by Robert Moorehead

As the days grow warmer and brighter, and the chill of winter starts to fade, we’ve gradually started removing the winter wrappings from our house.

Winter wrappings? Yes, in Japan, we survive cold winters not by wrapping our houses in insulation, but by using plastic gimmicks to try to keep out the cold. For example, we cover our windows in bubble wrap and hang thin plastic shower curtains (here, they’re cleverly relabeled as insulating sheets) under the curtains. We also put absorbent tape at the bottom of the windows to absorb the sheets of water that build up on the windows. (As a side note, my cats like the water, as they can sit in the window sill and lick the glass when they’re thirsty.)

But why don’t Japanese homes use insulation? Ah, there’s the rub. In the attic of our 21-year-old house, there’s nary a fiber of fiberglass insulation. But why not? Isn’t Japan trying to reduce its electricity consumption? Doesn’t letting all the heat escape from the house go against the mantra of “mottainai” (a Japanese phrase expressing regret at wastefulness)? Yes, and of course. So … how do Japanese explain this seeming incongruity?

During one of my many winter rants, which usually occurred after I found it was warmer outside my house than inside or after I received a utility bill, I asked this question to whomever would listen. The responses intrigued this sociologist, and ranged from cultural explanations (Japanese like cold houses), to appeals to tradition (Japanese traditionally have lived simply, including having cold houses), to vague religious connections (it’s originally Shinto, I think), to dismissive self-flagellation (yes, Japan is so stupid, I really wish it would change). Feel free to mix and match these explanations, as they’re not mutually exclusive. I also heard that Kyoto is simply colder than anywhere else, even places where the temperature is much lower. And, there’s always the unspoken thought that this whining gaijin should stop complaining. (That may be the most on-target one of all.)

None of these explanations satisfied me. If the Japanese like cold houses so much, then why are their offices so hot? And why are the electronics stores overflowing with a mind-numbing array of gadgets to heat your home? Electric blankets for your bed and for your lap, electric carpets, electric tables, electric toilet seats, kerosene heaters, natural gas heaters, electric heaters, radiant heaters. This doesn’t include the hand warmers, long underwear, gloves, scarves, hats, mittens, jackets, and sweaters. But Japanese like being cold?

Another chicken-and-the-egg explanation is that Japanese don’t want to buy insulation, and thus stores don’t stock it. But if you wanted to buy it, you can’t, because the stores don’t stock it. My head is spinning … And let’s not forget the complaint that US-style central heating is incredibly wasteful. Mottainai! This contrast leaves us choosing between heating rooms we’re not using, and freezing in rooms we are using. Are these really the only choices? Isn’t there something in the middle? If you want to only heat a few rooms, that’s great. But wouldn’t insulating those same rooms keep them warmer at a lower cost?

These explanations reminded me of Mirror of Modernity: Invented Traditions of Modern Japan, which deconstructs numerous cultural explanations of life in Japan and replaces them with structural and historical analyses. When we do this, we often find that the traditions we think are real, are often recent constructions. So why are Japanese houses so cold? My guess is that they’re cheaper to build that way, and that government regulations are probably set to discourage the construction of warmer houses. Why? Because the system’s rigged to the benefit of some and not of others. Consumer choice is an illusion. I’m sorry if that’s not as romantic as the image of a snowy Japanese night, with a woman in kimono snuggled under a kotatsu (heated table), in a room so cold she can see her breath. But, as Marx said, money talks.

If Japan is serious about reducing its energy consumption, then it will encourage people to insulate their homes, such as through tax incentives or rebates. A $500 investment per home in fiberglass insulation would pay for itself in energy savings very quickly. Insulated homes are cheaper to heat and cool. This isn’t rocket science, or even something harder, like sociology.

For now, I’m happy to no longer see my breath inside my own house. The shower curtains have come out of the windows, and soon the bubble wrap will also come down. And soon after that we’ll be cursing the summer heat and humidity, and feeling like winter’s cold stretch was a lie, that the torture of summer in Japan will never end. And then we’ll be cold again.

Review at dissertationreviews.org

by Robert Moorehead

Michael Orlando Sharpe, of CUNY’s York College, has graciously posted a review of my dissertation on dissertationreviews.org. Dissertation Reviews is a great site that offers reviews of recently defended, unpublished dissertations. Currently, the site focuses on dissertations related to Asia, particularly China, Japan, and Korea.

The reviews cover the main insights offered by the dissertations, the intellectual grounding of the authors’ arguments, and prospects for future development of the projects. In addition, the reviewers offer private feedback for the authors.

Getting the word out about our work is challenging, and this site enables us to spread the word and make contact with other scholars who do similar work. If you recently filed your dissertation or are close to filing, this site can be a helpful tool in informing others of your work. And be sure to return the favor and sign up as a reviewer.

by Robert Moorehead

In today’s news of the obvious, a white paper released by the Ministry of Justice states that employment is the key to prevent youth offenders from repeating their crimes. In response, the world says “Duh.”

Since Japan’s economic decline in the 1990s, young Japanese men have struggled to find full-time, relatively permanent work. To reduce employment costs, Japanese companies have protected older workers, at the expense of younger workers. For an insightful analysis, see Mary C. Brinton’s Lost in Transition: Youth, Work, and Instability in Postindustrial Japan.

“Young people discharged from reformatories feel a sense of relief in being accepted by society when given employment and a place to stay,” says Mitsuyuki Iijima, president of a trucking company in Tokyo and volunteer probation officer.

Then again, don’t most people feel a sense of relief when they’re given a job and a place to stay? Which would give you more relief, no job and no place to stay, or a job and a place to stay? Who’s more likely to commit crime, someone with a job (and thus something to protect) or someone who’s unemployed (and thus has little or nothing to lose)?

“It is a highly important task for us to extend a helping hand to them in securing employment, along with helping improve the ability of families to supervise and support them,” he added. Reformatories encourage families of inmates to meet them as frequently as possible to ensure a positive living environment awaits them after their release from the facilities. Having strong family ties is essential to preventing recidivism, the white paper stressed.

So a positive living environment can discourage criminality. Again … duh. However, the news article plays a bit loose with the statistics. (Let’s assume that the original report is more rigorous in its statistical analyses.) The strength of family ties are measured by the number of times your family visits you while you’re in jail.

96 percent of the men said that their families had visited them twice or more, and only four percent (27 out of 644 people) said their families had visited them only once or not at all. Four percent! Those whose parents visited them only once or not at all had a recidivism rate 11 points higher, but now we’re only talking about two percent of the total group (15 out of 644 re-offended). Am I missing something? 15 men re-offended, whereas we’d expect only 12 to do so. So the difference is only three people? 644 young men are in jail, and researchers’ analysis explains the behavior of only three of them?

It’s also worth noting that the article does not specifically state that it’s referring only to men, but … it is. If the white paper were referring to the criminality of young women, it would specifically say so, as would the newspaper article. However, men’s gender is understood here. It’s the default, accepted category. So we can write an article about men’s criminality while referring to people in general, but an article about women’s criminality would refer only to women.

The decline of employment opportunities for Japan’s young men likely foretells greater propensity to crime. For those who don’t go on to college, high schools used to link students to full-time employment after graduation. Now, those links have largely been severed. More students are thus continuing their education into 2-year or 4-year colleges or vocational schools, but without improved employment prospects when they graduate, is staying in school just delaying the inevitable? Jobs that used to be attainable with a high school diploma now go to college graduates, further marginalizing those who don’t go to college.

One question unanswered in these studies is what happens to minority youth in Japan. Groups such as the Burakumin and Zainichi Koreans have historically been outside the mainstream employment market, which guides youth to work for large corporate employers. Joining these groups are second-generation South American Nikkei, who are now coming of age in Japan. If mainstream Japanese are struggling to find jobs with major employers, what effect is that having on minority candidates who are already on the margins?

Link: “Employment called the key to reducing recidivism among young offenders.” The Yomiuri Shimbun, Nov. 13, 2011.

Image from the samurai action film “Hisshiken Torisashi”

by Robert Moorehead

According to Kyodo News, officials from Kyoto city and prefecture visited TV network offices to urge them to continue to broadcast samurai TV dramas. Why? Could it be because the dramas are often filmed in Kyoto, at the city’s film studios and the city doesn’t want to lose the jobs?

While that would seem like a reasonable concern, Kyoto officials packaged their concerns in terms of spreading “Japanese culture” around the world. The TV programs are “extremely effective” in teaching Japanese culture, according to the officials. But what version of Japanese culture are the TV shows teaching? The last time I walked outside my home in Kyoto, I didn’t see any samurai walking down the street. Why the insistence on depicting an image of Japan that’s trapped in the era of samurai?

“Constant production is indispensable,” according to Kyoto governor Yamada and mayor Kadokawa, to preserve and pass on the knowledge of staff and artisans. Whether enough people actually watch the shows is apparently less important than keeping people employed in the time-honored, traditional practice of … making a television show. I would like to add that my family also requires “constant production,” that is, “constant employment” to preserve and pass on knowledge, to pay time-honored bills, and to continue the cultural practice of putting food on the table and a roof over our heads. So where’s my TV show?

How about new shows, like a drama about working in the accounting department at Olympus, where fudging the numbers, hiding losses, and padding wallets has been taken to a new level? You could even make one of the accountants dress like a samurai.

Or a show that combines samurai with cosplay?  In which a samurai travels through time to find himself winning a costume competition at Comicon.

Or the samurai get new neighbors from Brazil, and all sorts of wacky adventures ensue? The samurai could drown his sorrows by talking to a hostess from the Philippines at his favorite sunakku.

Or combine shows to make “My Samurai is a Foreigner” (Samurai wa gaikokujin), in which the lovable, romantic Tony Lazlo not only loves kanji but also is a samurai.

Or “My Wife Is a Foreign Samurai” (Okusama wa Gaikokujin Samurai), combining the Japanese pastimes of watching samurai dramas and gawking at foreigners.

Or last, but not least, a brave samurai attacks the radioactive fallout at Fukushima Dai-ichi, repairs the reactors, and then unleashes his wrath on TEPCO. Now that’s a show I’d watch.