Japan
THE FACTS OF
MODERN BUSINESS
AND SOCIAL LIFE
by JAMES REBISCHUNG
Charles E. Tuttle Company
Rutland, Vermont & Tokyo, Japan
This book is dedicated to
all the Japanese people.
Representatives
Continental Europe: Boxerbooks, Inc., Zurich
British Isles: Prentice-Hall International, Inc., London
Canada: Hurtig Publishers, Edmonton
Australasia: Book Wise (Australia) Pty. Ltd. 104-108 Sussex Street, Sydney 2000
Published by the Charles E. Tuttle Company, Inc.
of Rutland, Vermont & Tokyo, Japan
with editorial offices at
Osaki Shinagawa-ku, Tokyo 141-0032
Copyright in Japan, 1974 by Charles E. Tuttle Co., Inc.
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 74-15653
International Standard Book No. 0-8048-1147-4
ISBN: 978-1-4629-1404-3 (ebook)
First edition, 1973 by
James May Company, San Francisco
First Tuttle edition, 1975
Second printing, 1977
[email protected] www.tuttlepublishing.com
0230-000 390-4615
PRINTED IN JAPAN
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
I decided to put this book together after visiting Japan during the summer of 1970. After an absence of twenty years during which I had given little thought to the country and to my experiences there as a member of the United States Army of Occupation, I returned as a tourist and was shocked and dismayed by what had happened to the country during that long interval. My disappointment, of course, was a personal one. Others would not, perhaps, have reacted in the same way. But it was more than some memory shattered or a dream destroyed. It was as if the past had disappeared, had in fact never existed. What I had known as a green, tranquil land full of smiling children and frugal adults, an exotic land full of interesting differences, had almost completely changed. Then, in the aftermath of war’s destruction, facilities were limited and everything was in short supply. The roads were bad and poorly marked. The quaint looking trains were worn and falling apart. The bombings had destroyed almost two and one half million buildings, and the cities were jerry-built and seemed stagnant. Everything was patched together with patience and hope. Everyone seemed malnourished, even sickly. All were poorly dressed and it seemed that everyone wore glasses and had stainless steel teeth. Nowhere was it crowded and it was possible then to walk for a quarter of a mile down a country lane on the outskirts of Yokohama without seeing anyone.
Now, all those smiling children, and more, have grown to adulthood and have moved to the cities to work in shops, offices, and factories, crowding together in cities which can hardly contain them, cities which for the most part still look jerry-built, but now sprawl far out into the once quiet greenery of the farm lands. Stores bulge with goods and nothing is in short supply. Trains are new, fast, and comfortable. There are new freeways, theaters, hotels, restaurants, and signs in English everywhere. Happily, the Japanese people appear remarkably healthy and are exceedingly well-dressed. There is energy and activity throughout the land, and everyone seems confident and assured.
However, much of Japan is now an industrial hell. The land is filled with factories and pollution. There are cars, trucks, buses, machinery and noise everywhere. The once clean air of the countryside is gone with the winds of industrialization, and air pollution rules the Japanese skies. The din, the crowds, and the bad air are almost overwhelming.
Of course, I knew that changes had been going on in the country, for in recent years, there has been much publicity concerning the economic growth and success of Japanese industry. The few books I had read about Japan before my visit placed emphasis on the economic growth of the country and spoke in glowing terms about its industrial transformation. The efforts of the Japanese people during the past twenty years were described as a “miracle,” and the nation was felt to have reached the near-level of a “super-power.” There was some mention of the deteriorating quality of the environment and the discontent of some segments of the population, notably students, but these problems were passed over in favor of the positive gains. Hence, without any recent experience of Japan or a real knowledge of the country, I was not prepared for what met my eyes, ears, and nose during that summer of 1970. I had imagined I would see a country similar to the United States or Europe and was staggered to see that the cities were jumbled masses of decrepit housing, incessant crowds, noise, dirt, and traffic — all mixed together in the worst air I ever had to breathe. Perplexed, I looked in vain for the simple beauty I had once known, for the quietude, for the sound of temple bells, for the smell of wood smoke. But it was all obscured by smog, by plastered buildings, wall-to-wall housing, too many people, and too much machinery.
The tourist brochures that I had examined before my visit showed Japan as an uncrowded wonderland of quaintness and charm, full of kimono-clad beauties and colorful festivals. The expertly produced government magazines showed pictures of impressive, new atomic plants, bridges, dams, super-highways, ultra-modern express trains, and immense oil tankers being built in highly efficient shipyards. Other scenes depicted Japan as an uncrowded land full of serene people quietly having tea in splendid gardens. Still others showed happy vacationers bicycling down picturesque country lanes resplendent with cherry blossoms. The views of the cities showed modern skyscrapers,