Japan's New Middle Class: The Salary Man and His Family in a Tokyo Suburb (18 page)

To the extent that a child's world expands beyond his neighborhood it does so largely through his relatives. Cousins of the same sex and about the same age are likely to develop close ties. If one cousin is slightly older than another of the same sex, he may become maternalistic or paternalistic to the younger, especially if the

younger has no older sibling of the same sex. The younger often has a deep respect for the older, visiting as often as possible and asking advice on all kinds of questions. Overnight visiting is rare except with relatives, but during vacations children often spend a few days at the home of a cousin.

Sometimes a child will spend part of his vacation with grandparents, and if so, he may become friendly with children in the grandparents' neighborhood. Occasionally relatives do not get along well, but by and large children have positive relationships with relatives and look forward to these visits. Though parents may be reluctant to visit rural relatives because of the obligations it might pose for them, the children are more likely to regard trips to relatives in farming or fishing villages as sheer delight.

When boys leave high school and college to go to work, they quickly form new relationships with men at work, but for girls, graduation means the end of many friendships and is an occasion for weeping. They know there will be few opportunities to get together with old school friends and little opportunity to form friendships of equal closeness. They gradually become separated from each other by marriage, and once they live in different neighborhoods and have the responsibility of caring for children, they rarely have a chance to meet. After completing school many girls stay at home, perhaps taking a few special lessons in preparation for marriage. Those who work for a few years after school may develop friendships at work and feel the same kind of loneliness when they give up their jobs that others felt when they left school.

Many parents are reluctant to allow a daughter to work because they are afraid that she would lose her simplicity and perhaps even form irresponsible relationships. While, as de Tocqueville commented, the American girl may protect her virginity by her own skills based on independence and fairly broad contacts, the Japanese parent is afraid that his daughter, lacking in experience, would be unable to resist the first man who came along. Hence, although many girls work between school and marriage, it is often thought better for her to stay at home, taking lessons in cooking, flower arranging, sewing, tea ceremony, and other housewifely arts rather than to work where the family has no control over her relationships. After leaving school, the daughter may work two, three, or four

years at home with her family until marriage arrangements are completed. The girl's stay at home at this age is, in a sense, preparation for the limited social world she will know after marrying, just as her brother's loyalty to groups from his own college is preparation for the loyalty he will feel later to his company.

The most important relationships until, and sometimes after, marriage are those with the same sex. While "dance parties" are not uncommon in college nowadays, dating still is not widespread, and at high-school age it is virtually unknown. One girl, when asked if there was any dating in her (coeducational) high school replied that there was a boy and girl who did ride home together on the train and that the other students kept talking about it because it was so unusual. Even college-age students who meet at "dance parties" in the course of skiing or hiking weekends, or through introductions, are awkward in relating to someone of the opposite sex. Young girls anxious to form dating relationships find it difficult to arrange opportunities, and therefore many of them in the end let their families arrange their marriage despite their professed ideology to the contrary.

Perhaps the most striking characteristic of Japanese society is the existence of a series of tightly-knit groups, connected by a controlled and limited amount of movement. Although a salary man has a broader perspective than the traditional middle-class man, these differences are minor when compared to a more openly mobile society such as the United States. The contrasts between the Mamachi wife and her Western counterpart are even stronger. Some Japanese who are humanitarian or have a broader range of contacts (for example, those who have lived in Japanese overseas colonies before World War II or traveled abroad after the war) have been urging their fellow citizens to take more responsibility for the welfare of people outside their own narrow world. But neither their urging nor the growth of modern bureaucracy have succeeded in greatly weakening the Mamachi citizen's sharp distinction between friend and stranger.
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[9] Though there are folk stories in which kindness to strangers in need is rewarded, the traditional Confucian philosophy supports the view that one shouldfeel more affection and obligation toward those in one's own social sphere than to outsiders.

The contrast between America and Japan is much like Kurt Lewin's distinction between America and Germany. Cf. Kurt Lewin,
Resolving Social Conflicts,
New York: Harper & Brothers, 1948, chapter 1.

Mamachi residents do have more opportunities to encounter strangers than the middle class in rural areas and have, therefore, developed routines for dealing with them. But compared to the upper class who have self-confidence, poise, and a wider experience in greeting strangers, the Mamachi salary man is reserved and therefore relies on these routines and formalities to deal with outsiders. The formalities may be jovial and even include lavish entertainment or they may consist of curt evasion. But in either case, the effect is the same. Strangers are kept at a proper distance and not allowed to penetrate into the inner circles.

Because the Mamachi resident ordinarily belongs to only one or two intimate groups to which he is absolutely devoted, these groups tend to absorb his total personality. He has no clear conception of himself apart from the group. He rarely belongs to special-interest groups with specific and limited purposes. His intimate group may cover a wide range of functions: recreation, gossip, travel, advice, and mutual assistance in making proper placement of children or in consumer purchasing. An individual typically has so little experience with other groups that he has little critical judgment for evaluating his own group and feels there is nothing to do (
shikata ga nai
) but accept his own group's standards. Lacking the security of belonging to other groups, he ordinarily makes no attempt to withstand group pressures. Although a wide span of individual difference and free expression is permitted members who are loyal and accepted by the group, on basic issues, which affect group welfare, members are sensitive to the prevailing group sentiment.

Because of the tight-knit nature of each group, a person is reluctant to leave it and face the difficulty of entering a new one. If it is necessary to move, as when a child is placed in work or marriage or when a family moves to a new community, a family takes great care in establishing connections to the new group. The difficulty of moving is reflected in the special ceremonies at the time a member enter or leaves a group.
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All occasions of entering and leaving a

[10] All families still react with great feeling in discussing
mura hachibu,
the practicein which a villager who had seriously violated the norms of the community was socially ostracized and even expelled by the villagers. This was regarded as the most complete and final punishment. One might contrast this fear of being on his own with the spirit of the American frontier which glorified an individual setting out on his own. Cf. Robert J. Smith, "The Japanese Rural Community: Norms, Sanctions, and Ostracism,"
American Anthropologist,
1961, LXIII:522–533.

group are carefully ceremonialized. Even a short trip is important enough to call for farewell and welcome-back parties, and whole groups gather at train stations and airports to send off a departing member. Aside from formal ceremonies of welcoming a bride to a new neighborhood and welcoming a man to his company, the entrance into these new groups is a major event, and it may take many months or years before a new person is totally accepted.

Because of the sharp differences between friend and stranger, in considering the Mamachi community it is necessary to distinguish: (1) acquaintances, who stand outside the bond of close-knit groups, (2) benefactors, who stand on the periphery of a group or form the bridge to another group, and (3) true friends, who are firmly inside one's own group.

When meeting a stranger without proper introduction, one is apt to encounter a wall of apathy covered by formal politeness. The other person need not be hostile; he can be polite, but by his reserve, impersonality, and vagueness he indicates his caution in pursuing the contact. A Mamachi resident has no feeling of obligation and little feeling of sympathy to strangers.
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In getting on and off crowded trains and buses, for example, people push in a manner which, though impersonal, is rude even by Western standards. As the saying goes, "You can throw off your shame when traveling."

To help break down the wall of apathy and escape the role of stranger, nearly every Mamachi man carries some calling cards in his pocket. They contain his name, position, and place of work, and,

[11] In completing sentences such as "the neighbors are," those who have lived in a community for a long time express a more positive attitude toward the community than do newcomers. While older wives express satisfaction with their neighbors, young wives who have moved in recently make such comments as "the neighbors are very talkative," "gossipy," "critical," "unfair," and the like. Such differences seem to reflect the length of time required for acceptance in a new community. Although this tendency was more pronounced in rural areas, the same general pattern is noted in the urban groups.

unless he wishes to keep it secret, his home address and perhaps his phone number. In exchanging name cards, he tries to mention a mutual acquaintance or a well-known friend in order to establish his own social position and break through the role of stranger. In some cases he may have a mutual acquaintance write a short note on his own name card, which can then be shown to avoid any doubts about the connection. The assumption clearly is that connections are helpful in obtaining favorable treatment. Women have fewer opportunities to greet outsiders and it is regarded as pretentious and overly independent for an ordinary wife to have a name card of her own.

If a person is properly introduced by an important friend he is likely to get good treatment, and there is a vague expectation that the important friend will return the favor. High-status people are given special consideration, and many Westerners are treated kindly because they are seen to have relatively high status. This is not a generalized friendliness, for many Mamachi residents complained of rudeness from people who had welcomed my wife and me very graciously.

When a person is properly introduced, even though the situation is still formal, he is likely to be greeted warmly. If handled skillfully the contact can be pleasant, but the atmosphere is contrived, and the laughing, though real, is impersonal. Mamachi residents are more frank than Westerners in clarifying social status, but more cautious in expressing personal opinions. Although undergoing some modifications since the war, a standardized etiquette prescribing relationships between people of different degrees of familiarity and of different social status remains widespread. The less familiar the acquaintance and the higher his social position above one's own, the more one uses honorific language, deep and frequent bows, impersonal expressions, humble body gestures, and self-depreciation. Although in recent years the polite language has tended to be simplified and the most honorific terms have become less common, distinctions indicating the degree of social distance between persons remain basic to the language and to the social interaction.

Although the foreign observer is struck by the amount of protocol, it must be remembered that, when he is present, the situation is likely to be more formal than it would be otherwise. He is also

impressed with the amount of skill, sensitivity, and considerateness of Mamachi residents in handling each properly introduced person and each new situation smoothly. It is not surprising that they consider foreigners brash. The skills of dealing with acquaintances are cultivated to a much higher degree of refinement by a resident of Mamachi than by a comparable member of the American middle class. The skilled person is able to find just the right level of politeness. Overly polite language or incessant bowing would create as uncomfortable a situation as would overly familiar treatment. The goal in such situations is naturalness in according the other person the respect appropriate to his age and status. There is a proper way to treat inferiors just as there is a proper way to treat superiors.

The exceptionally skilled person who feels at home in formal situations and relates easily to people whom he has just met is much admired as an aid in promoting smooth relationships between strangers.
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Even if an ordinary person handles acquaintances adequately, underneath he usually feels a strain. The aggressive, talkative individual frequently serves a social function similar to the skilled person. Others seem to be relieved to have him take the responsibility to keep things moving even though he may be basically unpopular. On the one hand the group may give him the "go ahead"; on the other hand they dislike him as too aggressive.

Such persons are crucial in settings where people do not know each other well, for otherwise they are likely to remain reserved. Mamachi residents are undoubtedly sincere when they say it is unpleasant for them to have to put up with so many formalities, not only because of the stiffness, but because it interferes with dealing with the matters for which the group was originally called together.