JAPANESE SOCIETY

Chie Nakane


Preface

Chapter One: Criteria of Group Formation

1. Attribute and frame
2. Emotional participation and one-to-one relationships

Chapter Two: The Internal Structure of the Group

1. The development of ranking
2. The fundamental structure of vertical organization
3. Qualification of the leader and interpersonal relations in the group
4. The undifferentiated rôle of the group member

Chapter Three: The Overall Structure of the Society

Chapter Four: Characteristics and Value Orientation of Japanese Man

1. From school to employment
2. The web or comradeship
3. Localism and tangibility

Concluding Remarks


Preface

This short work presents a configuration of the important elements to be found in contemporary Japanese social life, and attempts to shed new light on Japanese society. I deal with my own society as a social anthropologist using some of the methods which I am accustomed to applying in examining any other society. However, its form is not that of a scientific thesis (as may be seen at once from the absence of a bibliography; I have also refrained from quoting any statistical figures or precise data directly obtained from field surveys).

In this book I have tried to construct a structural image of Japanese society, synthesizing the major distinguishing features to be found in Japanese life. I have drawn evidence almost at random from a number of different types of community to be found in Japan today ― industrial enterprises, government organizations, educational institutions, intellectual groups, religious communities, political parties, village communities, individual households and so on. Throughout my investigation of groups in such varied fields, I have concentrated my analysis on individual behaviour and interpersonal relations which provide the base of both the group organization and the structural tendencies dominating in the development of a group.

It may appear to some that my statements in this book are in some respects exaggerated or over-generalized; such critics might raise objections based on the observations that they themselves happen to have made. Others might object that my examples are not backed by precise or detailed data. Certainly this book does not cover the entire range of social phenomena in Japanese life, nor does it pretend to offer accurate data relevant to a particular community. This is not a description of Japanese society or culture or the Japanese people, nor an explanation of limited phenomena such as the urbanization or modernization of Japan. Rather, it is my intention that this book will offer a key (a source of intelligence and insight) to an understanding of Japanese society, and those features which are specific to it and which distinguish it from other complex societies. I have used wide-ranging suggestive evidence as material to illustrate the crucial aspects of Japanese life, for the understanding of the structural core of Japanese society rather as an artist uses his colours. I had a distinct advantage in handling these colours, for they are colours in which I was born and among which I grew up; I know their delicate shades and effects. In handling these colours, I did not employ any known sociological method and theory. Instead, I have used anything available which seemed to be effective in bringing out the core of the subject matter. This is an approach which might be closer to that of the social anthropologist than to that of the conventional sociologist.

The theoretical basis of the present work was originally established in my earlier study, Kinship and Economic Organization in Rural Japan (Athlone Press, London, 1967). This developed out of my own field work, including detailed monographs by others, in villages in Japan and, as soon as that research was completed, I was greatly tempted to test further, in modern society, the ideas which had emerged from my examination of a rather traditional rural society. In my view, the traditional social structure of a complex society, such as Japan, China or India, seems to persist and endure in spite of great modern changes. Hence, a further and wider exploration of my ideas, as attempted in this book, was called for in order to strengthen the theoretical basis of my earlier study.

Some of the distinguishing aspects of Japanese society which I treat in this book are not exactly new to Japanese and western observers and may be familiar from discussions in previous writings on Japan. However, my interpretations are different and the way in which I synthesize these aspects is new. Most of the sociological studies of contemporary Japan have been concerned primarily with its changing aspects, pointing to the 'traditional' and 'modern' elements as representing different or opposing qualities. The hey-day of this kind of approach came during the American occupation and in the immediately subsequent years, when it was the standpoint adopted by both Japanese and American social scientists. The tendency towards such an approach is still prevalent; it is their thesis that any phenomena which seem peculiar to Japan, not having been found in western society, can be labelled as 'feudal' or 'pre-modern' elements, and are to be regarded as contradictory or obstructive to modernization. Underneath such views, it seems that there lurks a kind of correlative and syllogistic view of social evolution: when it is completely modernized Japanese society will or should become the same as that of the west. The proponents of such views are interested either in uprooting feudal elements or in discovering and noting modern elements which are comparable to those of the west. The fabric of Japanese society has thus been made to appear to be torn into pieces of two kinds. But in fact it remains as one well-integrated entity. In my view, the 'traditional' is one aspect (not element) of the same social body which also has 'modern' features. I am more interested in the truly basic components and their potentiality in the society ― in other words, in social persistence.

The persistence of social structure can be seen clearly in the modes of personal social relation which determine the probable variability of group organization in changing circumstances. This persistence reveals the basic value orientation inherent in society, and is the driving force of the development of society. Social tenacity is dependent largely on the degree of integration and the time span of the history of a society. In Japan, India, China and elsewhere, rich and well-integrated economic and social development occurred during the pre-modern period, comparable to the 'post-feudal' era in European history, and helped create a unique institutionalization of social ideals. Values that crystallized into definite form during the course of pre-modern history are deeply rooted and aid or hinder, as the case may be, the process of modernization. To explore these values in terms of their effects on social structure appears to me to be a fascinating subject for the social sciences. In this light, I think Japan presents a rich field for the development of a theory of social structure. I approach this issue through a structural analysis, not a cultural or historical explanation. The working of what I call the vertical principle in Japanese society is the theme of this book. In my view, the most characteristic feature of Japanese social organization arises from the single bond in social relationships: an individual or a group has always one single distinctive relation to the other. The working of this kind of relationship meets the unique structure of Japanese society as a whole, which contrasts to that of caste or class societies. Thus Japanese values are manifested. Some of my Japanese readers might feel repelled in the face of some parts of my discussion; where I expose certain Japanese weaknesses they might even feel considerable distaste. I do this, however, not because of a hypercritical view of the Japanese or Japanese life but because I intend to be as objective as possible in this analysis of the society to which I belong. I myself take these weaknesses for granted as elements which constitute part of the entire body which also has its great strengths.

Finally, I wish to express my profound thanks to Professor Ernest Gellner, whose very stimulating and detailed comments as editor helped me a great deal in completing the final version of the manuscript. I am greatly indebted to Professor Geoffrey Bownas, who kindly undertook the difficult task of correcting my English. I was fascinated by the way he found it possible to make my manuscript so much more readable without altering even a minor point in the flow of my discussion.

C.N.


Chapter One:
Criteria of Group Formation

1. Attribute and frame

The following analysis employs two basic but contrasting criteria. These are attribute and frame, concepts newly formulated here, but which, I think, are illuminating and useful in a comparative study of Japanese and other societies.

It is important, however, to redefine our terms. In this analysis groups may be identified by applying the two criteria: one is based on the individual's common attribute, the other on situational position in a given frame. I use frame as a technical term with a particular significance as opposed to the criterion of attribute, which, again, is used specifically and in a broader sense than it normally carries. Frame may be a locality, an institution or a particular relationship which binds a set of individuals into one group: in all cases it indicates a criterion which sets a boundary and gives a common basis to a set of individuals who are located or involved in it. In fact, my term frame is the English translation of the Japanese ba, the concept from which I originally evolved my theory, but for which it is hard to find the exact English counterpart. Ba means 'location', but the normal usage of the term connotes a special base on which something is placed according to a given purpose. The term ba is also used in physics for 'field' in English.

Let me indicate how these two technical terms can be applied to various actual contexts. Attribute may mean, for instance, being a member of a definite descent group or caste, In contrast, being a member of X village expresses the commonality of frame. Attribute may be acquired not only by birth but by achievement. Frame is more circumstantial. These criteria serve to identify the individuals in a certain group, which can then in its turn be classified within the whole society, even though the group may of may not have a particular function of its own as a collective body. Classifications such as landlord and tenant are based on attribute, while such a unit as a landlord and his tenants is a group formed by situational position. Taking industry as an example, 'lathe operator' or 'executive' refers to attribute, but 'members of Y Company' refers to frame. In the same way, 'professor', 'office clerk' and 'student' are attributes, whereas 'men of Z University' is a frame.

In any society, individuals are gathered into social groups or social strata on the bases of attributes and frame. There may be some cases where the two factors coincide in the formation of a group, but usually they overlap each other, with individuals belonging to different groups at the same time. The primary concern in this discussion is the relative degree of function of each criterion. There are some cases where either the attribute or the frame factor functions alone, and some where the two are mutually competitive. The way in which the factors are commonly weighted bears a close reciprocal relationship to the values which develop in the social consciousness of the people in the society. For example, the group consciousness of the Japanese depends considerably on this immediate social context, frame, whereas in India it lies in attribute (most symbolically expressed in caste, which is fundamentally a social group based on the ideology of occupation and kinship). On this point, perhaps, the societies of Japan and India show the sharpest contrast, as will be discussed later in greater detail.

The ready tendency of the Japanese to stress situational position in a particular frame, rather than universal attribute, can be seen in the following example: when a Japanese 'faces the outside' (confronts another person) and affixes some position to himself socially he is inclined to give precedence to institution over kind of occupation. Rather than saying, 'I am a typesetter' or 'I am a filing clerk', he is likely to say, 'I am from B the Publishing Group' or 'I belong to S Company'. Much depends on context, of course, but where a choice exists, he will use this latter form. (I will discuss later the more significant implications for Japanese social life indicated by this preference.) The listener would rather hear first about the connection with B Publishing Group or S Company; that he is a journalist or printer, engineer or office worker is of secondary importance. When a man says he is from X Television one may imagine him to be a producer or cameraman, though he may in fact be a chauffeur. (The universal business suit makes it hard to judge by appearances.) In group identification, a frame such as a 'company' or 'association' is of primary importance; the attribute of the individual is a secondary matter. The same tendency is to be found among intellectuals: among university graduates, what matters most, and functions the strongest socially, is not whether a man holds or does not hold a PhD but rather from which university he graduated. Thus the criterion by which Japanese classify individuals socially tends to be that of particular institution, rather than of universal attribute. Such group consciousness and orientation fosters the strength of an institution, and the institutional unit (such as school or company) is in fact the basis of Japanese social organization, as will be discussed extensively in Chapter Three. The manner in which this group consciousness works is also revealed in the way the Japanese uses the expression uchi (my house) to mean the place of work, organization, office or school to which he belongs; and otaku (your house) to mean a second person's place of work and so on. The term kaisha symbolizes the expression of group consciousness. Kaisha does not mean that individuals are bound by contractual relationships into a corporate enterprise, while still thinking of themselves as separate entities; rather, kaisha is 'my' or 'our' company, the community to which one belongs primarily, and which is all-important in one's life. Thus in most cases the company provides the whole social existence of a person, and has authority over all aspects of his life; he is deeply emotionally involved in the association.[1] That Company A belongs not to its shareholders, but rather belongs to 'us', is the sort of reasoning involved here, which is carried to such a point that even the modern legal process must compromise in face of this strong native orientation. I would not wish to deny that in other societies an employee may have a kind of emotional attachment to the company or his employer; what distinguishes this relation in Japan is the exceedingly high degree of this emotional involvement. It is openly and frequently expressed in speech and behaviour in public as well as in private, and such expressions always receive social and moral appreciation and approbation.

The essence of this firmly rooted, latent group consciousness in Japanese society is expressed in the traditional and ubiquitous concept of ie, the household, a concept which penetrates every nook and cranny of Japanese society. The Japanese usage uchi-no referring to one's work place indeed derives from the basic concept of ie. The term ie also has implications beyond those to be found in the English words 'household' or 'family'.

The concept of ie, in the guise of the term 'family system', has been the subject of lengthy dispute and discussion by Japanese legal scholars and sociologists. The general consensus is that, as a consequence of modernization, particularly because of the new post-war civil code, the ie institution is dying. In this ideological approach the ie is regarded as being linked particularly with feudal moral precepts; its use as a fundamental unit of social structure has not been fully explored.

In my view, the most basic element of the ie institution is not that form whereby the eldest son and his wife live together with the old parents, nor an authority-structure in which the household head holds the power and so on. Rather, the ie is a corporate residential group and, in the case of agriculture or other similar enterprises, ie is a managing body. The ie comprises household members (in most cases the family members of the household head, but others in addition to family members may be included), who thus make up the units of a distinguishable social group. In other words, the ie is a social group constructed on the basis of an established frame of residence and often of management organization. What is important here is that the human relationships within this household group are thought of as more important than all other human relationships. Thus the wife and daughter-in-law who have come from outside have incomparably greater importance than one's own sisters and daughters, who have married and gone into other households. A brother, when he has built a separate house, is thought of as belonging to another unit or household; on the other hand, the son-in-law, who was once a complete outsider, takes the position of a household member and becomes more important than the brother living in another household. This is remarkably different from societies such as that of India, where the weighty factor of sibling relationship (a relationship based on commonality of attribute, that of being born of the same parents) continues paramount until death, regardless of residential circumstances; theoretically, the stronger the factor of sibling relationship, the weaker the social independence of a household as a residence unit (It goes without saying, of course, that customs such as the adopted son-in-law system prevalent in Japan are non-existent in Hindu society. The same is true of Europe.) These facts support the theory that group-forming criteria based on functioning by attribute oppose group-forming criteria based on functioning by frame.

Naturally, the function of forming groups on the basis of the element of the frame, as demonstrated in the formation of the household, involves the possibility of including members with a differing attribute, and at the same time expelling a member who has the same attribute. This is a regular occurrence, particularly among traditional agricultural and merchant households. Not only may outsiders with not the remotest kinship tie be invited to be heirs and successors but servants and clerks are usually incorporated as members of the household and treated as family members by the head of the household. This inclusion must be accepted without reservation to ensure that when a clerk is married to the daughter of the household and becomes an adopted son-in-law the household succession will continue without disruption.

Such a principle contributes to the weakening of kinship ties. Kinship, the core of which lies in the sibling relation, is a criterion based on attribute. Japan gives less weight to kinship than do other societies, even England; in fact, the function of kinship is comparatively weak outside the household. The saying 'the sibling is the beginning of the stranger' accurately reflects Japanese ideas on kinship. A married sibling who lives in another household is considered a kind of outsider. Towards such kin, duties and obligations are limited to the level of the seasonal exchange of greetings and presents, attendance at wedding and funeral ceremonies and the minimum help in case of accident or poverty. There are often instances where siblings differ widely in social and economic status; the elder brother may be the mayor, while his younger brother is a postman in the same city; or a brother might be a lawyer or businessman, while his widowed sister works as a domestic servant in another household. The wealthy brother normally does not help the poor brother or sister, who has set up a separate household, as long as the latter can somehow support his or her existence; by the same token, the latter will not dare to ask for help until the last grain of rice has gone. Society takes this for granted, for it gives prime importance to the individual household rather than to the kin group as a whole.

This is indeed radically different from the attitude to kin found in India and other south east Asian countries, where individual wealth tends to be distributed among relatives; here the kin group as a whole takes precedence over the individual household and nepotism plays an important role. I have been surprised to discover that even in England and America, brothers and sisters meet much more frequently than is required by Japanese standards, and that there exists such a high degree of attachment to kinfolk. Christmas is one of the great occasions when these kinfolk gather together; New Year's Day is Japan's equivalent to the western Christmas, everyone busy with preparations for visits from subordinate staff, and then, in turn, calling on superiors. There is little time and scope to spare for collateral kin ― married brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts and so on ― though parents and grandparents will certainly be visited if they do not live in the same house. Even in rural areas, people say 'One's neighbour is of more importance than one's relatives' or 'You can carry on your life without cousins, but not without your neighbours'.

The kinship which is normally regarded as the primary and basic human attachment seems to be compensated in Japan by a personalized relation to a corporate group based on work, in which the major aspects of social and economic life are involved. Here again we meet the vitally important unit in Japanese society of the corporate group based on frame. In my view, this is the basic principle on which Japanese society is built.

To sum up, the principles of Japanese social group structure can be seen clearly portrayed in the household structure. The concept of this traditional household institution, ie, still persists in the various group identities which are termed uchi, a colloquial form of ie. These facts demonstrate that the formation of social groups on the basis of fixed frames remains characteristic of Japanese social structure.

Among groups larger than the household, there is that described by the medieval concept, ichizoku-rōtō (one family group and its retainers). The idea of group structure as revealed in this expression is an excellent example of the frame-based social group. This is indeed the concept of one household, in which family members and retainers are not separated but form an integrated corporate group. There are often marriage ties between the two sides of this corporate group, and all lines of distinction between them become blurred. The relationship is the same as that between family members and clerks or servants in a household. This is a theoretical antithesis to a group formed exclusively on lineage or kin.

The equivalent in modern society of ie and ichizoku-rōtō is a group such as 'One Railway Family' (kokutetsu-ikka), which signifies the Japanese National Railways. A union, incorporating both workers and management, calls this 'management-labour harmony'. Though it is often said that the traditional family (ie) institution has disappeared, the concept of the ie still persists in modern contexts. A company is conceived as an ie, all its employees qualifying as members of the household, with the employer at its head. Again this 'family' envelops the employee's personal family; it 'engages' him 'totally' (marugakae in Japanese). The employer readily takes responsibility for his employee's family, for which, in turn, the primary concern is the company, rather than relatives who reside elsewhere. (The features relating the company with its employees' families will be discussed later, pp. 14-15.) In this modern context, the employee's family, which normally comprises the employee himself, his wife and children, is a unit which can no longer be conceived as an ie, but simply a family. The unit is comparable to the family of a servant or clerk who worked in the master's ie, the managing body of the pre-modern enterprise. The role of the ie institution as the distinct unit in society in pre-modern times is now played by the company. This social group consciousness symbolized in the concept of the ie, of being one unit within a frame, has been achievable at any time, has been promoted by slogans and justified in the traditional morality.

This analysis calls for a reconsideration of the stereotyped view that modernization or urbanization weakens kinship ties, and creates a new type of social organization on entirely different bases. Certainly industrialization produces a new type of organization, the formal structure of which may be closely akin to that found in modern western societies. However, this does not necessarily accord with changes in the informal structure, in which, as in the case of Japan, the traditional structure persists in large measure. This demonstrates that the basic social structure continues in spite of great changes in social organization.[2]

2. Emotional participation and one-to-one-relationships

It is clear from the previous section that social groups constructed with particular reference to situation, i.e. frame, include members with differing attributes. A group formed on the basis of commonality of attribute can possess a strong sense of exclusiveness, based on this homogeneity, even without recourse to any form of law. Naturally, the relative strength of this factor depends on a variety of conditional circumstances, but in the fundamentals of group formation this homogeneity among group members stands largely by its own strength, and conditions are secondary. When a group develops on the situational basis of frame the primary form is a simple herd which in itself does not possess internal positive elements which can constitute a social group. Constituent elements of the group in terms of their attributes may be heterogenous but may not be complementary. (The discussion here does not link with Durkheimian Theory as such; the distinction is between societies where people stick together because they are similar and those where they stick together because they are complementary.) For example, a group of houses built in the same area may form a village simply by virtue of physical demarcation from other houses. But in order to create a functional corporate group, there is need of an internal organization which will link these independent households. In such a situation some sort of law must be evolved to guide group coherence.

In addition to the initial requirement of a strong, enduring frame, there is need to strengthen the frame even further and to make the group element tougher. Theoretically, this can be done in two ways. One is to influence the members within the frame in such a way that they have a feeling of 'one-ness'; the second method is to create an internal organization which will tie the individuals in the group to each other and then to strengthen this organization. In practice, both these modes occur together, are bound together and progress together; they become, in fact, one common rule of action, but for the sake of convenience I shall discuss them separately. In this section I discuss the feeling of unity; in the following chapter I shall consider internal organization.

People with different attributes can be led to feel that they are members of the same group, and that this feeling is justified, by stressing the group consciousness of 'us' against 'them', i.e. the external, and by fostering a feeling of rivalry against other similar groups. In this way there develops internally the sentimental tie of 'members of the same troop'.

Since disparity of attribute is a rational thing, an emotional approach is used to overcome it. This emotional approach is facilitated by continual human contact of the kind that can often intrude on those human relations which belong to the completely private and personal sphere. Consequently, the power and influence of the group not only affects and enters into the individual's actions; it alters even his ideas and ways of thinking. Individual autonomy is minimized. When this happens, the point where group or public life ends and where private life begins no longer can be distinguished. There are those who perceive this as a danger, an encroachment on their dignity as individuals; on the other hand, others feel safer in total group-consciousness. There seems little doubt that the latter group is in the majority. Their sphere of living is usually concentrated solely within the village community or the place of work. The Japanese regularly talk about their homes and love affairs with co-workers; marriage within the village community or place of work is prevalent; the family frequently participates in company pleasure trips. The provision of company housing, a regular practice among Japan's leading enterprises, is a good case in point. Such company houses are usually concentrated in a single area and form a distinct entity within, say, a suburb of a large city. In such circumstances employees' wives come into close contact with and are well informed about their husbands' activities. Thus, even in terms of physical arrangements, a company with its employees and their families forms a distinct social group. In an extreme case, a company may have a common grave for its employees, similar to the household grave. With group-consciousness so highly developed there is almost no social life outside the particular group on which an individual's major economic life depends. The individual's every problem must be solved within this frame. Thus group participation is simple and unitary. It follows then that each group or institution developes a high degree of independence and closeness, with its own internal law which is totally binding on members.

The archetype of this kind of group is the Japanese 'household' (ie) as we have described it in the previous section. In Japan, for example, the mother-in-law and daugther-in-law problem is preferably solved inside the household, and the luckless bride has to struggle through in isolation, without help from her own family, relatives or neighbours. By comparison, in agricultural villages in India not only can the bride make long visits to her parental home but her brother may frequently visit her and help out in various ways. Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law quarrels are conducted in raised voices that can be heard all over the neighbourhood, and when such shouting is heard all the women (of the same caste) in the neighbourhood come over to help out. The mutual assistance among the wives who come from other villages is a quite enviable factor completely unimaginable among Japanese women. Here again the function of the social factor of attribute (wife) is demonstrated; it supersedes the function of the frame of the household. In Japan, by contrast, 'the parents step in when their children quarrel' and, as I shall explain in detail later, the structure is the complete opposite to that in India.

Moral ideas such as 'the husband leads and the wife obeys' or 'man and wife are one flesh' embody the Japanese emphasis on integration. Among Indians, however, I have often observed husband and wife expressing quite contradictory opinions without the slightest hesitation. This is indeed rare in front of others in Japan. The traditional authority of the Japanese household head, once regarded as the prime characteristic of the family system, extended over the conduct, ideas and ways of thought of the household's members, and on this score the household head could be said to wield a far greater power than his Indian counterpart. In Indian family life there are all kinds of rules that apply in accordance with the status of the individual family member: the wife, for instance, must not speak directly to her husband's elder brothers, father, etc. These rules all relate to individual behaviour, but in the sphere of ideas and ways of thought the freedom and strong individuality permitted even among members of the same family is surprising to a Japanese. The rules, moreover, do not differ from household to household, but are common to the whole community, and especially among the members of the same caste community. In other words, the rules are of universal character, rather than being situational or particular to each household, as is the case in Japan.[3] Compared with traditional Japanese family life, the extent to which members of an Indian household are bound by the individual household's traditional practices is very small.

An Indian who had been studying in Japan for many years once compared Japanese and Indian practice in the following terms:

Why does a Japanese have to consult his companions over even the most trivial matter? The Japanese always call a conference about the slightest thing, and hold frequent meetings, though these are mostly informal, to decide everything. In India, we have definite rules as family members (and this is also true of other social groups), so that when one wants to do something one knows whether it is all right by instantaneous reflection on those rules ― it is not necessary to consult with the head or with other members of the family. Outside these rules, you are largely free to act as an individual; whatever you do, you have only to ask whether or not it will run counter to the rules.

As this clearly shows, in India 'rules' are regarded as a definite but abstract social form, not as a concrete and individualized form particular to each family/social group as is the case in Japan. The individuality of the Indian family unit is not strong, nor is there group participation by family members of the order of the emotional participation in the Japanese household; nor is the family as a living unit (or as a group holding communal property) a closed community as in the case of the Japanese household. Again, in contrast to Japanese practice, the individual in India is strongly tied to the social network outside his household.

In contrast to the Japanese system, the Indian system allows freedom in respect of ideas and ways of thought as opposed to conduct. I believe for this reason, even though there are economic and ethical restrictions on the modernization of society, the Indian does not see his traditional family system as an enemy of progress to such a degree as the Japanese does. This view may contradict that conventionally held by many people on the Indian family. It is important to note that the comparison here is made between Japanese and Hindu systems focused on actual interpersonal relationships within the family or household, rather than between western and Indian family patterns in a general outlook. I do not intend here to present the structure and workings of actual personal relations in Japanese and Hindu families in detail, but the following point would be of some help in indicating my thesis. In the ideal traditional household in Japan, for example, opinions of the members of the household should always be held unanimously regardless of the issue, and this normally meant that all members accepted the opinion of the household head, without even discussing the issue. An expression of a contradictory opinion to that of the head was considered a sign of misbehavior, disturbing the harmony of the group order. Contrasted to such a unilateral process of decision making in the Japanese household, the Indian counterpart allows much room for discussion between its members; they, whether sons, wife or even daughters, are able to express their views much more freely and they in fact can enjoy a discussion, although the final decision may be taken by the head. Hindu family structure is similar hierarchically to the Japanese family, but the individual's rights are well preserved in it. In the Japanese system all members of the household are in one group under the head, with no specific rights according to the status of individuals within the family. The Japanese family system differs from that of the Chinese system, where family ethics are always based on relationships between particular individuals such as father and son, brothers and sisters, parent and child, husband and wife, while in Japan they are always based on the collective group, i.e. members of a household, not on the relationships between individuals.

The Japanese system naturally produces much more frustration in the members of lower status in the hierarchy; and allows the head to abuse the group or an individual member. In Japan, especially immediately after the second world war, the idea has gained ground that the family system (ie) was an evil, feudalistic growth obstructing modernization, and on this premise one could point out the evil uses to which the unlimited infiltration of the household head's authority were put. It should be noticed here, however, that although the power of each individual household head is often regarded as exclusively his own, in fact it is the social group, the 'household', which has the ultimate integrating power, a power which restricts each member's behaviour and thought, including that of the household head himself.

Another group characteristic portrayed in the Japanese household can be seen when a business enterprise is viewed as a social group. In this instance a closed social group has been organized on the basis of the 'life-time employment system' and the work made central to the employees' lives. The new employee is in just about the same position and is, in fact, received by the company in much the same spirit as if he were a newly born family member, a newly adopted son-in-law or a bride come into the husband's household. A number of well-known features peculiar to the Japanese employment system illustrate this characteristic, for example, company housing, hospital benefits, family recreation groups for employees, monetary gifts from the company on the occasion of marriage, birth or death and even advice from the company's consultant on family planning. What is interesting here is that this tendency is very obvious even in the most forward-looking, large enterprises or in supposedly modern, advanced management. The concept is even more evident in Japan's basic payment system, used by every industrial enterprise and government organization,in which the family allowance is the essential element. This is also echoed in the principle of the seniority payment system.

The relationship between employer and employee is not to be explained in contractual terms. The attitude of the employer is expressed by the spirit of the common saying, 'the enterprise is the people'. This affirms the belief that employer and employee are bound as one by fate in conditions which produce a tie between man and man often as firm and close as that between husband and wife. Such a relationship is manifiestly not a purely contractual one between employer and employee; the employee is already a member of his own family, and all members of his family are naturally included in the larger company 'family'. Employers do not employ only a man's labour itself but really employ the total man, as is shown in the expression marugakae (completely enveloped). This trend can be traced consistently in Japanese management from the Meiji period to the present.

The life-time employment system, characterized by the integral and lasting commitment between employee and employer, contrasts sharply with the high mobility of the worker in the United States. It has been suggested that this system develops from Japan's economic situation and is closely related to the surplus of labour. However, as J. C. Abegglen has suggested in his penetrating analysis,[4] the immobility of Japanese labour is not merely an economic problem. That it is also closely related to the nature of Japanese social structure will become evident from my discussion. In fact, Japanese labour relations in terms of surplus and shortage of labour have least affected the life-time employment system. Indeed, these contradictory situations have together contributed to the development of the system.

It might be appropriate at this point to give a brief description of the history of the development of the life-time employment system in Japan. In the early days of Japan's industrialization, there was a fairly high rate of movement of factory workers from company to company, just as some specific type of workmen or artisans of pre-industrial urban Japan had moved freely from job to job. Such mobility in some workers in pre-industrial and early industrial Japan seems to be attributed to the following reasons: a specific type of an occupation, the members of which consisted of a rather small percentage of the total working population and the demand for them was considerably high; these workers were located in a situation outside well established institutionalized systems. The mobility of factory workers caused uncertainty and inconvenience to employers in their efforts to retain a constant labour force. To counteract this fluidity, management policy gradually moved in the direction of keeping workers in the company for their entire working lives, rather than towards developing a system based on contractual arrangements. By the beginning of this century larger enterprises were already starting to develop management policies based on this principle; they took the form of various welfare benefits, company houses at nominal rent, commissary purchasing facilities and the like. This trend became particularly marked after the first world war when the shortage of labour was acute.

It was also at the end of the first world war that there came into practice among large companies the regular employment system by which a company takes on each spring a considerable number of boys who have just left school. This development arose from the demand for company-trained personnel adapted to the mechanized production systems that followed the introduction of new types of machinery from Germany and the United States. Boys fresh from school were the best potential labour force for mechanized industy because they were more easily moulded to suit a company's requirements. They were trained by the company not only technically but also morally. In Japan it has always been believed that individual moral and mental attitudes have an important bearing on productive power. Loyalty towards the company has been highly regarded. A man may be an excellent technician, but if his way of thought and his moral attitudes do not accord with the company's ideal the company does not hesitate to dismiss him. Men who move in from another company at a comparatively advanced stage in their working life tend to be considered difficult to mould or suspect in their loyalties. Ease of training, then, was the major reason why recruitment of workers was directed more and more towards boys fresh from school.[5]

Recruitment methods thus paved the way for the development of the life-employment system. An additional device was evolved to hold workers to a company, for example, the seniority payment system based on duration of service, age and educational qualifications, with the added lure of a handsome payment on retirement. The principle behind this seniority system had the advantage of being closely akin to the traditional pattern of commercial and agricultural mangement in pre-industrial Japan. In these old-style enterprises operational size had been relatively small ― one household or a group of affiliated households centred on one particular household, the head of which acted as employer while his family members and affiliated members or servants acted as permanent employees. Thus the pattern of employment in a modern industrial enterprise has close structural and ideological links with traditional household management.

The shift towards life-employment was assisted in the second and third decades of this century by developments in the bureaucratic structure of business enterprises: a proliferation of sections was accompanied by finer gradings in official rank. During these twenty years there appeared uniforms for workers, badges (lapel buttons) worn as company insignia and stripes on the uniform cap to indicate section and rank. Workers thus came under a more rigid institutional hierarchy, but they were also given greater incentives by the expectation of climbing the delicately subdivided ladder of rank.

During the war this system was strengthened further by the adoption of a military pattern. Labour immobility was reinforced by government policy, which cut short the trend to increased mobility that had been the result of the acute shortage of labour. The prohibition on movement of labour between factories was bolstered by the moral argument that it was through concentrated service to his own factory that a worker could best serve the nation. The factory was to be considered as a household or family, in which the employer would and should care for both the material and mental life of his worker and the latter's family. According to the 'Draft of Labour Regulations' (Munitions Public Welfare Ministry Publication, February 1945):

The factory, by its production, becomes the arena for putting into practice the true aims of Imperial labour. The people who preserve these aims become the unifiers of labour. Superior and inferior should help each other, those who are of the same rank should co-operate and, with a fellowship as of one family, we shall combine labour and management.

Thus the factory's household-like function came about, in part, at the behest of state authority. In this context, a moral and patriotic attitude was regarded as more important than technical proficiency. Against shortages in the commodity market, the factory undertook to supply rice, vegetables, clothing, lodging accommodation, medical care, etc.

Familialism, welfare services and extra payments supplied by the company were thus fully developed under the peculiar circumstances of war, and have been retained as the institutional pattern in the post-war years. It is also to be noted that the process was further encouraged by post-war union activity. Unions mushroomed after the war, when 48,OOO unions enrolled 9,OOO,OOO members. These unions were formed primarily within a single company and encompassed members of different types of occupation and qualification, both staff and line workers. It is said that, in some aspects, a union is like the wartime Industrial Patriotism Club (Sangyō-hōkoku-kai), lacking only the company president. Thus it can serve as part of the basis of familialism. The establishment of welfare facilities, company housing schemes, recreation centres at seaside or hill resorts, etc., are all items demanded by the unions along with wage increases. Above all, the single most important union success was the gaining of the right of appeal against summary dismissal or lay-off. In the period immediately after the war dismissal meant starvation; this, together with the swiftly increasing power of the union movement, accounts for the unions' success in acquiring this tremendous privilege. Thus life employment, a policy initiated by management, has reached its perfected form through the effect of post-war unionism. Again, to combat the shortage of younger workers and highly trained engineers which is felt so acutely today, management policy is moving further towards attempts at retaining labour by the offer of more beneficial provisions.

As it has shown in the course of its development, life-time employment has advantages for both employer and employee. For the employer it serves to retain the services of skilled workers against times of labour shortage. For the employee it gives security against surplus labour conditions; whatever the market circumstances, there is little likelihood of the employee finding better employment if he once leaves his job. This system has, in fact, been encouraged by contradictory situations ― shortage and surplus of labour. Here is demonstrated a radical divergence between Japan and America in management employment policy; a Japanese employer buys future potential labour and an American employer buys labour immediately required. According to the Japanese reasoning, any deficiencies in the current labour force will be compensated by the development of maximum power in the labour force of the future; the employer buys his labour material and shapes it until it best fits his production need. In America management buys ready-made labour.

Familialism, another offspring of the operational mechanism of modern industrial enterprise, is the twin to life employment. Attention has already been drawn (see p. 7) to the concept of 'The One Railway Family' which was advocated as early as 1909 by then then president of the National Railways, Gotō Shinpei. The concept was strengthened during the war years, and it has appeared in such favourite slogans of post-war management as 'the spirit of love for the company' and 'the new familialism'. According to so-called modern and advanced management theory, a genuinely inspired 'spirit of love for the company' is not merely advocated, but is indeed an atmosphere resulting from management policy, so that 'whether the feeling of love for the company thrives of not is the barometer of the abilities and talents of management staff'. Even in the coining of expressions which may seem antithetical ― 'we must love our company' and 'the spirit of love for the company is silly' ― the underlying motivation remains the securing of the employee's total emotional participation.

In summary, the characteristics of Japanese enterprise as a social group are, first, that the group is itself family-like and, second, that it pervades even the private lives of its employees, for each family joins extensively in the enterprise. These characteristics have been cautiously encouraged by managers and administrators consistently from the Meiji period. And the truth is that this encouragement has always succeeded and reaped rewards.

A cohesive sense of group unity, as demonstrated in the operational mechanism of household and enterprise, is essential as the foundation of the individual's total emotional participation in the group; it helps to build a closed world and results in strong group independence or isolation. This inevitably breeds household customs and company traditions. These in turn are emphasized in mottoes which bolster the sense of unity and group solidarity, and strengthen the group even more. At the same time, the independence of the group and the stability of the frame, both cultivated by this sense of unity, create a gulf between the group and others with similar attributes but outside the frame; meanwhile, the distance between people with differing attributes within the frame is narrowed and the functioning of any group formed on the base of similar attributes is paralysed. Employees in an enterprise must remain in the group, whether they like it or not: not only do they not want to change to another company; even if they desire a change, they lack the means to accomplish it. Because there is no tie between workers of the same kind, as in a 'horizontal' craft union, they get neither information nor assistance from their counterparts. (This situation is identical with that of the Japanese married-in bride as described above.) Thus, in this type of social organization, as society grows more stable, the consciousness of similar qualities becomes weaker and, conversely, the consciousness of the difference between 'our people' and 'outsiders' is sharpened.

The consciousness of 'them' and 'us' is strengthened and aggravated to the point that extreme contrasts in human relations can develop in the same society, and anyone outside 'our' people ceases to be considered human. Ridiculous situations occur, such as that of the man who will shove a stranger out of the way to take an empty seat, but will then, no matter how tired he is, give up the seat to someone he knows, particularly if that someone is a superior in his company.

An extreme example of this attitude in group behaviour is the Japanese people's amazing coldness (which is not a matter just of indifference, but rather of active hostility), the contempt and neglect they will show for the people of an outlying island, or for those living in the 'special' buraku (formerly a segregated social group now legally equal but still discriminated against). Here the complete estrangement of people outside 'our' world is institutionalized. In India there is a lower-class group known as 'untouchables', but although at first glance the Indian attitude towards a different caste appears to resemble Japanese behaviour, it is not really so. The Indian does not have the sharp distinction of 'them' and 'us' between two different groups. Among the various Indian groups, A, B, C, etc., one man happens to belong to A, while another is of B; A, B, C, and so forth together form one society. His group A constitutes part of the whole, while, to the Japanese, 'our' is opposed to the whole world. The Indian's attitude towards people of other groups stems from indifference rather than hostility.

These characteristics of group formation reveal that Japanese group affiliations and human relations are exclusively one-to-one: a single loyalty stands uppermost and firm. There are many cases of membership of more than one group, of course, but in these cases there is always one group that is clearly preferred while the others are considered secondary. By contrast, the Chinese, for example, find it impossible to decide which group is the most important of several. So long as the groups differ in nature, the Chinese see no contradiction and think it perfectly natural to belong to several groups at once. But a Japanese would say of such a case, 'That man is sticking his nose into something else,' and this saying carries with it moral censure. The fact that Japanese pride themselves on this viewpoint and call it fastidiousness is once again very Japanese. The saying 'No man can serve two masters' is wholeheartedly subscribed to by the Japanese. In body-and-soul emotional participation there is no room for serving two masters. Thus, an individual or a group has always one single distinctive relation to the other. This kind of ideal is also manifested in the relationship between the master and his disciple, including the teacher and student today. For a Japanese scholar, the person he calls his teacher (master) is always one particular senior scholar, and he is recognized as belonging linearly to the latter. For him to approach another scholar in competition with his teacher is felt as a betrayal of his teacher, and is particularly unbearable for his teacher. In contrast, for the Chinese it is the traditional norm to have several teachers in one's life and one can learn freely from all of them in spite of the fact that they are in competition.

Thus, in Japanese society not only is the individual's group affiliation one-to-one but, in addition, the ties binding individuals together are also one-to-one. This characteristic single bond in social relationships is basic to the ideals of the various groups within the whole society. The ways in which interpersonal relations reflect this one-to-one linkage will be discussed at length in the next chapter.


Chapter Two:
The Internal Structure of the Group

In the foregoing discussion it has been shown that a group where membership is based on the situational position of individuals within a common frame tends to become a closed world. Inside it, a sense of unity is promoted by means of the members' total emotional participation, which further strengthens group solidarity. In general, such groups share a common structure, an internal organization by which the members are tied vertically into a delicately graded order.

Before I outline my analysis of this structure of internal organization I propose a set of effective concepts as the analytical basis of the following discussion. In abstract terms, the essential types of human relations can be divided, according to the ways in which ties are organized, into two categories: vertical and horizontal. These two categories are of a linear kind. This basic concept can be applied to various kinds of personal relations. For example, the parent-child relation is vertical, the sibling relation is horizontal; the superior-inferior relation is vertical, as opposed to the horizontal colleague relation. Both are important primary factors in relationships and constitute the core of a group's structure. It can be seen that, depending on the society, one has at times a more important function than the other and at times the two factors function equally.

If we postulate a social group embracing members with varoius [sic] different attributes, the method of tying together the constituent members will be based on the vertical relation. In other words vertical systems would link A and B who are different in quality. In contrast, a horizontal tie would be established between X and Y, who are of the same quality. When individuals having a certain attribute in common form a group the horizontal relationship functions by reason of this common quality. Theoretically, the horizontal tie between those of the same stratum functions in the development of caste and class, while the vertical tie functions in forming the cluster within which the upper-lower hierarchical order becomes more pronounced.

Let me illustrate these contrasting modes of social configuration with a simple example. A man is employed in a particular occupation and is also a member of a village community. In theory he belongs to two kinds of groups: the one, of his occupation (attribute) and the other of the village (frame). When the function of the former is the stronger an effective occupational group is formed which cuts across several villages; thus there is formed a distinct horizontal stratum which renders proportionally weaker the degree of coherence of the village community. By contrast, where the coherence of the village community is unusually strong, the links between members of the occupational group are weakened and, in extreme cases, the village unit may create deep divisions among members of the occupational group. This is a prominent and persistent tendency in Japanese society, representing a social configuration contrasting with that of Hindu caste society. For Japanese peasants, a village (local group) has been always the distinct group to which their primary membership was attached. In the Middle Ages when a large Buddhist temple formed a functional community embracing people of various occupations besides peasants belonging to its estate, it functioned as a kind of self-sufficient group, in which each occupational group was accommodated without functional linkage with any similar group outside the community. For example, carpenters of X temple rarely moved to another temple community and the situation was exactly similar to an occupational group in a modern institution. Throughout Japanese history, occupational groups, such as a guild, cross-cutting various local groups and institutions have been much less developed in comparison with those of China, India and the west. It should be also remembered that a trade union in Japan is always formed primarily by the institution, such as a company, and includes members of various kinds of qualifications and specialities, such as factory workers, office clerks and engineers.

In such a society a functional group consists always of heterogeneous elements, and the principle by which these elements are linked is always dominated by the vertical order. Certainly, in both kinds of social configuration, there exists a hierarchical order in the alignment of various groups. But when each occupational group is formed in such a way as to cut across various institutions it comes to possess an autonomy and strength which enable it to compete with other groups. In such a situation it is important that the ideology of the division of labour be sufficiently developed to counteract or balance the hierarchical ideology. However, when an occupational group of only small numbers exists within an institutional group, its members isolated from their fellows in other groups, there is a tendency for the hierarchical order to dominate the group and for the autonomy of the occupational group to diminish; the small, isolated segments become subject to the workings of the institutional group of which they form part. The result is the emergence of the vertical order in group organization.

1. The development of ranking

The vertical relation which we predicted in theory from the ideals of social group formation in Japan becomes the actuating principle in creating cohesion among group members. Because of the overwhelming ascendancy of this vertical orientation, even a set of individuals sharing identical qualifications tends to create a difference among these individuals. As this is reinforced, an amazingly delicate and intricate system of ranking takes shape.

There are numerous examples of this ranking process. Among lathe operators with the same qualifications there exist differences of rank based on relative age, year of entry into the company or length of continuous service; among professors at the same college, rank can be assessed by the formal date of appointment; among commissioned officers in the former Japanese army the differences between ranks were very great, and it is said that even among second lieutenants distinct ranking was made on the basis of order of appointment. Among diplomats, there is a very wide gulf between first secretary and second secretary; within each grade there are informal ranks of senior and junior according to the year when the foreign service examination was passed.

This ranking-consciousness is not limited merely to official groups but is to be found also among writers and actors, that is, groups which are supposed to be engaged in work based on individual ability and should not therefore be bound by any institutional system. A well-known novelist, on being given one of the annual literary prizes, said, 'It is indeed a great honour for me. I am rather embarrassed to receive the award while some of my sempai (predecessors or elders) have not yet got it.' Sempai meant for him those whose careers began and who achieved fame and popularity some time before he himself achieved them. Another example of the same sort is to be found in the statement made by an actress who had had great success in a film. On account of this success, she demanded that her company increase her guaranteed payment: 'I would like my present guaranteed payment (Y500,000) to be doubled. I think I am entitled to it, because actress Y is getting more than Y1,000,000 in spite of her being kōhai (junior: having started her career later) and younger than I. I have been an actress in this company for more than eight years now, you know.' For the Japanese the established ranking order (based on duration of service within the same group and on age, rather than on individual ability) is overwhelmingly important in fixing the social order and measuring individual social values.

A Japanese finds his world clearly divided into three categories, sempai (seniors), kōhai (juniors) and dōryō. Dōryō, meaning 'one's colleagues', refers only to those with the same rank, not to all who do the same type of work in the same office or on the same shop floor; even among dōryō, differences in age, year of entry or of graduation from school or college contribute to a sense of sempai and kōhai. These three categories would be subsumed under the single term 'colleagues' in other societies.

This categorization is demonstrated in the three methods of addressing a second or third person; for example, Mr Tanaka may be addressed as Tanaka-san, Tanaka-kun Or Tanaka (i.e. without suffix). San is used for sempai, kun for kōhai and the name without suffix is reserved for dōryō.[6] The last form is comparable with the English usage of addressing by the Christian name.[7] But the use of this form is carefully restricted to those who are vey close to oneself. Even among dōryō, san is used towards those with whom one is not sufficiently familiar, while kun is used between those closer than those addressed by san, former class-mates, for example. A relationship which permits of address by surname only is of a specifically familiar nature, not unlike the French usage of tu. Therefore, a man may also address very intimate kōhai in this way, but these kōhai will use the san form of address to him. In the case of professionals, within thiS pattern, a sempai is addressed as sensei instead of san, sensei being the higher honorific term, used of teachers by their students, and also of profesionals by the general public.

It is important to note that this usage of terms of address, once determined by relationships in the earlier stages of a man's life or career, remains unchanged for the rest of his life. Let us imagine, for example, the case of X, once a student of Y, who, fifteen years afterwards, becomes a professor in the same department as Y and thus acquires equal status. X still addresses Y as sensei and will not refer to him as dōryō (colleague) to a third person. Y may address X as kun, treating him, that is, as kōhai, even in front of X's students or outsiders: Y has to be most broad-minded and sociable to address X as sensei in such a context (i.e. the English usage of Dr or Professor).

It may also be that when X is well known, but Y is not, Y may intentionally address X as kun in public in order to indicate that 'he is superior to X, X is only his kōhai'. It is the general tendency to indicate one's relatively higher status; this practice derives from the fact that the ranking order is perceived as ego-centred. Once established, vertical ranking functions as the charter of the social order, so that whatever the change in an individual's status, popularity or fame, there is a deeply ingrained reluctance to ignore or change the established order.

The relative rankings are thus centred on ego and everyone is placed in a relative locus within the firmly established vertical system. Such a system works against the formation of distinct strata within a group, which, even if it consists of homogeneous members in terms of qualification, tends to be organized according to hierarchical order. In this kind of society ranking becomes far more important than any differences in the nature of the work, or of status group. Even among those with the same training, qualifications or status, differences based on rank are always perceptible, and because the individuals concerned are deeply aware of the existence of such distinctions, these tend to overshadow and obscure even differences of occupation, status or class.

The precedence of elder over younger (chō-yō-no-jo) reflects the well-known moral ethic which was imported from China at a comparatively early stage in Japan's history. However, the Japanese application of this concept in actual life seems to have been somewhat different from that of the Chinese. An interesting example illustrates this discrepancy. When six Chinese shōgi (chess) players came to Japan recently to play against the Japanese, one thing that struck Japanese observers was the ranking order of the six players. In the account of their arrival carried by Asahishimbun, one of the leading Japanese daily newspapers, it was reported that Mr Wan, aged 17, the youngest of the six, stood fourth in order at the welcoming ceremony at Haneda Airport, and again at the reception party in Tokyo. The reporter went on to observe,

If we regard them according to the Japanese way of according precedence, Mr Wan, who is the youngest of them all and holds only nidan (second rank), should occupy the last seat in place of Mr Tsen, who though the eldest in years now takes the lowest place. They, however, take as the basis for position the order which resulted from the last title-match standings.

The Chinese are not always as conscious of order (seniority and rank, that is) as are the Japanese; they limit the effectiveness of seniority or rank to certain activities or situations and eliminate it from others. From what I have been able to observe, although the Chinese always appreciate manners which show respect towards those in a senior position, senior and junior might well stand on an equal footing in certain circumstances. The Chinese are able to readjust the order, or work according to a ranking established by a different criterion, by merit, for example, if the latter suits the circumstances.

In Japan once rank is established on the basis of seniority, it is applied to all circumstances, and to a great extent controls social life and individual activity. Seniority and merit are the principal criteria for the establishment of a social order; every society employs these criteria, although the weight given to each may differ according to social circumstances. In the west merit is given considerable importance, while in Japan the balance goes the other way. In other words, in Japan, in contrast to other societies, the provisions for recognition of merit are weak, and institutionalization of the social order has been effected largely by means of seniority; this is the more obvious criterion, assuming an equal ability in individuals entering the same kind of service.

The system of ranking by seniority is a simpler and more stable mechanism than the merit system, since, once it is set, it works automatically without need of any form of regulation or check. But at the same time this system brings with it a high degree of rigidity. There is only one ranking order for a given set of persons, regardless of variety of situation. No individual members of this set (not even the man who ranks highest) can make even a partial change. The only means of effecting change is by some drastic event which affects the principle of the order, or by the disintegration of the group.

It is because of this rigidity and stability that are produced by ranking that the latter functions as the principal controlling factor of social relations in Japan. The basic orientation of the social order permeates every aspect of society, far beyond the limits of the institutionalized group. This ranking order, in effect, regulates Japanese life.

In everyday affairs a man who has no awareness of relative rank is not able to speak or even sit and eat. When speaking, he is expected always to be ready with differentiated, delicate degrees of honorific expressions appropriate to the rank order between himself and the person he addresses. The expressions and the manner appropriate to a superior are never to be used to an inferior. Even among colleagues, it is only possible to dispense with honorifics when both parties are very intimate friends. In such contexts the English language is inadequate to supply appropriate equivalents. Behaviour and language are intimately interwoven in Japan.

The ranking order within a given institution affects not only the members of that institution but through them it affects the establishment of relations between persons from different institutions when they meet for the first time. On such occasions the first thing that the Japanese do is exchange name cards. This act has crucial social implications. Not only do name cards give information about the name (and the characters with which it is written) and the address; their more important function is to make clear the title, the position and the institution of the person who dispenses them. It is considered proper etiquette for a man to read carefully what is printed on the card, and to adjust his behavior, mode of address and so on in accordance with the information it gives him. By exchanging cards, both parties can gauge the relationship between them in terms of relative rank, locating each other within the known order of their society.[8] Only after this is done are they able to speak with assurance, since, before they can do so, they must be sure of the degree of honorific content and politeness they must put into their words.

In the west there are also certain codes which differentiate appropriate behaviour according to the nature of the relation between the speaker and the second person. But in Japan the range of differentiation is much wider and more elaborate, and delicate codification is necessary to meet each context and situation. I was asked one day by a French journalist who had just arrived in Tokyo to explain why a man changes his manner, depending upon the person he is addressing, to such a degree that the listener can hardly believe him to be the same speaker. This Frenchman had observed that even the voice changes (which could well be true, since he had no knowledge of Japanese and so was unable to notice the use of differentiating honorific words; he sensed the difference only from variations in sound).

Certainly there are personal differences in the degree to which people observe the rules of propriety, and there are also differences related to the varying situations in which they are in- volved, with the result that the examples I have quoted may be felt to be rather extreme. Some flaunt their higher status by haughtiness towards inferiors and excessive modesty towards superiors; others may prefer to conceal haughtiness, remaining modest even towards inferiors, a manner which is appreciated by the latter and may result in greater benefit to the superior. And some are simply less conscious of the order of rank, although these would probably account for only a rather small percentage.

But whatever the variations in individual behaviour, awareness of rank is deeply rooted in Japanese social behaviour. In describing an individual's personality, a Japanese will normally derive his objective criteria from a number of social patterns currently established. Institutional position and title constitute one of the major criteria, while a man's individual qualities tend to be overlooked.

Without consciousness of ranking, life could not be carried on smoothly in Japan, for rank is the social norm on which Japanese life is based. In a traditional Japanese house the arrangement of a room manifests this gradation of rank and clearly prescribes the ranking differences which are to be observed by those who use it. The highest seat is always at the centre backed by the tokonoma (alcove), where a painted scroll is hung and flowers are arranged; the lowest seat is nearest the entrance to the room. This arrangement never allows two or more individuals to be placed as equals. Whatever the nature of the gathering, those present will eventually establish a satisfactory order among themselves, after each of them has shown the necessary preliminaries of the etiquette of self-effacement. Status, age, popularity, sex, etc., are elements which contribute to the fixing of the order, but status is without exception the dominant factor.[9] A guest is always placed higher than the host unless his status is much lower than that of the host. A guest coming from a more distant place is accorded particularly respectful treatment.

There is no situation as awkward in Japan as when the appropriate order is ignored or broken ― when, for example, an inferior sits at a seat higher than that of his superior. It is often agreed that, in these 'modern' days, the younger generation tends to infringe the rules of order. But it is interesting to note that young people soon begin to follow the traditional order once they are employed, as they gradually realize the social cost that such infringement involves. The young Japanese, moreover, is never free of the seniority system. In schools there is a very distinct senior-junior ranking among students, which is observed particularly strictly among those who form sports clubs. In a student mountaineering club, for example, it is the students of a junior class who carry a heavier load while climbing, pitch the tent and prepare the evening meal under the surveillance of the senior students, who may sit smoking. When the preparations are over it is the senior students who take the meal first, served by the junior students. This strong rank consciousness, it is said, clearly reflects the practices of the former Japanese army.

In the West the use of a regulated table plan is restricted usually to occasions such as a formal dinner party, when the chief guest is placed at the right of the host and so on. But in Japan even at the supper table of a humble family there is no escape from the formality demanded by rank. At the start of the meal everyone should be served cooked rice by the mistress of the household. The bowls should be served in order of rank, from higher to lower: among family members, for example, the head of the household will be served first, followed by his nominal successor (his son or adopted son-in-law), other sons and daughters according to sex and seniority. Last of all come the mistress of the household and the wife of the successor. The sequence of serving thus clearly reflects the structure of the group.

Since ranking order appears so regularly in such essential aspects of daily life, the Japanese cannot help but be made extremely conscious of it. In fact, this consciousness is so strong that official rank is easily extended into private life. A superior in one's place of work is always one's superior wherever he is met, at a restaurant, at home, in the street. When wives meet, they, too, will behave towards each other in accordance with the ranks of their husbands, using honorific expressions and gestures appropriate to the established relationship between their husbands. A leader in Japan tends to display his leadership in any and every circumstance, even when leadership is in no way called for. American behaviour is quite different in this particular: my experience among Americans is that it is often very difficult to discover even who is the leader of a group (or who has the higher or lower status) except in circumstances which require that the leadership make itself known.

A fixed seating order, particularly appropriate to and impressive in a Japanese-style room, extends also to the modern western-style room. At any gathering or meeting it is obvious at first glance which is the most superior and the most inferior person present. The frequency with which a man offers an opinion, together with the order in which those present speak at the beginning of the meeting, are further indications of rank. A man who sits near the entrance may speak scarcely at all throughout the meeting. In a very delicate situation those of an inferior status would not dare to laugh earlier or louder than their superiors, and most certainly would never offer opinions contradictory to those of their superiors. To this extent, ranking order not only regulates social behaviour but also curbs the open expression of thought.

In such manners we can observe how deep the ranking consciousness operates among Japanese. In this regard, I recall Tibetans, the patterns of whose everyday manners is very similar to that of the Japanese, in that they employ gestures and varying degrees of linguistic honorific according to the difference in recognized ranks between speakers. However, I observed that when Tibetan scholars sit for a debate they completely renounce all difference of rank and rank equal to each other. I was told that even the Dalai Lama is no exception to this practice. Japanese scholars, on the other hand, never escape from the consciousness of the distinction between sempai and kōhai, even in the case of purely academic debates. It is very difficult for a Japanese scholar to disagree openly with a statement of his sempai. Even a trifling opposition to or disagreement with the sempai's views involves an elaborate and roundabout drill. First, the objector should introduce a long appraisal of the part of the sempai's work in question, using extremely honorific terms, and then gradually present his own opinion or opposition in a style which will give the impression that his opposition is insignificant, being afraid to hurt his sempai's feelings. The ranking of sempai and kōhai thus stifles the free expression of individual thought.[10]

The consciousness of rank which leads the Japanese to ignore logical procedure is also manifested in the patterns and practices of daily conversation, in which a senior or an elderly man monopolizes the talk while those junior to them have the role of listener. Generally there is no development of dialectic style in a Japanese conversation, which is guided from beginning to end by the interpersonal relations which exist between the speakers. In most cases a conversation is either a one-sided sermon, the 'I agree completely' style of communication, which does not allow for the statement of opposite views; or parties to a conversation follow parallel lines, winding in circles and ending exactly where they started. Much of a conversation is taken up by long descriptive accounts, the narration of personal experiences or the statement of an attitude towards a person or an event in definitive and subjective terms unlikely to invite, or to reach, a compromise. The premises underlying thesis-antithesis are parity and confrontation on an equal footing which will develop into or permit the possibility of synthesis. Because of the lack of a discipline for relationships between equals, the Japanese do not practise these three basic steps of reasoning and must overcome great odds in order to advance or cultivate any issue brought under discussion. Hence most conversations are intellectually dull, emotionally enjoyable to the speaker, with a higher status, rather than the listener, with a lower status. Too seldom is the speaker a good entertainer who can lead his listeners to join a worthwhile game.

In particular, a junior takes every care to avoid any open confrontation with his superior, such attempts lead to the point that a flatly negative form is rarely employed in conversation: one would prefer to be silent rather than utter words such as 'no' or 'I disagree'. The avoidance of such open and bald negative expression is rooted in the fear that it might disrupt the harmony and order of the group, that it might hurt the feelings of a superior and that, in extreme circumstances, it could involve the risk of being cast out from the group as an undesirable member. Even if there are others who share a negative opinion, it is unlikely that they will join together and openly express it, for the fear that this might jeopardize their position as desirable group members. Indeed, it often happens that, once a man has been labelled as one whose opinions run contrary to those of the group, he will find himself opposed on any issue and ruled out by majority opinion. No one will defend him in any circumstance.

Thus, the expression of opinion in a group in Japan is very much influenced by the nature of the group and a man's place in it. At a group meeting a member should put forward an opinion in terms that are safe and advantageous to himself, rather than state a judgement in objective terms appropriate to the point at issue. This is why a junior member will rarely dare to speak up in the presence of his superior. Freedom to speak out in a group is determined by, as it were, the processes of human relations within the group; in other words, it goes according to status in the group organization.

The consciousness of ranking order among members of a group also distort the modern formal procedure of a committee meeting. The chairman's authority and rights are easily overruled by a committee member whose place in the seniority system is higher than the chairman's; at the same time the chairman would not dare to put forward a decision without the consent of the most senior member of the committee. The status of the chair is not well established in Japan. one of the most appropriate examples is offered by the procedures of the Japanese Diet. The variety of confusions and deadlocks in committee meetings in Japan seems to derive in the main from the lack of authority to preside (and the techniques of such authority) on the part of the chairman, and from the failure to recognize the authority of the chairman by the participants. Order is always restored after such confusion or deadlock by resort to a procedure which reflects more faithfully the ranking order of the participants.

Ranking consciousness has become an important cause of frustration to ability-conscious personnel directors in modern enterprises. There is much evidence on this matter which comes in for much discussion among those concerned. I have come across several concrete cases during the preparation of this book. The rank of an employee is determined first by his educational qualifications and then by the date of his entry into the company. This latter is not a standard prescribed by management but is rather something that is firmly fixed in the consciousness of the workers themselves. In many large companies each year's entrants form themselves into a club. Such 'year clubs' have the function of pointing up the distinction in rank between those with long experience and newcomers within the company, and help further to entrench the seniority system. If a man from a certain year's intake is promoted his fellows will be considerably disturbed and will even demand similar promotion on the grounds of equal suitability. If the person promoted is a junior the demand will be even more insistent. This surprisingly strong consciousness of rank is difficult for even the most efficient management to overcome. The Japanese consciousness of 'I can do it, too' is stronger that that found anywhere in the world; objective rating of one's own ability is minimal. These factors are, I think, directly related to the institutionalization of the ranking system. No matter how assiduously the company attempts to introduce and sponsor objective methods, those methods will not be successful. As a result, management is driven to promote several individuals from the same year-group, taking care to avoid creating any appreciable gap between them. Hence, the many assistants and acting ranks in every sector of employment in Japan.

It can be said that the bigger and older the enterprise (with the attendant higher stability and density in the employee group), the stronger the institutionalization of rank. Conversely, in small and medium-sized industries and in newer enterprises it is more easy to make the shift from seniority pay to merit pay, or to a system of promotion by capability. The rigid seniority system is often regarded as the 'traditional' system, which should be moved towards and changed into a 'modern' pattern. However, it is interesting to note that thi rigid system is a more recent development, not to be found during the earlier period of Japan's industrialization, which appeared in the later and more sophisticated stages of industrialization. If we examine the history of individual enterprises the evidence is almost without exception of a similar process or continuous movement towards the development of a more rigid ranking order.

Some of the new, successful post-war enterprises, such as Sony, for example, or Honda, used to pride themselves on their modern democratic management; but after they had reached a certain stage of development, when the establishment had grown larger and achieved stable success, there gradually developed within such firms this rigid seniority system, in the same pattern as is to be found among older, larger, established enterprises. Some Japanese interpret this phenomenon as evidence that a company has 'matured', for it is a general truth in Japan that the larger the size and the firmer the establishmet of an institution, the greater the inclination among its personnel to develop an internal ranking order and to evolve a bureaucratic pattern. This phenomenon may be universal, but the form it takes in Japan is unique.

Not only does the strength of this ranking transcend differences of occupational type; in addition, year-group consciousness admits of no concern for the usual occupational classifications. This is because, from the beginning, a man is employed not in a specific job but rather for whatever type of work the company shall determine for him. The usual practice is for an individual to do a variety of different work in succession. Thus, from the standpoint of both management and employee, there is no firmly defined 'occupation' system. One might theorize that the strengths of these horizontal (occupational) and vertical (rank) relationships are inversely proportional.

Whereas there is in Japan no notable horizontal group consciouness within such groups as executives, clerks, manual workers and so on, there is instead a strong departmentalism constructed along the functional vertical tie. It may group together a section head and his subordinates; in a university department, for example, the professor, assistant professor, lecturer, assistant and students are linked together in a vertical relationship. The professor is closer to his lecturer and assistant (who are most probably his former students) and to his students than he is to any of his fellow professors.

There are many consequences of such vertical organization. Frequently, for example, it is not the man who is the most obviousy capable but rather a more pliable person who is elected as the chairman or the head of any collective body. The claims of the more capable man are often passed over because of the fear among other members that he might work for the advantage of his own group, which, in fact, given circumstances normally prevailing in Japan, he is quite likely to do.

This kind of orientation in human relations in Japan contrasts sharply with that of other societies. In America and again in England, for example, teaching staff in a university or executives in a firm form a more functional group based on 'colleague' identification. Minor differences of individual rank tend to be ignored; in place of rank, there are sharply defined groups ― assistants or students against professors, clerks or workers against executives, for example. Among Indians, this kind of group consciousness is even more pronounced. For example, members of the IAS (Indian Administrative Service) develop a caste-like feeling which sets them apart from other workers in the administrative institutions. A deputy commissioner feels much closer to his colleagues in the IAS in other offices or in other parts of India than he does to the immediate subordinates in his own office who are not members of the IAS. I was surprised to find that a group of IAS men who met by chance on their way to a conference were able to strike up an immediate companionship, regardless of differences in age and the year in which they passed the IAS examination. This could never occur among their Japanese counterparts. Among Japanese, a difference of even one year at entry and minor divergencies in the stage of promotion may well create a feeling of unease which would preclude any companionship. An Indian IAS man informed me that a consciousness of difference of status may develop between men whose length of service differs by more than seven years. A difference of this degree would affect promotion and the nature of the work. However, even this difference is not as great as that which separates IAS and non-IAS men. These senior men are like the elders of a caste, always concerned for the welfare of their own people.

Although a year-group, or a set of class-mates of a school, are recognized in Japan, such groups are the outcome of the ranking system itself. In other words, such group consciousness exists because of the ranking system and is not that of a horizontal group created primarily for the enjoyment of comradeship. Rather, it demarcates clear lines of rank within the picture of the total group or institution. One of the tests of the effectiveness of human relations within a year-group, in contrast to a vertical group, can be seen in the effectiveness of letters of introduction. A Japanese writes a letter or introduction very readily even without much sense of responsibility, on the basis of 'knowing the man'. Hence, it is difficult to be sure whether a letter of introduction will be effective or not. In normal circumstances little can be expected from an introduction given to a class-mate of similar rank unless there is some particularly close friendship or some common and important interest involved. On the other hand, a letter of introduction from a distinguished senior man to his subordinate is very effective. It will ensure proper, even unreasonably generous treatment, quite irrespective of the subordinate's views of the bearer of the introduction, and of the latter's status. The vertical line is much more effective than the horizontal line.

In face of these forms of human relations and the vertical-group organization which naturally derives from them, group consciousness based on a common attribute, such as that to be found among college professors or labourers, is inevitably very weak. The consciousness of like qualities, enfeebled by this internal structure, is further weakened by a lack of contact with similar people outside one's own group and by the tendency towards the building of social groups into frames. And here, again, in place of the consciousness of the same occupation, is the ever-present consciousness of the same 'household'.

2. The fundamental structure of vertical organization

The ranking order which produces delicate differentiations between members of a group develops firm personal links between superior and subordinate. Such relationships form the core of the system of a group organization. A group structure based on a vertical line of this strength is demonstrably different from one based on a horizontal line.

The structural difference between group X (vertical) and group Y (horizontal) can be demonstrated in the following way. In Figure 1 the three points, a, b and c represent the members of each group, assuming that each group is made up of the same number of individuals. In Y these three points form a triangle or a circle, but in X the base of the triangle is missing or very weak. If there is any link the nature of the relationship b-c is quite different from that of a-b or a-c. Hence the structure forms not a triangle or a circle but an inverted V (hereafter indicated by the sign ^). Although a, b and c constitute a group, it is not necessary that each of the three shares a common requirement as the basis of forming a group. The group is formed by the accumulation of the relations a-b and a-c with a as the focal point. In contrast, in the case of Y, a, b and c share the same attribute, which is the basic requirement for the formation of the group; thus the attribute of membership is very clear and becomes the basis of group formation. It is immediately obvious to an outsider whether he may join the group or not. In the case of group X there is no such obvious rule governing membership, so that any outsider, provided he can become acquainted with and accepted by one of the members, may join; access to the group is rather a situational and personal matter, the context of which may differ case by case. The addition of a new member to the group involves no alteration to the place of any existing members, he being placed on the lowest rank.

But in group Y the participation or a new member would affect everyone in the group. However, once his entry is effected, he will be in the same position as all the other members. In group X there can be unlimited variation in the modes of incorporation, and the outsider can enter easily, but it is an inflexible structure in which the individual member cannot change his relative position within the organization. The individual's group participation is regulated by his established relation to a given group member, which is by itself the fixed basis for his incorporation into the group. On the other hand, in Y in theory any individual can take the place of any other within the group, and a new member is able to stand on the same footing as all the other members. These structural differences are demonstrated by the position and function of a. In Y the position of a (and of each group member) can be modified in accordance with changes in other members. Y group's organization can continue without the existence of a, because b and c are linked. But in the case of X, because the constituents are all linked with a, the pivot of the organization, the absence of a leaves the other members unable to build or sustain the group's organization. Herein lies an important problem concerning the characteristics of group leadership.

If we examine the relationship of a group to its leader we note first that in X, while it is not impossible, it is very difficult to change leaders. In addition, the leadership is always restricted to one individual. In this X structure it is impossible for two or more persons to stand in parallel or equal positions. Thus the several relationships linking the leader to other group members do not necessarily have the same attributes. In Figure 2 the relation linking the leader a to member d (or a to g) is operative only through b (or c).

As has been said, the group is based on the accumulation of relationships between two individuals: the group in Figure 2 consists of the relationships a-b, a-c, b-d, b-e, c-f and c-g. The relationship between two individuals of upper and lower status is the basis of the structural principle of Japanese society. This important relationship is expressed in the traditional terms oyabun and kobun. Oyabun means tbe person with the status of oya (parent) and kobun means with the status of ko (child). In Figure 2, b is the kobun of a (oyabun), and at the same time he is the oyabun of d. One person may play more than one rôle. The traditional oyabun-kobun relationship took the form of patron and client, landowner and tenant, for example, or master and disciple. The expressions are still used today, although more informally. Oyabun may be one in a senior position at a man's place of work, with whom has grown a close personal relationship over the years. The essential elements in the relationship are that the kobun receives benefits or help from his oyabun, such as assistance in securing employment or promotion, and advice on the occasion of important decision-making. The kobun, in turn, is ready to offer his services whenever the oyabun requires them. In the case of a funeral of a man of higher rank, for instance, his juniors rush to the household to help in the preparations and even contribute more than the dead man's kinsmen or neighbours.

Most Japanese, whatever their status or occupation, are involved in oyabun-kobun relationships. There was an excellent example in a recent election for the Governor of Tokyo. When the successful candidate, a well-known professor of economics, was asked to stand as the joint candidate of the Socialist and Communist Parties his first act was to run to his former teacher (oyabun), a very well-known economist almost eighty years old, to take advice on whether he should accept the offer or not. The press took this action as natural and anticipated the meeting of the two professors; the following day's newspapers carried pictures of the meeting and stressed the importance of the opinion of the oyabun professor. The oyabun-kobun relationship comes into being through one's occupational training and activities, and carries social and personal implications, appearing symbolically at the critical moments in a man's life. Indeed, the oyabun plays the rôle of the father, as the term suggests. And it is by no means exceptional for the oyabun to play a more important rôle than the father.

The degree to which this relationship functions may vary considerably case by case. Various elements, such as the oyabun's ability, his status and personal attraction and the relative weakness of the kobun, contribute to strengthen the relationship. Some oyabun may have a broad range of kobun, possessing wide influence and power, while others may have only a few kobun; or a man may not merit the term oyabun, being no more than a senior (sempai). It is the same with the kobun: some would not be able to name a particular man as oyabun, but even in such cases there is likely to be some particular senior (sempai) with the flavour of oyabun, whom, for instance, it would be hard to refuse when some form of service was requested. There may be more than one such sempai, but normally there is a particularly close relationship with one of these. The tendency to distinguish one particular sempai as oyabun becomes more prominent as the oyabun-kobun relationship becomes more effective. A man may change his oyabun, but such a change in itself indicates the weakness of the relationship. And there may be, of course, the exception who has no oyabun (but may or may not have kobun), or refuses to recognize the authority of his sempai. Such a man, the lone wolf (ippiki ōkami), is powerful and active but reluctant to conform. Since an oyabun is normally shared by equals, the refusal to recognize an oyabun also results in ostracism from the group sharing an oyabun. Whatever variations may be found in individual cases, it may be said that groups in Japan are formed by the multiplication of a vertical relation between two individuals. Thus the individual locus is determined informally within the network of such a relationship.

Now we must return to Figure 2, to discuss the mechanism of the network forming the group. If the link between a and b breaks, the ties linking d and e to a are automatically cut: a's control over d (as over e, f and g) is possible only through b and c. In the a-b relationship, to the extent that a controls b, he can extend his control over d and e. Consequently the core of the group structure is in the a-b, a-c relationships. Break these and, inevitably, internal disruption of the group will follow.

In X therefore the existence of a (and the a-b, a-c links) has incomparably more importance for the maintenance of the group than it would have in Y. No matter how strong the unity, no matter how 'happy the group' (to use a Japanese expression), the sudden removal of the leader is a severe blow, and automatically brings a 'household rebellion' (the Japanese expression for an internal struggle).

It is said that the greatest battle weakness of the former Japanese army was the disruption that followed when a platoon leader was killed. A platoon that lost its organizational pivot by the death of its lieutenant easily degenerated into a disorganized mob, committing gross errors of judgement. In the British and American armies there is no such disruption; a substitute platoon leader quickly steps out from the ranks, and control of the platoon remains undisturbed until there is only one soldier left. Although it may seem that the group organization triangle in Japan has a line across the base, this tie functions hardly at all; without a, a relation between b and c cannot be maintained. Further complexities arise because b and c seem then to be ready to develop antagonistic ambitions which can splinter the group into factions.

Herein, then, lies the supreme importance of the rôle of the leader; he is the holder of legitimate status and is also the outstanding personality, able to synthesize the members and suppress antagonisms among them. The leader's absence from his men, even though only temporary, may give rise to increased antagonisms among them. The Buddhist sage, Hōnen (1133-1212), recognized this, perceiving that, when he was absent, his disciples would fail to stay on amicable terms with each other, and would bicker among themselves. So, facing his followers, he said, 'You shall not stay together, but each go his own separate way.'

In group structure of this nature a change of leadership leads to a vey critical period for the continuance and stability of the group. In many cases groups split into a number of small and hostile segments after the death of the leader. The chaos thus created can rarely be repaired internally. The difficulty in installing a new leader lies in the personal relationship between him and the rest, rather than in his capability for the work. First of all, the position of the leader-to-be is in a way legitimized if his acceptance as leader does not destroy the relations already existing in the group. Legitimacy is based on seniority (not necessarily of age but of years of service in the group): the most senior man is also very probably the man highest in rank after and closely linked with the leader, since the group hierarchy is formed according to the order of entry into the group. If there is more than one man in such a position the most senior in age would become the first candidate for succession to the leadership. Such a succession scheme would certainly be affected and perhaps be disturbed by particular circumstances and elements in a given case, but it remains the procedure most acceptable to all the members of a group.

Secondly, in order to exercise leadership a man must have a personal côterie directly attached to him, which forms his stronghold. The leader-to-be should not only be the most senior man with direct links to the leader but also a man with a considerable number of kobun directly attached to him. His predecessor's kobun are not always willing to remain attached to the new leader, but may take up a position in competition with him. For this reason a son might sometimes fail, or find it difficult, to succeed to his father's office: in fact, it often happens that the most senior man attached directly to the former leader takes the succession in place of the son (see pp. 113-14).

In view of the structure of the group, however, whether the successor is the leader's son or his most senior subordinate, and whether he is a man of ability or not, a leader who has newly succeeded is handicapped in the exercise of his leadership in comparison with the first leader of the group. The first leader of the group (when the group is young, i.e. founded by this leader) possesses decided advantages in terms of group structure. He stands far beyond comparison with the members of his group, in that he became leader by his own efforts and merit, so that all group members are de jure and de facto his kobun, and this makes him drastically different from subsequent leaders.

There have been many examples in the post-war period of successful enterprises beginning on a very small scale and growing, under the leadership of the founder, to be leading companies with upwards of 10,000 employees. National, Sony and Sanyō lead in the electrical field, Honda and Idemitsu in motors and oil respectively; all are still under the control of the founder, whose exercise of leadership is sharply distinguishable from that of those who have succeded to the presidency of older and more traditional enterprises.

It is the general pattern that such enterprises lose some of their vitality under a succeeding leader; in the second generation there develops a bureaucratic stability which may readily spawn factions and blunt the earlier initiative of the pioneer. If an enterprise is not firmly established before the death of its founder-leader and has difficulty in deciding on his succesor internal disorder and dispute may well lead, as has regularly happened, to bankruptcy and disintegration. One of the most eminent directors of an industrial enterprise has stated that it is the duty of the manager to prepare his successor, and if this duty is neglected true management is not possible. In Japanese thinking it is the leader's duty, therefore, before death or retirement, to prepare and indicate a succesor acceptable to the members of the group. The preparation of a succesor is vital also to a political party. The survival or disintegration of factions (habatsu) within Japanese political parties depends primarily on the existence of a suitable successor after the death of the oyabun.

In the group structure exemplified in X in Figures 1 and 2 (p. 43 and 44) it should be noted that it could disintegrate not only from a's (the leader's) death or absence but also from instability in the a-b or a-c links. Such instability may occur if the leader fails to sustain a strong influence and an immediate subordinate seizes the opportunity to increase his own power. For instance, if b has amassed numerous followers and commands enough power to manipulate group life he would normally be frustrated in that he cannot overrule a or become leader as long as a remains in the group. Nor does b, a frustrated, capable subordinate, have any opportunity to establish a partnership with the leader, for their original positions as leader and subordinate cannot be changed. The legitimacy of the leadership has its base in the historical formation of the group. If b's power grows to the point where it can shake this existing order developments usually occur on the following lines:

Noting b's restiveness, c may sense his opportunity and, drawing closer to a, may encourage tension in the a-b relationship, eventually creating a critical and unstable situation which will lead to a crisis. Then even while a is still in the position of authority, an internal split may occur. This would lead to complete catastrophe, from which nothing could be salvaged. But b could in no circumstances co-operate with a or c in such a power struggle. This is not because the participants are emotional or petty-minded; it is a consequence of the inherent structural situation, which does not allow two of more inviduals to be equal, or more than one to lead.

There are two alternative solutions of such a catastrophe. In one a (usually taking c along) is exiled from the group (in Japanese parlance, the 'head-clerk-taking-over-the-store'). In the other solution b pulls out his 'family and retainers' and forms a new, independent group, a process which is called fission. After c has been excluded, whether f and g follow c or whether they form a new attachment to b, d or e, and thus become part of the b faction, depends on the relative strength of c-f or c-g relations. Among these peripheral members there are various possibilities for adjustments to the new situation. Since these members are on the fringe of the group and cannot be part of the nucleus, they are free to make a new alignment because the group's structure allows each member the possibility of the attachment of new members. The structure of ^, however, operates so effectively in the area close to the nucleus that, regardless of his actual power, it is almost impossible for a new participant to break into the nucleus.

The structure of X thus reveals an instability which always involves the risk of fission. Indeed, in may cases fission is taken for granted at a certain stage in the growth of the group. This may be called 'amicable' fission, for fission is expected by the leader as well as by other members when the subordinate acquires enough strength to be independent. Nevertheless, the splinter group does not always maintain amicable relations with the original core. Often it may become a competitor, unless the leader of the original group can control or bind it in some way, or unless the second group is still so weak as to expect help from the original body.

The best illustration of such a process is the traditional manner of establishing new agricultural households or new mercantile shops by a second son, an adopted son, or servant or tenant of the original household or shop. Among modern occupations a similar process operates, for example, among lawyers and doctors. It is customary for a young lawyer or doctor who has just finished training to enter one of the well-established offices, under the guidance of the head of the office, and after some years' work to set up his own independent office. Especially capable men would not remain in their chief's office, since, as has already been pointed out, there would be no opportunity to advance to a partnership. Indeed, the ambition of any such young capable Japanese would be to have an independent office or practice of his own. There is not a system of partnership in the sense that obtains in Britain or America, for it is very difficult for Japanese to form a partnership on western lines. Even though a relationship may be styled 'partnership', closer observation always reveals that de facto it is a senior-junior structure, which becomes obvious, particularly in the process of decision-making. Even such a 'partnership' is likely to become unworkable when it has more than three members.

A system based on a vertical relationship works effectively when the junior member is content with his position under his senior. But when a man of oustanding ability who makes distinguished contributions to his group develops dissatisfaction with his senior, the mechanism of the group does not allow any outlet for the expression of such dissatisfaction. As will be explained later, the Japanese system does not have a clearly marked division of labour, nor is the individual role of each member of a group distinctly determined. Any returns from the individual's contribution are enjoyed by the group as a whole, with the resultant prestige attributed to the leader; meanwhile, the capable man who has made significant contribution stays as one of the junior members. His boss and his colleagues may be well aware of his distinguished contribution, but they take it for granted that it should be a matter of profit to them to have such an able member in their group.

Thus, unless a man is in the top position, he rarely has a chance to enjoy public appraisal and prestige. It is this social mechanism that leads many Japanese to be obsessed by the feeling, 'I am under someone', and to be controlled by the desire to obtain the headship, regardless of their capability and personality. In order to achieve one's goal, there are only two alternatives ― first, that a man waits for his turn, or secondly, that he leaves and establishes his own group. A very capable man often finds it difficult to remain in his group. When his contribution is very obvious to anyone outside the group and his reputation brings him outside popularity it very often happens that he incurs his colleagues' jealosy and hostility. Any popularity or outside reputation should be enjoyed by the group as a whole, not by the individual; no individual popularity should exceed that of the senior or boss. The Japanese ethic puts high value on the harmonious integration (wa) of group members. The defiance of individual quality and achievement, which derives from the group structure, often leads a capable man with no immediate chance of attaining leadership to leave the group and establish himself independently.

In that the internal structure of the group does not allow for any easy change in the relative locus of the individual member or permit him to be the immediate superior of subordinates directly attached, the possibility of fission or disruption is latent and the development of factions is a constant potential feature. The size of an actual functional core of a group is always small. These circumstances lead to two well-known Japanese features ― the formation of intra-group factions and the development of a number of independent similar groups within the same field of activity, these groups possessing no means of controlling or accommodating each other.

Japanese society offers numerous examples of these features. The Liberal-Democratic Party, for example, contains nine major factions (habatsu), and the same characteristics are to be found in the Socialist and Communist Parties. The Zengakuren (All-Japan Federation of Students' Self-Governing Associations), which was formed in 1948, has split into several distinct groups, each with its own doctrine. The number of factions and the degree of coherence of these groups change constantly. In the course of such inter-movement much time and energy are spent in fights between competing factions. The strength of the group as a whole (such as a political party) is based on the balance of competing powers among the most dominant factions (frequently three in number).

The coherence of a group as a whole comes first from the history of segmentation from a common founder: units within a group are related and therefore differentiated from others or outsiders. Secondly, perhaps a more important factor in group coherence is the external situation; if each faction feels itself surrounded by so-called enemies the group can maintain a stability based on a balance of the powers and the hierarchical order of its factions, in spite of competition and antagonism between these factions.

The enlargement of a group is always directed towards the attachment of new members or groups vertically. Groups are linked by the head of a weaker group either to the head or one of the members of a stronger group; there is never a horizontal link between the two heads. This process leads to the creation either of a single huge institution or of a distinct group within which a large number of institutions or groups are organized hierarchically. In Japan any kind of large organization always assumes a bureaucratic structure; there is a complete absence of caste-like group organization. In consequence of this structural orientation of group formation there grows that picture of contrasts ― a number of minor, similar institutions, on the one hand, and on the other hand, a single huge institution or a group of institutions ― that characterizes Japanese society today.

Whatever their size, Japanese groups share common structural characteristics. Regardless of the size of the whole group, the functionally effective core is fairly small, usually of one or two dozen members, a size which enables each member to have direct contact with all the others, who can be organized on two or three levels, including the leader on the top level; thus members on the lowest level do not stand too far (i.e. through too many levels) from the leader. The ideal type of effective group is that shown in Figure 3, which is organized on two levels, with all members linked directly to the leader. When a group becomes larger, with an increased number of levels, the effectiveness of the entire system tends to decrease, and a functional core develops at each level.

The workings of the system prohibit a man at a lower (or on the lowest) level from communicating directly with someone at the highest level in the organization. In the case of the leader at the top of the organization, the voice or those in the lower sectors is transmitted only through the men linked directly to him, and he has great difficulty in acquiring first-hand information. It is considered against the rules for a man at the lower end to speak to or ask for an appointment directly with a division head or director, he should not leapfrog his section head, his immediate superior, for such action would bring loss of face to his section head and would be regarded as an insult to the status of the division head or of the director. An opinion or a good idea from a man at a lower level may reach the top, but only through the legitimate route, by way of his immediate superior. There is an appropriate example of a university president refusing to consider a suggestion made by an ordinary professor, while accepting exactly the same proposal a few days later from the dean of the faculty to which the professor belonged.

These factors contribute to inefficiency of organization, in the matter of poor communication from the lower sectors to the top and between sections. However, such inefficiency is perhaps more than balanced by the extreme efficiency of communication from the top to the lowest level. Indeed, the swiftness by which the members of a group can be mobilized from the top in Japan is not paralleled in any other society. The secret of such swift action and the source of the high level of group energy seems to lie in the nature of the core of group organization, based on the relationship between two immediately linked men. The golden rule is that the junior man should invariably carry out any order from his immediate superior, for this immediate link between the two men is the source of the existence of the junior man in the organization. Hesitation or refusal constitute a violation of the system, even if the execution of the order takes a man outside his assigned rôle, for what is important is the working of the vertical system, rather than the nature of the work or the formal assignment of rôles. The prompt acceptance of an order by a junior predisposes his senior in his favour, and the accumulation of such give-and-take relations further strengthens the bond between the two and contributes to the mobilization of the entire group.

However, at the same time this highly involved relationship between the two men again entails the phenomenon of 'the creation of groups within a group', the sectionalism from which Japanese organizations regularly suffer. This precludes horizontal relations. It is difficult for a horizontal link or balanced co-operation between sections to function in Japan. The equal balance of powers between peers or collaboration between two equally competing groups is almost non-existent in Japanese society, for when there is more than one faction within a group one will dominate. The existence of equally competing powers is a most unstable situation in Japan; stability always resides in imbalance between powers where one dominates the others.

A de facto coalition of equally strong factions is unlikely in Japan, for one of the factions is always invested with disproportionate weight. On this basis the leader mediates between opposing factions in order to arrive at group consensus, and will appeal to the weaker faction to concede its point 'for the sake of my face' ― that is, for his standing and reputation; and if the leader's face is saved, so is that of the opponent. Given such group structure and the use of emotional appeals, a majority opinion readily emerges. Thus, though the issue itself may never be subjected to logical examination, the group can reach agreement to act on a generally accepted decision. General agreement prompts readiness to act, and if a recalcitrant minority adamantly resists concession, radical action might finally be taken by which this minority could be made outcasts from the group. As a result, the dissidents tend always to be the same minority members, regardless of the issue. This tendency often entails radical and futile activity on the part of the minority group; its views are always ineffective, and it always ends up the loser in decision-making. The Japanese are pleased to call this method of decision-making 'democratic', by which they imply the entitlement of the majority to rule over the minority. In Japanese group dynamics the stability of the group, if it consists of more than two factions, can be maintained by imbalance in the power and the weight of the factions, and at the expense of minorities.

As, even within one group, it is difficult to establish a cooperative link and balance between two sub-groups, it is almost impossible to create a horizontal link between two or more independent groups. When two leaders collaborate, each bringing his followers with him, in an attempt to form a new combined group, even if both segments had previously been parts of a common larger group and had split away from it, it is impossible for them to come together again. The process is illustrated in Figure 2. If, because of the death of a, the separate groups b and c should join forces while preserving their original internal structure (thus attempting to create a horizontal link between them) the attempt would be doomed to failure, for a link cannot be made between them as long as their respective internal structures remain unchanged. If they had developed originally as separate groups, even though their activities and aims were similar, they could not be merged into one group unless they managed to find a single legitimate leader acceptable and suitable to both groups. The merger of two groups can take place only if one absorbs or dominates the other, or if a leader emerges satisfactory to both; this latter is indeed very rare. Even when both groups profess to be 'hand in hand', this is usually merely a slogan and does not reflect the actual condition.

We should note here that Japanese history knows no instance of oligarchy. Nor have the political parties of modern Japan ever had recourse to the device of the coalition. One party always dominates the others, and there has always been a single leader, legitimate and acknowledged by all factions, though not necessarily a man of power.

Even when two groups have the same aims and courses of action, it is still extremely difficult for them to work together. This leads to situations which it is impossible to explain by any common-sense point of view. The atomic-bomb memorial incidents in recent years are a case in point. In 1963, for example, the Communist and Socialist parties (including Sōhyō) were not able to join together for the performance of the memorial ceremony, with the result that the ceremonial hall became the stage for their open quarrels. And more recently, memorial services for the victims of the hydrogen-bomb test at Bikini Island were held in Yaizu by two competing groups (The Peace Association of Japanese Religious Men and Sōhyō) at the same place but at different times. Their unseemly wrangles distressed both the Mayor of Yaizu and the bereaved family, who were torn by their social obligations to attend both functions,and the two competing groups gained little beyond the contempt of the local people and the general public. In spite of such reactions from outside, groups still destroy themselves by such deadly internal group-versus-group wrangling. Meanwhile, the outsider begins to question the groups' social responsibility. It is for these reasons that political cliques (habatsu) are so vulnerable to attack on ethical grounds; from the outside, their concern seems to be preoccupied with interpersonal relations inside factions, interrelations of factions-within-a-faction and interfactional disputes. Thus, the goals of the organization tend to be deflected by the everyday procedure of group life.

The industrial field is not exempt from the effects of internal group structure. 'Reorganization of industrial enterprises', by which is meant the merger of individual enterprises of similar kinds, has become one of the main national efforts to offset the invasion of foreign enterprise into Japan which followed the recent adoption by Japan of an economic policy aimed at an international free market. For Japan's particular industrial situation it is certainly profitable to establish larger enterprises by a combination of already existing enterprises; this enables the resultant larger enterprise to compete in the international market and to increase profits proportionately by avoiding unnecessary domestic competition and double-investment. Directors of many larger enterprises who are aware of the theoretical advantages of the merger find, however, that their hopes face great obstacles that can arise from interpersonal rivalries, among the directors and executives of the enterprises involved as well as among the managers and managerial staff within an individual enterprise. There are innumerable instances which reveal the development of such difficulties from the group structure I have described. Here I would like to discuss only two examples, one representing a successful merger and one representing a failure.

The first example concerns three large enterprises which be- before the war formed one Zaibatsu group (see also pp. 101-2) called Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Company. It separated into three entities in 1950: Mitsubishi Japan Heavy Industries Company, New Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Company and Mitsubishi Ship Manufacturing Company. Long and complicated negotiations were necessary before a successful merger was achieved. The basic reason for their success seems to have been a happy blend of personal relations among the directors. According to the economic critic, Seki Tadatake, editor of Zaikai (Business World), the key figure was Mr S. Fujii. Mr Fujii had become director, after having been the president, of New Mitsubishi Heavy Industries Company after the sudden death of the company's former director. He was respected as sempai by the other two directors, was known as a man of great achievement and was far from being an egocentric personality. He was, in addition, a former colleague of the presidents of the two other companies; the three men had entered Mitsubishi at almost the same period and had worked together, so that it was not difficult for the other two directors to become co-directors under Mr Fujii. The success of the merger of these three companies derived from the fact that it destroyed none of the internal structure of the companies and caused no disruption of the traditional ranking system which has always been particularly prized by Mitsubishi men.

In another instance, while the top personnel agreed to the merger, it failed because of the opposition of executive members of one of the companies. Asahi Beer Company and Sapporo Beer Company, formerly a single enterprise called Dainihon Beer Company, divided into two soon after the war. The two directors were on good terms, having been together in Dainihon Company, and they were in favour of merging. If and when the merger was completed the director of the merged company was to be Mr T. Yamamoto, director of Asahi Beer Company. Mr Yamamoto was known as despotic, while Mr Matsuyama, director of Sapporo, was known as a democratic manager and the pioneer in Japan of scientific techniques in beer production. When a news story disclosed the plan the whole of the executive staff of Sapporo Beer Company joined to oppose the proposal, saying that they would not work under the despotic director. They were happy enough under the present democratic director, and although they were aware of the benefits of the merger from the point of view of the business advances it would bring, they felt that the problems of day-to-day organization were of more importance and relevance. Because of this strong opposition, the attempt was cut short only two days after the plan for the merger was announced in the press. Following this experience, the director of Sapporo said the idea of a merger 'will never cross my mind again'. One might ask why he did not force his men to agree with the merger, by exercising the advantages of his popular leadership. However, as I shall discuss later, the power of a Japanese leader is much restricted by group consensus. If he had forced a merger against the will of his employees he would have risked losing their devotion and collaboration.

From the above discussion two negative characteristics of group structure X can be deduced as follows: (1) the group is always under the risk of internal fission; (2) it has a crucial external weakness of not permiting co-operation between groups. On the positive side, when the group is functioning at its best the power and efficiency of X in concentrating and mobilizing its members' energies can exceed that of Y, since in X the ties binding individuals together are emotional and stable. It follows, however, that the efficiency of X is open to impairment through accidents or ambitions which upset its balances of power.

It is demonstrable that the informal hierarchy and the factions which develop among a group's members (the invisible organizations discussed above) overlap and supersede an institution's formal administrative (visible) organization. In firmly established institutions, such as long-founded companies and governmental organizations, the instability and disintegration of informal groups are well compensated for by the institutional frame itself. Even when the informal hierarchy is deformed or destroyed, individual members still remain within the frame; and even while its efficiency is lowered, the group can preserve itself by means of the formal administrative organization. The institutional frame indeed fulfils the important function of keeping the members together, whatever factions are found within it; and, since members are classified primarily by the institution, whatever internal rivalries they may feel, they realize that they are all in one boat racing with other boats. It goes without saying that the degree of effectiveness of an institutional frame (the coherence of its members) is heightened when the institution possesses wide prestige and an important rôle in the society.

In cases where a group has no constant frame with a formal institutional administrative system, such as a company or a village, the function of the hierarchical organization tends to become more important. This occurs with groups such as political parties or underground organizations; in such cases the informal vertical organization itself becomes the group's de jure organization. A prototype of this kind of organization is to be found in iemoto-sei (literally, 'origin of the household system') in the traditional arts such as , flower arrangement, or tea ceremony. Iemoto ― the head of the school ― stands at the apex of the organization and the succession to his position is normally hereditary. Innumerable vertical line links originate in the office of iemoto, through the master-disciple relationship, and in the case of the older and more successful schools the ^ shape network often covers almost the whole of Japan. It is a matter of some surprise that these older schools have retained the same organization over several centuries and that some of them still flourish today. The iemoto attracts not only the highest prestige but also the greatest economic advantages; he can collect fees for a certificate of proficiency from individuals who are linked to him indirectly in the hierarchical organization, as well as fees for direct teaching. The system thus not only serves to transmit artistic techniques, but also has a wider and more effective economic and social function.

The relationship between different schools in the same artistic field is poor. In , for example, there are five major schools, each with an organization quite independent of the others but of exactly the same structure and function. Members of different schools hardly ever perform on the same stage, although they share texts basically the same, and an actor will not attend plays given by schools other than his own. Even if the programme contains plays by more than one school, members of the audience belonging to one of the schools normally leave their seats during the performance of the other school. Not only does an artist not mix with members of other schools in the same field; he will also not change his master within the same school. The iemoto system demands that every individual retains the vertical line once established between master and disciple. Such a behaviour pattern fits nicely into the structural principle of the organization. One realizes here the far-reaching structural implications of the golden rule of Japanese ethics ― 'No man can serve two masters.'

The basic pattern of the organization is inherited to a certain degree, though on a smaller scale, by the modern professionals, such as modern artists, scholars, lawyers, etc. The internal composition of associations of lawyers in Japan, for example, is clearly based on vertical relationships, although their activities rest primarily on an individual basis, rather than on employment by an institution. The vertical relationship found between individual advocates is created by former teacher-student and sempai-kōhai relationships in the same university, or master-disciple and sempai-kōhai relationships in the advocate's office where they were articled at the beginning of their careers. Through such vertical relations the group manifests a lineage-like organization. It is interesting to learn that for these advocates each group is conceptualized as a village community and, in fact, the traditional Japanese term used for these groups is mura, a village. At a committee meeting consisting of representatives of each group, when an important issue comes up and a representative is not able to give a spot decision, he will say, 'I withhold my decision until I can refer it back to my mura.' A faction within a political party is similarly termed mura. A candidate new to politics in an election for the House of Councillors was asked to which mura he belonged. He showed his ignorance of the jargon by answering, 'I come from Tokyo,' meaning that he was a native of Tokyo. What it was intended to discover, of course, was to which faction he belonged. The primary community (significantly termed mura) of contemporary Japan is thus a faction within a professional or occupational group.

Without either 'frame' or 'vertical links', it seems to be almost impossible for the Japanese to form a functional group. In fact, in Japan it is very difficult to form and maintain the sort of voluntary association found so often in western societies, in that it does not have the basis of frame or existing vertical personal relations. There were many attempts to organize voluntary welfare groups after the Second World War on the pattern prevalent in America. Most of these have failed to function in the manner of their American counterparts, because of lack of organizing personnel, active participation on the part of members and social recognition by the general public. In face of such unexpected difficulties, most organizers approach the Government for formal or informal support, which enables the establishment of an effective network at national level and brings social recognition.

Such difficulties face not only voluntary groups but also the development of a new local community in the suburban areas of large cities. Municipal authorities, as well as sociologists, etc., have produced a series of plans for the development of what they call 'community life' (another concept imported from America), in general without success. As I see it, the formation of such groups, presupposing, as they do, horizontal links between members, cuts across existing groups based on work place. Committed to groups based on their primary business activities, they are reluctant to contribute money or time to local residential groups. Surveys by sociologists of local communities reveal that the most likely basis for the formation of a local community organization is the catchment area of a primary school; contacts through a Parent-Teacher Association afford more opportunities for access and association, but, even so, there is difficulty in the way of embracing households with no schoolchildren.

The tight coherence of the Japanese village community is often interpreted as that of a local group; but my point is that the traditional village is the group in which the members conduct their vital economic (i.e. agricultural) activities, and is a closely knit sociological entity through the generations rather than a mere residential group. When villagers move to urban areas place of work and residence are separated and precedence is given to the place of work, which is their community (the village, as they see it), rather than to the local residential group. As in the case of the advocates and politicians, their 'village' is their professional 'lineage' group, not the neighbourhood in which their houses are actually located. Former practice in Japan was that the voting in national elections went by a kind of village 'card vote', village members agreeing to support a candidate recommended by a local boss: in recent years, however, it has become prevalent for an enterprise (with its satellites and sub-contracting companies) to cast a block vote for a chosen candidate, with unions and management normally in agreement on the choice. In such cases a local community cannot match the authority and functional strength of a company as a group. Single-group participation is thus manifested in the lack of development of new local communities in urban areas in Japan. (See also p. 131)

Though they may fail to develop a new local community, many new urban residents join new religious groups, of which the most successful today is Sōka-gakkai, with an estimated membership of three millions. Sōka-gakkai is a kind of patron group attached to a particular Buddhist temple belonging to the Nichiren sect and all members are laymen. Surveys of the group reveal that membership is drawn mainly from the upper sector of the lower strata of the urban population, and conversion to the group usually occurs within two or three years after the move into the city from the countryside. Active group members, on the whole, give precedence to group participation over membership of associations based on their place of work. Conversion seems to occur before a man becomes an active and influential member of organizations based on his place of work. It is not without significance that Sōka-gakkai is organized along vertical lines, to which the movement itself has given the name tate-sen (literally, vertical lines). The tate-sen are the result of the extension of direct lines built between two individuals. The individual's place along the tate-sen is determined at the time of his conversion to Sōka-gakkai, and this tate-sen eventually reaches up to the president at the apex, cutting across areas and other institutions. The organization within the top sector of the ultra-loyal staff mirrors Japan's former military system. The astonishing success of these new religious groups, which have grown so large and so rapidly, seems to be attributable mainly to their system of vertical organization.

In society not all groups experience in the same degree the effect of the functioning of the organizational principle. One might discover a group which does not have as its organizing principle the vertical organization described in this essay; however, it might well be, in such a case, that the group was formed very recently and had not had sufficient time to mature as a corporate body, or the group may not be a really functional corporate group to which its members are primarily attached. But if it is, after all, a well-matured functional group the size of the group will be found to be small, perhaps less than two dozen members, or it may consist of fairly homogeneous members of similar social and economic standing who know each other thoroughly (as in some hamlet communities where families have lived together for generations). In such exceptional cases the group can be thoroughly democratic, with no rigid hierarchy of internal structure. Or there might be a group of persons having similar educational background and training but different fields of specialization; in this case a high degree of specialization on the part of each individual member helps to establish a distinctive locus which hinders the development of subordinate or subjugate relationships with other members and promotes mutual interplay while maintaining individual autonomy.

Even in such exceptional circumstances of group formation, a group which has neither internal hierarchical order nor the superior-inferior type of human relations still demands that its members give unilineal participation and develop their own closed community. Again, such uniformity, balance of power and democratic mentality among the members of a group would not be preserved when the group becomes larger. If a homogeneous community adds members from outside itself or experiences external influences internal differentiation is the normal outcome. In the case of a group based on individual specialization the addition of members with identical or similar specializations will result in the development of vertical relationships, since, as has been said earlier, no two persons can occupy the same rank.

Hence the existence or absence of vertical hierarchy within a group and its degree of institutionalization depend on the situational factors of its formation. What is most important is that in Japan a group inevitably and eventually develops the vertical type of organizational structure. Further, an organizational structure based on the vertical principle appears more pronouncedly in well-established, large institutions with a higher degree of prestige. This is the source of the stability of the organization, which seems the major strength of the Japanese system.

It is worth observing that in Japan any group which achieves success and increases in size while also developing in stability always follows this same structural pattern. The degree of function of vertical relationships may differ according to groups; and in some groups there may exist no obvious vertical relationship. However, the inference is that, the stronger the functioning of the group, the more likely it is that its human relations have been built along these lines. This structural principle is latent in all social groups in Japan.

The strength of this structure lies in its effectiveness for centralized communication and its capability of efficient and swift mobilization of the collective power of its members. The importance of its contribution to the process of modernization is immeasurable. It has been noted above that this structure served to underpin Japan's post-war economic growth. Yet the vertical structure known as oyabun-kobun has been looked upon by Japanese as well as by Americans as a 'feudal' or 'familial tradition', as something pre-modern, operating against the interests of modernization. Such a view fails to see the real structural significance, for the oyabun-kobun relationship and the modern bureaucratic system embody the same structural orientation, and the differences are not of quality but of degree ― for while the former involves and recognizes more of the personal elements, the character of the latter is more impersonal.

3. Qualification of the leader and interpersonal relations in the group

In the structure of the group, as demonstrated in the previous section, the qualification of the leader rests primarily on his locus within the group, rather than his personal merit; the loyalty of other members towards the leader also derives from their position as subordinate to him. The most significant factor in the exercise of the leadership is the personal ties between the leader and his immediate subordinates. Strong, functional personal ties always derive from the informal structure. In a given situation this informal structure may or may not coincide with an institution's formal and visible administrative organization. The man in the office of leader in the formal organization who has subordinates tied informally to another leader outside his formal organization has a very difficult time in Japan. Though on the surface his subordinates appear loyal and subservient, his orders are often not carried out behind the scenes and he is sometimes betrayed. He may be able to establish new personal ties through the formal organization, but this becomes more and more difficult as his career advances. For everyone tends to establish personal ties at a comparatively early stage in his career, and personal ties established in the earlier days tend to supersede those developed at a more advanced stage: the earlier the establishment, the stronger the function.

In fact, a man moving to a position of high responsibility tries his best to bring in his kobun as his formal subordinates. It is well known and recognized among Japanese doctors that a change of director of a large hospital involves the replacement of the great majority of those in subordinate posts: the top man moves in or out with his kobun, his subordinates in an informal structure. It goes without saying that, on gaining the premiership, the leader of a political faction similarly moves in with his kobun. This tendency is strengthened when the nature of a group's activities calls for close teamwork; it is in a group of this nature that the characteristics of Japanese leadership are most clearly demonstrated.

The vertical personal relationship is more dynamic in character than the horizontal relationship. Protection is repaid with dependence, affection with loyalty. Because this is not an equivalent exchange, it tends to enlarge the emotional element beyond that to be found in horizontal relations, and to make for easier control of the actions of individuals. This relationship does not bind the subordinate only; it also binds the leader who, though he may often appear to be able to exercise a great deal of power, sometimes of a despotic type, in fact, in comparison with leaders in other societies, finds his authority checked and controlled at a great many points. As I have said, the loyalty of a subordinate to his leader is highly regarded in Japanese ethics, and is often forced by the leader, but in practice the cost of receiving loyalty is high. It is governed largely by the relative quality of the relation between the leader and the subordinate, indications of which may be found in the political, economic or emotional elements. Normally all these factors are present, although the emotional factor has particularly important connotations.

The emotional sympathy felt by the leader towards his subordinate is expressed in the term onjō-shugi, or 'paternalism', and always presupposes a sympathetic appreciation of his men. The subordinate's opinions and wishes will enter deeply into his considerations. In fact, the better and greater the leader, the more strongly is this tendency revealed. In other words, the wider the chief's perceptiveness and permissiveness, the better followers will he have. The characteristic of super-subordination inherent in this leadership is also demonstrated in what is called ringi-sei (a kind of a consensus system) that is well developed in Japan. Superiors do not force their ideas on juniors; instead, juniors spontaneously lay their opinions before their superiors and have them adopted. This practice is also to be found in allowing a bureaucratic organ to administer policies.

One of the characteristic features in the operation of this system is that the weakness of the superior may be covered by his subordinates, and vice versa. In this system it is not essential for the superior, including the man right at the top, to be intelligent. In fact, it is better if he is not outstandingly brilliant. If his mind is too sharp and he is excessively capable in his work the men below him lose a part of their essential function and may become alienated from him. To counterbalance the dependence on the leader on the part of his followers, it is always hoped that the leader, in his turn, will be dependent on his men. The leader must have some weakness for which his men are always ready to compensate or provide support. Having established a firm relationship in this manner, the followers are always eager to understand and co-operate with the leader's ideas and actions.

Such characteristics demanded of the Japanese leader accord nicely with the seniority system. Alternatively the pattern of the relationship between the leader and his subordinate may have developed through the custom of recognizing the seniority system. For the group certainly can maximize its function when it possesses an outstandingly able leader followed by devoted subordinates, and such devotion of subordinates can be gained when the leader is an exceedingly able and perceptive man. The functioning of the relationship between the leader and his subordinates, described above, offers an adjusting mechanism when an ordinary man occupies the top post because his turn in the seniority system has come. By the seniority system the highest office is always occupied by the most senior man in the group. Seniority is based on length of service in a group or an institution, rather than on a man's actual age. This system affords little chance to the younger man to occupy a post of high rank, for the top post or the office of the leader in Japan is normally occupied by an elder, who sits very comfortably in the office and receives very high social prestige in spite of any lack of the necessary ability. This is obvious when we compare Japan with other societies. It would be inconceivable, for example, for Japan to have a prime minister in his forties ― Kennedy's age when he became President. Leaders of the Liberal-Democratic Party, which has a comparatively long history, are mostly in their seventies, and it is from these that Japan has chosen her prime ministers since the late 1940s. A comparatively young leader only arises from a newly formed group; the leading members of the Kōmeitō (the youngest political party in Japan, backed by the Sōka-gakkai) are in their forties.

In academic circles responsible positions are occupied by professors who are nearing or have reached retirement; in the older academic establishments scholars in their forties are considered not to be old enough to take an office, such as the head

4. The undifferentiated rôle of the group member


Chapter Three:
The Overall Structure of the Society


Chapter Four:
Characteristics and Value Orientation of Japanese Man

1. From school to employment

The preceding chapters have offered an analysis of the structure of Japanese society. Now the focus of the discussion is turned to the individual who copes with the system, as a means of examining the present-day characteristics and value orientation of the Japanese.

The society in which class distinction is least developed offers man more opportunities for free competition on the road to success than class or caste societies. In general, in Japan a man's personal ability and actual achievements count for much more than family background. Whether an individual was born into a reputable or rich family or into a poor peasant family matters little after he has once gained admission to a successful group or has been given the chance of being linked with a successful or promising man. A man is classified primarily according to the group to which he belongs (or the individual to whom he is attached); assessment is in terms of his current activities, rather than the background of his birth. After admission to the group, provided that his ability and achievements are not below standard, it is almost certain he will be able to climb the vertical ladder of the internal hierarchy. Certainly, as he goes higher in the hierarchy he will face more intense competition with his colleagues, but the range of success and failure in such a limited field is not wide, however intense both his own and his peers' feelings within the group. Hence the decisive factor in success is the opportunity for entry to a particular group.

Since a group is based on a rigid hierarchical order, the individual is allowed to enter only at the bottom of the hierarchy; entry at any other point would disrupt the order and the links between existing members. In this system it is more advantageous for a man to remain in the same group than to move from one group to another. To stay in the same group is to climb the ladder in the course of time, since the group recruits new members who are placed beneath him, while older members above him fall out either through retirement or death; thus, in due time, he can accumulate a kind of social capital by remaining in the same group. This social capital, of course, cannot be transferred with him if he moves to another group.

It happens occasionally in the industrial field that a distinguished and highly qualified individual is invited to join another institution with the offer of a much higher salary. However, having climbed the ladder to be, say, section head, such an individual is normally reluctant to accept an offer, even if it amounts to twice or three times his existing salary. He would carefully calculate the economic gain against the loss of accumulated social capital: the company by which he is employed has prestige and pays him, at his rank, a salary no lower than is standard in Japan, though it is in no way appropriate to his ability and effort; the company has promised successive promotion so long as he stays with the company (and even without a contractual statement to this effect, he has faith in this promise). On the other hand, the company which has made the offer of a higher salary on the strength of his merit may not be able to guarantee similar promotion prospects ― or at least he is unable to expect such promotion, in that he has not put in a long term of service. He thinks ahead to the point where his ability begins to wane; if he stays with his present company his future is assured and he will be promoted to a higher administrative office even after his talents and his usefulness begin to decline. Again, the change of companies would mean the loss of his colleagues and friends, and would put him into quite unfamiliar surroundings, where he would not be at all sure about personal relations ― this is a vital consideration for a Japanese, as will be discussed in the next section. These considerations, then, of security and prestige, sufficiently outweigh the attraction of a much higher income and lead him in the end to decline the offer. He is familiar enough with the long

2. The web or comradeship

3. Localism and tangibility


Concluding Remarks


Notas:

1) I find it difficult to choose an English equivalent for kaisha: though 'company' or 'enterprise' correspond etymologically, they do not have the social implications that the word kaisha has for a Japanese.

2) I think that, in this analysis, it is effective and convenient to employ the differentiated concepts, social structure and social organization, as proposed by Raymond Firth ('Social Organization an Social Change', Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol. 84, pp. 1-20, 1954; the same paper appears as Chapter III of Essays on Social Organization and Values, 1964).

3) Certainly there exists what may be called a standard norm or commonality which is shared by Japanese households as a whole (or, more precisely, by a local community or different strata), but within this context each individual household normally has its own ways to regulate the behaviour and speech of individual members.

4) J. C. Abegglen, The Japanese Factory, 1958, Chapter 2.

5) For an excellent statement of conditions, see Abegglen, op. cit., Chapter 1.

6) San is the most general form of address, equivalent to Mr, Mrs, or Miss. The differentiations here discussed apply only to men: women do not use such elaborate address terms in general social life, though in a special group (for example, among geisha) a similar pattern is found in the usage of different terms.

7) The use of the first name in Japan is confined mainly to children. Among adults, it is employed only in relation to those who had close relations in childhood. One is addressed by the first name only by parents, siblings, close relatives and childhood friends.

8) See Chapter 3, particularly pp. 95-7 for detailed explanation.

9) Age and sex are superseded by status. For example, the head of a household, regardless of age, occupies the highest seat; his retired father retreats to a lower seat. Age will become a deciding factor only among persons of similar status. Status also precedes sex. It is well known that Japanese women are nearly always ranked as inferiors; this is not because their sex is considered inferior, but because women seldom hold higher social status. Difference of sex will never be so pronounced in Japanese thinking as in America, where classification (though not for purposes of establishing rank) is primarily by sex. I am convinced that in American society sex-consciousness predominates over status-conciousness, the exact opposite of Japan.

10) The ranking of sempai and kōhai is determined by the year of graduation from university, which is always one of the narrow group of leading universities.


El libro original puede hallarse como:

NAKANE, Chie. Japanese Society. Editorial Penguin Books. Segunda reimpresión de la primera edición revisada, 1977; Gran Bretańa. Colección Pelikan Books.


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