Op-Ed Columnist

The Japanese Could Teach Us a Thing or Two

Published: March 19, 2011

Damon Winter/The New York Times

Nicholas D. Kristof

Related

• Times Topic: Japan — Earthquake, Tsunami and Nuclear Crisis (2011)

So maybe we can learn something from Japan, where the earthquake,tsunami and radiation leaks haven’t caused society to come apart at theseams but to be knit together more tightly than ever. The selflessness,stoicism and discipline in Japan these days are epitomized by thoseworkers at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant, uncomplainingly andanonymously risking dangerous doses of radiation as they struggle toprevent a complete meltdown that would endanger their fellow citizens.

The most famous statue in Japan is arguably one of a dog, Hachiko, whoexemplified loyalty, perseverance and duty. Hachiko met his owner at thetrain station when he returned from work each day, but the owner diedat work one day in 1925 and never returned. Until he died about 10 yearslater, Hachiko faithfully went to the station each afternoon just incase his master returned.

I hope that some day Japan will erect another symbol of loyalty anddedication to duty: a statue of those nuclear plant workers.

I lived in Japan for five years as the Tokyo bureau chief for The NewYork Times, and I was sometimes perceived as hostile to the countrybecause I was often critical of the Japanese government’s incompetenceand duplicity. But the truth is that I came to cherish Japan’s civilityand selflessness. There’s a kind of national honor code, exemplified bythe way even cheap restaurants will lend you an umbrella if you’recaught in a downpour; you’re simply expected to return it in a day ortwo. If you lose your wallet in the subway, you expect to get it back.

The earthquake has put that dichotomy on display. The Japanesegovernment has been hapless. And the Japanese people have beenmagnificent, enduring impossible hardships with dignity and grace.

As I recalled recently on my blog, I covered the 1995 Kobe earthquakethat killed more than 6,000 people, and I looked everywhere for anexample of people looting merchandise from one of the many shops withshattered windows. I did find a homeowner who was missing two bicycles,but as I did more reporting, it seemed as if they might have been takenfor rescue efforts.

Finally, I came across a minimart owner who had seen three young mengrab food from his shop and run away. I asked the shop owner if he wassurprised that his fellow Japanese would stoop so low.

“No, you misunderstand,” the shop owner told me. “These looters weren’t Japanese. They were foreigners.”

Granted, Japan’s ethic of uncomplaining perseverance — gaman, inJapanese — may also explain why the country settles for third-rateleaders. Moreover, Japan’s tight-knit social fabric can lead todiscrimination against those who don’t fit in. Bullying is a problemfrom elementary school to the corporate suite. Ethnic Koreans and anunderclass known as burakumin are stigmatized. Indeed, after theterrible 1923 earthquake, Japanese rampaged against ethnic Koreans (whowere accused of setting fires or even somehow causing the quake) andslaughtered an estimated 6,000 of them.

So Japan’s communitarianism has its downside, but we Americans couldusefully move a step or two in that direction. Gaps between rich andpoor are more modest in Japan, and Japan’s corporate tycoons would beembarrassed by the flamboyant pay packages that are common in America.Even in poor areas — including ethnic Korean or burakumin neighborhoods —schools are excellent.

My wife and I saw the collective ethos drummed into children when wesent our kids to Japanese schools. When the teacher was sick, there wasno substitute teacher. The children were in charge. When our son Gregorycame home from a school athletic meet, we were impressed that he hadwon first place in all his events, until we realized that every childhad won first place.

For Gregory’s birthday, we invited his classmates over and taught themto play musical chairs. Disaster! The children, especially the girls,were traumatized by having to push aside others to gain a seat forthemselves. What unfolded may have been the most polite, mostapologetic, and least competitive game of musical chairs in the historyof the world.

Look, we’re pushy Americans. We sometimes treat life, and budgetnegotiations, as a contest in which the weakest (such as children) areto be gleefully pushed aside when the music stops. But I wish we mightlearn a bit from the Japanese who right now are selflessly subsumingtheir own interests for the common good. We should sympathize withJapanese, yes, but we can also learn from them.

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I’ve chosen the finalists for my annual “win-a-trip” contest. This yearI’m taking a college student and a senior citizen on a reporting trip tothe developing world. Help me choose the winners by visiting my blog, nytimes.com/ontheground, or my Facebook page, facebook.com/Kristof. 

A version of this op-ed appeared in print on March 20, 2011, on page WK11 of the New York edition.