Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Into the Rising Sun 6


The samurai code of honour and discipline and morality that had embodied was recodifed and romanticized in Bushidō, Soul of Japan, on the Monterrey, California coast in 1900, by the Quaker pacifist who died in the hospital down the road from my house on Vancouver Island. Inazō Nitobe had envisioned and essentially reinvented the bushidō code as constituted by seven virtues- Rectitude, Courage, Honesty, Benevolence, Respect, Honour, Loyalty, Filial piety, Wisdom, and Care for the aged. Samurai were more complicated than the modern image of a self-sacrificing warrior class. The myth often differed from the reality. Though they were at times the honour-bound fighters of legend, they were also disloyal and treacherous and cowardly gold-hungry mercenaries, pirates, travelers, Christians, politicians, murderers, and vagabonds.
Bushidō had entered the boardroom, through the same door as our salaryman’s suits had, with Konosuke Matsushita, the deceased entrepreneur of the Matsushita Electric Company, and his Seven Spirits of 1933- Service to the public, Fairness and honesty, Teamwork for the common cause, Uniting effort for improvement, Courtesy and humility, Accordance with natural laws, Gratitude for blessings. A more cynical rendition of salaryman Bushidō is the Nintendo Eightfold Path, demanding Subservience to The Company (Long working hours, Wage Slavery, Death by Overwork, Suicide when failing The Company), Subservience of the female (Find lady and Molest lady, Marry lady and bear children with lady), and Avoidance of contact with Gaijin (Wrong speech, Wrong action).
Samurai education began at the tender age of 5, at the local village schools, with the older male family members of the family conducting the teaching. 
The emphasis, understandably, was on military training. Swordsmanship and archery were essential skills, and early samurai spent years mastering the art of being able to fire their bows at moving targets while on horseback. 
To study Sun Tzu's Art of War and the lessons of history, they needed a high level of proficiency in kanji. Bushidō etiquette inculcated a sense of samurai honor, and a code of behavior that would help them avoid the insufferable experience of shame. They were instructed in mathematics, and medicine (to heal battle wounds). Samurai children were sent on arduous errands through cemeteries or to witness executions, to purge them of any fear of death.

            ‘There is a way of bringing up the child of a samurai. From the 
             time of infancy one should encourage bravery and avoid trivially 
             frightening or teasing the child. If a person is affected by 
             cowardice as a child, it remains a lifetime scar. It is a mistake 
             for parents to thoughtlessly make their children dread 
             lightening, or to have them not go into dark places, or to tell 
             them frightening things in order to stop them from crying. 
             Furthermore, a child will become timid if he is scolded 
             severely.’
                    Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure- The Book of the Samurai, 1716

They studied religion, astronomy, art and literature and poetry and calligraphy and monochrome ink painting and flower arranging and tea ceremony and Zen gardens. The majority of samurai were very well educated, formulated on principles of servitude.
The education of my semiconscious salarymen had been no less rigorous, and started just as early. Education in Japan is compulsory from kindergarten to middle school. Unlike the ancestral heritage that guaranteed samurai job security, in the big tree shade of the right daimyô warlord, the ‘employment-for-life’ shelter of the modern warrior would only come with his hiring by a corporation. Whereas education was the result of genetic fortune in feudal times, it is now the tortured means through which a modern salaryman earned his ticket to the middle class. The process followed an equally true Japanese Jo-ha-kyu cadence of a long slow education at one of the few right schools, an accelerated search for an offer of employment in the fourth year of university, and a swift climactic resolution to their quest on graduation.
The stress of this competition for lifetime employment is extreme, and responsible in no small way for the high suicide rate that afflicts Japanese culture. From the beginning of their education, students feel that if they fall behind in school or don’t do well that they are letting their parents down. Over ninety per cent who finish the normal six-hour school day, attend an after hours and weekend Juku cram school five times a week, to gain whatever advantage they can. Over ninety-four per cent of students go on to higher education. University is a three-year memorization hellish preparation for a string of exams that will decide the student’s entire future. 
The culmination of every candidate’s efforts is decided on April Fools day, in the system of Shinsotsu-Ikkatsu-Saiyō ‘simultaneous recruiting of new graduates.’ Over the preceding year, successful candidates will have already chosen a company. They will have taken the requisite ‘aptitude tests,’ and appeared at corporate seminars, job exhibitions, and various other organization events, in their identical ‘recruit suits,’ a navy blue suit, white shirt and diagonally striped tie for men, and a white blouse, navy blue jacket and skirt and plain black shoes for women. The idea is to demonstrate one's ability to conform to the group. Deru Kui Ha Utareru. The stake that sticks up gets hammered down.
Most companies pay little attention to academic records or a student's university experiences, and prefer to train new employees according to company standards. Promotions tend to go to those who attended the same Japanese schools as their bosses. Students often sign on without knowing what their jobs will be.
But things are much worse for the unselected. Japanese companies hire fresh graduates who they can indoctrinate in their corporate culture, assuming that anyone with experience elsewhere will bring bad habits. The selection process is so age-based precisely because every year they have a new batch of graduates to pick from. Japanese companies penalize students who study overseas or have already graduated. Students who are unsuccessful in attaining a job offer upon graduating often opt to stay in school, sidelined in extended studies, or in part-time jobs, or on unemployment benefits. If you don't get hired the year you're graduating, you'll probably never get a good, permanent job. If you miss out, then that's the rest of your life- a Lost Generation, a lifetime of low-paying, temporary or part-time dead-end employment. Their wages may be as little as 40% of a regular employee's pay, with no job security, no training, no biannual bonuses, no transport allowance, no company pension, no subsidized insurance and no paid holidays. 
They wear jumpsuits of different colours according to their employment status, the alphas and epsilons of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and are often obliged to pay more for meals at the company canteen. It is almost understandable that twenty per cent of Japanese college students think about committing suicide during the job-hunting process.

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