There’s little doubt that Japan ascended to dizzying heights in the late 1980s, during the infamous “bubble years.” But there’s plenty of debate about how far the country has tumbled since. In “Dogs and Demons: Tales from the Dark Side of Japan” (432 pages. Hill and Wang), Alex Kerr, a longtime resident, argues that Japan’s current problems are rooted in deeply misguided policies that have already wreaked far more havoc than generally recognized–either in Japan or abroad. His key conclusion will certainly offend many Japanese. “Radical change will come only when conditions have grown completely intolerable–and in Japan’s case that day may never come,” he writes. In other words, the only hope for Japan would be a total calamity–and since that’s unlikely to happen, the country is indefinitely doomed to its current anemic state.
Kerr argues that Japan is stuck in a “developing country” mind-set, which produces far more than misguided economic policies. “Japan is essentially a postindustrial state with pre-industrial goals,” he writes. Hence, it’s considered progress when trees (with their “messy” leaves) disappear; when the country lays down 30 times more concrete per square foot than the United States does; when virtually all the rivers are dammed and the seacoast is lined with concrete tetrapods; when Kyoto’s beautiful old city is dismantled and replaced by monstrosities like the New Kyoto Station. Kerr lays out a case, in convincing detail, that the politicians, bureaucrats and businessmen have all profited from a cozy, deeply corrupt system based on pave-and-build policies. The result is a trail of destruction–of the environment, ancient cities and the soul of a once proud culture.
Kerr, a writer and teacher who has lived in Japan for more than 35 years, finds fault with almost every aspect of today’s Japan. The educational system is rigid and uninspiring; teaching obedience to authority is its highest goal. No wonder students are anxious and increasingly prone to bullying and attacking each other in school. The press colludes with the authorities to cover up unpleasant truths. Foreigners and foreign ideas are widely distrusted and disparaged. “No matter how much lip service is paid to internationalization, the country’s basic policies have been to keep Japan closed,” Kerr writes.
All are valid points, but “Dogs and Demons” seems a little too alarmist. It isn’t until the end of the book that Kerr acknowledges Japan’s continuing strengths, and he does so almost always in a backhanded manner. In discussing Japan’s postwar status as “Number One” in Asia, he writes: “Now, although its economy is still larger than all the other Asian nations combined (including China), the balance is rapidly shiftng…” Well, critics can reasonably ask, why has Kerr painted such a dire portrait of Japan if the country is still relatively prosperous (viz., its whopping balance-of-payments surplus) and its people still maintain a comfortable standard of living?
Kerr’s implicit assertion is that Japan could be doing so much better than it is. Even as he chronicles the failures and boondoggles that so outrage him, he notes a few encouraging trends–particularly the growing popular pressure for change. “There is a strong and vocal body of opinion within Japan that recognizes its troubles, and is increasingly prepared to fight for change,” he writes. “In this lies great hope.” Presumably, he’d concede that the recent election of Junichiro Koizumi represents the collective yearning for reform, whether or not the new prime minister succeeds in meeting expectations.
Much of this book is provocative, and deliberately so. Kerr can be overly strident, and his suggestion that only an outright collapse will spark a major systemic overhaul smacks more of revolutionary theatrics than solid analysis. But “Dogs and Demons” is a product of tough love. Instead of simply dismissing the book as a condemnation of their society, as many will, Japanese readers might do well to examine its many valid criticisms and take them as a powerful exhortation to chart a new course. Not to please Kerr and other foreign critics, of course, but to please themselves.
