Read Japan's New Middle Class: The Salary Man and His Family in a Tokyo Suburb Online
Authors: Ezra F. Vogel
Tags: #General, #Social Science, #Sociology, #History, #Asia, #Social History, #Japan, #Social conditions, #Social Classes, #Middle class
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.
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.
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