Blame insomnia. Or, perhaps it's the combination high-temperatures and humidity. I'm cranky. For my self-imposed Japanese lessons, my attempt to keep up with current events while adding to my vocabulary, I turn to my "trusted" news source: TV. The coverage of the news over the past several days is anything but happy. Grim, stupid, and disappointing, I struggle to keep from turning it off.
Pick a channel, any channel, the news being reported focuses on the death of Ms. Mika Yamashita, by all accounts an incredible, brave, and well respected journalist who was shot to death in Syria. Those around her are adamant in saying she was in Syria to cover the plight of women and children. I keep seeing myself in her. Not the whole "incredible, brave, well respected" part. I'm not that arrogant. That there are other women out there who do things few understand, following a drum beat perhaps only they can hear, that she will no longer do this, that some asshole took her life, I really can't describe the sadness and rage I feel. What a waste. What an incredibly stupid, stupid act of violence.
Then there are the politicians and those who feel entitlement in commenting on the acts (or lack thereof) of said politicians--here I'd like to make a suggestion.
The gist is, foreign policy in Japan is in shambles. It's in shambles because the prime minister and his cabinet are busy fending off those who want a new group in power (again), and because there have been four foreign ministers in three years. The ever-revolving door of politicians is tiresome. This, too, is stupid. I understand the consequences of what I'm saying. I stand by it. It's not rocket science. With new people at the top every year or so (sixteen prime ministers in 23 years) how can they possibly be effective?
Here's my suggestion. Stick it out, folks. People want your head? Say you won't go. No more "I take responsibility, and I'll resign." No. Show some umph. Show the country and the rest of the world you have the courage to fend off criticism. Fight. I mean it. Fight.
Because, and here's a biggie, mothers are taking their children to protest Japan's nuclear energy policy, standing outside the Prime Minister's residence in the heat. The Japanese are taking to the streets. There are real protests, perhaps unlike anything seen here since students made noise about the Viet Nam War right around the time I was born. These protests are a big deal. I've stayed away from the nuclear issue, especially as it pertains to Fukushima, as it's a highly emotional topic for both sides, pro-, and anti.
But, I will say this. After the Fukushima Plants went down last year everyone in Tokyo was bombarded with daily reminders to conserve energy. (Tokyo got its energy from these Fukushima Plants.) Trains cut their air conditioning, turned off lights, and used fans to circulate air. Not well, mind you. Department stores used giant fans. All we could get was sort of cool, very stale air. I can't think of anywhere I could go last summer to experience real air conditioning.
Not so this year. Some buildings are almost cold. Trains and subways are back blowing cold air, most welcome. Air conditioning is back. Which begs the question. Where is Tokyo getting its energy? Not Fukushima, of course. There's energy left to spare? Since when? Where's it coming from? Japan does or does not have an energy crisis?
Between the senseless murder of an otherwise incredible woman half way around the world, politicians who just don't get it, mothers who are teaching their children to speak up, and confusion over whether we get to or don't use this energy that may or may not exist--you can see why summer in Japan makes me a bit cranky. Let's see if fall changes anything.
Showing posts with label nuclear accidents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuclear accidents. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Friday, July 6, 2012
Perception, Fukushima, and Modern-day Seppuku
My first encounter with what I call "modern-day seppuku" was at age 12. Our sixth grade had three homerooms. Our teachers must have been in cahoots, testing us, telling us all specifically not to do something and wondering if we would obey. All three classes did exactly what we were told not to do. All three classes were caught. Busted.
An emergency meeting was held. The class presidents and vice-presidents were told to gather. From our homeroom, Panda, our class president, known for his bushy eyebrows and thick and long eyelashes, the smartest boy in the class, and I the vice-president attended. Asked what we were going to do about what our class did, Panda said, "I take responsibility. I will resign."
"No, stupid," and I really did call him that, "you're not going to resign." I then said to the three teachers, "We will stay on. We will fix this. We'll take responsibility, but we're not resigning."
I had no idea what I meant when I said Panda and I would "fix" this, but I thought falling on his sword, committing modern-day seppuku was the stupidest thing he could do. Why was he running away? You don't resign. You fix your mistakes. You stay and fight. Right?
I didn't know then Panda was doing exactly what was expected of him, Japanese-style. He was supposed to resign. As was I. Many years later, I understand why I was wrong back then, but I still stand by my statement. I don't agree with modern-day seppuku, based on ritual disembowlment, acts of complete loyalty to one's master and sacrificing life in the act of ultimate contrition. This is how Japan apologizes. This is how Japanese take responsibility.
Which is why there have been sixteen prime ministers in the past 23 years. Which is why heads of corporations, when caught in a scandal, hold a press conference, table at the front, and when the time comes, rise and bow their heads, camera shutters clicking away furiously. They apologize. They resign. It's done. This is modern-day seppuku.
I used to tell my employees I needed them to be really good at what they did. But, I needed their skills to be 70% of what they put out there, and the remaining 30% had to be what they projected about themselves. Long ago I learned you can be really good at what you do, but if you're not likable you won't get as much done as if you are nice and professional. Perception matters. It really matters. I will get so much more done playing nicely in the sandbox and operating at a high level than, say, someone who's a jerk but really good at what they do. Nice beats mean. It just does.
The perception over the Fukushima nuclear disaster is that there was a cover-up. People lied. TEPCO (Tokyo Electric Power Company, those who operate the nuclear plants) executives lied. Politicians lied. To what extent? About what? That will come out. Some investigative journalist somewhere will someday crack the story wide open, and heads will roll. Can anyone prove these lies? Can anyone prove there was no lying? Finding those answers is important, yes. The perception of lying, however, is the stain spreading all over Japan, its politicians, and those involved in the "cover-up" and this, this perception is what keeps people unconvinced, pessimistic, and distrustful. How did this happen? How did Japanese politicians and businessmen bungle this? Again?
Mr. Kiyoshi Kurokawa, Chairman of the Fukushima Nuclear Independent Investigative Commission has the answer. This is a quote from the introduction of the 646-page report submitted to the Japanese Diet by the Commission: "What must be admitted – very painfully – is that this was a disaster 'Made in Japan.' Its fundamental causes are to be found in the ingrained conventions of Japanese culture: our reflexive obedience; our reluctance to question authority; our devotion to ‘sticking with the program’; our groupism; and our insularity. Had other Japanese been in the shoes of those who bear responsibility for this accident, the result may well have been the same."(Bold text added by me.)
These are incredible words. I've never seen anything like this. The Commission in its report calls out all of Japan, its culture, people, ways of thinking and essentially says "this must stop." No modern-day seppuku. No resignations. No new prime minister. These powerful words bear repeating. Mr. Kurokawa goes on to say that the emphasis should not be "blame" but "to fix." I could not agree more. This is the new "perception" of Japan I've been waiting for all my life.
The lilac tree I planted near my walkway has exploded in size just this year. It's as if someone planted a magic ball of vitamins under the tree. When I was home in the spring, the tree bloomed with dark purple lilacs (what joy!) but the tree itself was the same size as last year. Eight weeks later this tree is huge. Why does this matter? Because horticultural math can't possibly convey accurately how much this lilac tree has grown. It's twice as tall, twice as wide, and twice as deep as it was last spring. I asked around. "How many times bigger is this tree now with those numbers?"
The answer, mathematically at least, is eight. The tree is eight times larger than it was two months ago. However correct this math might be, if I go around saying "My lilac tree is eight times bigger than it was just this past spring!" no one will believe me. Eight is the wrong number. People would believe that it's twice as tall, wider, and thicker. But, multiplying those numbers to get eight, then saying "it's eight times as big as it was before" sounds wrong. It's perception again. While I mean to be telling the truth, it really is eight times bigger, this doesn't sound right. That it doesn't sound right is the point. Perception just matters.
Modern-day seppuku doesn't sound or look right to those outside of Japan. It's hardly working in Japan. The revolving doors of new prime ministers is neither okay for Japan nor the rest of the world. The Fukushima problem, the problem of how Tohoku will recover, these need consistent leadership--one voice saying, "We will fix this." It's bad enough the problem is enormous. How Japan is perceived, by its own citizens as well as from those around the world is hanging in the balance. If something doesn't change now, not only might the country never recover, the perception we are left with will be forever that of apologies and resignations, empty acts that fix nothing.
An emergency meeting was held. The class presidents and vice-presidents were told to gather. From our homeroom, Panda, our class president, known for his bushy eyebrows and thick and long eyelashes, the smartest boy in the class, and I the vice-president attended. Asked what we were going to do about what our class did, Panda said, "I take responsibility. I will resign."
"No, stupid," and I really did call him that, "you're not going to resign." I then said to the three teachers, "We will stay on. We will fix this. We'll take responsibility, but we're not resigning."
I had no idea what I meant when I said Panda and I would "fix" this, but I thought falling on his sword, committing modern-day seppuku was the stupidest thing he could do. Why was he running away? You don't resign. You fix your mistakes. You stay and fight. Right?
I didn't know then Panda was doing exactly what was expected of him, Japanese-style. He was supposed to resign. As was I. Many years later, I understand why I was wrong back then, but I still stand by my statement. I don't agree with modern-day seppuku, based on ritual disembowlment, acts of complete loyalty to one's master and sacrificing life in the act of ultimate contrition. This is how Japan apologizes. This is how Japanese take responsibility.
Which is why there have been sixteen prime ministers in the past 23 years. Which is why heads of corporations, when caught in a scandal, hold a press conference, table at the front, and when the time comes, rise and bow their heads, camera shutters clicking away furiously. They apologize. They resign. It's done. This is modern-day seppuku.
I used to tell my employees I needed them to be really good at what they did. But, I needed their skills to be 70% of what they put out there, and the remaining 30% had to be what they projected about themselves. Long ago I learned you can be really good at what you do, but if you're not likable you won't get as much done as if you are nice and professional. Perception matters. It really matters. I will get so much more done playing nicely in the sandbox and operating at a high level than, say, someone who's a jerk but really good at what they do. Nice beats mean. It just does.
The perception over the Fukushima nuclear disaster is that there was a cover-up. People lied. TEPCO (Tokyo Electric Power Company, those who operate the nuclear plants) executives lied. Politicians lied. To what extent? About what? That will come out. Some investigative journalist somewhere will someday crack the story wide open, and heads will roll. Can anyone prove these lies? Can anyone prove there was no lying? Finding those answers is important, yes. The perception of lying, however, is the stain spreading all over Japan, its politicians, and those involved in the "cover-up" and this, this perception is what keeps people unconvinced, pessimistic, and distrustful. How did this happen? How did Japanese politicians and businessmen bungle this? Again?
Mr. Kiyoshi Kurokawa, Chairman of the Fukushima Nuclear Independent Investigative Commission has the answer. This is a quote from the introduction of the 646-page report submitted to the Japanese Diet by the Commission: "What must be admitted – very painfully – is that this was a disaster 'Made in Japan.' Its fundamental causes are to be found in the ingrained conventions of Japanese culture: our reflexive obedience; our reluctance to question authority; our devotion to ‘sticking with the program’; our groupism; and our insularity. Had other Japanese been in the shoes of those who bear responsibility for this accident, the result may well have been the same."(Bold text added by me.)
The lilac tree I planted near my walkway has exploded in size just this year. It's as if someone planted a magic ball of vitamins under the tree. When I was home in the spring, the tree bloomed with dark purple lilacs (what joy!) but the tree itself was the same size as last year. Eight weeks later this tree is huge. Why does this matter? Because horticultural math can't possibly convey accurately how much this lilac tree has grown. It's twice as tall, twice as wide, and twice as deep as it was last spring. I asked around. "How many times bigger is this tree now with those numbers?"
The answer, mathematically at least, is eight. The tree is eight times larger than it was two months ago. However correct this math might be, if I go around saying "My lilac tree is eight times bigger than it was just this past spring!" no one will believe me. Eight is the wrong number. People would believe that it's twice as tall, wider, and thicker. But, multiplying those numbers to get eight, then saying "it's eight times as big as it was before" sounds wrong. It's perception again. While I mean to be telling the truth, it really is eight times bigger, this doesn't sound right. That it doesn't sound right is the point. Perception just matters.
Modern-day seppuku doesn't sound or look right to those outside of Japan. It's hardly working in Japan. The revolving doors of new prime ministers is neither okay for Japan nor the rest of the world. The Fukushima problem, the problem of how Tohoku will recover, these need consistent leadership--one voice saying, "We will fix this." It's bad enough the problem is enormous. How Japan is perceived, by its own citizens as well as from those around the world is hanging in the balance. If something doesn't change now, not only might the country never recover, the perception we are left with will be forever that of apologies and resignations, empty acts that fix nothing.
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