6 July 2001 (15 Tamuz 5761)
Japan probably boasts the most advanced technology of manufacturing robots in the world, and some of the most sophisticated robots seem to be becoming more and more human-like. What make them human-like in the eyes of the majority of people are the expression of emotions, independent thinking, flexibility and spontaneity, among others. It is therefore ironical - or even tragicomical - that in this very country people are becoming more and more robot-like with less expression of emotions, less independent thinking, less flexibility and less spontaneity. Are robot-like humans are the ultimate form of human-like robots?
Traditionally, Japanese culture has never evaluated the outward expression of emotions, whether verbally or nonverbally, so compared with those from other cultures, people in Japan have been known to have less facial expressions. I am afraid that even what few facial expressions that still remain are disappearing from the faces of many people, especially the young. I have no convincing explanation for this phenomenon; social pressures may be becoming more efficient in making people censure their behaviors and paralyzing their facial muscles. Anyway, it really scares me to see the whole class - especially in the first few lessons of each new academic year - without anyone who shows any sign of the movement of facial muscles to anything I say.
In parallel with the less expression of emotions, people, at least students, seem to think less and less independently. I would like to hope that my impression is not correct, but the impression I have on the basis of my observation of my students is that year by year they are becoming more and more regularized, and less and less original in their thinking. When I ask them to write their opinions about some personal or social issue, more and more students write the same, easily predictable "opinion" influenced and dictated by the mass media, and accepted uncritically and unconsciously. There are less and less students who express something originally their own and unpredictable. If this impression of mine should turn out to reflect the society at large, this is an alarming sign as it means that people can be easily manipulated and agitated.
No one would be able to compete in his or her robotness with those who work in the service industry, especially places that are making as large a profit with as homogenous things to as many customers as possible. Workers in these places are dictated what and when to say what, even when to smile, in such minute details that there is no room for flexibility and spontaneity. If the number of these workers, especially those in their adolescence, is considered, their influence upon the whole society must be devastating. What they are dictated to say and do seems to answer more than 99% of the needs of their customers. From time to time I order or ask them something or a combination of something which is not written in their book of regulations, thus unpredictable, in order to see the degree of flexibility and spontaneity that hopefully still remain. In most cases their lack of flexibility and spontaneity is phenomenal, but this may be no laughing matter.
I simply do not know if there is anything we can do to stop this trend at the national level. I for one am continuing to say in class what my students cannot predict in the forms of humor and questions as a personal attempt to stimulate them both emotionally and intellectually and prevent them from becoming totally robot-like.
13 July 2001 (22 Tamuz 5761)
I can probably say that it was not until I returned to Japan at the age of thirty after staying five years in Israel that I experienced the sense of failure or crisis for the first time in my life. Since then I have been struggling to find out the reasons why I cannot readjust myself back in Japanese society. This has enabled me to observe the country in which I happened to be born more objectively as a bystander and locate a number of sociocultural problems here.
This process of observation and self-contemplation has also taught me that it is irresponsible just to sit still and criticize; each citizen should have the responsibility to do what he or she can do to make the society a better place in exchange for the right he or she is enjoying. You may think that I am just criticizing Japanese society here, but it is far from the truth. As I continued struggling with my maladjustment to Japanese society, I came to be able to afford to think about the society as well, and asked myself what I could do to make it a better place. The provisional answer I have found is that I would probably be able to contribute to the society best through teaching.
In a sense this has become a purpose in itself for me, and I enormously enjoy the feeling I can influence other people according to what I believe is right. I know that my way of teaching is quite different from the conventional one prevalent in Japan as I emphasize uncensored direct interaction between the teacher and the students. I also know that some students do not like my way, but I felt rewarded when I heard direct and indirect compliments about my teaching recently.
On the other hand, however, I am well aware that what I am trying to do through my teaching is just a tiny drop in the ocean. I can also hear a pessimistic whisper inside myself that I may be wasting my time in Japan as it will not change at least in my life time. I have been thinking of leaving Japan for good, and Israel is the only possibility I can think of so far. Yes, Israel also has a number of problems, and I am not depicting it as a rosy garden, but I can at least feel like a fish in the water there linguistically and socioculturally. If I should decide to emigrate there, I also have to find an occupation which I know can contribute to Israeli society. Unfortunately, I have not found it yet, and that is one of the things that still deter me from making a fatal decision.
20 July 2001 (29 Tamuz 5761)
I am supposed to concentrate on the preparation of two papers to read in Jerusalem in the middle of August. Actually I even stopped drinking my favorite beer temporarily for this purpose. But there is an unexpected problem that often prevents me from concentrating on the papers. I am not always successful in resisting the temptation of reading books about Japanese politics, which has suddenly become interesting after Mr. Koizumi was elected the prime minister; for the first time I can feel some hope for change in Japan.
What interests me most now in Japanese politics is the controversy over the junior high school textbooks of Japanese history though I never liked this subject throughout my school days. The textbook published by Fusosha has been reported to be "biased" and "chauvinistic" in the mass media, and aroused fierce oppositions both inside Japan by various "peace groups" and by neighboring countries such as South Korea and China and their citizens.
My natural question was whether all these critics have ever read the textbook in question. Even if it has proved to be "biased" and "chauvinistic" as they claim, they should first read it and judge by themselves without following blindly what their leaders try to make them believe; to fail to do so is nothing but intellectual laziness and dishonesty. So I decided to read this controversial textbook by myself. I also saw to it that I read all the secondary books both for and against it. Although I may be naive and unfamiliar with the details of Japanese history, my honest impression after reading through this textbook was why they make such a fuss about it, opposing it so fiercely.
I used to subscribe exclusively to Asahi, the self-proclaimed "quality paper" in Japanese, without reading it and its hidden messages so critically. But since some time ago I have started to feel something fishy in this newspaper, especially its editorials, which are so naive. So for the sake of comparing how the controversy over history textbooks is reported I have started to read Sankei as well, which I find more appealing than any other Japanese paper as it does not hesitate to express its own opinions clearly however controversial they may be. I have also been reading books analyzing the Japanese media. This has shown me that though quite tendentious, Asahi has been quite influential and successful in brainwashing naive people who read no other paper and have a blind faith in it with the illusion that it is the nontendentious quality paper for intellectuals; it seems even dangerous to rely only on this paper which subtly camouflages its tendentiousness with the flavor of "culture".
The important lesson I have learned from all this is that it is important to always check the primary source first-hand without prejudice and take heed not only to what is agreeable but also to what is not.
27 July 2001 (7 Av 5761)
I started teaching English as well as Japanese as a foreign language and Hebrew at two universities in Japan in the spring of 1994 after I came back from Israel. As I became more experienced in teaching, I came to realize that the true reason why Japanese students cannot express themselves in English, whether orally or in writing, is not so much the fact that they are not taught to use English as a means of communication as the fact that they are not trained to think independently even in Japanese. So I have shifted the emphasis of my English courses from the mere impartation of language skills to the encouragement of developing their own opinions in as communicative a setting as possible. Actually this is not related directly to English per se but is something that must be taught in the elementary and secondary levels of education.
This week I had the term examinations of my four English courses, and asked the students to write about their future plans, among others. I was quite shocked to read what they wrote, and suddenly realized that there is an even more fundamental problem than the fact that many of them are not trained to think independently. The Japanese educational system after the Second World War has simply failed to teach the most fundamental thing: how to live. Many of the students, at least mine, seem to be leading a rather haphazard way of life.
Life may be compared to a voyage in the ocean. Like every long voyage one needs to have not only the destination but also a compass and a chart to navigate the ocean. Life must be the most challenging ocean, and no brilliant imagination would be required to foresee that navigating it with no destination, compass and chart is doomed to wreckage. Regrettably, what is happening now in Japan is that students are supplied with no compass and chart, are plunged into water, and are forced to navigate with all kinds of illusionary destinations. It is no wonder that many of these voyages in the ocean of life end up in failure, often causing damage not only to themselves but also to others.
Although it was true that Japan made grave mistakes before and during the Second World War, it must have been too extreme to deny all the prewar spiritual legacies including the positive ones and try to start a new page in a spiritual void, whatever the rationale for this may be. I would like to hope that it is not too late to remedy the present situation and save Japan, but otherwise it might really sink with the majority of its citizens drifting in the ocean of life with no specific destinations.