Japan: The Facts of Modern Business and Social Life

By James Rebischung

James Rebischung's intention is to report as objectively as possible on the current Japanese scene and to provide a more balanced view of Japan that is usually given in travel folders, official publications, magazine reports, and art books. To believe, as many people do, that Japan is either a tourist wonderland or a country where businessmen plot unfair competitive practices while bathing with geisha on company expense accounts, or that it is a rich land leaping forward to an economic paradise is to be both foolish and wrong. The Japanese people have a stirring history full of the richness of human life, and they have an interesting and exciting future. But they are in the transitional present as it is lived now, and that is what this book is all about.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tuttle Publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781462914043

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

I decided to put this book together after visiting Japan during the summer of 1970. After an absence of twenty years during which I had given little thought to the country and to my experiences there as a member of the United States Army of Occupation, I returned as a tourist and was shocked and dismayed by what had happened to the country during that long interval. My disappointment, of course, was a personal one. Others would not, perhaps, have reacted in the same way. But it was more than some memory shattered or a dream destroyed. It was as if the past had disappeared, had in fact never existed. What I had known as a green, tranquil land full of smiling children and frugal adults, an exotic land full of interesting differences, had almost completely changed. Then, in the aftermath of war’s destruction, facilities were limited and everything was in short supply. The roads were bad and poorly marked. The quaint looking trains were worn and falling apart. The bombings had destroyed almost two and one half million buildings, and the cities were jerry-built and seemed stagnant. Everything was patched together with patience and hope. Everyone seemed malnourished, even sickly. All were poorly dressed and it seemed that everyone wore glasses and had stainless steel teeth. Nowhere was it crowded and it was possible then to walk for a quarter of a mile down a country lane on the outskirts of Yokohama without seeing anyone.

Now, all those smiling children, and more, have grown to adulthood and have moved to the cities to work in shops, offices, and factories, crowding together in cities which can hardly contain them, cities which for the most part still look jerry-built, but now sprawl far out into the once quiet greenery of the farm lands. Stores bulge with goods and nothing is in short supply. Trains are new, fast, and comfortable. There are new freeways, theaters, hotels, restaurants, and signs in English everywhere. Happily, the Japanese people appear remarkably healthy and are exceedingly well-dressed. There is energy and activity throughout the land, and everyone seems confident and assured.

However, much of Japan is now an industrial hell. The land is filled with factories and pollution. There are cars, trucks, buses, machinery and noise everywhere. The once clean air of the countryside is gone with the winds of industrialization, and air pollution rules the Japanese skies. The din, the crowds, and the bad air are almost overwhelming.

Of course, I knew that changes had been going on in the country, for in recent years, there has been much publicity concerning the economic growth and success of Japanese industry. The few books I had read about Japan before my visit placed emphasis on the economic growth of the country and spoke in glowing terms about its industrial transformation. The efforts of the Japanese people during the past twenty years were described as a miracle, and the nation was felt to have reached the near-level of a super-power. There was some mention of the deteriorating quality of the environment and the discontent of some segments of the population, notably students, but these problems were passed over in favor of the positive gains. Hence, without any recent experience of Japan or a real knowledge of the country, I was not prepared for what met my eyes, ears, and nose during that summer of 1970. I had imagined I would see a country similar to the United States or Europe and was staggered to see that the cities were jumbled masses of decrepit housing, incessant crowds, noise, dirt, and traffic — all mixed together in the worst air I ever had to breathe. Perplexed, I looked in vain for the simple beauty I had once known, for the quietude, for the sound of temple bells, for the smell of wood smoke. But it was all obscured by smog, by plastered buildings, wall-to-wall housing, too many people, and too much machinery.

The tourist brochures that I had examined before my visit showed Japan as an uncrowded wonderland of quaintness and charm, full of kimono-clad beauties and colorful festivals. The expertly produced government magazines showed pictures of impressive, new atomic plants, bridges, dams, super-highways, ultra-modern express trains, and immense oil tankers being built in highly efficient shipyards. Other scenes depicted Japan as an uncrowded land full of serene people quietly having tea in splendid gardens. Still others showed happy vacationers bicycling down picturesque country lanes resplendent with cherry blossoms. The views of the cities showed modern skyscrapers, new schools, happy students, and spacious homes. Wide-aisled department stores were shown with few shoppers in them leisurely browsing among the wonderful merchandise. In addition, the many fine books of Japanese art which I had examined left me with the impression that Japan would be a land full of artistic touches and perhaps a ubiquitous sense of form. Everything about Japan appeared exciting, new, beautiful, cultivated, and rich. In short, I was unprepared for the reality I was to experience.

Because I was so shocked by my encounter with Japan, I determined to find out what had happened. Accordingly, I did much reading and returned again to Japan during the summers of 1971 and 1972 armed with a camera so that I might photograph the country as it really was. This book is the result of my studies and those trips. My intention is to report as objectively as possible on the current Japanese scene and to provide a more balanced view of Japan than is usually given in travel folders, official publications, magazine reports, and art books.

By all this I do not wish to imply that I am an expert in things Japanese. I am far from such knowledge and do not hold to that ambition. I am interested in Japan and hope that my book will help others to know and understand the Japanese people as much as its preparation has helped my knowledge and understanding. Neither by my text nor pictures do I imply any denigration of the Japanese people and their work of the past twenty years. What they have achieved is truly remarkable. That life in Japan is not perfect is hardly a secret to anyone living there. If I mention any shortcomings, it is merely to point out the real, which too often, everywhere, is obfuscated by fantasies. Ignorance is never a virtue, and in the years to come Japan will be increasingly in the economic and political news of the world as it seeks to expand its sources of raw materials, and its markets. Real information will be more necessary than ever. Because of its economic success, Japan is being accused by its critics of trodding on the toes of established trading countries and unfairly taking away business. Critics of Japan range from disgruntled businessmen who are only happy, it seems, when they have no competition, to unemployed workers whose jobs have been exported to Japan. And such criticism is growing, especially in the United States. Thus, economic and political matters have become more complicated and more people throughout the world are being affected by what Japan is and does. As always, intelligent, informed opinions will be needed. To believe, as many people do, that Japan is either a tourist wonderland or a country where businessmen plot unfair competitive practices while bathing with geisha on company expense accounts, or that it is a rich land leaping forward to an economic paradise is to be both foolish and wrong.

Japan is now an ugly country filled with industrial pollution and its beauty is fast disappearing. Indeed, overseas Japanese are reluctant to return to Japan even for a visit. Many of them find the noise, the crowds, and the pollution unbearable after having lived elsewhere for a time. Moreover, everyone in Japan works quite hard and long for pay that people in other industrialized countries would find dismally minimal. Although many of its large corporations are wealthy, Japan as a whole is not a rich country, and it will take generations before its level of living will match the Western nations. Many Japanese live in what could easily be termed poverty conditions. And most Japanese housing is deplorable and social services only rudimentary. Although Japan does have the third largest Gross National Product in the world, it does not have a corresponding investment in social capital and lags far behind other nations in this respect. Furthermore, the fruits of Japan’s GNP are spread thinly and disproportionately among the country’s large population. In reality, Japan too often gives the appearance of a vast slum inhabited by incongruously well-dressed and well-behaved people.

As respects the photographs in this book, while formal Japanese gardens are truly wonderful and Japanese temples monuments worthy of the gods, they are no more Japan, now, than the Sistine Chapel is Italy or Valley Forge is America. Japanese culture, an artistic and highly civilized product of centuries of thought and effort, is being changed within the space of a few generations. Although it is an old thought, it is nevertheless true that Japan is still a nation in transition, an accelerating transition toward industrialization and Westernization which will eventually change it completely. Accordingly, I have avoided the usual type of photographs seen in most books about the country. I am more interested in showing the ordinary, quotidian life of the Japanese people as they are experiencing it. Some of these people are rich, but many of them are poor. Sometimes they are surrounded by beauty, but often there is squalor. There is still a unique art, but there is also a raucous commercialism. The Japanese people have a stirring history full of the richness of human life, and they have an interesting and exciting future. But they are in the transitional present as it is lived now, and that is what this book is all about.

SAN FRANCISCO, 1972   

Tokyo pedestrians are so adept at living in crowded conditions that they move easily and freely despite their numbers.

A typically stocky Japanese matron out shopping in the town of Tsuruma. Japanese roads and streets are not built for pedestrian traffic. Space is so critical that houses are built right up to the line of power poles, as shown here.

POPULATION DENSITY

For generations, Japan has been faced with the pressure of its population on the country’s limited land and resources. A hundred years ago japan had about 30 million people. By the turn of the century the figure passed the 40 million mark. By 1926 there were 60 million Japanese. Ten years later there were 70 million. At the end of the Pacific War there were nearly 80 million people. By 1960 there were 90 million. In 1967 the population reached 100 million and now stands at 105 million. However, because Japan is a literate nation, information about the dangers of over-population is widespread and the Japanese people have been able to control their rate of population increase. It is expected that the population will stabilize at approximately 123 million by 1985. Though birth control pills are not widely used in Japan, late marriages, other contraceptive methods, and legal abortions are the means by which families are limiting their off-spring. In 1971 over one million couples got married, about two million babies were born, and 700,000 abortions were performed.

The 105 million Japanese people live in a country which contains only 147,000 square miles, an area somewhat less than that of the state of California. But since much of the land is steep hills and rugged mountain terrain, only 20 percent of it is habitable. Thus, the Japanese have only about 29,000 square miles on which to live, a density of almost 3,600 persons per square mile. In contrast, China, which is usually thought of as teeming with people and heavily populated, has a density in its cultivated areas of only 1,650 persons per square mile. The United States figure is 276 persons per square mile, and the U.S.S.R. figure is 263.

The Japanese land situation is further intensified by the fact that better economic opportunities in the cities have caused a mass exodus from the rural areas. More than 300,000 people, for example, move to Tokyo each year. With a population of over 11 million, Tokyo is the largest city in the world. Moreover, in excess of 60 million people live in the Tokaido Megalopolis, the narrow belt of land extending along the east coast of Japan from Tokyo through Nagoya and Kyoto to Osaka and Kobe. The Japanese government estimates that half the Japanese people live on only 1.25 percent of the land, over 28,000 people per square mile. This is probably the highest population density statistic in the world.

Indeed, the second thing that a visitor to Japan notices — after the polluted air — are the crowds and crowded conditions. He feels at first that he has arrived in the country during the rush hour, and that presently the crowds will thin and he will be able to walk about more freely. But the crowds do not disperse and he remains puzzled. The visitor then finds that the urban areas of Japan are truly fantastic situations: wall-to-wall people, wall-to-wall houses, wall-to-wall houses, wall-to-wall traffic and wall-to-wall noise. Life in the cities seems so thick as to be oppressive. The visitor is bewildered, discomforted, and even depressed. Nowhere has he ever seen anything like a Japanese city. He realizes that he never really knew the meaning of words like over-population and crowds.

To visit a city such as Tokyo is to have the feeling of being assaulted. Its reality is almost overwhelming. Everywhere there are people: on the streets, in the trains and stations, in the restaurants, in the department stores. People, people, and more people. There seems no place to stand or to hide. Every square foot of space seems occupied by someone. The restaurants are full, and there seem to be four or five clerks behind every department store counter. The stores are jammed, and one must get in line for everything, even to buy a soft drink at a vending machine. Everywhere one goes he is in a crowd. For most of the day Tokyo is in a continual rush hour, and in the Ginza area swarms of people stream by in never ending masses. One cannot help wondering how the Japanese people in the urban areas manage to survive the continual assault of such stimuli on their nerves, how they retain their equilibrium, even their mental health, in the face of such vitality, such pressures, such proximity, and such air pollution.

But surprisingly, in these silent urban crowds no one touches anyone else, and there is no jostling. Each person has an invisible, two-inch space around him which no one violates. No matter how dense the crowds, at the arrestation of pedestrian traffic by stop lights, everyone seems to halt instinctively before bumping into another. This is even more uncanny because no one in these crowds seems to be paying attention to the traffic. Everyone seems to be turned inward, going about his business as if no else existed. It would appear that living in such crowded conditions has forced the Japanese city-dweller to isolate himself psychologically from the myriads which surround him, In the streets, the foreign visitor finds himself totally ignored where ever he wanders; it is just like being in any