Tuesday, December 19, 2006

"The Other"

I've decided to post an old paper (3 years ago) that I wrote about the concept of "The Other." It's old, and it's before I moved to Japan, but I think it's probably 99% correct, as I was studying a lot about ways of thought, ways of thinking, cultures, and I had a lot of Japanese people to speak with at that time. It hints at some of the things I've written in previous posts as well (the way for a person to change, etc.) I've also written a follow-up paper to this that I will probably post parts of as an addendum, as some of the references in this are specific to the class I was attending (the references to a native american book). Anyway, if anyone is reading this I'd appreciate some thoughts as this post should incite questions.

This is probably the most critical post I've made of Japan here so far, but that is not the point. If you search on the internet for things like "teaching in Japan" you'll find more than your fair share of Japan criticism. In fact, part of the point of my blog is to point out the fallacies and misunderstandings of a lot of that criticism. My point with this is for you to explore the ways that you use "the other" in your day to day life.

"The Other"

There are many differences between individual-based and group-based cultures. In fact, the chasm is deeper than it seems, and that inevitably leads to disharmony. I would like to discuss some misunderstandings that seem to pervade cross-cultural exploration. This discussion should make the differences very obvious. There are two specific areas in which I’d like to write. First, is the relationships between freedom, ethical scope and the Other. Second, I will write about culture and the language that is tied to it. I hope to infuse some of my personal culture crossing experiences in Japan, and take a contemporary look at how technology is involved in the shaping of culture.

It seems that personal freedom is the basic notion behind an individual-based society. Critical theory makes note of the fact that this freedom does not really exist. In American society there are multitudes of choices we are given, from car color and hair color to menus of hundreds of food items and public debate on issues of non-import. This abundance of meaningless choices helps to obscure the fact that we are not making any meaningful ones. How much say has the public had in cases such as the genome project, genetically engineered foods, animal experimentation, stem cell research, or any of the myriad environmental concerns? There are pre-set parameters of choice from within which we are simply to choose an option.

If any such freedom truly exists, then the next question to be asked is, “freedom from what?” Aldo Leopold notes that, “all ethics so far evolved rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts” (Leopold 236). With that in mind, I propose that we are championing our freedom from interdepence and from responsibility to a community! The problem with taking others into account is one of convenience. Like Kant’s deontological ethics (wherein acts should be committed in reference to the categorical imperative), Leopold’s idea is that ethical behavior resides somewhere above individual preferences. So, if we are to be ethical, we should at least acknowledge the community, our environment to some degree.

Once we take focus off of ourselves as individuals, we must decide where the community begins and where it ends. A line is usually drawn somewhere. This is exemplified by the case of the ethical treatment of animals. The general approach taken to ethics is that it is a strictly human affair. That is, the general assumption is that only humans are capable of proposing and adhering to ethical theories (or having a sense of moral obligation or duty). So, do animals fit in somewhere? It is possible to construct a theory where the cruel treatment of animals is simply not an ethical concern. To the modern mind, it is not even desirable to protect all species (cockroaches and mosquitoes should be swatted, viruses should be eliminated). So where is the line drawn?

Leopold’s position (and it seems the Native American’s position in general) is that the land itself is to be included in the ethical scope of the community. The community, including the land, must be loved, admired, respected and honored in an interdependent relationship. It would be interesting to ask how the individual-based cultures have drifted from such an idea. Leopold states, “true modern man is separated from the land by many middlemen, and by innumerable physical gadgets. He has no vital relation to it; to him it is the space between cities on which crops grow” (Leopold 244). I’d like to look into this technological influence via reference to Heidegger.

Heidegger, in his essay on technology, distinguishes two types of bringing forth or revealing in the world: poiesis, the phenomenological method of revealing truth and Being, and techne, the bringing forth of challenge. “The revealing that rules in modern technology is a challenging, which puts to nature the unreasonable demand that it supply energy that can be extracted and stored as such… a tract of land is challenged into the putting out of coal and ore” (Heidegger 14). This instrumental view of land seems to be part of the problem of letting the land into the community. Heidegger continues, “The hydroelectric plant is not built into the Rhine River as was the old wooden bridge that joined bank with bank for hundreds of years. Rather, the river is dammed up into the power plant… the Rhine is still a river in the landscape, is it not? Perhaps. But how? In no other way than as an object on call for inspection by a tour group ordered there by the vacation industry” (Heidegger 16).

The role of the Other signifies an impenetrable difference that, throughout the years, has been responsible for both demonization and fascination. “A society’s treatment of strangers mirrors the individual’s attitude to his/her unconscious fears and desires” (Cavallaro 129). I would like to briefly examine how the role of the other works in the group-based society of Japan.

Japanese culture epitomizes the idea of identity based on the Other. In fact, it codifies it. Japan is a vertical group society. It is hierarchical and consistently arranged from great to small – all Japanese are part of the large group, siblings are part of a smaller family group, etc. Everyone strives to be part of the main group and ostracization is no small thing. This is summed up perfectly by the proverb “Deru kugiha utareru” (“The protruding nail gets hammered down”). From the ground up, the society is based on whether you are part of the in-group or whether you are the Other. Groups are called “zoku” (“family” or “tribe”) and anyone outside your group is called “tanin” (literally from ideograms: “other” and “person”). “Tanin” is generally translated as “stranger.” One time, speaking with a friend, I mistakenly (and shockingly) referred to myself as kochira (“this direction”). This word by itself is not the problem – Japanese doesn’t have personal pronouns so such words are used. The problem was, as friends we are both part of the same group. Therefore, the two of us together are “this direction” while the Other is “that direction.” So I had inadvertently turned her into the Other, castigating her from my group.

Obviously, people of other races or ethnicities are the Other. Caucasians that first came to Japan were called Tengu (a red-faced, long-nosed demon from Japanese folklore). The term used today for Westerners is gaijin (literally, “outside person”). The line between in-group and Other for foreigners is still distinctly drawn. It is notoriously difficult for any non-Japanese to become a Japanese citizen. People of African descent are still looked down upon and feared. They are “black person” first and “outside person” second. Note how Crow Dog presents a variation of this: “I think it significant that in many Indian languages a black is called a ‘black white man’” (Crow Dog 77).

If it can be pointed out that individual freedom doesn’t exist in our individual-based society, then what else are we mistaken about? What do we really know about group-based societies? Zizek says we only know fantasies, “myths of reference” (Zizek 1). Sure, we know that inside group societies there is, “caring for each other, for the ‘helpless ones,’ the old folks and especially the children, the coming generation” (Crow Dog 12). Sometimes it is hard to understand their behavior. We know that they behave like communistic ants. We know they aren’t individuals. We know they are slaves to conformity. Or is that us?

We should not be looking at behavior. The main difference that leads to disharmony between individual-based and group-based societies is found in the ways of thinking. “Unfortunately the psychology of white children… is different from ours” (Crow Dog 29). “Culture consists of ideals, values, and assumptions about life that guide specific behaviour” (Brislin 23). It is my contention that cultural ideals, values, beliefs, and so on are inextricably linked with language. I plan to detail Japan’s language and ways of thinking to point out an amazing contrast with American culture.

“The Japanese are well aware that something which may appear superficial and unnecessary, has a much deeper structural function” (Zizek 1). Rituals serve function to structure. As such, ritual cannot be overlooked. For Japan, the structure is harmony (wa). This is where it gets tricky for the Western mind. A ritual seems to be just a meaningless image. But to the Japanese, the meaningless image is the meaning. It sounds cryptic but I will expand upon it after explaining a bit about the structure of their language.

Japanese language is heteronomic (for Western concepts, 2nd-person centered, although it's slightly different from that). The center of the language is outside of the self. In English and other "I" languages, you can definitely see the self at the center (try having any conversation without use of the word). The Japanese center floats around elsewhere. As mentioned above, there are no personal pronouns in Japanese – “I” doesn’t exist. As a simple example of heteronomy, they would say "cold, right?" rather than "I'm cold.” At a bit more complex level, it involves the fact that Japanese are constantly thinking of the state of the person with whom they are engaged in discussion. They are not paying attention to their own state – that is, after all, the other person’s job. The instant response to “cold, right?” would be to look around for a window to close or a thermostat to adjust to make the room warmer. A simple contrast of conversation should illustrate this point a bit further. Let’s imagine that you’re talking with someone who has never seen Star Wars.

The English version
You: You've never seen Star Wars?
Them: Nope.

The Japanese version
You: You've never seen Star Wars?
Them: Yep.

In English, we refer to our own state: "No, I've never seen star wars." In Japanese, the person is centered on your state – your question: "Yes, you're right that I've never seen star wars."

With heteronomy in mind, let’s continue moving towards the idea of the meaningless image as the meaning. A traditional Japanese person acts towards others with tatemae (a built-front). That is, with ritualistic politeness, etiquette and form. That is what creates harmony. The mere appearance of harmony is the harmony. This is at the very foundation of their culture; the structure itself is an image. It seems inside out. They believe you change yourself by mimicking the desired behavior or pretending on the surface that you have changed. Change happens from the outside in.

I will finish up with a personal example which I believe epitomizes the completely different ways of thinking. My Japanese friend once told me she doesnt believe in any religion, but she might believe in animism. I asked her why she might believe animism. In Japan there are animal spirit statues at forks in the road. The ritual is to ask the spirit for guidance in choosing the safe passage at the fork. She answered, "Because when I come to a fork in the road I ask the statue." If we are to ever really relate as cultures based on different foundations, we must understand ourselves first, as well as try to understand them with openness to change (even if it comes from the outside in).

3 comments:

no1bookmark said...

It must be difficult to create a new thought process to feel a "part" of the Japan you are living. While Americans spend their entire life relating to themselves first and foremost, how does one change their mindset to put everyone else first and foremost...most especially, doing it entirely with sincerity?

no1bookmark said...

It must be difficult to create a new thought process to feel a "part" of the Japan you are living. While Americans spend their entire life relating to themselves first and foremost, how does one change their mindset to put everyone else first and foremost...most especially, doing it entirely with sincerity?

owenandbenjamin said...

I like your blog and what you write about. I will visit more often if you don't mind.