Sign of the Times
Today's Japanese motivated by anxiety rather than desire
While swine flu no longer dominates headlines the way it once did, the virus is still running rampant. On June 12 (Japan time), the World Health Organization declared H1N1 influenza a global pandemic, raising its pandemic alert level to Phase 6. Furthermore, the cumulative number of swine flu cases in Japan has exceeded 1,000, according to the June 25 evening edition of the Mainichi Shimbun.
There was a sudden surge in mask-wearing after the first cases of domestic transmission were confirmed in mid-May, and the public scrambled to stock up on disposable masks. Manufacturers were unable to keep up with demand, and the sight of "sold out of masks" signs on drugstore and convenience store shelves is still fresh in our minds.
In early June, however, the number of people wearing masks suddenly dropped, and masks became easily obtainable. Although the flu epidemic has yet to end, it appears that people are rapidly letting their guard down. The question then, is this: was it actually the mask-wearing that was widespread, and not the flu?
It is easy to read the recent developments as a manifestation of Japanese group mentality and tendency to follow the crowd, that the urge not to be left behind by the rest of society prompted people to act the way they did. I can't help but feel, however, that it does not entirely explain the recent mask-wearing craze.
There has been another piece of news that has been on my mind of late and relates back to this herd behavior.
On June 1, crowds descended on Tokyo's ritzy Ginza district when a well-established jeweler gave away free diamonds as a publicity stunt. Throngs of would-be diamond owners packed the streets, forming a two-kilometer-long line as they waited for their handout. Ultimately, however, only a small percentage of the people actually received free diamonds, and the store was left to deal with complaints from those who were not as lucky, with the jewelry company's president making an appearance at one point to offer words of apology.
There are quite a few baffling elements to this story. Taking time off from work and waiting for hours in line for a diamond worth a mere 5,000 yen does not seem very cost effective. Based on the simple fact that the gifts were free, no one could have been certain they would actually receive a diamond, so complaining about not getting one seems rather unreasonable.
In looking at the two aforementioned cases, would the mere desire for health or diamonds have resulted in such phenomena? What appears to have motivated people in these two instances is not the desire to gain something, but rather the anxiety that comes from being the only one to lose out.
It is widely said that there has been an erosion of desire, especially among the younger generation. I see such evidence in my clinical practice, where the issues of overspending and debt are no longer the huge problems they once were. More problematic now are cases in which patients do not partake in any consumption activities, seen particularly among non-social young people such as "hikikomori" (the socially isolated) or those otherwise not in education, employment or training, known as NEETs. They are overwhelmed by anxiety, and remain in a state that on the surface looks like asceticism.
If indeed it is anxiety that motivates people rather than desire, is there anything wrong with that?
Unfulfilled desire will only lead to resignation and disillusionment, but unresolved anxieties will often bring about anger via a victim mentality. Such anger forces most people to become intolerant, namely in a shallow way. The reason such intolerance is "shallow" is because the intolerance is not based on any ideology or creed, but rather is of a transient, emotional nature. The very problem lies in the fact that it is forgotten as soon as there is a change in circumstances.
Because of its tremendous fluidity, shallow intolerance can flare up instantaneously. In addition, because such intolerance is based on emotions, it can easily be directed at those close to us with whom we can easily empathize. This explains why such intolerance is prone to follow a course of behavior more similar to group bullying than political activism.
Needless to say, it is extremely dangerous to debate matters concerning foreign diplomacy, the death penalty, discrimination, or social welfare while governed by such shallow intolerance. But what is most problematic about such shallow intolerance is that it can often be directed toward oneself.
Those who often find others inexcusable easily direct that inability to forgive inwards, rejecting themselves. Self-rejection begets further anxiety, which begets further intolerance. In "Kyoki ni tsuite" (On Madness), a collection of writings by the late scholar of French literature Kazuo Watanabe, the author says, "Tolerance must be defended by tolerance alone, never by intolerance." The same came be said in putting a stop to a vicious cycle of anxiety and intolerance.
The trend that has recently overtaken mask-wearing is Haruki Murakami's newest novel, "1Q84." The fact that nearly 2 million copies have been sold in a month since it hit bookstores is a social phenomenon in itself.
One of the key themes of the novel is resistance toward overly simplified value judgments and intolerance. Upon finishing the book, filled with complicated twists and turns, readers cannot help but feel skeptical of their own intolerance. Because of this, I hope that readers are getting their hands on the book not out of anxiety, but from desire. That would give us a glimmer of hope. (By Tamaki Saito, psychiatrist)
(Mainichi Japan) July 11, 2009