to his age and status. There is a proper way to treat inferiors just as there is a proper way to treat superiors.
The exceptionally skilled person who feels at home in formal situations and relates easily to people whom he has just met is much admired as an aid in promoting smooth relationships between strangers.[12] Even if an ordinary person handles acquaintances adequately, underneath he usually feels a strain. The aggressive, talkative individual frequently serves a social function similar to the skilled person. Others seem to be relieved to have him take the responsibility to keep things moving even though he may be basically unpopular. On the one hand the group may give him the "go ahead"; on the other hand they dislike him as too aggressive.
Such persons are crucial in settings where people do not know each other well, for otherwise they are likely to remain reserved. Mamachi residents are undoubtedly sincere when they say it is unpleasant for them to have to put up with so many formalities, not only because of the stiffness, but because it interferes with dealing with the matters for which the group was originally called together.
Formality, when compounded with the uncertainties of relative status, can lead to difficult situations. For example, when a group is seated in a drawing room, the most honored person is placed near the tokonoma, a special decorative alcove on one wall of the room. If several people of about equal status enter the room, each man may insist that another take the honored position, and con-
[12] This is also one of the crucial functions of the geishas employed by the more successful businessmen. Salaried families generally call on children or talented friends to serve this role.
siderable time may elapse before a decision is reached and everyone can sit down. Sometimes it happens that everyone humbly refuses to take the honored seat and it is left empty. Participants in such polite bickering are likely to find the situation taxing rather than amusing, but nevertheless they hesitate to be immodest by taking the seat themselves. This problem never arises in the presence of someone of clearly higher status. The higher-status person would graciously, with a slight show of modesty, accept the honor.
If formalities cause so much discomfort, one may ask why they continue in such force in these modern suburban families. One small part of the answer is that people derive aesthetic pleasure from forms and ceremonies. Many praise an elegant style of speech or writing, and many admire formalized rituals like the tea ceremony.
At the same time, the use of respectful language carries the connotation of higher-class behavior and careful upbringing. Many lower-class people explain that they haven't learned how to be properly polite, and many upper-class children still get special training which performs the same function as a finishing school. Since many Mamachi families have come from rural areas within the last generation or so, they perhaps are more concerned than other groups about their speech, behavior, background, and the art of social intercourse and politeness. Showing the proper reserve, like using the appropriate respectful language, is considered the mark of a refined person. While at times they wish they could be more frank, Mamachi residents still have more respect for the reserved person than for the outspoken individual.
Many people, especially the women, have had little experience in meeting strangers and are unsure of how to act. Often, a person with long experience in meeting different groups has a confidence which permits him to avoid formalities and to break through the stiff barriers. Most Mamachi residents do not have the confidence or the breadth of experience to allow themselves this freedom.
Higher-status people are often as reserved as the lower classes in meeting strangers, not because of lack of confidence, but because they are afraid that too great a display of friendliness will result in difficult demands being made on them.
Part of the reason that formalities exist is that strangers exist.
Formalities make it possible to be polite but cautious. In a group of strangers, it is difficult to tell precisely what possible connections and powers the other person might have, and hence it is wise to avoid doing or saying anything that might give offense. It follows that it is prudent to avoid committing oneself to views with which the other person might disagree. If questioned directly about his opinions, it is safer to give a polite but ambiguous answer. Children, questioned by adults they do not know well, may try to charm the adult by giggling or smiling, but if unsure of themselves they may give no answer at all. If asked about their career plans when not sure they will realize their ambitions, children may say simply that they do not know or have not thought about it, even if they have discussed the same matters with their parents or intimate friends. Foreigners visiting Japan, while charmed by the gracious hospitality, often find it difficult to get their Japanese acquaintances to express true feelings. If the foreigner presses, the host probably will express some opinion. But the standard Mamachi strategy is first to try to get the foreigner to express his opinion and then to agree with it, preferably with new arguments and examples to back it up. Indeed, nearly all foreign observers, even ones of widely different persuasion, have been pleased to find that their impressions of Japan were confirmed by their polite hosts. To the Mamachi resident it is considerate rather than deceitful to agree with a guest's expressed opinion and to keep quiet about his own feelings to the contrary. The Mamachi resident finds some validity in what the other person is saying and he simply highlights this side of the truth rather than presenting contrary evidence. This is being both truthful and properly respectful, but in case of doubt, showing proper respect is probably more important.
By keeping relationships impersonal, a Mamachi resident also avoids revealing information about his own friends that might threaten the solidarity of his group. Even if a person has negative feelings toward members of his group, he carefully avoids expressing them in front of strangers. As in the traditional Japanese proverb, even brothers who quarrel within their gate are united against outsiders. As much as one may want to develop close relationships with an outsider, one does not accomplish this by revealing secrets or negative characteristics of members of his own group. To for-
eigners whom Mamachi residents meet casually, they may complain about Japanese in general, but not about members of their own group.
Elaborate ceremonies and politeness represent a way of maintaining contacts and ensuring courtesy to outsiders while protecting the boundaries of one's own group. The problem for the Mamachi resident is that old forms are changing, that different people follow different forms, and that in completely new situations it is not always clear which form to follow. In case of doubt, most people choose to be on the safe side, to be more rather than less formal. The risk of being considered too formal and polite is ordinarily not nearly so great as the risk of being considered rude and impolite.
Benefactors
In "traditional Japan"[13] obligations to benefactors were often lifelong and in some relationships, as between the tenant and the landlord, they were even inherited by their respective descendants. In Mamachi, most obligations are of much shorter duration and less diffuse. Because the salary man has security and is automatically entitled to welfare services through his firm, he has less need to incur personal obligations than most people. Although he does have some feeling of obligation to superiors at work, the most characteristic situation in which he incurs obligations is when a family member moves from one tightly-knit group to another: entering a school, obtaining a job, arranging marriage, or finding a house. Because urban society is more pluralistic than rural society there is more flexibility in determining which relationships will be used to obtain favors. One's relatives, classmates, former teachers, and work companions may all be used to provide the link between one group and another. Not only must the benefactor go to trouble to make the arrangements, but he must also assume some responsibility for the success of the arrangements. The recipient may not have had intimate relationships with the benefactor previously, but once he re-
[13] The expression is placed in quotations because recent historical research reflects many variations in tradition and because patterns were not always strictly adhered to regardless of these variations. However, the evidence suggests that obligations have been much stronger than they are at the present. For these traditional obligations see Ruth Benedict, The Chrysanthemum and the Sword, Boston: Houghton-Mifflin, 1946.
ceives an important favor, he feels an appreciation and obligation which is not completely discharged on a mere contractual basis.
All human relationships in all societies result in some duties, but it is only when the feeling of obligation to the other person is stronger than the feeling of affection that one is particularly conscious of the obligation.[14] In the relationships of children to parents, wives to husbands, younger siblings to older siblings, one is ordinarily not so conscious of the obligations because the feelings of affection are so strong.[15] One does favors for friends without thinking of them as obligations; but without a close personal relationship the feeling of obligation may be keen, and the relationship tense.
Often, of course, there is a very thin line between kindness and a feeling of obligation.[16] For example, one Mamachi father reported that on a fishing trip to an isolated area he became extremely thirsty and stopped to ask a farmer for a glass of water. He was promptly given the water, and since he was pleased, he gave a small coin to one of the children. It probably was not necessary for him to do so, but he was grateful and felt that the money he could easily afford would mean more to the small child than it did to him. Later, while the man was waiting for his bus at a nearby bus stop, the boy and his mother brought him several rice cakes. In this case, neither the giving of the coin nor the returning of the rice cakes were required and neither need be considered an obligation. They were probably more an expression of kind feeling than of duty. If, on the other hand, a person is given a party or a present by an acquaintance with whom he is not particularly friendly, he will probably feel an obligation to return this favor, particularly if it is clear that the other person gave the party in the hope of receiving a favor. The returning
[14] Cf. A. R. Radcliffe-Brown, "Introduction," African Systems of Kinship and Marriage, London: Oxford University Press, 1950.
In the immediate postwar period giri and gimu were the center of enormous public concern and debate. It may be suggested this concern reflected the postwar upheaval and the weakening of ties between relatives. In that period many acts which had previously been sufficiently internalized to be considered kindness came to be thought of as obligations.
[15] Cf. Ruth Benedict, op. cit., for a detailed account of the traditional values connected with obligation.
[16] Cf. Takashi Koyama, Gendai Kazoku no Kenkyuu (An Investigation of the Contemporary Family), Tokyo: Koobundoo, 1960.
of this favor would be considered more of an obligation than a kindness.
In previous times (and even today in smaller enterprises) the most crucial and all-encompassing obligation was to the person responsible for the husband's livelihood. Even in the large bureaucratic firm, there is a diffuse personal relationship between superior and subordinate which goes beyond contractual relationships. The emotional tie with the superior is not as relaxed as that between equals, but is often very strong, and there is an air of intimacy as great or greater than in similar relationships in the West. Yet in areas of the superior's personal involvement, the subordinate is reserved and deferent. Exactly how an employee expresses his wishes or complaints depends on his relationship to his superior. If a superior makes a mistake, an inferior with a good relationship would point out the mistake directly, taking necessary precautions not to embarrass the superior. If he did not have a good relationship, he might engage in circumlocutions to avoid saying it was a mistake. As much as he might hope that the superior would discover his own mistake, he would do precisely what his superior asked him to do, regardless of how unreasonable it might appear to him. The subordinate concerned about his superior's approval asks for directions and follows them with scrupulous care, thus relieving himself of responsibility and avoiding the risk of criticism. If the superior does not specify what is to be done, as embarrassing as it may be to ask for more directions, the inferior probably would apologize for his own stupidity or indicate by vague facial expressions that he did not understand. In this way he can elicit more precise instructions and avoid even more serious embarrassment later.
A devoted employee often praises his superior, telling him how nice he looks, how capable he is, how much he knows, and the like. This flattery keeps the employee in good grace and the superior in good spirits. At times, it appears that one of the responsibilities of the inferior is to help the superior maintain his self-confidence. Often the superior seems as dependent on the praise of his subordinates as they are on his approval. Although flattery, if clearly insincere, has just as negative an effect among the residents of Mamachi as anywhere in the world, our impression is that the people of Mamachi generally compliment with skill and sincerity and that
compliments usually bring favorable responses. Not having firm independent evaluations of their own behavior, superiors seem as responsive to group opinion as inferiors.
Conversely, criticism often has a devastating effect. If an employee is criticized he will be upset even if he tries to avoid blame by saying that he was not told or that someone else was responsible. If he really feels the criticism unjust or is angry with his boss, he simply may put up a wall of silence. But a person usually worries a great deal about his standing with his superior, and will apologize for his mistake and promise to do better, even though he may not think himself entirely to blame. If criticism continues, he may begin depreciating himself for his own stupidity, selfishness, inattention, lack of education, poor family background, and the like. In such a state, he would do almost anything to make amends and win back the grace of his superior.[17]
The subordinate, in his desire to obtain approval from his superior, may probe with a comment like: "Since you have a special guest, I tried to cook a special little cake. I prepared it very badly, please excuse me." If the subordinate has done his work at all well, he will be rewarded with the compliment he was fishing for. If he feels that he has been neglected by his superior, he may depreciate and criticize himself saying he is stupid and incompetent. In this way he elicits his employer's attention and response. Such statements are humbly given, but in a certain context they clearly mean that he is concerned about his being treated so badly.
While these patterns characterize many subordinate-superior relationships even in the large bureaucratic firm, it is often said that the very talented employee does not have to display such deference and demeanor. Indeed the capable and confident young man often can be very straight-forward in dealing with his superior while the one most worried about his ability to please a superior will be the most careful about his demeanor and will work hardest to fulfill his tasks to the letter of the law.
[17] In the sentence completion the most common response to the item, "if I am ignored," was one of extreme annoyance and anger. On the other hand, to the item, "if I am warned (about something) or criticized by my superior" the most common response was one of willingness to acknowledge mistakes or try to correct them; some even would express appreciation of their superior's calling it to their attention.
Regardless of the subordinate's behavior, the superior is usually very direct about what he wants done. Unlike some Americans who feel obliged to persuade or coax their subordinates because of their democratic ideology, the Mamachi superior does not hesitate to give specific orders. At the same time, his authority does not prevent magnanimity and kindness, and in fact he wants to be thought of as a kind man. It is true that some superiors take advantage of their subordinates, making them prostrate themselves to request every little favor, and then innocently respond as if they simply had not realized that the subordinate wanted something. Most superiors, however, though authoritarian, are interested in the welfare of their workers.
The relationship of the maid to the mistress of the house tends to be even more all-encompassing than the relationship between the salary man and his superior. Yet, with the increasing scarcity of the labor supply and the rising costs, the number of maids has greatly decreased, and only the wealthiest salary men, along with the successful independent professionals and successful businessmen, can still afford household help. Nevertheless, many Mamachi families have had such household help until recently, and a few still do. The most common source of help is the country girl who comes to a household when about sixteen or seventeen and works there for a few years until she returns to the country to get married. To work in a better home is still considered good training for marriage, and formerly, as one man stated jokingly, "it was as hard for a maid to get into a really good home as for an honor student to get into Tokyo University." When one servant returns to the country, often a friend or relative takes her place at the same house and serves her turn of several years. Often there is a succession of maids from the same rural village going to work in the same household. Generally a servant works from early morning until late at night, but the actual physical work is not particularly demanding, and while always on duty she is not always working. When the maid first arrives in Mamachi, she is generally cautious and obedient, and what feelings she has she keeps to herself, taking special care not to reveal any signs of discontent. Once she becomes familiar with her surroundings, she can be more relaxed with the lady of the house, particularly if she knows she is performing her work ably and pleasing her
mistress. For many purposes the maid is treated as a member of the family, albeit a low-status one, and just as the housewife has no days off, so the servant works all week. She may be called upon for virtually any kind of personal service or help. Usually the lady of the house will later help find a suitable spouse, contribute money toward her dowry, give her household goods or clothing, and perhaps even help with problems which arise after her marriage. After marriage a maid might have a chance to visit the city, and if so she would certainly bring her children to show the lady of the house. Once the actual period of service is over, most obligations end, but often a closeness remains which makes it possible for the servant to return to her former mistress in time of need. The hiring process, the nature of the work, and the nature of the relationship once the period of service is over all go far beyond mere contractual relationships.
While live-in maids virtually have vanished from the ordinary salaried family, many features of that relationship are found in the position of relatives living in the same household. If, for example, a married man's sister is still single when the parents die, she may come to live with him and his wife, since it is still thought uneconomical and cruel for her to live alone. The brother and his wife usually provide board and room and help her find a suitable spouse or, in the meantime, help her find some kind of work. In return, it is expected that the sister will be obedient to the wife and will help with the household chores. In this relationship, however, the subordination of the unmarried sister is not as clearly defined as the subordination of the maid, and there is likely to be considerable conflict, especially if the single sister is older than the wife, has a close relationship with her brother, or is not particularly enthusiastic in fulfilling her household responsibilities. In one family, for example, the husband's younger sister spent much time at home and was very friendly with her brother but gave only a minimum of household help to her sister-in-law. Antagonism covered by a stiff politeness developed between the wife and the sister and became increasingly severe. Although the situation improved after the husband, at the wife's request, intervened to ask his sister to be more cooperative in the house, the tension continued until the sister's marriage, and the wife's complaints continued for some time afterward.
Although the younger sister is one of the most common additions to the nuclear family, it is also common to have one or more grandparents or a nephew (or niece) from the country while he is attending a Tokyo school. These relatives, either on the father's or the mother's side, often complain that they are being treated unfairly, much like step children, whereas the family is likely to complain of the burden imposed upon them by such a child or his parents. While at any one time most families do not have somebody living with them, at some time in the life cycle most families will have the experience of providing for relatives. How a kinsman is treated may be governed in part by comparative age, degree of closeness, and the like, but even a close relative has a diffuse obligation to his host which he repays by yielding to his wishes and assisting with work around the house. One kind grandfather, for example, very conscious of the fact that he was an economic burden on the household, refused to eat any of the more expensive food and was reluctant to complain when he thought the grandchildren were too noisy.
Although some families may have such long-term and all-encompassing relationships, every family is likely to have been benefactor or recipient of small favors. Because almost everyone has a number of friends from school, work, kinship, and neighborhood, there is considerably more room for manipulation of these contacts. If, for example, Mr. A has done you a favor and you have done Mr. B a favor, you may arrange for Mr. B to do a favor for Mr. A. Or if you have not yet done Mr. B a favor, you might still arrange for him to do a favor for Mr. A with the expectation that you would be glad to do him a good turn at some time later.
Sometimes a Mamachi resident wishes to build up a feeling of obligation on the part of a person who may be of assistance at a later time. Since it is not proper to go directly to the person and ask for a favor, one must first establish a good relationship through favors or presents. It is possible to begin such a relationship through a mutual acquaintance if one does not know the other person; once introduced, one can begin the process of building up the obligation.
Of course, there is considerable variation among individuals in their skill, sincerity, and aggressiveness in approaching others. Some people are too timid to approach a person for favors unless they are already intimate. Others think it is not honest to seek a favor unless
the relationship is a sincere one, and that it is wrong to be too aggressive in approaching a superior just to get favors for one's own limited ends. Others are fairly aggressive in making the acquaintance of strategic persons, giving them presents and performing various services for them in order to get what they desire. Many people are quite considerate of a superior's feelings and perceptive in discerning what presents or favors would be truly appreciated, and many are willing to give more help to the superior than they request in return. Virtually everyone is concerned about pleasing a superior and is upset if the superior should indicate some displeasure to him.
While Americans may consider it bribery to give presents in anticipation of later favors, many people in Mamachi consider it brash and impudent to do otherwise. Yet Mamachi residents also are uncomfortable in receiving unsolicited gifts because of the expectation that they will be called on to return the favor, and their discomfort is likely to be tinged with annoyance if the giver seems particularly aggressive, persistent, or insensitive in making unreasonable demands.
Often the prospective recipient will try to prevent such gifts, especially if they are in anticipation of favors which he cannot reasonably perform. It is sometimes difficult to refuse a present gracefully, but the recipient quickly can give a return present to neutralize, or at least minimize, the obligation. Sometimes an obligation simply has to be overlooked. For example, a private-school principal who receives several presents for every vacancy in the school has no alternative but to express neutral appreciation and ignore the gifts since he cannot admit all donors.
Sometimes a person, although willing to be of assistance, is unable to fulfill a specific request. If success is doubtful, he probably would try to do what he can but would explain the difficulties beforehand so as to prevent the other party from being disappointed. Through promptness, kindness, and thoroughness, he would demonstrate the extent of his efforts so that failure would not be considered intentional. If he did not show such sincerity, his failure would be interpreted as unwillingness because the only polite way to refuse a request is to announce that there were problems and difficulties which made it impossible to fulfill.
Many people are cautious about accepting even small requests since they may entail a great deal of responsibility. One woman, for example, was asked to introduce an appropriate young man to her friend's daughter but not to go to any trouble. She refused the request, later explaining to my wife that she could not make an introduction so casually. If, for example, the young man later refused the girl, not only would it be embarrassing for both the girl and the go-between, but it could also hurt the girl's self-confidence for future introductions. This seemingly simple request had too many ramifications to be taken lightly.
There are various reasons why an introduction might not work out well, and all reflect on the services of the go-between. One introduction failed because one party arrived at an inappropriate time at the other person's house, causing embarrassment. In this case, the go-between's relations with both parties were too formal to allow her to ask when a convenient time for introductions could be arranged. Introductions often backfire if not enough care has been taken and not enough questions asked. The successful introducer must have a relationship with both parties that enables him to be frank without giving offense. But no matter how skilled the go-between may be, his work requires thought and planning, and he ordinarily takes his obligation seriously.
Even two acquaintances may negotiate through go-betweens, but they ordinarily approach each other directly, dropping hints to see if the other is willing to perform the service desired. For example, as we became more obligated to the people who were helping us with our research, many subtly began asking for favors. For one thing they wanted to learn English from us. They did not ask us directly but dropped hints by saying, for example, that their child, who was studying English in school, had difficulty with his pronunciation and had we any suggestions as to how he might improve. While we might have recommended listening to a tape recorder or a radio, we felt a certain pressure to volunteer our services since we had received favors from them. (We did volunteer, and we feel it made a significant difference in obtaining their co-operation on our project.)
It is also not usually necessary to go through go-betweens to approach a relative, but closer relatives may be used to convey a
request to distant relatives. It is difficult to refuse these requests even though the demands seem unreasonable. For example, if a younger sister is pressed by her parents to help an older brother financially she may feel that she cannot refuse even if it means she must draw upon her husband's savings. Although she might be reluctant to sacrifice for a brother, she is likely to accept more readily the responsibility of contributing to the support of aging parents. But contributing to the brother's and in some cases to the father's finances and having to ask her husband to provide this help is likely to be considered an unwelcome duty and tends to stiffen relationships with the family. Such problems receive considerable attention in popular literature and on TV and radio.
If all people in Japan had the economic security that salary men have, it would rarely be necessary to rely on personal benefactors for economic aid. Indeed, salary men rarely need such assistance. But there are many other groups in Japan who do not have this security and who, because of their particularistic relations with a salary man by virtue of kinship or friendship, feel they have legitimate claims to help from them. Salary men generally prefer to avoid entanglements with relatives, but they do consider it only proper to give aid to parents and, in special cases, to brothers, sisters, or close relatives on both sides of the family.[18] Beyond the assistance given to aged parents, the most common help they give is to rural family members who come to Tokyo for school or work. In contrast to the time when the fathers or grandfathers first came to the city, rural families now look up to the migrants to the city. They see the salary man as a man of power, comfort, and leisure. The rapid rise in the urban standard of living compared to the rural has exaggerated the difference, and the desire of the rural dwellers for education and placement of children often makes them dependent on the urban kin. One man reported that when he goes back to his native village, not only does he have little in common with old acquaintances, but he is treated with such overwhelming respect that he feels uncomfortable. Most people of Mamachi have sympathy for people in the rural areas. They remember or have heard about the arduous lives which their forebears led when they lived
[18] Cf. Yoshiharu Scott Matsumoto, The Individual and His Group, Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1960.
in the rural areas, and since many of them have not been to the country for many years, they are unaware of the extent of recent progress and imagine present-day rural life to be worse than it is. Some feel guilty for leading such comfortable lives while the farmer still has such hardships.
Furthermore, many Mamachi families became indebted to their rural relatives in the latter part of the war and the early postwar period when they sent their children and wives to the country to escape the air raids and to be near the source of food. Although the farm people were having trouble providing for themselves and were not always hospitable to the newcomers, they were often a considerable help. The people of Mamachi remember this with gratitude. However, the soldiers or overseas colonists who returned after the war are often bitter that their rural relatives did not give them more help. When they returned to the rural areas just after the war to set up a new life, many found that former friends or relatives ignored them. At that time farmers were commonly chary with assistance. They were in difficult straits themselves with shortages even more severe than during the wartime, but they welcomed the more affluent Mamachi evacuees more enthusiastically than the impoverished returnees from overseas who were in no position to return the favors.
Salary men are not as troubled by requests from rural areas as independent businessmen, who are frequently asked to offer employment. Nevertheless, some salary men receive similar requests, particularly if they are in companies which have openings for people lacking special technical skills. For many Mamachi families requests to find openings for rural relatives pose serious problems. Because a Mamachi family may be the only city contacts the country relatives have, the Mamachi resident feels responsibility for trying to find an opening in the city, but these openings are usually scarce, and the responsibility is a heavy burden.
Most people of Mamachi reported that they go back to the rural areas less often than they should. While they feel they ought to go back at least once a year for the traditional ceremonies honoring departed family and ancestors, many have not been to the ancestral home for years. By not returning they can avoid the presents and favors which are given in the hope of assistance in placing children in
Tokyo. If they do go back they try to stay only a short time and to see only the most intimate friends. However, the villages are small and news travels quickly, and at least some of those expecting to go to Tokyo are likely to come around with presents. In making a request the rural person entrusts everything to his city benefactor and conveys the feeling that his entire life depends on the benefactor's willingness to help. While guilty about his failure to help the needy people in the country, the Mamachi resident is caught between their dependence on him and the likelihood that he will be unable to help them. The result is often an effort to avoid the situation no matter how much one would like to see relatives or the ancestral home. If help is asked by letter, such avoidance would take the form of not answering or writing a noncommittal reply.
Success in job placements for rural friends or relatives imposes continuing burdens. One salary man, for example, has been successful in getting several village people jobs as boiler men and other laboring jobs in his organization. Since the young people are new to the city and know almost no one other than this sponsor, their parents look to him for supervision in the city. He must see that the boys do not get into trouble or marry the wrong kind of girl, and this responsibility cannot be taken lightly. When the sponsor and his wife visit the rural areas they are greeted with many presents and honored by the boys' parents and by other people hoping to place their children in the city. In this particular company, the boys worked out well, so the company is willing to use this village as one of its sources of unskilled labor. The company's view is that since the boys are known to one of the important salary men in the firm, they are likely to be more reliable and to do better and harder work than people with no such contacts. To show their appreciation these boys frequently come to the house of their sponsor and offer various kinds of help. For example, they do the annual New Year's house-cleaning. The home of their sponsor becomes their home away from home, a place to relax or to find help with their personal problems.[19]
[19] The problem of relatives or people from the country visiting or imposing upon urban families is a common theme in modern Japanese stories. In one television serial "home drama" during our stay in Japan, the story concerned a distant relative who came to visit an urban family posing as a close old friend even though theurban family could not exactly recall him. The story was filled with amusing incidents centering on the impositions he made on his hosts. For example, the visitor ate voraciously and was caught by the husband of the house in a midnight raid on the icebox.
Friends
Close friendships in Mamachi usually are limited to a small group of the same sex. Within this group people are relaxed and do not worry about formalities. They can talk and joke about their innermost concerns. It is partly the sharp contrast between seeing a close friend and a mere acquaintance that makes contacts with outsiders seem so stiff. This is in contrast to the United States, where one may be friendly with a casual acquaintance. The visitor to Japan who does not appreciate the difference in behavior toward friends and acquaintances is likely to consider the Japanese as more formal than they actually are.[20]
With close friends, one can argue, criticize, and be stubborn without endangering the relationship. There is inevitably a great deal of laughter mixed with mutual support and respect. In relationships of obligation, no matter how hard people try to relax the atmosphere, no matter how humorous or nice they are, some tension is inevitable. With true friends, even if small obligations develop they generally do not cause any serious problem because it is clear to everyone that these minor duties are only incidental to the friendship.
A few residents of Mamachi have close friends from school days with whom they still keep contact, although their meetings tend to be infrequent, perhaps once or twice a year. When they do meet, they enjoy themselves immensely, catching up on past events, exchanging gossip, swapping complaints. With old classmates one can talk about problems at work that are difficult to talk about with friends at work.
Most of the closest friendships, however, are between people in constant contact. The husband's friends are his co-workers, the wife's friends are her neighbors. These relationships are remarkably intimate. If, for example, a wife has difficulty with her husband, as most wives do at one time or another, she may turn to her neighbor-
[20] While Japanese like formalities, there is a systematic overestimation of their formality by Western observes, who see them on more formal situations.
hood friends for support and suggestions for dealing with them. She may describe an argument with her husband and ask whether it is wise to apologize or to remain firm in her wishes. Most wives say that they feel freer in talking to other wives than to their husbands, and they tell other wives many things they would not tell their husbands. The same is true for the men, who generally feel freer in talking to their close working associates about certain things than to their wives.
Even the most formal of women may be informal with her close friends. One proper middle-aged lady, for example, told my wife of an overnight trip with three or four women friends to a special hotsprings, one of the few places where both men and women can still bathe together. Although they were too modest to bathe during the day with other people, they secretly bathed there during the night when no one else was around. They laughed like schoolgirls about what they would have done if a man had come. Another lady told my wife how she and her small group of friends had come upon a fertility shrine, shaped like the male sexual organs. Although most women were too embarrassed to say anything, the most courageous member of the group asked the caretaker of the shrine many questions about the history of some displayed instruments which had been used by court ladies. The more bashful ladies listened to the discussion and laughed with amusement afterward, expressing appreciation for the courage of the one who had asked the questions and speculating about the possible satisfaction which could be derived from such instruments. These same ladies are very formal, stiff, and polite outside their group. They even tease each other about the politeness of their bowing and the stiffness of their formalities which they notice on other occasions.
Generally members of the most intimate group are of roughly the same status, but where status differences exist, they are acknowledged and do not seriously interfere with the closeness of the group. In a group of friends from work, for example, if one is treated as a "fair-haired boy" by his superior, he may be accorded more respect by his peers. Similarly among wives of the same social position, if one is slightly older or has more experience than the others, she may be listened to as an expert on certain kinds of questions. Such true friendships may take years to develop, but since there is rela-
tively little movement of the man from company to company or of the wife from neighborhood to neighborhood, once made they are seldom broken.
Techniques of Social Control
Because most groups are so stable and because people in the same group know each other intimately over long periods of time, social control does not ordinarily require overt reward and punishment or even the direct expression of negative feeling, something most Mamachi residents consider crude and unnecessary. Because people are so limited in the number of groups to which they belong they are very responsive even to subtle changes in attitude.[21] This responsiveness and sensitivity makes the techniques of ignoring, overlooking, and postponing very effective instruments of social control. Although close friendship makes possible a wide range of behavior without creating antagonism, one is cautious not to go beyond acceptable bounds. A good group member never gossips about a friend to an outsider since it might get back to his friend, but he often gossips about outsiders to a friend.
The most effective way of dealing with a person who has caused difficulty is through the collusion of a group in rejecting him. The residents of Mamachi still use the expression idobata kaigi (the meeting around the well) to describe a group of women getting together to gossip about local events. Some of the suburban women jokingly comment that the new idobata kaigi is no longer at the well but at the playground where mothers exchange their views while watching their children's play. If a group of women together decide to ignore another woman, she can be devastated. While to my knowledge no one in Mamachi has been expelled from the community for violating the customs and morals (mura hachibu ), the same term and method is still used socially to isolate a disliked person. People are, in effect, shut out from groups for their aggressiveness, egotism, or failure to live up to their group responsibilities. This sanction is effective in Mamachi because the mother who lacks
[21] In the sentence-completion test, one of the commonest answers to the item "most feared" was "rumors." Similarly, in the item, "what do you dislike most" many people responded "rumors." Judging from the frequency with which rumors were spontaneously mentioned, they are a potent force in Japanese lives; more so in rural villages, but still powerful in suburban Tokyo.
informal acceptance in her PTA group virtually has no other place to turn, and a husband rejected by his work group has no other opportunity for developing close friends. Quiet group pressures can be very effective.
The rules of politeness require very indirect ways for expressing disapproval and disagreement, and even fellow Mamachi residents sometimes have difficulty distinguishing between postponement and refusal, between exaggerated flattery connoting criticism and sincere praise, between a vague agreement meaning no and a vague agreement meaning a weak yes. Sometimes, of course, even the speaker may not be clear what his own final response will be.
But usually the general meaning, even from subtle clues, is perfectly clear. All that is unclear is the reason underlying the response. When a person complains that he cannot tell exactly what another is feeling, this almost always means that the other did not give a sufficiently positive response, but that one does not know why. Such vague replies often create anxieties greater than a direct explanation would create. Many people who are refused feel there is something wrong with them, and the diffuse nature of the rejection by postponement, avoidance, or vagueness is often felt as an attack on one's entire character. Undifferentiated emotional responses of fear, anger, or self-depreciation are common.
These subtle means of refusal are not unknown in the West but they are used much more frequently in Japan, and the implication is generally more negative than would be true in the West. If someone who has come to ask assistance begins by saying, "I am so and so. Do you remember me?" an effective refusal would be to say, "I don't think I remember" or "I am not sure" or to misunderstand purposefully the implication, then to resume talking in a friendly manner. The initial pause, the hesitation, and the refusal to acknowledge the memory is ordinarily sufficient to express the negative feelings and, in effect, constitutes a refusal to consider the request regardless of what polite conversation or formal assent is later expressed. Avoidance is also more widely used and accepted as a technique for refusal. If a man schedules an appointment with an unwilling acquaintance, the acquaintance simply may not show up. When they meet again, ordinarily it would be rude to mention the missed appointment. If the other person should be so bold as to
remind him, even subtly, of the appointment, the other person would express innocent surprise as if he had not really realized that a meeting was intended or he would profess that it completely had slipped his mind, and a man is not held responsible for forgetting, even if the unconscious motivation is clear.
Even with all these indirect means of expression the Mamachi resident feels that he has more opportunity to express his wishes than did the people in "traditional Japan," without being so crude as foreigners. If, for example, a man wants to eat soon, he may say to the friend with whom he is talking, "You must be hungry since it is getting so late," or "You must be tired." After a few repetitions of these comments, the friend will usually take a hint. Some people in Mamachi have trouble giving hints or expressing disagreement without becoming aggressive. Yet many skillful residents of Mamachi, in their own quiet and indirect way, have effective ways of making their opinions felt without being impolite.
One might have expected that these opportunities for increased frankness and the new opportunities for movement created by urbanization and industrialization would have weakened the power of small groups to control their members' behavior. This has not happened, and if anything the growth of the large bureaucratic structure has created increased stability which reinforces the ability of the small group to control its members.
The effectiveness of each group in controlling its members rests partly on its success in keeping the exclusive loyalty of its members. In Mamachi, an individual rarely has divided loyalties which would make it difficult to control his behavior because generally he has only one group outside the family which is the object of his primary commitment: the work group for the man, the neighborhood group for the woman, and the school group for the child. Even for higher-status salary men, who have more responsibility in community-wide organizations, no other outside group is permitted to interfere with this primary commitment. Each individual is also committed to his family, but the demands of the family are carefully isolated from the demands of the other groups. The effective isolation of the family from contact with the husband's place of work insures that work considerations are separated from family considerations. Similarly the separation of the husband from participation in the
wife's neighborhood activities ensures that he will not interfere with her group. Each group has virtually complete autonomy, and the opportunity for family loyalties to conflict with other group loyalties is minimized.
The effectiveness of the group in controlling the behavior of its members rests in part on the long-term commitment of the members to the group. But it goes beyond this, for, even in going to a new group, it is necessary to have an introduction. In some Western societies, if a person has difficulty with others in his group, he simply moves elsewhere. In Mamachi, even moving requires the support of one's group.[22] One moves from one tightly-knit group to another, by way of bridges[23] provided by the two groups. There is no promising alternative for a person except to remain sensitive to the demands of his group.
[22] Japanese children in explaining why they wish one occupation over another are more likely to mention the influence or connection with a relative. Even if American children learned about the occupation from someone else, they would not mention a relative as a reason for choosing another occupation. Cf. Mary Ellen Goodman, "Values, Attitudes, and Social Concepts of Japanese and American Children," American Anthropologist , 1957, 59:989 f.
[23] The expression "hashi watashi o suru" which is used to mean "act as a go-between" literally means to carry across a bridge.
Chapter VII—
Basic Values
Citizens of Communist countries may not enthusiastically approve all aspects of Marxism, yet Marxism provides an integrated system of values which expresses their basic purposes and gives meaning to their existence. Similarly, citizens of Western countries can point to democracy and individualism as principles embodying their way of life. In contrast, Mamachi residents do not have an articulated system of thought which embodies their fundamental beliefs. The recent rapid changes in society have weakened faith in statements of traditional ideology and no new system of consistent and widely accepted values has emerged. As many Japanese scholars have noted, whereas the Germans responded to defeat by reasserting their prewar values without seriously re-examining them, most Japanese responded by questioning their view of life and submitting it to an agonizing reappraisal from which it never recovered.
The formal statements of Confucian and Shinto ideology, though widely accepted before the war, are now so closely identified with the "feudalistic" past and tainted by association with the militarism and superpatriotism of World War II that today few Mamachi residents can accept them without serious modification. Few believe, for example, that the husband should sacrifice his family in order to serve his superior. On the other hand, many Mamachi residents believe that although democracy and individualism might help point the way to a new value system, they often are only a justification for selfishness and therefore not a solid basis for morality. They cannot admire, for example, a philosophy that permits an individual to look out for himself even if it means neglecting aged parents. A modified Marxism appeals to some youths and intellectually oriented residents of Mamachi, but the application of Marxism
seems so cruel and absolute that it has little appeal to the vast majority of Mamachi residents. They cannot, for example, admire the manner in which the Hungarian revolt was crushed.
The lack of a clearly formulated and widely accepted value system has led to a willingness and even eagerness to question the most fundamental aspects of their traditional beliefs and to consider what elements of the Western value system are worth adopting. Many are willing to question views of those in authority that would previously have been accepted without hesitation—for example, the necessity of accepting suffering and hard work that was previously thought natural, inevitable, and even character-building. They question the necessity of keeping ceremonies and formalities which symbolize traditional values and status relationships. Not only men but women, children, and employees can be more open and direct in raising questions about traditional practices.
Although these questions are still discussed, they are not as omnipresent as they were immediately after the war. In large part, this is because, despite the lack of a clearly formulated statement of values, there is in fact a high level of consensus among Mamachi residents about what is desirable. Many of the soul-searching discussions rest on common assumptions about what is desirable, and the soul-searching is often merely an attempt to find a system of values which would make explicit and rationalize these widely accepted assumptions. The existence of this working consensus about what is desirable has made the lack of a clearly formulated system of values less of a critical problem than it might be otherwise. Many people occupy themselves with their daily activities without worrying about the problem of developing an integrated philosophy of life. Perhaps because of their disillusionment with the values they were taught until the end of World War II some are even suspicious of any formal statements of ideology, as if ideologies were by nature old-fashioned, superstitious, arbitrary, or misleading. Many prefer to think that they have no particular values and explain their behavior not as resulting from convictions or values, but from situations or customs, as if they had not internalized the customs. Many eagerly discuss various philosophies of life as if the philosophies had nothing to do with their own convictions. They will say, for example, that in old Japan the belief was such and such, but that in
modern Japan it is different. They compare American democracy with European existentialism and the Japanese tradition, but as they say this, it is almost as if they were separate from what they describe as the Japanese point of view. They may say, "The Japanese view is . . ." or "Traditionally, Japanese thought . . ." or "Modern Japanese think . . ." Few say, "We (or I) believe . . ." or "We are convinced that . . ."[1]
Although the existence of an underlying consensus about what is desirable has made the lack of a formally stated and integrated consensus tolerable, this lack does pose problems for Mamachi groups in at least three different areas. One of these is the area of the socialization of new members of a group, because without clear precepts fully ordered into a system of thought there is no clear rationale to answer questions which arise. In the absence of general principles, loyalty can be taught only by precept and example. The concept is passed on from one generation to the next not by a standard creed, but by illustrations, stories, folk sayings, and proverbs. One hears, for example, the tale about the forty-seven ronin , who sacrificed their lives for their lord, which has a moral of loyalty to one's master or to his group. The annual Boys' Festival celebrates a hero named Benkei, a samurai who was absolutely devoted in serving his master. Similar folk tales honor people in high positions who have sacrificed themselves for the group. For example, there is the story of the rich landlord who gave up his land so a river could be rerouted in order to save his village, or the story of the man who set his hill-top house on fire to attract the people on the beach unable to see the approaching tidal wave which threatened them. Although youngsters can gradually acquire values from these stories without a formal creed, if a youth raises questions about these values, there are no well-considered answers.
Many parents are concerned that their children are not being taught moral principles, and some openly support the movement to
[1] This is much the same phenomenon as that noted by Dore and Matsumoto regarding religion. In answer to the question, "What is your religion?" people commonly reply that they have none. In answer to the question, "What is your family's religion?" they commonly reply "Buddhism." Cf. Ronald Dore, City Life in Japan , Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1958; Yoshiharu Scott Matsumoto, Contemporary Japan , Philadelphia: The American Philosophical Society, 1960.
reintroduce traditional moral teaching into the school system. Even less conservative parents are afraid that the children of today who are not receiving the kind of moral guidance, training, and discipline that the parents received will be unable to withstand the difficulties ahead. Many parents believe that they persevered under duress because strict moral training and the experience of suffering had given them a strong moral fiber. They fear that their children, however, can be blown by the winds of fad and fiction because they have no moral grounding. Some observers see in such parents' views an attempt to rationalize the harsh training which they suffered, but there is much to support the contention that youths have been more receptive to fads because they lack an over-all system of beliefs. Some youngsters, looking for explanations, go through a period of trying out Marxist thought. Others strongly espouse the cause of individualism and liberalism. Some are nihilistic, rejecting all creeds. But many more listen and talk about different points of view without really developing any kind of firm commitment for there are no satisfactory patterned answers to the kinds of questions they raise.
The second problem posed by the lack of a clearly stated value system is the difficulty a group encounters in handling a deviant. The able deviant who openly shows up the inability of some other member, or receives favors without showing sufficient appreciation, or gossips about group members, or engages in selfish manipulations, or behaves as if he has a higher position than his actual status calls for can be a serious problem for a group to deal with. In the long run most groups have effective methods of placing social pressure on such a deviant, but when he first calls into question certain assumptions of the group, the group does not have a ready answer. Not only is there no answer to the deviant, but his challenge often creates doubts in the minds of others as to whether they are justified in opposing him, and it may take considerable time before his threat can be effectively curbed.[2]
Finally, there is something inherently unsatisfying about not hav-
[2] Even in the legal system, interpretation of the law has often had a flexibility by mutual agreement, mediation, etc. Cf. Arthur Taylor Von Mehren, ed., Law in Japan, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1963. Furthermore punishment has traditionally been more severe for offenses against close relations, especially to the father. Cf. Kurt Steiner, "A Japanese Cause Celebre: The Fukuoka Patricide Case," American Journal of Comparative Law, 1956, V:106–111.
ing an articulated value system. For people firmly attached to a group, the group can provide a sense of meaning and purpose, but those on the periphery or the outside have no sense of purpose. In modern Mamachi as more people come into contact with diverse groups and ideas, they feel dissatisfied with not having a sense of higher purpose and integrity to carry them through these different situations, but this dissatisfaction does not lead to a strong desire for a more articulated value system.
Because the informal consensus about values among residents of Mamachi provides a basic orientation for their daily lives, it is important to consider this consensus in some detail. It must be admitted that this attempt to state an unstated consensus is subject to many risks of error and cannot have the certitude an explanation of a formal creed would offer. However, by abstracting the patterns of belief that flow from the concrete expressions of evaluation of various people and their actions, the outlines of a value system do emerge. Although Mamachi residents would not consciously give the same interpretation of their values, the two general characteristics which strike a Western observer as being of fundamental importance are loyalty and competence.[3]
[3] Although I attempted to make these abstractions independently from other studies, I must admit that the strikingly similar findings of Bellah in his analysis of Tokugawa documents and of Matsumoto and of Caudill and Scarr in large-scale samplings of attitudes and value-orientations have sensitized me to these values. However, at a minimum, I have a number of independent observations which lend support to these findings. Bellah concluded that the fundamental societal values in the Tokugawa Period were "particularism" and "performance." The fact that these societal values correspond to "loyalty" and "competence," the qualities valued in personal behavior, would lend support to the view that there has been considerable continuity in the value system. Caudill and Scarr, using Florence Kluckhohn's value-orientation theory on large Japanese samples, found that in the activities sphere, the desired mode of behavior for Japanese is "doing," which corresponds to the individual quality I have termed "competence." Caudill and Scarr noted that collaterality was the preferred mode of relationship within the nuclear family and the work organization. Matsumoto and Ishida also noted the importance of collectivity orientation within the in-group and found that these relationships now tend to be directed more toward peers than to superiors and inferiors. Caudill and Scarr found, however, that outside the nuclear family and the immediate work group, the individualistic orientation is likely to be stronger. Cf. Robert N. Bellah, Tokugawa Religion, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1957; William Caudill and Harry Scarr, "Japanese Value Orientations and Culture Change," Ethnology, 1961, 1:53–91; Matsumoto, op. cit.; Takeshi Ishida, Gendai Soshiki Ron (A Theory of Modern Organization), Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1960.
Loyalty
Despite changes in the nature and direction of expression, loyalty of the individual to his group remains the most important attribute of the respected person. In its extreme form, loyalty means that the individual can be counted on to place group interests above his own. Group loyalty means not only identification with group goals but a willingness to co-operate with the other members and to respond to group consensus enthusiastically. If given an assignment by his group he must accept the responsibility. He should avoid any situation that might be embarrassing to a member of his group and always maintain an interest in the welfare, comfort, and sense of honor of the others. A daughter is respected if she considers her parents' wishes in thinking of marriage, and an employee is respected if he does not leave a job to accept more money elsewhere. Even if differences of opinion are expressed within the group, members are expected to stick together vis-à-vis the outside. It is no longer required that the individual express loyalty in formal ways through ceremonies and gift-giving. Today a person is judged loyal when his total attitude shows that he whole-heartedly supports the interests of his group.
There is considerable discussion about Western concepts of individualism (kojin-shugi ) but, in the dominant Mamachi view, individualism is opposed to loyalty. If one accepts the Kantian view that morality implies duty, Mamachi residents do not consider individualism as a kind of morality—they do not conceive of individualism as the responsibility of a person to be true to his own ideals. Individualism does not imply a sense of oughtness or responsibility, but rather it is seen as the right and privilege of an individual to look out for his own interests even against the interests of the group. To the extent that individualism brings with it any duty at all, it is simply the obligation of the person in power to permit a measure of freedom to the person lower in the hierarchy. In the common view, traditional Japanese morality meant only responsibilities and duties, no rights. One was supposed to be loyal to his master even if it meant getting little in return. What democracy and individualism mean to the Mamachi resident is that subordinates now have the right to expect something from their
superiors, and some people in Mamachi now use this as grounds for insisting on their rights. Although it is now felt that a superior should grant some such privileges, it is still considered crude and selfish for a person to stand up for his rights. Few people in Mamachi consider it a higher morality to be concerned more with one's own benefit than with the welfare of one's group.
One of the characteristics of loyalty as a basic value is that no principle is more important than regard for the other members of one's own intimate group. Hence, there is no fully legitimate basis for standing against the group. Once group consensus is reached, one should abide by the decisions. Although some deviants attempt to justify their failure to follow group consensus in terms of democracy or freedom, these values have not been internalized sufficiently to justify the deviant's behavior to himself, let alone to other members of the group. It is true that there is now sufficient acceptance to cause some hesitation and tinges of ambivalence before an overly frank or pretentious deviant is put down, but not enough to counter effectively the eventual pressures toward group consensus, nor enough to turn an occasional deviant into a hero for courageously defying his group for other principles.
The lack of absolutes also facilitates the adjustment to new ideas very rapidly once the group arrives at a consensus. This has created a realism and pragmatism which makes it possible to absorb new patterns of behavior as long as they are mediated by the group. Although many Japanese decry the abandonment of principle in their easy accommodation to new power situations,[4] there is no doubt that this ability has made it easier to absorb new ideas in a period of rapid social change. This requires, however, considerable discussion, and there are continual informal get-togethers and discussions among Mamachi residents trying to achieve a consensus. This same process is used at the most general level to determine group values
[4] See, for example, Tadashi Fukutake, Man and Society in Japan, Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press, 1962. Western observers noting the existence of non-Western patterns in Japan are prone to regard them as traditional. In fact, many are not traditional but the results of considerable change, and Mamachi residents place little value on the preservation of tradition. They express a willingness, even eagerness, to sacrifice traditional practices if they seem not to fit with a realistic adjustment to the world today. This also accords with the Caudill and Scarr findings of an overwhelming preference for the "present time" value orientations as opposed to "past" and "future." Cf. Caudill and Scarr, op. cit .
and at the most concrete level to determine group attitudes toward specific subjects within the family or within some group in the community. In the bureaucracy, the ringi seido (system of joint consultation by people on the same level)[5] reflects the same pattern. In the ringi seido a person does not have specific responsibilities assigned to him but rather continually checks back with the group for final approval. Although one may question the efficiency of such a procedure, it does maintain close group co-operation. If a group achieves consensus, this makes it possible to absorb changes relatively easily because no old rules or principles interfere with consensus.[6]
The lack of absolute standards taking precedence over consensus also makes it difficult to decide by what rules the group should arrive at a consensus. The general consideration in reaching a consensus is the good of the group as seen by various people, but the problem of various strengths of feelings, relative status within the group, and objective considerations about group benefit can make the process of reaching a consensus extremely complex. Because people's feelings are carefully considered in reaching the consensus, there is no simple way for members to resolve disputes without considering all the subtleties of their relationship to each other and to the group.
The lack of absolute standards taking precedence over consensus creates problems for a person moving from one group to another. It takes time to be accepted in a tight-knit group. Furthermore, the newcomer cannot be sure of group standards, and he has no standards of his own which he knows he can apply to the new group. Even if the practices and standards of judgment in his new group are similar to those of his old group, in a dispute or in case he incurs the displeasure of the group, he has no way to justify his behavior. Unfamiliar with the norms of the group, he tries to be par-
[5] From Kazuo Noda, unpublished manuscript.
[6] Group consensus is perhaps the most widespread model for decision-making. For example, more than 90 percent of divorces are by collusion. Cf. Takeyoshi Kawashima and Kurt Steiner, "Modernization and Divorce Rate Trends in Japan," Economic Development and Culture Change, 1960. This model of conciliation and group decision is also a general model in Japanese law. Cf. Takeyoshi Kawashima in Arthur Taylor von Mehren, ed., op. cit.
ticularly careful until he understands the nature of the group consensus.
Although loyalty has been a basic Japanese value for centuries, there have been several modifications of patterns of loyalty within the last few decades. One of these is the increasing importance of the ties with equals as opposed to the tie between superiors and inferiors.[7] Traditionally, the hierarchical positions were more inclined to be ascribed in terms of age[8] or in terms of status in the community. Increasingly, hierarchical positions are subject to patterns of achievement, and if a superior is unable or unwilling to go along with group consensus he may be politely moved to a position of honor without power and, in effect, be replaced by someone who is more responsive to group consensus. Even in present-day Mamachi, however, it is often difficult for others to dislodge a person of authority without causing embarrassment and schisms in the organization. But even if he remains in his position officially, informal consensus can be used effectively to slow down his programs if he is not willing to follow the group consensus. "Feudalistic" has been an effective rallying cry in limiting the power of the superior.
There is also another sense in which the collateral dimension has replaced the hierarchical. In the traditional pattern, it was common for a boy to enter a shop at a fairly early age and for a girl to marry at a fairly early age; once in the small shop or the family, the young person was subject to the wishes of his superior. Now, with the prolongation of schooling and the postponement of the age at which work and marriage begin, the peer group takes on an importance at this stage which it previously lacked. Furthermore, in the large firm the salary man has many peers. When he joins the firm, he is inducted in a large class and receives training in the class. This peer group of newly inducted members becomes an important
[7] However, even in traditional times, there were variations which stressed collateral as opposed to lineal ties. Cf. John Pelzel and Florence Kluckhohn, "A Theory of Variation in Values Applied to Aspects of Japanese Social Structure," Bulletin of the Research Institute of Comparative Education and Culture, Kyushu University, 1957.
[8] Cf. Edward Norbeck, "Age Grading in Japan," American Anthropologist, 1953, 55:373–384.
source of solidarity which tends to place limitations on the extent to which they are subject to the authority of the superiors.
A second change in the pattern of loyalty is in the narrowing of the range of loyalty. The most popular epithet for criticizing traditional patterns is "feudalistic." In Mamachi, many traditional bonds have loosened or evaporated. For example, elders in the community who arbitrarily impose their will on community organizations would be considered feudalistic. Main family members in the country who make demands on the branch family in Mamachi are considered feudalistic. High status people who try to control some activities of low status people in the community are considered feudalistic. Too much interference by a work superior in the personal life of an employee would be considered feudalistic. All this means that group loyalties in contemporary Mamachi are focused on the nuclear family and the immediate work group.[9] The link between the work group and the company means on certain occasions that one is loyal to his own company vis-à-vis other companies and to his nation vis-à-vis other nations, but this wider loyalty never takes precedence over the loyalty to one's immediate group.
The narrower range of primary loyalties has minimized potential conflicts between loyalties. In comparison, for example, in the traditional Chinese or southern Italian family, which lacked a sharp limit to the loyalty required on both sides of the family, continual conflicts existed between loyalties to various relatives. In those societies, gifts or favors to certain relatives were taken as an insult to others, and lineage fission was often accompanied by family quarrels or feuds. Even in traditional Japan loyalties and obligations sometimes conflicted, and a hierarchy of primacy evolved by which conflicts were resolved. For example, in conflicting loyalties, a samurai was to neglect his family in favor of his lord. In some cases, however, as in the loyalty conflicts of friends versus relatives, it was not clear how these were to be resolved.
In contemporary Mamachi, however, because the basic loyalty is to one's immediate group, the conflicts of loyalty generally do not
[9] Caudill and Scarr found that responses to questions dealing with community relations and relations with relatives were very individualistic. Caudill and Scarr, op. cit .
create serious problems. The greatest problems today appear to be resulting from the not-yet-completed process of narrowing the range of loyalties. Although most families now consider that loyalty is limited primarily to the nuclear family and the immediate work group, a few try to take advantage of the rather weak expectation that it should extend to a wider circle. Aside from such problems, the conflict of genuine loyalties is rare. The most common conflict of loyalty between family and work group occurs when a husband is transferred from the Tokyo area to another city. Although moves to new communities are less common than in the United States, sometimes a man will be sent to another Japanese or overseas branch of his company for a year or two. The man nearly always accepts the move without protest, but often, because of the problems of setting up a temporary home and disrupting the children's education, the wife and children remain in Mamachi. This need not lead to a serious conflict of loyalties because even at a distance, the husband continues to meet the basic needs of his family. He supports the household and looks out for his children's future. To the extent that a conflict does exist between family and place of work, it is not usually the conflict between the family and the firm but between the family and the company gang, since it is the gang rather than the firm which places the heaviest demands on the husband's time and money.
For the wife, loyalty to her husband and children takes clear precedence over loyalty to other relatives or friends. The one unavoidable conflict is in the switch of allegiance from the family into which she was born to the family into which she marries. This conflict is generally resolved in favor of the family into which she marries, but in the first few years of marriage this may not accord with her feelings. The narrowness of the range of loyalty, however, has meant that the conflict at most affects her, her parents, her husband, and his parents. In personal relations, the husband's loyalty to wife and children now even takes precedence to his loyalty to his parents, but he generally tries to remain loyal to both.
The narrow range of present-day loyalties sets limits to the amount of loyalty conflict, but the increase of mobility outside these narrow groups makes it necessary to find some substitute for loyalty as a basis of trust. Although in most cases the value of honesty is
thoroughly accepted, in some cases it is considered moral to deceive outsiders. Most people feel no responsibility for helping or being kind to strangers because there is no universal ethic which says that all men should be treated equally, that outsiders should be trusted and treated with kindness. This ethic poses serious problems with the increase of contacts between strangers as is evidenced by the widespread use of private detective agencies. The practice of making contacts with outsiders through mutual friends is thus very crucial in providing a basis of trust between strangers which is not provided by a more fully developed universal ethic.
A related problem is a person's difficulty in maintaining identity and focusing his sense of loyalty when he is not a member of a close-knit group. For example, there is often a gap in late adolescence when a youth has weakened his ties to his family but has not yet replaced them with loyalty to a new family or place of work. In this transition, the ties between classmates may temporarily fill the gap, but ronin who are studying for examinations and even college students often have no friendships strong enough to provide a stable basis of loyalty. School and university provide little dormitory life, and few fraternities or clubs exist to provide a feeling of belonging. It is at this age that some larger ideology seems especially attractive. Once a young man becomes a salary man and enters a firm, however, he has a feeling of belonging and becomes progressively less interested in an over-all ideology.[10]
A final change in the pattern of loyalty is the easing of the rigidity with which loyalty is demanded. For example, New Year visits of paying respect to one's superior are slowly losing their compelling quality among salary men. Bringing periodic presents to one's superior no longer seems so essential, and some capable young men do not bother with this custom any more. The relaxation of formalities is not, however, a dilution of regard for the essence of loyalty. Mamachi residents still are primarily oriented to the old values rather than the new. Even if critical of the old values they continue to think in terms of the traditional. Most of the attack on old values
[10] The fundamentalist "new sects" have a wide following among people who would otherwise lack close-knit groups: migrants to the city, women with marital difficulties, and men who lack secure employment. Mamachi salary men have little interest in these "new sects."
is not on the basis of the new values of individualism but on the basis of antifeudalism. Among groups of close friends, for example, there may be complaints about superiors, but the content of the complaint is not likely to be that the superior did not provide enough freedom but that he did not adequately look out for his followers. To the extent that democratic values have an influence it is to soften the harshness of the demands of loyalty and permit more tolerance for the group members who do not always follow automatically the dictates of the group consensus.
Although the underlying value of loyalty has remained, the patterns of loyalty have undergone sufficient change to polarize responses to these changes. If the modern values of loyalty which stress collaterality rather than hierarchy and allow a narrower range of loyalty and increased tolerance of deviation are placed at one end of the continuum, and the traditional views at the opposite end, it is possible to distinguish four general kinds of reaction: those who conform to the new pattern, those who conform to the new but do so defensively, those who defensively support the traditional, and those who conform to the traditional.[11]
The first, and perhaps the most common of the four types, consists of those who fit easily into the new patterns. These are the people who are loyal to their own group, faithful to group members, follow group consensus, do not want to take things literally, and are not interested in ritual displays of loyalty. They believe in frankness. They have ideas of their own, but are willing to permit other members freedom and variation, and they are deeply devoted to their group. They try to avoid situations where they might be called on for help by distant relatives and if called will offer a minimum of help in as kindly a manner as possible.
The second type, those who defensively conform to the new standards, hate tradition and any contemporary vestige of feudalism they can uncover. They resent any insinuation by foreigners that they accept tradition or that the Japanese in general are traditional-minded. Within their own family or immediate work group they
[11] These correspond essentially to Talcott Parson's deviance paradigm which includes conformity, compulsive conformity, compulsive alienation, and alienation. See his Social System, Glencoe, Ill.: The Free Press, 1951, chapter 7.
remain loyal and follow the group, but many project their feelings of annoyance at conformity on the ideological plane, complaining, for example, about the power of tradition, conformity, and the older generation. Many young girls who are able to contain whatever negative feelings they have toward their own mother, project onto mothers-in-law in general the negative feelings they suppress at home. Within the tight-knit group, often one must control one's negative feelings, and any alienation which one feels is projected outside the group toward any kind of traditional pressure for conformity.[12]
Some members of this category are not accepted either by groups upholding modern or those upholding traditional patterns, but their annoyance is more likely to be directed toward the traditional than the modern. Some of these people are envious of not being in the in-groups and would possibly be more moderate if included. At times these are the people who are concerned about what they consider the tyranny of the majority. They so resent the arbitrariness of the majority, that they do not fully accept the principle that the minority should abide by the decisions of the majority.
The third group, those compulsively alienated from the new values, are upset when others do not show proper respect for tradition and the traditional values of hierarchy and authority, self-discipline, and absolute obedience. Though considerably smaller in number and less vocal than those opposed to tradition, they may be just as adamant. This is the group who often promote the reintroduction of moral training in school and encourage teaching children more respect and conformity.
Finally, there are those who are completely alienated from the new values but who feel almost no conflict in their opinion. They are fully integrated in their own groups and, although unhappy with the newer values, do not necessarily express their opposition in terms of ideology. For example, when others argue that traditions must be changed, they may not offer any counterargument, but by their behavior and attitudes they continue to show high regard for
[12] As Dr. Takeo Doi has suggested, it is in part the psychological strain in adjusting to the consensus in their own group that makes it so difficult to accept a consensus arrived at in another group.
tradition. Often because of their age or high status in the community, they retain the admiration of other people in the community and are somewhat insulated from the pressures to change.
Competence
To be fully respected a person must not only be loyal but competent (yoku dekiru or sainoo ga aru hito ). Competence is defined partly as talent or genius (tensai ) but partly as the capacity for hard work (kinben ) and perseverance (gamanzuyoi ). Although Mamachi residents no longer take seriously the view that a talented person is being rewarded by inga (the Buddhist doctrine of cause and effect) for virtue in a previous life, there is an overtone to the word tensai which implies that a person is blessed by heaven. Although it can be misleading to rely too much on linguistic usage because the origin of the word does not necessarily coincide with its present meaning, it is not irrelevant to note that the ten of the word tensai is written with the character for heaven. But even if having talent does not denote a moral quality, hard work certainly does, and it is thought that competence is in large part the result of years of practice and hard work. Although competence is less crucial than loyalty, a person who has an important position and is not competent is regarded as undeserving, and, if it can be done gracefully, he may be replaced by one who is competent as well as loyal.
Performance (or in Florence Kluckhohn's value-orientation theory, "doing") is not valued for its own sake, but for the sake of the group. Competence is likewise considered important in the context of its meaning for the group, because a person's performance not only affects himself but his co-workers. Because groups are tight-knit, a member's success and satisfaction depend on the success of the entire group, and one slacker can undermine the position of all the others. In performing a task, one is not rewarded simply for giving his best efforts, but must produce the results for the group or suffer the consequences. If a school child misbehaves or is caught by the law, the teacher is held as partly responsible, regardless of what efforts he might have made to redirect the errant child. If a child is injured on a school trip, the mother who accompanied the class is considered partly responsible regardless of how the injury actually occurred. Because a person's responsibility is so total, most
activities are not decided and carried out by a single individual but by the group.
Because most groups are relatively stable, a person usually is not judged on the basis of a single performance. The intimate association of group members over years makes it possible for them to know each other's abilities and weak points intimately. A person's general competence becomes, in effect, an ascriptive point of reference for respect accorded him by other group members. Even if he is not officially accorded a high position within the group, the fact that in forming group consensus other co-workers respond readily to his advice means that he is constantly receiving recognition for his general competence. For a person to be really competent, however, he must not only have technical skill but skill in human relations. Since groups operate by consensus, a person who antagonizes others is not given a chance to realize his potential competence regardless of technical competence.
Group members cannot all have an equal amount of loyalty and competence, and if one member is loyal but not competent or competent but not loyal, this poses a problem which might be called "incongruency of respect," and requires that the group develop some way of reconciling this incongruency. Usually, except for the time of movement between groups as in examinations, the value of competence is subordinated to the value of group loyalty. For example, within a business firm, a man is generally rewarded for his competence only after there is complete consensus that he deserves to be. A man's advancement is in part based on seniority, and at the lower level of the business hierarchy formal differentiation of men on the basis of competence is minimal. When, after several years, differentiation in status is finally made on the basis of competence, there is a feeling that the person who is promoted completely deserves the promotion, and, if anything, should have received it earlier.[13] Therefore, ordinarily, ability is rewarded but in such a way that group consensus is not disrupted.
However, the individual with ability who does not respond to group consensus is difficult for the group to deal with. If a person
[13] For this information I am indebted to Professor Kazuo Noda of Rikkyo University.
is incompetent as well as unresponsive, the group can effectively isolate him. Even the talented man whose services are needed may find himself in a less important position than he deserves if he is unco-operative, and if permitted to occupy a position of prominence, informal sanctions may be directed against him to limit his autonomy and power. Similarly, a mother whose children are successful in school but who does not subscribe to the attitudes of the community may not be given a position of prominence. Such cases are not always settled easily and gracefully, but once an effective group consensus is achieved, effective informal techniques can be used to isolate, degrade, and embarrass the deviant.
The common solution to the converse problem, the incompetent person who is loyal to the group, is to give him a position of honor and prestige which carries little responsibility and power. Since there is no clearly defined table of organization or rules of office, bureaucratic and private voluntary associations are flexible. This flexibility makes it possible on the basis of group consensus, to create special positions for such people where they will be accorded respect and yet where their lack of ability will not hinder group effectiveness. Of course, the person may be aware that he is not regarded as competent but often he appears grateful just to be treated with honor.
In women's community groups, where group productivity is less critical, competence is less important and social status more weighty. Yet the resolution of the conflict between loyalty and competence follows the same lines. A woman loyal to her group will be included in group activities and given a position of honor even if she is not particularly competent. But greater responsibility and prominence go to those who are loyal, responsive to group opinions, and able in carrying out the group activities.
A Major Variation:
Aesthetic Values
Many Mamachi residents consider themselves closer spiritually to the French than to any other nation, explaining that they share the interest of the French in artistic values. Mamachi residents have a particular sensitivity to beauty, especially in spatial arrangements. Their interest in size, shape, and color pervades their entire life and finds an outlet in room arrangement, flower arrangement, decora-
tion, and gardening. Even the preparation of food becomes an art form with the careful cutting and arranging in interesting designs and color combinations. They enjoy seeing the food arranged in such a way that it preserves the original nature of the food. Complementing their keen awareness of beauty in man-made products is their love of nature. This love enters the home and takes them outdoors; they enjoy traveling to places famous for their natural scenic beauty.
Many of their skills are designed to gain a mastery and self-control which they see as providing a kind of harmony with the spirit of nature. Such activities as tea ceremony, flower arrangement, calligraphy, gardening, or quiet meditation, practiced by men as well as women, are in part cultivated as status symbols for a higher style of life but they are respected because they provide this kind of self-control and harmony.
Many events are invested with a ceremonial elegance that is part of the Japanese love of grace and control. Though some regard certain features of these ceremonies, like low bowing and expensive weddings, as despicable remnants of feudalism, most derive enjoyment from the style of many formalities: the exchange of greetings, the giving and receiving of presents, the entertainment of guests, the sending-off and welcoming-home parties, the celebration of holidays and special events. Such acts are conducted with a style and elegance rising above the mundane routine of daily tasks.
Although such aesthetic pleasures have an important place in the lives of many Mamachi residents, generally aesthetic values are given a secondary role, and the opportunity to cultivate these arts is confined to segregated times and places. People are admired for their aesthetic qualities and criticized for slovenliness (darashi ga nai ), but these qualities are not as essential to group life and activities as loyalty and competence. A few professions, such as entertainment, the arts, teaching, or the priesthood, specialize in aesthetic values. Aesthetic values may also assume a primacy for women of leisure or for elderly people after retirement. But for most people, the significance of aesthetic pleasures is found in the attempt to achieve peace of mind away from the routine tasks of housework and the heavy demands of loyalty placed upon them in their groups. Yet these pleasures are not simply a release from other problems, but
represent a positive striving for beauty and a feeling of being at one with the universe. Unlike certain Western values that would actually be counter to group loyalty, the acceptance of aesthetic values provides individual gratification without threatening to interfere with group demands. If anything, by helping the individual to resolve his own ambivalences and achieve personal integrity, it makes it easier for him to follow the demands of his group.
The Moral Basis of the Salary Man
With the heavy valuation on loyalty, concern with individual profit from economic activities has never been considered entirely legitimate. People like Goto who amassed the Toyoko fortunes or Matsushita who amassed the National Electric fortunes are considered overly selfish by many Mamachi residents, and they do not command the respect that Ford or Carnegie enjoyed in America. In the early period of Japanese modernization, the large businessmen had to justify themselves, not in terms of their own entrepreneurial skill and the preservation of free enterprise but in terms of their contribution to the nation. Present-day Mamachi residents likewise have little regard for those engaged directly in the pursuit of their own profit. The small shopkeeper may escape criticism if he keeps a stable particularistic relationship with his customers, but he is suspect if he appears to be concerned primarily with his own profit. Of course, entrepreneurs in larger concerns have a much higher status, but they have little leeway in the manner in which they pursue profit if they are to retain people's respect on moral grounds. Even many community leaders and politicians who are permitted to occupy important positions because of their power and ability, are not admired for their moral qualities if they are seen to be looking out primarily for their own interests.
The salary man, however, does not see himself as looking out primarily for his own interests. When he enters the company, he receives a low salary, much less than he deserves by straight economic calculations. Since his salary is regular and determined more by seniority than his good work, he feels he is doing good work not out of his own interest, but out of his devotion to the firm. He receives a bonus not on the basis of his individual contribution to the firm, but on the basis of the success of the firm. By being com-
mitted to the firm for life and receiving many benefits for his long-term service, he, in fact, ordinarily feels loyal and genuinely interested in the firm's welfare. Thus the salary man has solid grounds for self-respect in his basic value system. He sees his own long-term interests as fully identified with the company's interests but because of his devoted service to the firm, he cannot be accused of putting his own interests first.[14]
The firm not only gives him a chance to feel loyal; it provides a basis for a feeling of competence. In some groups like his family, he may feel loyal, but he knows he is accepted even if he lacks ability. But in the large bureaucratic organization, a man must prove himself before he is admitted. Everyone in the organization is considered to have at least a minimum of ability so that he is not threatened with the possibility of discharge. The further training within the company and the continual rise in status on the basis of loyal service enhances the feeling that all men have a necessary minimum of competence.
The independent businessman may have plenty of ability but he may have difficulty in convincing himself and others that he is properly loyal to anyone but himself. In certain traditional inherited occupations, the son may be loyal to the family, but he often has a weak basis for the claim of competence. The practices of the large firm make it possible for the salary man to feel that he is legitimized both on the basis of loyalty and competence.
At the same time, the salary man is able to feel that his organization has made great progress toward getting rid of arbitrary feudalistic practices. In the small shops or in many of the smaller enterprises, the intense relationship between master and apprentice is such that the apprentice feels completely bound by the relationship with a single person. In a large organization, however, the loyalty is primarily to the firm and there is leeway given to the individual. He does not remain completely under any single person's authority.
[14] Japanese do not express surprise at the existence of a corporate ethic, nor is there a competing value system which can be used to criticize the corporate ethic as expressed, for example, by William H. Whyte, The Organization Man , New York: Simon and Schuster, 1957.
To my knowledge, none of these firms reward employees for individual services in the forms of commissions or sales, piecework, or special contributions to the company.
There is usually opportunity for contact with other people in the firm, and one's future does not depend entirely on some superior who may exercise his authority arbitrarily. The large organization fits well with the newer modern conception of loyalty.
The position of the salary man offers a unique opportunity to live according to the values which Mamachi residents consider most important. Not only does it provide an opportunity for legitimation on the basis of loyalty and competence, but it permits free time for aesthetic pursuits. In short, the Mamachi salary man is proud to be a salary man not only because he feels that he can acquire security and meet the practical problem of earning a living, but because he can have self-respect in terms of his most basic values.