J a p a n e s e    C u l t u r e

If there is any truth in the assertion that there is something visual rather than verbal, about the way that the Japanese sign, i.e. that Japanese culture leans toward the right hand side of the diagram of Dual Coding Theory, then one might expect them to share some similarities with those deaf that use visual sign systems (ASL and JSL). To investigate this hypothesis I read Oliver Sacks’ “Seeing Voices” an excellent, and even moving, introduction to the world of the deaf, and particularly their ability to communicate using sign language, from the perspective of a neurologist.

First of all, Sacks points out that deaf signers are better at interpreting Chinese characters signed in the air, and it is clear that Japanese people are far better at signing and reading characters in the air (p78) but that maybe the single case in point. Deaf people use Sign (ASL, JSL) which, though visual, has meaning. Japanese use Chinese characters which, though visual, have meaning.

Oliver Sacks points out that there are those that deny even this similarity, since there are those (including Roland Barthes) who deny that the visual can have meaning at all. But even accepting the premise of Sacks’ book, that language can be seen, perhaps the similarity between the deaf and the Japanese starts and ends with a trivial resemblance between Sign and Kanji.

Cutting to the chase, Sacks' book being a book about deaf, rather than a book about the deaf and the Japanese, does little to demonstrate similarities between deaf and Japanese culture. "Seeing Voices" does however, point to some possibilities and perhaps the most tantilising of these lies in Sacks observation that Sign language is not only a language for communicating with others, but also for thinking and for communicating with oneself. He provides clear evidence that the deaf Sign to themselves, and sign in their dreams. I have also noted that Japanese have a tendency to sign to themselves, such as Ichiro's famous baseball bat point, or more particularly the safety oriented pointing checks performed by those working on the Japanese railway system, for example. Sack's goes on assert, as a footnote (26) to page 59, given on page 161 of my version of the book, the use of sign as thought, not only to others but to and about oneself, by application of the Sapir-Whorph hyphotesis, may result in a "hypervisual cognitive style". I believe that this phrase may be appropriate to use about the Japanese as well.

Sacks claims that users of Sign, adept as they are at reading, and making (or is that speaking) visual meaning, often become “visual experts,” adept not just at “a visual language but [having] a special visual sensibility and intelligence as well.” (p84) Alas Sacks does not go into concrete cultural details of deaf visual expertise. Sacks does not mention that the deaf are good at anime, manga, computer games, architecture, manufacturing, visually stunning food preparation, becoming highly attractive idols, or many of the other things at which the Japanese may be argued to excel.

Sacks points out that deaf understanding of facial expressions may be better than that of the hearing. Alas research about Japanese interpretation of gesture is mixed. David Matsumoto points out Japanese inability to read “universal” emotions. Keiko Ishii demonstrates that Japanese can be more sensitive to the degree to which people smile (or at least when smiles disappear).

Most surprisingly, the neurological evidence that Sacks presents seems almost to directly contradict any assertion of similarities between the Japanese and the deaf. Sacks points out that deaf process Sign with their left brain, the same hemisphere that the hearing use to understand speec. He shows that deaf signers pull some seemingly non-linguistic (among hearers) processing, such as the processing of facial expressions, into their left/linguistic brain. Sacks further suggests that the left brain is well adapted to language and argues that there are deficiencies in right brain language. Research on neurological differences between Japanese and Westerners, is still fairly new or controversial, but, it is claimed that Japanese visual signs (Kanji) are processed at least in part by the right brain (E.g. Nakagawa 1993) and that Japanese pull the procession of phonic information (such as the sound of insect noises and music) into their linguistic left brain. If this is the case then, it would suggest that Kanji, processed as they are by the side of the brain not well suited to language, would have a deleterious affect upon Japanese language processing. And even that the Japanese are hyper-phonic, as oppose to hyper visual (like the deaf), since it is sounds that the Japanese process with the ‘linguistically superior,’ left hand side of the brain.

In order to achieve the sort of revolution that Sacks describes, being achieved by the deaf: that they, their visual culture, their Sign is not just a pantomime, but equally meaningful, one would have to go further even that Sacks avows. Sacks demonstrates that the visual and the deaf can be just as good as the oral/hearing, just that they do what they do in a different way. How much more difficult would it be to argue that the right brain is just as good at processing the world, but in a different way? This is not a path that Sacks, a Western neurologist, attempts to follow in this book at least (but see his "The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat").

Sacks’ description of the revolution underway in the world of the deaf, of how they are achieving a hard-won cultural autonomy, a reappraisal such that they are now different, rather than diseased was particularly moving. Perhaps I am romanticising Japanese culture too much, but it was in the description of the revolution, or the potential for one, that I found the greatest potential similarity between the deaf and the Japanese. It seems to me that being Japanese is not yet “depathologized” (p120), with commentators and educators in Japan still tending to present the West as being advanced, a model that Japan should still (after all these years) be aiming towards.

Sacks argues that deaf were initially non-receptive to the idea that Sign could be a language, or that it could be analysed, and were self-deprecating with regard to their visual culture (p114-115). I find that mystifying, empty-centred, self-deprecating theories of Japanese culture are still fairly mainstream, at least in academe. Will there one day be a Japanese cultural revolution, such as being experienced by the deaf or will Japan Westernise itself out of existence first? Or is this endeavour itself bogus, the product of another white male mind (my own), since the right brain, or where ever Japanese cultural excellence is situated may have no need of affirmative analysis.

Finally, Sacks makes the point that the deaf are not dumb, both in the sense that they are not stupid and in the sense that they can speak. In other words Sacks saves the deaf from perjorative appraisal, by pointing out that the deaf can in fact speak, in their own language, so they are not dumb -- in any sense but-- but rather different. Sacks writes "..for it is only through language that we enter fully into our human estate and culture, communicate freely with our fellows, aquire and share information. If we cannot do this....we may be so little able to realise our intellectual capabilities as to appear mentally defective. It was for this reason that the congenitally deaf, or "deaf and dumb" were considered "dumb" (stupid) for thousands of years...p8" This all sounds very brave and stirring, and it is, because Sacks succeeds in releasing the deaf from this derogatory appelation. But what of the "dumb"? People who can not speak, who are aphaisic, who do not have language remain in Sacks' view, unable to realise their intellectual capabilities. According to Sacks the dumb remain dumb; those without speech are intellectually impaired because speech is required for intellectual functioning.

This is a shame, and I believe unfair. in Sack's earlier book "The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat" in the essay "The Presidents' Speech" Sacks describes how even aphaisics, who do not have the ability to understand language, where nevertheless able to understand most of what is going on around them, even a presidential speech, perhaps even more than those that can hear and understand the words. What happened to the possibility that the ability to use language is just another one of many human abilities? Is the mastery of language essential to enter "our human estate" (whatever that may be) and culture? Is the use of a media of interpersonal communication for thought ("self-communication" as if it were not-an oxymoron) an essential prerequisite for thinking? Even assuming that that symbols are necessecessary for thought, is it a given that symbols that are good to think with, are also those that are good to communicate with. If the deaf can manage to think and communicate among themselves using sign and to communicate with the hearing using speech, then perhaps it is possible that the Japanese may be thinking in symbols that the are not using for speaking.

It seems that in the West at least, linguistic ability is considered to be a prerequisite, thinking is regarded as being self-communication using the same linguistic symbols that we use to speak to others, and thus those that can not speak are, even by Oliver Sacks, considered to be unable to think effectively. When reappraising a group that hithertoo been considered inferior, advocates posit the existance of another language (this work), a different voice (Gilligan, 1972 on women), their own words (Meltzer, 1987, on American Blacks) which, when we the outgroup understand it, will allow us to understand their excellence. But perhaps the Japanese do not have another language. Perhaps Japanese excellence is not to be found in any language. All the same the Japanese may be affirmative enough as they are. They just don't talk about it. The may not talk the talk, but they do walk the walk and always have.

The above image containts a cropped version of the cover design of Oliver Sacks' book "Seeing Voices" by Chipp Kidd

Labels: culture, japan, japanese culture, manga, nihobunka, nihonbunka, theory, westernisation, 日本文化, 欧米化

I feel a slight similarity between Enma and Sadako, from Ringu, and other Japanese horrors.

Sadako and her ilk often come out of the two dimensional world of image. Kayako in Juon appears out of mirrors, developing photographs (or a pool of developer), various nasties come out of scrolls (or are trappped in them) and Yotsuyakaidan's horrific woman, Oiwa, is thrown into water strapped to a fusuma or shouji (made two dimensional) but comes back. The Korean film "Mirrors," remade in the US, also has nasties come out of mirrors, in spades.

It seems to me that several of theses monsters pull their victims into the image. The freeze frame as Sanada Hiroyuki's character is killed by Sadako's stare suggests that to me. Perhaps Barutan Seijin's freezing gaze does the same thing. Kayako pulls people into the mirror and developer. Oiwa strapped to two dimensionality and put into water, pulls her lover into the watery (reflecting?) depths.

Enma too in a way pulls people into their mirror, even if/though he does not come out of it. He may come out of the mirror, since Buddhas are mirrors according to some.

Enma is also known for collecting tongues, of children that lie and for hooking those that fail the mirror test up by their tongue.

It seems to me that the "collecting of tongues," relates to the fact that just before Sadako kills (Sanada Hiroyuki's character and others) she seems to telephone them. But the telephone call is of only white noise.

And I wondered whether this telephone call, in Ringu is related to tongue collection. The horror first destroys language, and then sucks us, or us Japanese(d), into the two dimensional. Sadako telephones people with silence. Her phone call marks the end of language. Silencing the, she call her victims into her deathly two dimensional image world.

Sometimes I feel that a Japanese lady I love, does or attempts to do that, to me, with good reason of course. Something vaguely along the lines of "Oh, Excuses, cuses, oooses, booses, bubu, bubu" and then fixes me with her Sadakorical stare that says wordlessly, "see yourself!" Or perhaps as the ghost of Rokujouno-Miyasu-Dokoro says to Aoi, in a Noh play of the tale of Genji. Stamping her foot she says, "Omoishire!" Think and know. Reflect and know.

Lacan says that the self is the intersection between the real, language and image. Or that both linguistic and imaginary representations of self are essential to keep the self game going. Destroy one and the self collapses. Mute the voice or realise the otherness of the image, and one can achieve englightenment, madness, or hell, depending upon how one feels about it.

(The above, thanks to Shiensumisu's comment)

The above diagram (click image to see Japanese translation) is Paivio's Dual Coding Theory, of meaningful images and sounds.

It is interesting that scholars like Unger, Barthes, Saussure and Plato believe that only the sounds can have meaning (I think).

It seems to me that Japanese culture emphasises the right hand side of this diagram, whereas Western culture emphasises the left, to the point of claiming that only logogens exist, and that characters do not really mean anything without being translated or read into phonetic, logogens.

This wall hanging is a sort of poem or sooth which explains why Japanese people may not need to set concrete goals. It reads:

If we try our hardest today, then a little happiness will surely, surely be waiting for us tomorrow.

Many Japnaese people prefer to use this philosophy of effort in the present and leaving the future to itself. They anticipate that their future will be happy - a desirable future - due to the way in which they involve themselves the present to create what Naoko Sonoda calls a "Positive Present (mae muki na genzai)."

Due to the influence of Western culture, Japanese are being encouraged to set goals. This has advantages in that it allows for more control, but the excercise of control will enevitably result in some reduction in ability to make the most of the present. Very few Japanese seem to be aware of the downside of importing Western "goal-orientend" styles of management, education, or human behaviour.

This philosophy is not the same as "Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we die." It often involves a lot of hard work. This philosophy is perhaps more similar to "keep the ball rolling," recommending an ongoing attempt to keep ones life in motion towards unplanned, yet desirable events.

The theory was partly inspired by the management theory of Misumi Juuji who suggested that managers have two fundamental roles: to set goals and measure and reward goal achievement (performance), to create a positive working environment (maintenance). The above image would motto of the latter, environmentally focused "maintenence" managed workplace.

The wall hanging above was found in the toilet of a Japanese restaurant perhaps to encourage cleanly toilet behaviour.

In this Fuji-Xerox advert, the catch-copy is from the words of a complaint from a customer. "Do you even know how we use your copiers?"

The advert goes onto explain how all the employees of Fuji-Xerox continually look into how customers use their copiers, paying *grateful* attention to customers complaints, thoughts and advice.

The copy also reads "we do not stand around holding buckets of water even for one second", which refers to the fact that the staff of Fuji-Zerox do not see complaints, or "being told off" by their customers as a punishment at all, even for one second. This metaphor works because being told to hold buckets of water is a traditional Japanese corporal punishment.

Even if there were a US/UK advert that proclaimed the fact that the company recieved comlaint, which is itself unlikely, then perhaps they would have been standing with books on their heads.

Fuji-Xerox are proud of the fact and advertise the fact that they recieve complaints and see them as a way to critically self-reflect (hansei) and self-improve.

This Japanese (?) philosophy of energetic self-critisism is also found in the cultural psychology of Steven Heine, the manufacturing philosophy of Kaizen, the managment philosophy of Yanai Tadashi (chairman of the First Retailing - Uniqlo - group), the way that Ichiro maintains his game, and the Japanese psychonanalysis called "Naikan."

In addtion to the subtitles to what the speaker is saying, and in addition to the fact that they both read from a written speech rather than pretend to extemporize, both these leaders (one the minister for defence, the other a prefectural representative) are wearing overalls. Do they think, do we think, does anyone think that they will or should be doing manual labour? No.

All three Japanes cultural phenomena, or non-book-religion, non-logocentric phenomena, attestify to the fact that in Japan visual signs, be they subtitles on what someone is saying, the script that the person is reading, or the clothes that they are wearing, are more important than the phonemes. And this in spite of the fact that there are many Westerners that say only phonemes have meaning.

But to show their solidarity with those that are engaged in manual labour at this time of crisis, Japanese leaders choose to wear overalls.

C.f. the fact that, Japanese sports persons, no mater how much of a novice or not they are will get the right gear. Japanese sports persons some times have all the gear and no idea? What is an "idea" and how does one express it?

My heartfelt sympathy is with the victims of the Japanese earthquake.

[Originally posted to my Shinto Blog] Earthquakes - more horrifying than lightening and typhoons - were thought to be caused by the movements of a giant catfish.

While Typhoons and Lightening have patron gods (Fuujin and Raijin respectively) who are respected enough to be appeased, so cataclismic is the history of Japanese earthquake disasters perhaps, that they are not deified, but attributed to the maleficence of a big black fish.

Japanese catfish, or namazu, are or were thought to be, large lazy, bottom-dwelling fish with little culinary value who, for their part feel jealous of the admiration humans have for other fish species. Earthquakes were thought to be caused by the movements, or jealous malisciousness of giant catfish at the bottom of the sea, or beaneath the ground.

These catfish were held in place however by the god Takemikazuchi who is enshrined at two shrines in Ibaraki prefecture, including Kashima Jinguu (Imperial Shrine) in Kamisu City.

The Shinto deity uses an enourmous rock (whose tip can be seen in the shrine grounds - most of the rock is buried), his sword, or a giant gourd to prevent the catfish from moving.

The rock, the most famous means of keeping the catfish in places, is called a Kanameishi or keystone.

However, in moments of lapse, or while on holiday to Izumo in October - which is called the Godless-Month since all Shinto Kami are said to make the trip to Izumo.

In the 6th century book of poems, the Manyoshu (book of ten thousand verses) there is a poem which reads

"The keystone may wobble but it will not become unstuck so long as the Kami of Kashima Shrine is with us."

Reading this poem three times was believed to result in protection from earthquakes by 19th century dwellers in Edo (Tokyo).

The Giant Catfish was depicted in many Ukiyoe. The genre is known as Catfish-pictures but only 300 survive since they were banned by the Edo government.

As well as depicting the subjugation of the giant catfish by the God and the Key stone rock, they all so showed (as in the picture above) house builders taking a different attitude to the catfish. In the above picture the group of construction workers top left do not participate in subjugating the Catfish. In another picture they are shown worshiping or thanking the catfish for the profits that they earned.

After the great Tokyo earthquake of 1855 the catfish is also depicted as being responsible for redistributing wealth from rich to poor, and became regarded as a world repairing deity (Yonaoshi Daimyoujin).

So in the end it is probably true to say that Japanese religion, particularly Shinto, can be trusted to see a positive side to nature, even the most horrific, even in the face of great human loss and tragedy.

The above image is believed to be in the public domain. The above text is my interpretation of internet recsources such as Japanese wikipedia and these two blog posts (in english)
historyofgeology.blogspot.com/2011/01/namazu-earthshaker....
historyofgeology.blogspot.com/2011/03/historic-earthquake...
And the source of the above photo (in Japanese)
www.jcsw-lib.net/namazu/html/namazu/lime/006.html

Mirrors have been regarded as sacred at least since the Han Dynasty in China. Many of these mirrors and from the subsequent Wei dynasty have been found in Japan. They bore images of gods and sacred animals particularly the Chinese dragon (1,2) . They were very popular, and possibly later manufactured, in Japan. The bronze mirrors are found in great number in ancient (kofun period) burial mounds in Japan. In the biggest archeological find of 33 mirrors, the mirrors were placed surrounding the coffin such that their reflective surface faced the deceased. The Han mirrors were "magic" in that while they reflected they were also able to project an image usually of the deities and animals on the back and refered to as "light passing mirrors" (透明鑑） (Needham, 1965, p.xlic; Needham & Wang, 1977, pp. 96-97).This magic property is due to the their method of construction. When polishing the reflective face of the mirror, the patter on the back influences the pressure brought to bear on the reflective surface and change the extent to which it is concave. Muraoka also claims that Differences in the (slight) "inequality of curvature" (Ayrton & Perry, 1878, p 139; see also Thompson, 1897, and Needham & Wang, 1977, p96 for a diagram) of the mirror result in the mirror reflecting light bearing the pattern shown on the reverse. More recent research has elucidated the precise mathematical model describing the optics of these mirrors as a laplacian image (Berry, 2006), a type of spatial filter today used for edge detection and to blend two images together. It is not known whether the mirrors popular in ancient Japan were also able to project, but later during the Nara period mirrors were found to concel magic Buddhist images, and during the Edo period, concealed Christians (Kurishitan) concealed images of the cross or of the Holy Mary within their bronze "magic" mirrors. Mirrors in Japan contined to be made of brass, until the arrival of Western glass mirrors, and were "magic" in that they displayed the patter on their reverse when reflecting sunlight or other powerful light source (Thompson, 1897). Ayrton (Ayrton & Perry, 1878; Ayrton & Pollock, 1879) claims that in Japan mirror vendors were unaware of the "light passing" quality, and that there is no mention of this 'magical' quality known to Han Chinese in Japanese texts. Even a Japanese mirror maker was unaware of how to make magic mirrors though had inadvertently made one himself by extensive polishing a mirror with a design on its back (Ayrton & Perry, 1878, p135). Unlike the ancient Korean mirror top right (3), the ancient Han and Japanese mirrors were made to be rotated, displaying images in the four directions of the compas. The reason for the holes in the central "breast" (or nipple) is unclear but it is found to be pierced with a hole (of varying shape depending upon the manufacturer) from which the mirror was suspended by a rope. Bearing in mind that the images on the mirrors required that the mirrors be rotated, the central nodule might also have enabled the mirrors to be spun like a top. I am not sure why someone would want to spin a mirror but my son does (see the toy explained later). I would very much like to see what the reflected "magic" image becomes when spun. The creatures on the reverse will be merged in the reflected image but probably not in a laplacian way - just as concentric circles. If anyone has a magic mirror I would like them to try spinning it to see. Skipping the holy mirrors in shrines, mirror rice cakes, and the mirror held by the Japanese version of Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, King Enma, which holds a record of ones life, and, jumping to the present day... Mirrors are popular in the transformational items used by Japanese superheros. The early 1970's Mirror Man transformed using a Shinto amulet infront of any mirror or reflecting surface. Shinkenja, a group of Super Sentai or Power Rangers, that transforms thanks to their ability to write and then spin Chinese characters in the air, also transforms with the aid of an Inro Maru (4) upon which is affixed a inscribed disk. When the disk is attactched to the mirror the super hero inside the mirror is displayed. Transformation (henshin) by means of a mirror is popular too among Japanese femail super heros notably Himitsu no Akko Chan (Secret Akko), who could change into many things that were displayed in her mirror, sailor moon, and OshareMajo (6). The female super heroes mirrors usually make noises rather than contain inscriptions. The latest greatest Kamen Rider OOO sometimes transforms by means of his Taja-Spina which spins three of his totem-badge "coins" inside a mirror (video). In this ancient tradition we see recurrence of the following themes 1) Mirrors being of great benefit to the bearer enabling him to transform. 2) Mirrors containing hidden deities 3) Mirrors being associated with symbols: iconic marks, and incantations. 4) Mirrors being made to be rotated or spun. Thanks to James Ewing for the Mirror Man (Mira-man) reference and to Tomomi Noguchi for the Ojamajo Doremi reference, and to Taku Shimonuri and my son Ray for getting me interested in Japanese superheros. Addendum One of My students (A Ms. Tanaka, and a book about the cute in Japan) pointed out that the Japanese are into round things, and it seems to me that this Japanese preference for the round may originate in the mirror. Anpanman and Doraemon and many "characters" have round faces The Japanese Flag features a circle representing the sun and the mirror Japanese coats of arms (kamon) Japanese holy mirrors are round "Mirror rice cakes", and many other kinds of rice cake, are round The Sumo ring is round Pictures of the floating world (Ukiyoe) often portray the sitter in a round background Japanese groups always have to end up by standing in a round The Japanese are fond of domes and have many of the biggest The Japanese are fond of seals (inkan), which are round Japanese groups just can't help standing in a round The taiko drum is round The mitsudomoe is round Mount Fuji is round But then there are probably round things in every culture? Bibliography Created using Zotero Ayrton, W. E., & Perry, J. (1878). The Magic Mirror of Japan. Part I. Proceedings of the Royal Society of London, 28(190-195), 127–148. Ayrton, W. E., & Pollock, W. F. (1879). The mirror of Japan and its magic quality. London: Royal Institution of Great Britain. Needham, J. (1965). Science and Civilisation in China: Physics and physical technology. Mechanical engineering. Cambridge University Press. Needham, J., & Wang, L. (1977). Science and Civilisation in China: Physics and physical technology. I, Physics. Cambridge University Press. Berry, M. V. (2006). Oriental magic mirrors and the Laplacian image. European journal of physics, 27, 109. Retrieved from www.phy.bris.ac.uk/people/Berry_mv/the_papers/berry383.pdf Spatial Filters - Laplacian/Laplacian of Gaussian. (n.d.). Retrieved April 19, 2012, from homepages.inf.ed.ac.uk/rbf/HIPR2/log.htm Thompson, S. P. (1897). Light Visible and Invisible: A Series of Lectures at Royal Institution of Great Britain. Macmillan. Retrieved from www.archive.org/stream/lightvisibleinvi00thomuoft#page/50...

An estranged non-Japanese father, whose children have been 'abducted' by a Japanese mother, expressed the opinion that while he believes in and respects justice, law, and rights of children, the Japanese, or the Japanese legal system does not.

This issue is massive, and massively tragic. The agony and the outrage are palpable.

I beileve that if I were in the position of a parent whose child were 'abducted,' I would be feeling the same way, reacting in the same way, decrying, petitioning, lobbying and doing all that is in my power to affect change, in the same way, in any way, with all my heart and all my strength.

At the same time, I ask myself, do the Japanese believe in justice, law and the rights of their chidlren? I am sure that the Japanese do. And yet, there is a real tragedy.

I think there are important, equally massive, cultural differences.

If I were to put this opinion - that there are 'cultural differences' - to a Western estranged parent, I would expect them to say, "Oh cutural differences! What bull! Another name, another excuse for gross injustice."

So, I am not suggesting that nothing should change. But there are two ways of making change, two types of change that one might hope for:

1) That change be made at the national/cultural boundary.
If one believes that there are cultural differences, then one may strive for change at the boundary between cultures, such that parents from other nations be given rights under Japanese law that are not given to Japanese parents, due to the fact that the marriages were based in more than one culture, in more than one law.

2) That changes should be made universaly, applying in Japan too.
If one believes that the Japanese, as they stand, do not respect justice, law, and the rights of their children (as is argued by many estranged Western parents) then the change that needs to be made is of type (2): All parents, be they non-Japanese or Japanese, should be allowed dual custody because the present Japanese system is just bad, patently and universally bad.

I think that (1) is the answer, because it will be more likely to succeed, because the Japanese family system works, and because change at the former level will not destroy Japanese society. Change as an exception, for predominantly Western fathers, is more likey to succeed because it will not devastate Japanese culture. I think that dual custody if made law in Japan would have enourmously adverse effects.

It seems to me that in Japan people get married primarily in order to have custody of, that is to say to have relationships with, children. If dual custody were enforced, and the realisation of its enforcement were to sink in, to become a commonplace, become accepted from the outset, then that would be the end of the Japanese family. Kaput.

I suspect that the legitimization of dual custody in Japan would be akin to the legitimization of marital infidelity in the West. It would make the critical family bond in each culture meaningless. The concept of family would be negated.

Labels: culture, nihobunka, nihonbunka, sex, westernisation

Today a Mr. Takehara failed to get elected as a major of a small Japanese town under a baner of reducing the power of public administrators.

Why is it that the Japanese are so tolerant of the power of bureaucrats, civil servants? Why is that so many young people want to become a bureaucrat, and do not feel shame about taking home a higher level of pay than their private-sector constituents, for doing less work?

Many young people (my students) are quite frank about wanting to avoid the world of private-sector, competitive work, to obtain a higher level of pay and job security (so they think at least) in the public sector, and go home earlier.

One reason is that the world of non-civil-servant, private-sector work is so hard in Japan. I guess that people can see the private sector, as being unacceptably harsh, and that it is therefore morally acceptable to go to work in the public sector where people to work acceptable hours for acceptable pay.

Another is that since the public sector is so desirable the public sector can take only the best (academic-hensachi-wise) so those that enter the public sector feel that they are the top of the heap, and therefore more deserving of a high salary.

And after all, someone has to be a bureaucrat, so 'why shouldn't it be me (especially if I have the best grades, can pass the strictest, public employee exams)?'

But more than that, there is little notion of public sector employees being "civil-*servants*;" people who exist to support the profit-making activities of the private sector. It seems to be felt that the public sector is rather the centre of society, or the centre of the economy, and the profit-making private sector is there to support those that perform the 'central role' of bureaucratic administration. I feel this to be the case in the macroscopic world of Japanese society, in the Japanese company, and in microscopic world of the Japanese family.

The (from a Western point of view) reversed view of the public and private sectors of the economy, may relate to the position of men and women, or rather their roles, in the Japanese family. The division between the public-administrative vs. private-profit-making sectors of the Japanese economy, map onto the care-giving (administrative?) vs. wage-earning roles in the Japanese family.

In the West wage earners tend to be seen as the central, respected, prime-movers of the family. Thus people, of both sexes, hanker after taking this role, whereas the caregiver is seen as merely a supporter, a servant. In Japan, I think that the situation is reversed. The caregiver, usually the mother, is the center of the Japanese family, and the wage earner is that beast of burden. If the Japanese family is a steam locomotive, the caregiver is the driver and the wage-earner is the 'fireman' who shovels the coal. Young people respect the central, administrative, rent-taking, role of their primary care giver and see the wage earner as an appendage that does that necessary, but rather tiresome and dirty, money-making-sarari-man-thing.

There is probably nothing objectively "central" about the private or public sectors, the "rent-taking" administrators, or the "profit making" labourers, each need each other, as do caregivers and wage earners. Without the latter there would be no one to pay the taxes, and without the former there would be to social structure to allow people to make a profit in the first place. In the family, there is nothing more central to being a care-giver, nor being a wage-earner. It all depends upon the cultural lens from which you look at it.

There are problems though:

First of all, of course, reversals can take some getting used to. It will take me all my life to get used to! I still try and break the rules (sorry folks!) Or perhaps I attempt to reach a compromise. Ahem.

Secondly, things can get extreme. A society can become over infatuated with the profit making side of things, and over infatuated with administration. I am not sure if that is what is happening in Japan, but the level of public debt makes me worry.

Thirdly, strange edge-effects can happen when rerversed cultures mingle, especially when one of them has a louder voice, and there is incomplete understanding of the situtations pertaining in each culture. For example, the Western feminist notion that Japanese caregivers are downtrodden, that they deserve even more, or the notion that the Japanese private sector is unduly harsh, find favour even among the elites, and may tip the balance in an unhealthy extreme directions.

Solutions? Japan may once have had a stronger Confucian-style sense of noblesse oblige amongst its central, administrators and caregivers. If I knew Confucius better I would be able to point to the sooth where Confucius recommends that leaders put their subjects welfare first. And are there still any supporters of dansonjohi(“honor men and belittle women.”)? The idea that a society should honor men and belittle women is abhorent to Western ears, because it is not understood as noblesse oblige. It is in fact no worse, nor better, nor different to "Ladies First."

Labels: bureacrats, care-givers, feminism, japanese culture, nihonbunka, reversal

This is a picture copyright

I am strongly opposed to the opposition to Japanese dolphin hunting.

I think that dolphins are more intelligent than cows and pigs, and am sad about their death.

However,
1) I think that cows and pigs are intelligent,

2) I do not think that intelligence is an acid test of what should be killed. Sensitivity to suffering might be equally valid. I think that cows are very sensitive to their suffering.

3) I think that cows and pigs have a far, far, far worse life in and bred for, captivity, especially when boxed all their lives.

I think that slaughtering dolphins in coves appears appaling, because

1) It is

2) One can view it .
Essentially, hunting takes place in the place that the animals live, so it is viewable. Abbattoir slaughter takes place in closed environments controlled by the meat eaters.
The scenes from "The Cove" are unlike the scenes in abattoirs in many ways. But I believe that equally gruesome things are going on in abbatoirs, at vastly greater scale, especially after having visited one.

3) There is a contrast between the freedom of the animals and their death.
If an animal has been bred for food, and especially has lived all its life in a cage, the the horror of its demise may appear deminished. However this lack of contrast hides the true horror, that of living ones life in a box bound for slaughter. Battery farming of cattle, pigs and chickens is, in my view, so much more unpleasant than killing wild animals that it is difficult to compare. The slaughter of battery farmed animals is infinately more disgusting than the slaughter of wild species due to the hellishness of the life that the animals have lead prior to their death.

The slaughter of the hunt appears appalling from a third person perspective, because the third person sees the contrast between freedom and the death. But from the first person/animal perspective (which should be? what counts) the un-hunted, bred to die animal is vastly more miserable.

Ric O'Barry guy goes to Japanese supermarkets to lament the death of his "friends." Does he have no friends who are cows bred in cages for beefburgers? Does he not care for their thousands of times, hundreds of thousands of times, more miserable existance?

I deeply opposed to his group, bearing in mind the vastly, enourmously, grotesquely (I lack adverbs) greater suffering going on in other means of human protein production, compared to the yet tragic slaugher of dolpins.

It seems to me that this movement is a cultural defense mechanism. The movement is in part, I feel, an attempt to allow those that participate in the movement, or have sympathy with the movement, to forget the infinitely more profound horror of slaughtering animals bred and living in small cages, to die by a slightly quicker means.

Would you rather have been born a dolpin that died in Taji, or a cow that lived and died in a battery farm?

Is there even a question? The answer is no. There is no question. The horror of the "beef" (cow) that became a burger is so far worse, that there is no question, no viable comparison. The dolpin was hunted and killed, in pain. The cow's whole life was hell.

Weep by all means for the dolphins that die in Taji. And do not eat them. And do not go to dolphin shows in aquaria. And if you feel this sadness, or even if you don't, go wild, wild, wild with grief, and rage, for the life of the animal that made up your protein in the food that you will eat today.

Take out the plank in your own eye Mr. O'Barry. Take out the redwood tree in the eyes of your peers, before you point out the splinter in the eyes of others.

Disgusting. Ric O'Barry and his movement disgusts me.

I have been in Japan a long time. It is my country now (whatever everyone else may think). So, I get upset when Japan is insulted. And I find this advert for "The Cove" or its agenda really insulting.

I am not keen on making animals suffer. I have lived and worked in the proximity of sheep, cows and pigs. They strike me as being very intelligent. They all seem "aware" in one way or another. Sheep have friends, even human friends. They ball their guts out when they loose their children. Cows have character. They are certainly sensitive. Pigs, well they are as intelligent at least as dogs. They almost seem to have a sense of humour. And yet I eat them, my friends. Many of the people who appear in the video above also eat the bodies of "my friends".

Hell, indeed, we are all watching the Internet when children are dying. Human children are dying, for the lack of an injection, a bowl of rice. And snakes are eating mice. And spiders are eating flies. What am I getting at?

I am all for those that point out and do something about suffering. But when a bunch of cow-eaters come to the other side of the world to 'expose' and talk about the suffering caused by an out-group, an other, a victimisable, demonisable other, that gets my goat.

I posted the following to an English language news website below an article about the dolphin hunt in Taji, where, above my comment anglophones had called for questions to be asked of at the forthcoming Taji council meeting, and had expressed distress about the hacking to death of dolphins. Here are the questions I would like asked.

What is wrong with blood and hacking? Is it the colour? The arm movements? Or the suffering? Are animals being brought up in coffin sized cages for *all their lives* and then being shipped, herded, and finally electrocuted, squealing, suffering any less? Or perhaps infinitely more? Which would you prefer, what would anyone, any animal prefer: freedom while being hunted, or a a whole life in coffin-sized enclosure with a 'quick' bolt to the brain waiting at the end? Do you now what percentage of 'humanely slaughtered cows' are alive as they are turned into steak? Don't you feel inclined to take the moat out your compatriot's eyes first?
Does having saved a human represent any acid test of inedibleness? Does eating dogs t herefore represent bararity? Don't many creatures live in harmony with each other, helping each other? Do we therefore not eat all the helpers? Is it only helpers of humans that should not be eaten? What is it about dolphins that you find so inedible?
What is it about cows and pigs and chickens that makes them so low, so infinately low, that one can torture them and slaughter them for so much longer in so vastly greater a quantity? For the sake of reducing animal suffering, don't you wish that all the animal protien in the world was obtained by the hunt of wild species, rather than life-long-box-tortured animals? Are you or your supporters using this movement, their interest in this movement, as an excuse, a way of forgetting the vastly more grotesque, torturous slaughter of enourmous proportion going on in your own countries? Do you realise that your dolphin lovin' cow-torturin' cultural hypocracy turns some folks' stomachs? Does demonising the killing of animals in another country help to reduce animal suffering, or encourage people to forget the torture going on in their kitchen? Are you for real? Do you have no shame?

The English language media outlet in question immediately censored my post above as being irrelevant. So I post it here.

I don't approve of hacking, bludgeoning, electocuting, captiuve-bolt-pistolling anything to death, and even less doing after keeping that thing, that animal in a cage all its life. I approve even less of the "projection" in freudian terms, going on the above video because I think that it lets the suffering continue. By presenting the suffering as something that takes place elsewhere, upon animals that oneself does not slaughter, it enables these fine celebrities, and their fans, to ignore what is going on around them.

Social Loafing is the name of "the first" social psychological phenomena, wherein those working as a member of a team, such as pulling a rope, are less likely to put their back into it as when they are pulling the rope on their own. There is research to show that in Asian countries (but not this photograph!) reverse social loafing or 'social trying' is also found (Karau & Williams 1993). Other Japanese research (Kugihara, N., 1998) shows that Japanese men are inclined to engage in Social Loafing but Japanese women are not. And finally Yamagishi's extensive research (e.g. Yamagishi 1998, The structure of Trust) shows that Japanese are likely to engage in social loafing if they are not keeping check on each other, but in a face to face situation where they can censure each other, then they are likely to engage in social loafing (or at least subjects made distribution choices in a game experiment based, apparently, upon these assumptions).
If it is the case that, at least in face to face group situations, Japanese are more inclined to try harder when in a group, then I presume that this has big implications for management and education theory where social loafing theory encourages the individualisation of tasks, reward and responsibility so as to maximise individual pride in outcomes, and gains in self-esteem, and to minimise social loafing.

I thought it was only me that got pissed off with the way that all till operators use ones change as a paper weight for the receipt that few people want. If you are holdilng your purchase in your other hand it is difficult to throw the reciept away without dropping your change.

I found out recently that a Japanese 'comic folk band' Briefs and Trunks complained about this in their hit song Konbini (Convenience Store). But still the tellers keep doing it, at every store in Japan.

The main reasons for this beahviour is, that if you are going to give someone a reciept into their single outstretched hand, there is very little option. If the teller were to put the reciept on to of the change, it would probably fall off. The issue is not so much where their put the reciept, but that they give it to you at all. Do I look like I want a reciept for my ice lolly?

The cultural issue focuses on the importance of reciepts and the reasons for them are more complex. So many people, especially housewives keep detailed accounts of all their expenditure so treasure their reciepts, Japanese like visual signs and a visual record of a transaction, Japanese people like to exchange so even though there is a transaction of money for goods the reciept is another thing that the buyer gets in return for their money, even though Japan is one of the safest most crime free places in the world (and one of the reasons why it so) the Japanese like to avoid conflict at all costs and the existence of a receipt reduces potential conflict over the amount tendered, the Japanese like little pieces of paper (which is a homonym for God), the Japanese like wrapping (see "Wrapping Culture" by Joy Hendry) and perhaps the reciept wraps the deal.

Japanese Arabic Numerals

Japanese style roman numerals, or “Japanese Arabic Numerals” (hereafter JAN) are different to their US/European counterparts.

Native speakers of English should be especially careful when writing one, five, six, and seven, paying attention to the differences shown in the image.

1) JAN one should be written in a single stroke without the tick at the top, as in the above left, lest it be confused with JAN seven (also in the above diagram, far right).

5) JAN five should be written with the bottom part written first, followed by a bar to form. If it is written with the top bar first, and the top and bottom do not quite join then it could be confused with a JAN three. Having said tat, the JAN three is preferably written with a curved top. Incidentally JAN 5 is written in the same way as bottom of the character, “kangaeru”考, meaning “to think”.

6) JAN six should be written so that no part of the horizontal line sticks out to the left of the vertical as in the above diagram, lest it be confused with a sloppy JAN 4, which may be written with a single stroke, such that it ends up looking very much like a 6.

7) JAN seven should be written in the same way as the katakana, “wa” ヮ, with (compared to the US/UK character) an extra downward tick written first. Sevens written with a single stroke like this 7, and French style sevens are unacceptable.

0) While it has nothing to do with JAN, care should be taken to make sure that zeros meeting at the top since otherwise zeros with a line at the top may be mistaken for a “6”.

A word version of this explanation, with annotations can be downloaded here.

Labels: japanese culture, 日本文化

I have been claiming that while the Westerners tend to be very "logocentric" or linguistic, Japanese are more inclined to concentrate on visual information, especially when it involves themselves. Hence Westerners care about linguistic self-expression, and carry around with them an "Other" or "Superaddressee" that reflects their speech acts upon themselves. And Japanese care about visual self expression (clothes items, things, pointing) and carry around with them, a "mirror in their head" (Heine and Takemoto, et. al).

However, lately I have been forced to realise that Jane Bachnik is right and I was wrong: It is not that the West is linguistic and Japan is "occular," nor even that Western signs are sounds rather than images, but rather it the difference is in the way that Japanese and Westerners use signs, or the type of signs that they use.

Jane Bachnik claims that Japan is (to paraphrase Barthes) "the empire of the *indexes*".

What are indexes? Indexes are a type of sign, in American linguist Pierce's taxonomy of signs. Their most famous subgroup are icons, such as on your computer screen. Icons are strictly speaking, indexes that have a resemblance to that which they represent, such as the famous trashcan which represents the deletion of computer files and thus has a likeness to its meaning. More purely indexical is the Nike logo, called a "swoosh," which gets to mean "Nike" by virtue of the fact that it is printed on all their products and displayed at the end of their adverts, rather than by its similarity to a running shoe. Indexes get their meaning by their "contiguous relationship" with the thing that they refer to. That means that they are often displayed at the same time in the same place, or immediately before or afterwards in time and space. Many of the typical examples of indexes are natural phenomena related causally, hence smoke is an index for fire, thunder an index for lightening (and vice versa), and the mercury in a thermometer is an index for the temperature. Perhaps the important thing about indexes is that they have a direct, one-to-one relationship with that which they represent. As mentioned in my previous post, indexical thought may have a lot in common with "savage thought" as defined by Levi-Strauss. Indexes are one part of the word, used as a sign for another part.

What other types of signs are there? That a sign has a direct one to one relationship with that which it represents may seem pretty much the way that all signs are. But Saussure, and even ancient Buddhists have pointed out that linguistic signs (at least in the West!) are defined by their relationship to other signs, "cat" is understood by its relationship to "bat," and "dog." Phonemic words (at least) mean, have meaning, by virtue of not being other words.

Returning to indexes, another famous example of an index is a pointing finger. It has meaning because you can see what it is pointing at. Jane Bachnik proposed the theory that indexes are important to the Japanese from consideration of the importance of such words such as inner and outer ("uchi" and "soto") or front and back ("omote" and "ura"), which are used extensively to describe social interactions. Like pointing fingers however, these spacio-metaphorical words have meaning in contextual locations, and shift their meaning depending upon who is saying them. Inner (uchi) e.g. my family, for me will be outer (soto) for you and vice versa. Bachnik struggles with this shifting aspect of indexes, and I believe emphasises their shiftiness more that I do. Indeed, I think that is were Bachnik and I differ. For Bachnik indexes are inherently shifty and subjective, but for me, I think it depends upon the culture from which one looks upon them. I will come back to this point but first I will introduce some examples of where Bachnik's theory of Japan as the empire of the indexes is useful.

A few days ago I was out in a river bay on my kayak and at 6 o’clock, or one or two minutes before or after came the sound of the tannoy sound system that announce this time (and perhaps that it is time for dinner, time to go home from the rice fields) to the local inhabitants. Some of the 6-oclock-sounds were simply sirens, others were the melodies from folk songs (often Scottish, for reasons unknown) and there was one sound of someone ringing a temple bell. Since they localities around the bay were slightly out of sync, the continued for about 5 minutes, before the bay returned to silence. These sounds can be heard at least twice a day, also at noon. In some rural prefectures the local town hall will make announcements such as "the primary school children have all safely returned from their school trip." Sticking to the noon and 6pm sirens, it is clear that that they are phonic not visual signs, so bang goes my theory that the Japanese are into their visuals. This is a very Japanese, very phonic sound. It is also an index. The sounds get their meanings (certain times of day) by occurring at those times of day, contiguously with the little hand of the clock pointing at six.

More importantly, it would be very untrue to suggest that the Japanese do not place considerable significance on language, but the way that they do it is different. It is easy to point to areas in which, from a Western, logocentric point of view, the Japanese do not seem to place a great deal of importance upon language. "Japan is a society without dialogue" as Nakajima points out, (Taiwa no Nai Shakai), in which university students never ask questions, decisions are made before committees deliberate (and debate) on the issues, political debate tends toward the grey with the manifestos of all parties being very much the same, rules are often reinterpreted in surprising ways (e.g. "scientific whaling"), there is a lot of flattery ("oseiji"), and there are books extolling the vagueness of the Japanese. At the same time however, there are some instances in which it is clear that Japanese take words *really* seriously.

Today there was a tragic story in the only English language "Japan Today" news site. An eight year old Japanese girl committed suicide apparently because she had been the victim of bullying. And the bullying consisted (perhaps solely, since the culprit remains unknown) in finding the word "die" written on her pencil case and books. As the father of a daughter my heart goes out to the parents. At the same time, as a Westerner I find myself confused. In Anglophone countries it has become vogue (and the subject of pop song lyrics) to tell people to go away and die in far more offensive language, but I doubt that many or any of the "victims" feel as traumaticised as this 8 year old did. It is clear that some words can be very offensive in Japan, and that the Japanese can take them very seriously with tragic results.

That Japanese take bad words seriously is supported by the fact that there are few expletives in Japanese. Instead of accusing someone you intensely dislike of being incestuously involved with their mother, one claims that their mothers belly button sticks out. The word for the female sex organs is felt to be so rude that it can not be used, so that Japanese sex educators have had to experiment with the use of "girl willy."

A Japanese teacher of debating skills bewails the aforementioned lack of debate in Japan, ascribing it to the belief in the spirit of words. He argues that debate requires that one examine the pros and cons, the positive and negative outcomes of an act. Japanese do not like to talk about negative outcomes, lest they come true as a result, so debate is often avoided. Hence it is precisely the belief in *the power of words* motivates the avoidance of dialogue.

This phenomena again relates to the theory of indexes. Indexes have meaning by their direct relationship with that which they mean, rather than by their position in a language or discourse. Thus the word death may conjure up the state and event of death far more strongly among Japanese (who avoid even homonyms of the word), than among Anglophones for whom death is associated with life and birth. Speaking the word "death" to an indexical thinker may even bring death upon them, but speaking the word death to a linguistic dialogic thinker may bring them to life.

That Japanese see words as being particularly disturbing is often related to their belief in "word-spirits" (kotodama, shinko). This is the ancient belief that words hare imbued with spirit such that their utterance can make the word come true. Hence for this reason, certain words weakly related to the concept of divorce (such as "go home") are avoided at Japanese weddings lest they encourage the bride to "go home to her parents" and divorce the groom.

Finally, returning to Bachniks feeling that indexes shift more than other types (our types) of sign, I can not agree. Words in western society, even those that underpin our society, such as freedom and justice, good and bad, are interpreted in many ways. That they share particular interpretations, and remain important to us, is the result of a cultural practice of internalising language via the "Other" "Generalised Other" or "Superaddressee" of language. This linguifying of the psyche does not have to be done, and the Japanese do not do it. On the other hand, that Japanese identify far more greatly with the visual self representations, theire face, and with "lococentric" (Lebra) clasifications of society such as inner and outer (uchi and soto) does not imply that Japanese society is more shifting, but rather that they have learnt to internalise a co-experiencer, a mirror in their head (Heine and Takemoto et al.), something with which to nail the context down, to sew the subjective worlds of experience, these fish-bowls together.

This post layers Suzuki Takao's layered theory of Japanese, onto Roland Barthes theory of "myth" and Levi-Straus's theorey of "the savage mind."

Levi Strauss argued that "savages" are "bricoleurs" (people that use the tools and materials to hand to get a job done), in that they use things, usually found in the natural world, to categorise and organise their societies.

Thus *savages* in totemistic societies may have "Black Hawk" and "White Hawk" groups, and be called by names like "Sitting Bull." They use species of bird and animal as names for clans, families and individuals, because these things are useful to get the job of social categorisation done, and thus "good to think."

Had Levi-Strauss been more rigorous (I jest) he would have noted that some totemist use mythical and corporeal, artificial signs. There are "Water Flask" and "Dragon" tribes. Concentrating on these man-made signs Levi-Straus' definition of "the savage as bricoleur" starts to become rather vague. If the savage can make up entities (such as dragons) to use as names then how is the savage different from "Levi" named after some ancient Jews Straus? If the savage can use man made objects as names, then why not use patterns, and write his name "LEVI" and be done with it. And if he did, would he still be a savage? The problem with Levi-Strauss for me is that I can't find the place where he compares savages to himself, or where he explains what we are doing, and whether and in what way what they are doing is different. (As far as I am aware, I am a bricoleur too. My name is Timothy, the name of a semi-mythical 'beast' found in the Bible.)

Then Roland Barthes comes to the rescue with his theory of "Mythological" signs. I think that despite the fact Barthes analyses magazine covers and pasta advertisements,he uses the word "Mythologiges" because he is harking back to Levi-Strauss above, and providing a semiotic distinction between us and them, between anthropologist and the mythologist, the scientist and the bricoleur. The distinction of myth, mythological thought, and the savage mind is that it uses signs in combination at a two teired level of "denotation" and "connotation." The briocoleur/mythologists uses second level, connotative signs, that is to say signs in combination that are already signs for other things (see diagram, inset bottom right).

Hence, the black boy and the saluting (a flag) shown on the cover of Paris Match, are in themselves signs. We recognise them and their meanings, of respect, youth, and Africa etc. The cover becomes mythic because it combines these signs to present a new meaning: imperialism is good, all of France's colonial subjects respect the French flag.

Suzuki Takao argues that the Japanese language is appropriate for use as an International Language. I happen to agree. The principle reason he gives is interesting, one that I had not grasped, and relates to the discussion of myth, or savage thought above. Suzuki argues that the advantage of Japanese is in the two-teired way that it is "agglutinative". A simple definition of aggluntinative is that, in ancient greek (soci-ology) and modern German (auto-bahn) one can form words by joining other words together. In Japanese however, the situation is a little more mythological, the process of agglutination often involves an extra layer. In Japanese, while there are cases in which one simply joins words together (e.g. torihiki, pull-push meaning negotiations), one can form complex words by combining the signs, or Kanji, for everyday words.

This layering of Japanese can be discussed at two levels.

At the level of discussion of the merits of the Japanese language, or German and Japanese respectively, the layered nature of Japanese makes it a lot more compact. Complex German words are formed by joining shorter simple, everyday words together, resulting in some very long compound words. Japanese on the other hand uses the signs, or Kanji, for the everyday words and joins these together instead. Since the Kanji have shorter (kun yomi) names of their own, long compounds can be said using far fewer syllables. In Suzuki Takao's example the round lighting devise used above operating tables in hospitals is "Schattenfreie Lampe" (Shadow-Free-Lamp) in German, and "mu-kei-tou"（無影灯）in Japanese. It gets to be a lot shorter in Japanese because mu, kei and tou are the names for the signs that represents "no shadow lamp" (nai, kage, akari). So while learners of Japanese may think it a pain in the neck that Japanese not only has Kanji, but also has more than one name for each, Suzuki argues, quite successfully in my view, that it is this layered structure that makes Japanese so successful in expressing complicated meanings, using few simple buildings blocks, without resulting in some very long words.

At another level, it seems to mean that Japanese are always being "mythologists" or "bricoleuers" as defined by Roland Barthes and Levi-Strauss in that they are using the denotive signs for every-day things in combination to connote new meanings. They are still engaging in "savage thought."

And so what? I am not sure, but I think that it relates to:

Roland Barthes claim that Japan is "The Empire of the Signs"

Jane M. Bachnik's discussion of the prevalance and importance of "indexes" in Japan, in her opening chapter of "Situated Meaning." (Would Barthes have written "The empire of the indexes" had he been more precise? Are totems indexes? Are indexes always dual, dennotive and connotive?)

My claim that Shinto is a form of totemism that stopped using stones and branches and grass (as related in detail by Kunio Yanagita, back in the days when "everything used to talk") as their totemic badges, and started to use Kanji for their names (when, thanks to the ordered rule of the emperoro "everything stopped talking")


The fact that Japanese superheros are totemists.

Labels: nihobunka, nihonbunka, religion, superhero, theory, totemism, アニミズム, トテミズム, 宗教, 日本文化

Red is language, blue is gesture.

The upper arrow represents Western language and gesture, with the upper part, language dominant, and the gesture supporting, emphasising and clarifying the linguistic meaning to convey the same message. Kendon (Gesture: Visual Action as Utterance) seems to espouse the view that gestures is generally, or universally bound up with language, as shown by the red-blue arrow.

The lower two arrows represent my feeling about Japanese gesture and language. In Japanese culture which emphasises the split between real meaning (honne本音) and social pleasantry (tatemae　建前), and has lots of essentially non-linguistic fawning (amae 甘え) and ESP (ishindenshi 以心伝心）, or extolls people to "read the air (or non-verbal cues?)" (KY, kuuki wo yomu, kuuki ga yomenai空気を読め、空気が読めない), it seems to me that the two channels, gesture and language can mean different things (hence two arrows), the non-verbal blue arrow can be the true/real/main channel, and the language can be phatic or supurfluous and ignored (hence the bar).

I used to get the feeling (real or imagined) that Japanese verbal and non-verbal communication was tearing me in two like Bateson's schizo producing "double bind," because while I was attempting to attend to the verbal message. It felt like the sender was sending, and other recievers were reading, correctly, the sender's non-verbal communication that meant something else entirely.

I feel that Britons do the same thing, when they are being sarcastic. On the other hand Americans especially tend to tell it to you straight, "watch my lips", with the two channels bound together.

It could be argued however, that Japanese real meaning (honne 本音) is transmitted equally in the verbal linguistic domain, and it was just that I was not able to decode these linguistic meanings correctly. Such as when someone says "thats good" (ii desu いいです） or "I'll think about it" (kangaemasu 考えます） then even in the absence of non-verbal cues, a Japanese person would decode these statements correctly to mean "no thank you" and "the answer to your request is no" respectively. Thus Japanese verbal communication may be at one with Japanese non-verbal communication, but that one should interpret certain verbal statements in a non-literal way.

In a series of papers (e.g. this interesting study) by Sotaro Kita, a professor at Birmingham University compared for instance, Japanese, Turkish and English speakers use of gesture to describe a cartoon showing someone on a swing. Dr. Kita points out that there is no verb "to swing" in Japanese or Turkish. He further found that English speakers moved their hands in an arc when saying "swing" but that Japanese and Turks, when using more general movement verbs meaning "go", moved their hands in a linear movement. Hence the lack of a verb "to swing" (to move in an arc) results in a lack of a arc motion, swinging gestures. If it really were the case that Japanese gestures were independent of speech then one would expect them to move their hand in a swinging arc even though they do not have the verb to express that motion. Since this is not the case, it seems to suggest that Japanese gesture is closely integrated with Japanese speech rather than being an fully independent channel. While some information (notably the direction of swing) was gestured but not spoken, suggesting that gesture is to some extent independent of speech, this tendency to encode extra-verbal data in gesture was the same for all languages in the study.

Hence, the diagram above seems to be demostrably wrong.

But I still get the feeling that Western gesture is more integrated with speech, and that language and gesture form a single/merged channel to a greater extent than in Japan.


Stop press. I have just read the final line of the Sotaro Kita paper linked above, which ends "There are initial findings that speech gesture synchrony differs accorss different languages"
referencing in particular research by Dr. Kita's colleague, Asli Özyürek:
Özyürek (2001) What Do Speech-Gesture Mismatches Reveal
about Speech and Gesture Integration? A Comparison of English
and Turkish. I am guessing that Dr. Özyürek found greater integration in English than Turkish and that this patter would also be found between English and Japanese.

Labels: mime, nihobunka, nihonbunka, 日本文化

So why do Japanese people wear these "hachimaki" headbands?

I am thinking in particular about the headbands worn by people studying, rather than the headband worn by the gentleman in this photo, who is taking part in a festival but the following might be applied to anyone wearing a headband with writing on it.

Perhaps those who want to concentrate on studying in a Western,
logo-culture, may make a pledge to others and themselves, and remind themselves of their intention to study using phonological thoughts (that is to say remembered and orally produced but silent phonemes) their mind "I've gotta study. I promised everyone I would study. This test is really important to me." Westerners are said to be able to simulate how they sound to others, that is to say they hear the words that the speak from the others point of view, and internalise the reactions that others would have upon hearing them. This is the essence of logocentrism: phonetic words are thought to provide "presence," (is that what Derrida calls it?) the immediate, inseparable, instantiation of their objective meaning. It all sounds so persuasive. Words just mean. But perhaps to some (to Japanese people) spoken words are communicative - allocentric, *for others*.

Perhaps the Hajimaki headband, which usually has ideograms written on it like "try hardest" "must win" is a bit like these pledges and resolutions. They seem to be more allocentric (is that the word?) in that the signs are all pointing outwards, to others. And to an extent this is the case. The headband is far more like a pledge to others. But I think that the wearer will also be made aware of the fact he or she is signing his or her intention to study hard, so the signs and the headbands, often worn in private, so they are also a message to self. Japanese are thought to be able to simulate how they appear to others, that is to say they see themselves from others' points of view and internalise the reactions that others would have upon hearing them. Hence, and I guess that this is the nub of imago-centrism, signs (visual ones) mean as soon as they are out there, like they are shouting a message, like they are one of those loop tapes that Japanese are so good at ignoring. The fact that signs are so "loud" (from a western point of view) may be why the japanese avoid Japanese writing on their T-Shirts. To have a T-shirt with "Frankie Says War" (this reference is probably way too ancient for you) would be like going around saying "Frankie Says War, Frankie Says War" to everyone they meet. The headband is like that. "I am studying, I am studying, I am studying" it is a sign of and a self-stimulation to persist.


C.f. Finger Pointing Checks (signing to the self)
http://www.burogu.com/2010/03/finger-pointing-and-specular-self-of.html

And my new take on why there is Engrish on T-Shirts
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SayQAPhdXMw

Howszat?

Looking on flickr I see that many hachimaki have nothing on them. In that case I suggest that they may signify a mental, spiritual purity, singularity of purpose and the absence of phonemes in the mind.

One of the scary things about Japan and the West is that each seems to hate they others signs/symbols. Derrida goes on about how much writing and visual signs are derided (he puns on his name I believe) in the West. I often get the feeling that a lot of the purification ritual in Shinto is aimed at a silence of mind. And Zen Buddhism is quite explicit about it: out out damn language.


And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads.

Not only does Brian Mc. Veigh (Wearing Ideology: state schooling and self-presentation in Japan, insert top left) have a lot of interesting things to say about uniforms, cuteness, and fashion in Japan, he goes further; he explains how these things can have meaning in and of themselves.

Using a “dramaturgical analysis” originating in Goffman ("The presentation of self in everyday life") McVeigh describes how selves can be constructed on stage, and consisting in and bounded by their presentations. If the self can be constructed on stage, then there is no need of a third term, the actor that with a narrative to grind. Meaning can be brought out onto the stage and be worn. This is wearing ideology.

Roland Barthes and Joy Hendry point out how visual signs and visual exteriors are important in Japan. But both expect there to be something else, a center, a something that is wrapped.

Barthes has already explained in "Mythologies" (inset bottom centre) how visual signs (magazine photos particularly) have the structure of an 'alibi'. "I was not there, I was somewhere else." Barthes does not believe in Mythology. Alibi's and signs, Barthes says, point off, salute a meaning somewhere else.

Then Barthes came to Japan and found that there are lots of signs, but they seem to point nowhere. For example, used to beautiful tasty French food, where the look indicates a different spicy flavour Barthes found Sushi in all its significant visual splendour, and all tasting the same, of wasabi and thick soy sauce. He found an empty space in the center of Tokyo signifying the massive power of an emperor, who does not rule. Japanese signs, Bathes says, have an empty center.

Likewise, Joy Hendry (in "Wrapping Culture" inset top right) points out the Japanese attraction for wrapping. But almost nowhere, except in her discussion of Barthes and towels given as gifts does she examine the possibility that Japanese "wrapping" is not exactly wrapping at all. The surface is not there to contain anything. The towels and the wrapping are consummatory. While the wrapping looks like a vector, or medium, it has meaning. The "wrapping" is the real Mcluhan.

Both Hendry and Barthes do not have a theory for explaining how symbols and surfaces can also be centers and selves. Brian Mc.Veigh however, using the self-on the stage tradition (of Goffman), proposes a mechanism for how the self, and meaning, can be constructed, consist and be bounded by presentation. Wearing is not an alibi for ideology somewhere off stage, but rather ideology is worn, and the visual is meaningful.

In his other great book, "Higher Education as Myth," Mc. Veigh weighs in against the lack of the logos in Japan. So I am not sure how much his revisionism in "Wearing Ideology" is intended. In any event this is the only book of Japanology that I can think of that seriously attempts to bring the center back on stage; the only book watching a mime show that presents a theory of mime, rather than harp on about the lack of a script.

Having said that, the book is not an easy read and feels a bit like a graduation thesis wherein the theory has been added because theses need theory, rather than that the author believes what he is writing. So perhaps, Mc. Veigh is an accidental apologist, a reluctant revisionist of the theory of Japan. Either way, his books are essential Japanology!

Finally, I don’t think that Mc.Veigh, or Goffman, go far enough. They still use the metaphor of a stage with its implied audience, and heteronomy. Actors live on stage, performig for the sake of others off stage, rather than for each other and themselves. As James Mead (Mind Self and Society) argues, actors can can only make visual gestures meaningful for themselves is if they see the faces of their audience or stand in front of a mirror. In my view, the actors in Japan carry their audience, or a mirror with them. The Japanese are wearing ideology, because they have mirrors in their heads.

A review of three of the best books about Japan
Joy Hendry "Wrapping Culture"
Roland Barthes "The Empire of the Signs"
Brian Mc.Veigh "Wearing Ideology"
written on the occasion of giving a lecture on Japanese fashion.