Japan's New Middle Class: The Salary Man and His Family in a Tokyo Suburb (2 page)

would mean the collapse of the smaller enterprises. Indeed the economic uncertainty and pessimism that persist in Japan amidst the amazing prosperity and industrial development can be explained partly by the mood of the smaller enterprises which fear destruction because they will be unable to survive the economic squeeze if they are forced to offer higher wages and shorter hours.

In the context of the pessimism of the smaller traditional enterprises, the salary man represents for most Japanese the "bright new life." The salary man's career is not a rapid and glorious rise to such great heights that it appears beyond their reach, but a secure path to moderate success. Able and enterprising young men willing to take risks and look out for their own future have the possibility of rising more rapidly, earning more money, and living more luxuriously by working on their own or joining small firms. But most Japanese have no such confidence in their own talents and long-term economic prospects even if they were to have such an opportunity in the short run. For the vast majority of Japanese the life of the salary man seems to represent as high a standard as they can reasonably hope for.
^[8]
The young Japanese girl hopes to marry a salary man even if his salary were lower because his life is steady, he has leisure time, and she can be free of the anxieties and work connected with independent business. Independent shopkeepers, craftsmen, and farmers complain that they cannot compete with salary men in attracting

[8] In comparing essays of 1250 Japanese children with 3750 American children from grades one to eight on what they wished to be when they grew up, Mary Ellen Goodman notes that more Japanese children want to enter government service and business than American children. Furthermore, she reports that the content of what they mean by business is different. American children are more inclined to speak of becoming salesmen or merchandisers of specific products. Japanese children are more likely to speak of becoming a "company man" or an "office man," that is, a salary man. Mary Ellen Goodman, "Values, Attitudes, and Social Concepts of Japanese and American Children,"
American Anthropologist
, 1957, 59:983.

Social-stratification studies in Japan have generally focused on occupational ranking rather than size of firm, but occupations which clearly imply connection with a large organization such as newspaper reporter, department-store clerk, professor, and basic-research worker show a higher ranking in Japan while independent professionals such as doctor and dentist show a higher ranking in the United States. Clearly a salaried position in a large organization carries with it high prestige in Japan. Cf. Wendell Dean Baker, "A Study of Selected Aspects of Japanese Social Stratification," doctoral dissertation, Columbia University, 1956. Charles E. Ramsey and Robert J. Smith, "Japanese and American Perceptions of Occupation,"
American Journal of Sociology
, 1960, 65:475–482.

desirable brides. The importance of studying the salary man is not only for understanding this group per se but for understanding the aspirations of other Japanese.

The community where we studied salary men is a section of a Tokyo suburb, selected by Japanese social scientists as typically middle class. From visiting other cities in Japan, from conversing with and reading works of Japanese social scientists, and from having a draft of this manuscript read by Japanese who have lived on all four main islands of Japan, I feel confident that the patterns described here for Mamachi are essentially the same for salary men throughout Japan. Although Japanese are very conscious of variations in regional dialect and custom, Japan is a small country which has been relatively isolated because of its insular position and hence has a much more highly unified culture than most countries. Furthermore, the regional differences between salary men are likely to be less than those of farmers, fishermen, and small shopkeepers where conditions of climate, land, water, and relative isolation from urban centers have permitted variations to persist. The standardization of procedures in large bureaucracies and the fact that these organizations exist in large urban centers has tended to place limits on the amount of possible variation. Although Tokyo may be considered a bit more modern than some Japanese cities, about one-tenth of the Japanese population lives in Tokyo, and since about one-half of the Japanese population is still rural, at least one-fifth of all Japanese salary men live in the Tokyo area. Many more were educated there, and because of its crucial position in Japan (it is, in effect, New York, Washington, and Hollywood all in one), Tokyo dominates the mass media and sets the pace for the entire country. Just as the Tokyo dialect has become the standard dialect, so Tokyo culture is becoming national culture. Some young salary men who live in the center of Tokyo may consider Mamachi old-fashioned, and some older salary men in more traditional areas of Japan may consider it too modern, but compared to vast differences between patterns among employees in other countries, these variations are minor. While I have chosen to limit the descriptions to Mamachi because of my familiarity with a wealth of detail I do not have for other communities, I think it safe for the reader to assume that he is reading about a way of life found among salary men throughout Japan. In

many cases precise survey data are available showing the similarity between Mamachi and other communities, and in these cases I will present the data in the footnotes.

The people of Mamachi think of their neighborhood as
shizuka
(quiet and peaceful), separated from the bustle of Tokyo where most of the husbands work.
^[9]
Until about thirty or forty years ago Mamachi was sparsely settled. Although many new houses have gone up in the last generation, the neighborhood with its narrow paths, large trees, and small gardens still retains an aura of suburban calm.

Virtually all homes in Mamachi are privately-owned, single-storied, unpainted wooden dwellings surrounded by ingenious small gardens, separated from the outside world by high fences. One or two sides of the house, generally facing the sun, have sliding glass doors which can be opened to let in the sun and to air out the house during the day. At night, the sliding wooden doors outside the glass doors will be closed to keep out rain, cold, insects, and prowlers. Construction is generally simple and plain, with thin walls, peaked roofs, small windows, no basement. The homes average perhaps three or four rooms in size, the rooms being separated by sliding paper doors. Many homes have one "Western style" room used for a sitting room or for entertaining guests; it has chairs, a couch and a chest of drawers, and is often decorated in a fashion not too different from American style of a few decades ago. Two or three "Japanese style" rooms covered with soft tatami mats can be used for sitting in the day time and for sleeping at night. In the day time, cushions are brought out to sit on, and a table is set up for meals or for entertaining guests. At night the tables and cushions are put away and bedding is taken out of the large closets and placed over the tatami mats. Other furnishings generally are few and simple: a few chests and bureaus, a television set, a radio, a few pictures, decorations, and perhaps a children's desk and a piano. The kitchen is old fashioned by American standards. A few people now can afford a mechanized American style kitchen or at least a

[9] Our field-work procedure is described in the Appendix.

refrigerator, but most families in Mamachi still have only one or two gas burners and a small wooden ice box which they fill with a piece of ice every few days. The kitchen usually is not furnished very attractively and guests are not invited in. One small room contains a small but high Japanese wooden bath tub where the family spends many an evening taking turns relaxing in very hot water. They have cold running water which is safe to drink, and a few families have a little heater to heat water as it comes out of the tap.

The climate of Tokyo is slightly warmer than that of Washington, D.C. with about one snowfall a year and only a few days in winter when the temperature goes below freezing. Because of the style of housing and the high cost of fuel, there is no central heating. In the middle of one of the tatami rooms is a localized heating device known as the
kotatsu
. A portion of the floor is cut out in the shape of a square, and one sits on the floor next to the opening resting his feet on a ledge which goes around all four sides of the opening about eighteen inches below floor level. A few inches below the foot ledge is a place to burn charcoal or install an electric heater. A small table stretches over the opening, and a quilt may be placed over the table and stretched out over people's laps to prevent the heat from escaping. The family eats and spends most of its winter evenings near the
kotatsu
in order to keep warm. The rest of the house is unheated, although many families have a gas or electric stove which they can use when guests come to visit.

Mamachi homes in their simple functional design are pleasant and attractive. In the day time when the sliding doors are opened one can see the choice view of the garden, with its neatly trimmed shrubbery and flowers, carefully swept ground, and, perhaps, some rocks or a very small pond. Although the gardens are small, one has the feeling of being completely away from the rush and pressure of life outside the gates.

Within convenient walking distance from any place in Mamachi are rows of highly specialized small shops which open on to the more heavily traveled streets. There is the dry-goods store, the spice store, the bakery, the sweets store, the canned-goods store, and fruit and vegetable store, the dairy store, the butcher shop, the fish market, the poultry store, the rice store, the tea store, the stationery

store, the shoe store, the electrical-appliance store, the store for pots and pans, the Western-clothing store, the store for bedding supplies, the furniture store, the store for medicine and drugs, and perhaps a few more. Intermingled within a short distance are a number of craftsmen's shops such as that of the maker of tatami mats for the floor, the door maker, the bath maker, the repairman for bicycles and motor bikes, the gardener, the kimono maker, and the tailor.

These small shops usually are run by a single family of parents and children with perhaps a live-in hired helper or two who are likely to be treated almost like family members. The family lives behind the wooden floored shop in a small room or two of tatami mats. While most Mamachi families occasionally shop in Tokyo at the large department stores, they do most of their daily shopping at these small shops where they are steady customers. Some shops, like the canned-goods store or the fruit and vegetable store, send errand boys to take daily orders and deliver them a few hours later. More commonly, the housewife goes out daily, basket under arm and perhaps child on back, to select the things she needs. Relations between housewife and shopkeepers or craftsmen are usually pleasant and cordial. However, they are not intimate, for a wide social gap separates the new middle class from the small shopkeepers of the old middle class who have less desirable housing and physical facilities, less money, less security, and less education.

Since Mamachi is not the center of the suburb, it has relatively few public buildings. There is a large two-storied wooden grade school with more than two thousand children, and a somewhat smaller junior high school, both with large gravel-covered playgrounds. Several police sub-stations, with two or three policemen each, keep track of the residents, make sure that everything is peaceful in the neighborhood and give directions to visitors, an important task because of the irregular numbering of houses. Small branch offices of the post office and fire department service the area. A few small shrines and one temple are tucked away among some of the residences. Local buses run down several of the main streets (ending up at the Mamachi train stop), which provides the residents with a rapid and inexpensive route to downtown Tokyo. Most of the men leave early in the morning, brief case and magazine or newspaper in

hand, and catch a train to work in Tokyo. Wives occasionally go to Tokyo for shopping and many children of junior-high-school and high-school age attend school in Tokyo.

It was our purpose while living in Mamachi to try to live as other residents did, to try to understand their way of living and their way of looking at the world. While there we took copious notes of our observations and of our talks with the residents of Mamachi. In analyzing the notes after returning to the United States my primary purpose has been to see the world of the residents in the perspective of the social setting in which they live.

In comparison with most families around the world and with rural families in Japan, Mamachi families are unusually dependent on the husband's salary and personal savings. Most Mamachi families do not feel part of a tight-knit group of friends or relatives to whom they can turn in time of financial distress.
^[1]
Perhaps they are too proud to let their relatives know about money difficulties, or doubt their relatives' ability to help, or fear future family quarrels, or feel the family relationship too distant to be comfortable in making the request. Whatever their reasons, most of these families would undergo great sacrifices rather than call on relatives or friends for financial assistance.

In rural Japan, as in rural areas in most countries, a family derives its security from the land and in time of need a family can turn to relatives or other members of the local community for assistance. In most industrialized countries families in great need can expect to receive welfare benefits from the government, but for an industrialized nation, Japan's welfare services are not well developed. Benefits are small and few, and not given automatically to people who meet standardized criteria of "neediness." As a result, families seeking welfare aid are put in the position of having to prostrate themselves before welfare officials in order to receive even the minimum of aid. While, for example, even a middle-class family in America would not be very embarrassed by accepting aid for dependent children, social-security payments, compensation for in-

[1] Even in rural areas, however, mutual aid is not nearly so strong as previously. Cf. Tadashi Fukutake,
Studies in the Rural Community in Japan,
Tokyo University Press, 1959, and Edward Norbeck, "Postwar Cultural Change and Continuity in Northeastern Japan,"
American Anthropologist,
1961, 63:297–321.

dustrial accidents, and the like, the Japanese application procedures are often so humiliating, the chance for receiving aid so uncertain, and the amount of aid so inadequate, that the typical Mamachi family does not expect to seek public help, even in time of need.
^[2]
It is also difficult to obtain loans from banks. Not only are interest rates much higher than in the United States, but banks rarely lend money to individual borrowers, and a borrower may acquire bothersome personal as well as financial obligations.
^[3]
Some families turn to moneylenders, but borrow for only a very short time because interest rates are exorbitant. Although there are several moneylenders in Mamachi and families told us that other families go to moneylenders, no family ever told us that they themselves had used moneylenders. Indeed the stories of people sneaking in to pawn shops sound almost like a criminal escaping the detectives.

The wife of an ordinary middle-class Mamachi family has virtually no chance to earn a living by herself. While some poorer wives are able to take in work like sewing, such jobs are increasingly being done by large industries. Even if a middle-class wife could find such work it would be embarrassing, since few jobs would seem suitable to her status except, perhaps, teaching some housewifely arts at which she was particularly skillful or a special service occupation like hairdressing. Even if another job were available, she would receive a much lower salary than a man in the same position, and perhaps even less than a young girl doing the same job. Ordinarily she would seek work only if widowed, and the income she could earn would probably not be adequate to support herself and her children.

Because of these factors, the father's salary is ordinarily the only source of family income, and there is virtually no alternative in time of trouble. The importance of the father's income is most clearly revealed by the changes in family fortune in the event of the father's premature death or incapacity. An illustration of the common problem of family decline after such misfortune is the case of a second son whose father died when the son was still in grade school. Until

[2] Some of the Japanese rules regarding welfare sound as if services were more widespread than they are. For a survey of actual welfare conditions see Eiichi Isomura, Takeyoshi Kawashima, and Takashi Koyama,
Kazoku no Fuyoo
(The Maintenance of Needy Families), Tokyo: Kawade Shoboo, 1956.

[3] For an analysis of problems in borrowing money see John C. Pelzel, "The Small Industrialist in Japan,"
Explorations in Entrepreneurial History,
1954, 7:79–93.

that time the family had been prosperous middle-class people, rich enough to afford a maid. After the father was killed in an accident, the young man's life changed completely. The family had to give up their maid and other luxuries, endure severe economic hardships, and bear the snubs of many former friends. The young man still recalls bitterly the way he felt when he was suddenly without friends. He and his family were not persecuted, but former friends avoided them, apparently fearing they might be called upon for help if they continued to be friendly. Fortunately, the boy's older brother was completing junior high school and soon started work. Although he could not earn enough to keep up their former standard of living, the family never had to worry about having enough to eat. As a result, however, the older brother could never pursue higher education, and only with great sacrifice was the family able to save enough to keep the second son in school.

Furthermore, it is difficult for divorced or widowed women to find new husbands or to obtain help from relatives.
^[4]
It is especially difficult for women with children to remarry because men want children of their own and few earn enough money to support large families. But perhaps more important is the tradition of family loyalty. Sons are expected to continue the family name and line of a dead father, and widows are still admired for remaining loyal to their dead husbands. Men feel that a wife who was properly devoted to her first husband would have difficulty transferring that devotion to another man, and a wife who was not properly devoted to her first husband would be less likely to make a good wife for anyone.
^[5]

In addition to the financial difficulties a widow or divorcee must face, her children are discriminated against when they begin looking for jobs. Mamachi residents report that if two young men of

[4] In 1956, only 6.1 percent of marriages in Japan were of women who had been married before, but 10 percent were of men who had been wed before.
Fujin no Genjoo
(The Position of Women), Tokyo: Roodooshoo Fujinshoonen Kyoku, 1959, p. 55. In the United States, between January, 1947, and June, 1954, 19.9 percent of marriages were of women who had been married before. Paul C. Glick,
American Families,
New York: John Wiley, 1957, p. 141. This difference is too large to be explained only by the difference in the divorce rate.

[5] For a widower, however, it is not only considered advisable but necessary to remarry in order to have someone care for the children. Since the children would remain in the father's line, this is not seen as causing any serious problem.

roughly equal qualifications are seeking employment, one whose home includes a father and one whose home does not, the job would go to the boy with a father. This preference continues today even in corporations which select employees by examination. It is assumed, first of all, that a fatherless boy would not have been given proper disciplinary and moral training. Even if he did receive such training, companies feel that he is more apt to be dishonest, for his greater need for money might tempt him to embezzle or in some way cheat the company for personal and family needs. Furthermore, since he is partly responsible for the care and protection of his mother and siblings and since a firm ordinarily assumes some responsibility for the welfare of its workers and families, the firm is cautious in taking on this extra burden. Although the firm may not contribute enough to make a really easy life for the employee's family, nevertheless, the degree to which it is expected to help could be an added burden on the company.

The almost total reliance of the wife and children on the husband's income is further reflected by the late age of marriage (in 1955, in cities, 47.5 percent of men and 23.6 percent of women 25 to 29 years of age were still single) and the importance of the husband's health as a factor in the decision to marry. A girl is reluctant to marry a man until he is fully established in a place of employment and his health and life expectancy are openly and carefully discussed by his fiancée and her parents. A young man who has had tuberculosis or another serious disease has more difficulty finding a wife not only because people want healthy descendants but because the wife's family wants some assurance that the young man will live long and be able to support his wife. Today increased longevity makes health less problematic than formerly, but it is still one of the major criteria of a desirable husband.

The death of the husband undoubtedly is the most serious blow to a family's livelihood, but the loss of his job is almost as serious. Not only are good jobs hard to find, but because of the policies of Japanese firms, a man who loses his job probably will have to start again at the bottom, with a low salary and with little hope of rapid promotion. Hence, many people consider the stability of a job more important than the amount of income.

The significance of the Japanese salary man lies, therefore, not

only in the fact that he is a nonmanual worker and an organization man, but in the fact that he has a measure of economic security which most Japanese do not have. In a nonaffluent society where one has no place to turn in time of need, and welfare is provided by neither the government nor the family nor personal connections, the large firm assumes a critical importance because it provides security as well as income. The fact that a firm provides this security has many implications for the life of the salary man, but the meaning of working in a bureaucratic setting comes not only from the man's relation to the firm but also from the position in the community that derives from his work. To see the bureaucratic setting in perspective it is necessary to compare the salary man in Mamachi with families of the old middle class in the same community with whom he compares himself: the successful businessman, the independent professional, and the small shopkeeper.

Above salary man families in Mamachi are a small number of families known as "burujoa" (bourgeoisie), a term used in Japan to describe only very successful businessmen. These families gain their status from the style of life made possible by family enterprises which may have as many as five hundred employees.
^[6]
Generally their offices are in Tokyo, but they are very influential in Mamachi affairs and are treated with respect by other Mamachi residents. These families do not need to rely on a large firm, because they have ample security from the financial standing and success of the business and the fact that the husbands' entrepreneurial abilities and friendships with other influential people would be in demand even if the present business failed. Some of these men are from business families and have acquired these skills over many years, but even those who inherited old family firms have guided their companies successfully through enormous change and development in the past few years. The combination of long training, recent success, influential friends, and high standard of living provides them with ample basis for self-confidence and pride. Yet they are intensely concerned with the business competition, the rapidly changing

[6] Large industrialists generally live in Tokyo. To my knowledge, none live in Mamachi.

markets, and the general pressures on small business, and they devote their boundless energy toward making the business even more successful.

Their position in Mamachi society is not based only on financial standing and is secure enough to withstand temporary business reverses. They are continuously called upon for leadership in Mamachi organizations, campaigns, and celebrations. It is thought that without their co-operation and support, if not their active guidance, no organization in Mamachi could be successful and no important matter could be satisfactorily resolved. The successful businessman is effective in local organizations, not only because he can be counted on for a sizeable financial contribution but because he can pinpoint the basic problems, deal with them frankly and directly and, by his broad range of contacts through business and the community, effectively mobilize the support necessary to implement his opinions. While he can express his convictions freely, many others reserve judgment until he has spoken and then accept his suggestions. Although he is capable of showing consideration for others, his manner commonly reflects a sense of superiority and others generally accept this as natural and proper. In striking contrast to the typical salary man, he need not indulge in self-effacing modesty and may even boast about his income, the size of his firm, and the scope of his responsibility.

By virtue of his position, he and his family have a feeling of noblesse oblige toward other members of the community. Indeed, the problem which worries him most is the time and energy required for dealing with the many requests from friends and acquaintances for introductions and assistance in finding their children schools, work, and the like. His response to requests may be determined by the legitimacy of the need, the degree to which he is obligated to help the other person, and the difficulties involved, but even if he refuses, he feels it necessary to give some evidence that he has tried to help. He pays a heavy price for his prominence in the community.

Although responsive to praise and honor, the successful businessman often evaluates his participation in community affairs on the basis of its compatibility with his primary interest: business success. At times he feels it incumbent upon him, because of his community