Japan at a crossroads.

Japan is at a crossroads. As the nation embraces itself in the run-up to the general election to be held on 16^th December, the future of the nation is hanging on a very delicate and potentially volatile balance. So much is at stake.

As this essay is not about naming and finger-pointing, here I do without any specific mentions of the political parties. I am writing thus not in fear of offending somebody, or in the hope of affecting the results of the election in my own trivial and negligible ways. I am choosing this particular style in the recognition that anyone could alter his or her system of thoughts, so that naming is not really necessary or appropriate.

It is understandable that Japanese politics is leaning towards the conservative at the moment. A psychological mechanism called “mortality salience” suggests that when people become aware of life-threatening situations, circumstances suggesting their own mortalities, they tend to protect themselves with conservative values. Immediately after the September 11^th attacks, for example, the support for the Bush administration, which preached conservative policies, jumped up. How it affected the results of the presidential election in 2012 is now history.

It is understandable that, in the wake of the Great East Japan Earthquake and tsunami, and the incident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant last year, the Japanese people are finding conservative values attractive. The political parties projected to win the General Election tend to put forward conservative and nationalist policies, including the revision of the progressive Constitution of Japan enacted after the defeat in Second World War. 

To recognize and appreciate one’s unique historic and cultural heritage cannot be a bad thing. It is also practical, from time to time, to realize that people’s behavior cannot be changed overnight. Conservatism, at its best, recognizes that it is not possible to change the nature of people overnight, as progressive arguments sometimes seem to suggest.

That some Japanese politicians are stressing the merits of traditional Japanese values is both understandable and appreciable. In a time of recognized national crisis such as this, it is only human nature to emphasize Japanese values, both real and imagined, against those of the neighbors, such as Korea and China. The real question is, however, whether it is wise to do so, especially to the degree that ethnic and cultural diversity is threatened.

We live in a globalized world. Connecting beyond and overcoming national borders is the name of the game. The equation for prosperity has changed. The internet has literally redrawn the map of human activities on the surface of the earth. The search for talents has also become global. It makes sense to be lenient to ethnic diversity, not only in human rights perspectives but also from economic points of view. A Syrian student fathered Steve Jobs. Sergey Brin was born in Russia. Taiwanese entrepreneurs were involved in the founding of Yahoo and youtube.

In this age of small world networks, no nation succeeds by preaching nationalistic values. The great paradox is that a nation thrives to the degree it is able to refrain from nationalistic sentiments and open its doors to the diversity of world at large.

It is certainly true that Japan has had its share of entrepreneurs of ethnic minorities. Mr. Masayoshi Son of Softbank is one of the most luminous examples. The most remarkable thing, however, is not how Mr. Son managed to overachieve. The real question is why there aren’t more cases like Mr. Son.

Japan has come to a crossroads. One road leads to more openness, embracement of the cultural and ethnic diversity, and economic prosperity. I don’t think the other road is worth mentioning here. I for one believe that Japan would never take that road. 

Visitor: A butterfly lover’s philosophy of life.

As a boy I used to chase butterflies, in the field, and among the woods. My childhood time was literally divided between reading books in the room and searching for the airborne insects in the wild. After some period of field training, I learned all of the butterfly species by heart, so that I could identify which species the moment I saw one flying. Looking back, I think it was a marvelous manifestation of the brain’s ability to apply pattern recognition. What a pity it does not have any practical value in today’s world!

Sometimes, I could not tell what I was looking at, as the butterfly would appear strange and exotic. At such a time, my heart would suddenly throb violently. It could be a new species yet to be discovered by human kind (to discover one was the wildest dream of a boy like myself). The reality was not that exciting, as we all regret to learn. Most of the time, it was just the shades and backgrounds that made the butterfly appear to be different. After a more careful observation, it would turn out to be quite a common species.

From time to time, which was equally exciting, the butterfly would turn out to be a “visitor”. A species not normally resident, but was blown into the area by strong wind, especially after the passage of a typhoon. In other cases, when the butterfly had a strong ability to fly, it could wander on its own into the forest where I was chasing butterflies.

Since I spent so much time chasing butterflies, I think part of my philosophy of life has been formed by interactions with these elegant creatures. In my life, I sometimes catch myself waiting for “visitors”. Some person, event, or phenomenon, that would enter my world only rarely. It is such a pity that visitors do not come so often. But when one does come, it infuses my life with a strange sense of joy and expectancy. It makes me want to run off and venture into an unknown, enchanted kingdom.

I would vote for Obama.

I am not an American citizen. If I were one, I would vote for Mr. Obama.

In my view, the race between Mr. Obama and Mr. Romney is one between sharing vs. competition, collaboration vs. acrimony.

The idea that economic growth can be brought about through competition in the free market is a fantasy at best. In fact, people need to be in possession of certain knowledge and skills in order to be a functioning competitor. At a time when the disparity of household income directly translates into the educational opportunities for the kids, the gospel that Mr. Romney preaches is not only a logical fallacy but also a factually misleading propaganda.

The idea that prosperity can be brought about through competition is also false. Prosperity is based on collaboration, with each individual bringing onto the table his or her unique capabilities, without sticking a price tag to the contribution.

Mr. Romney’s speech divides and alienates people. Now is the time to take a hard look at the real conditions in which human beings make their efforts. Mr. Obama is not saying that we can be lazy and the let the state take care of us. He is just saying that in order to make a serious effort, we need to collaborate in a spirit of mutual helpfulness and respect. That is only a common sense. 

Something even a five year old kid knows, before the young mind is polluted by the false ideology of the free market.

The ideology of socialism is long gone. Now is the time for the simplistic belief in the free market to be gone. Electing Mr. 

Obama for President would be symbolic of the times when we are coming to grips with the realities of how human societies are organized and work, at long last.

Growing out of beers.

This summer, a strange phenomenon is happening to me. I seem to be growing out of beers.

Ever since I started enjoying alcohol at the legal age of 20 (well, my memory is actually rather fuzzy there), I liked beer the best, especially as a starter. On a summer evening, ordering a pint of beer has been the thing to do. It is a collective 

phenomenon. Actually, in Japanese, there is a special expression for the endorsement of beer as the first drink of the evening (Ask any Japanese people around).

Then it started to weigh in. I noticed the small gradual changes within me when it was too late. I find myself ordering other drinks (what a sacrilege!) at the beginning of supper with colleagues and friends. Beer is not the first choice any more.

I ponder why this change is happening. It is personally so interesting and at the same time rather unnerving. Am I losing something, perhaps the famous “mojo” (Austin Powers)?

I am watching my thirst and drive carefully as we Tokyo residents start to prepare ourselves for the inevitable chills of autumn. 

Reading for pleasure.

Last evening, I was giving a public lecture jointly with my best friend Ryo Hatoh at the Academy Hills in Tokyo. In the aftermath, we were doing the small talks, when Ryo casually mentioned how he used to love reading the Lord of the Rings.

That gave me an idea. This morning, I visited Amazon and downloaded the kindle version of this famed trilogy.

Here’s a little bit of personal history. I read the Japanese translation of the Lord of the Rings when I was a junior high student. Then, at senior high, about 4 years after starting to learn English, I made the (then for me) daunting effort of reading the original version. I must confess it was hard at that time. But I enjoyed the trial even so.

I still remember how I waited eagerly the end of the exam period. Released from the burdens of cramming, I would walk carefree under the blue sky, get on the train, and start reading the Rings straight away.

I still remember the tremendous joy I felt going through the pages, and yet, there was also a sense of guilt. In an educational system where too much emphasis is put on paper exams, absorbing oneself in a fantasy novel seemed to be a silly idea, even if it improved my English capabilities in a general sense.  It was actually this sense of guilt that made the reading of the Rings such a thrilling adventure.

Seeing through the (with the benefit of hindsight) perverse perceptions, I can now understand how my learning should have been organized. My English education should have been exactly like the experience of reading the Rings, rather than filling my head with silly grammatical rules. Lord of the Rings was actually a much better English teacher than all the meaningless entrance exam preparations combined.

Now I am looking forward to my second read, after 30+ years. 30+ years. Gee. 

How I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb.

It used to be that I held my breath and was hurt by every negative comment that I encountered on the web. Well, not any more. I yawn when someone tweets something negative about me or something that I dearly care for. Their bombs have simply become duds. 

I have been an avid user of the net since its nascence. Those were the days when BBS and mailing lists were at the forefront of what were considered new and exciting. The misanthropes and bomb-droppers were those who would abruptly write something nasty, just to attract attention to themselves, or to make everybody around uncomfortable.

And those creatures often succeeded, much to our dismay. The well-meaning fellows would often intervene, which resulted, almost without a single exception, in an ever escalating calamity. For the bastards, the well-meaning comments and efforts of reconciliations were just fuels to boost their malicious ego trip. I have seen many BBS and mailing lists going to the dogs through such a process.

We should not forget what a great invention twitter has been. There, the malicious comments can be largely left to themselves. The stupid tweets physically exist, but not so much socially. There is a selection pressure, in which those who tweet for benefit and substance would attract more followers. Even if you want to have an ego trip on the twitter, chances are that you won’t be able to ride on a big wave. Only ripples from the like-minded would soak your feet.

So, that’s how I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb. The culture of mutually assured humiliation still exists on the web, but it does not really matter any more. We can now stop worrying about trivialities of human vice and start worrying about things of real importance.

Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove.

The reason for resilience.

Talk given by Ken Mogi at TED Long Beach on 29th February, 2012, 10 days before the 1st anniversary of the Great Eastern Japan Earthquake of 2011.

twitter: @kenmogi
e-mail: kenmogi@qualia-manifesto.com

On March 11th 2011, a massive earthquake hit Eastern Japan. About 30 minutes later, devastating waves of tsunami came ashore across the Tohoku area. It was a natural disaster of a scale unprecedented in the remembered history of Japan. Scientists later confirmed that it had been an event once in a thousand years. Then the nuclear power plant accident at Fukushima followed, casting shadows over people’s lives and hearts. It was a “black swan” event that even experts had failed to predict. The tsunami swept cars, houses, to the utter despair of those looking on in disbelief. Children cried, while their parents could do nothing but to comfort them. Tens of thousands of people lost their loved ones, their cherished homes, and their long-held ways of life.

In memory of the people who lost their lives in the earthquake and tsunami, I would like to dedicate here a moment of silence.

Almost immediately after the disaster, recovery efforts started. People around the world were impressed by the resilience of the Japanese people, who never forgot smiles on their faces, despite the incredible difficulties encountered in the wake of a disaster.

Here I would like to share with you a philosophy behind the resilience of Japanese people. Among Japanese fishermen, there is a saying that “under the board, there is hell.” Once the Mother Nature rages, there is nothing you can do about it. Despite the risks, a fisherman ventures off into the ocean, to do his best to make a living.

This old proverb is true for all of us. As the world becomes small, we are facing newly emerging oceans of contingencies. Just like the Japanese fishermen, we don’t give up. We proceed, with smiles on our faces. In fact, we can even say that risks and uncertainties are the mothers of hope and wisdom.

Here I have a flag, given to me by a fisherman in Kamaishi, who has been personally affected by the tsunami. In order to cheer us up, I swing here the Japanese fisherman’s flag. Under the board, there is hell. That’s why we all hope to build peace and prosperity on our humble boat, through our resilience and hard work. And that’s why we are all here today. Thank you very much.

St. Valentine’s day, the Japanese way.

The 14th of February is a day on which the hearts of many Japanese men throb, in (literally) sweet expectations of pleasures to come.

The day is recognized as the “St. Valentine’s day”, a day on which you express your love to your sweethearts. That bit is pretty much the same all around the world. What is unique in Japan is that it is mainly a girl that is expected to express her love, giving a box of chocolate to the boy held dear in heart. Often the presentation is a surprise one, coming from an unexpected admirer of the opposite sex. That’s why the boys’ hearts throb on this fateful day.

Conspiracy theories abound as to how the Japanese Valentine’s day has “degenerated” into a unidirectional offering of cacao based sweets. Some say that it was a campaign of the chocolate manufacturers which kick-started the now (in)famous tradition. Brainwashing aside, chocolate giving has taken hold most probably because it somehow resonated with the Japanese psyche.

Japanese girls seem to like the idea of giving a box of chocolate to the loved one, as it fits the image of sweet feminineness. Boys, on the receiving side, admire the tenderness and considerations expressed this way. It is thus the result of a cultural marriage between the Western tradition and Japanese conception of what is feminine that has made chocolate giving on Saint Valentine’s day such a runaway hit.

It is interesting how much and deeply one could delve into the traditions and cultures of a particular nation, by taking note of a seemingly trivial custom. One would be able to reveal many things about the Nation of Japan, just thinking about the chocolate giving on Saint Valentine’s day. This short essay is intended as just a starter. I would be able to deepen my thoughts better, with the help of a box of chocolate.

If I get one, that is.


A Japanese girl offering a box of self-made chocolate, from http://umasou.com/barentain/, a recipe site for Valentine’s day chocolates.

How a Japanese prime minister has become MHP.

When I was a kid, it used to be that the prime minister was considered the nation’s top job. A boy often had the aspiration to become one some day, pouring out in school essays how he would then change the nation. Quite apart from the obvious flaw of Japanese society that girls usually did not (and still do not) aspire to become politicians, the classic picture does not hold anymore. The times they are a-changin’.

The prime ministers come in and go through the now famous revolving door of Japanese politics. When a prime minister is elected and comes into the spotlight, he (sadly, in Japan, we don’t have yet to write “or she” here as a historical fact; same applies to U.S. presidency) enjoys the “honeymoon” with the Japanese populace for a very short time. That period is then followed by a series of humiliations, both public and private, fueled by the overjealous attention of the Japanese media whose main job these days are forcing politicians to step down. One government figure resigned, one mission accomplished.

Thus, a Japanese prime minister (“JPM”) has become the synonym for the “MHP” (Most Humiliated Person) of the nation. No wonder a boy doesn’t aspire to become a P.M. any more. Nobody wants to be humiliated, or deserves to be.

This thought is just in. A female prime minister might really change the situation for the better, as it is not such a decent job to humiliate a lady. Even the media bastards know that.



Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda. He has had his share of humiliation. I am personally sorry for him.