Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The Sociology of Inequality

 As I mentioned in my original post, I am a student of Psychology and Sociology. I believe them to be very broadly relevant subjects, as do many universities, clearly, since they are considered mandatory courses for most first-year students. As I look back, I'm glad I chose to study these subjects in depth, even if they are somewhat under-appreciated in the marketplace. This is because I believe they are incredibly useful in building a working understanding of the complex motivations of individuals, the grand social dynamics that shape the world, and the intricate web of cause and effect that links the two together. More and more of us are coming to the realization that we live in a world where everything is connected, and if any of us are to ever have a hope of understanding the world in any real and meaningful way, it is important to have a grasp of just how these intricate connections interact.

 Many of us enjoy playing armchair psychologist for our friends, or bandying about pet social theories over a beer at the pub, and so we think of these topics as intuitive, but the more research is done, the more this proves not to be the case. While some of the key factors that contribute to healthier individuals and societies may be fairly easy to understand, there are also a great many factors that we have, historically, gotten wrong over and over, and continue to do so today. This is why I consider Psychology and Sociology sciences like any other, where it is important to acquire empirical evidence, and use it to refine our knowledge in a systematic way. Sometimes it is hard to maintain the necessary objectivity because of how personal our views of individuality and politics are to us, but it is precisely because these subjects are so relevant to improving our lives that we must struggle to remain objective, and respect what the research tells us, even if it conflicts with a preconceived belief. I don't think it at all hyperbolic to argue that the future of our global society depends on our ability to do this.

 When I was in school, there was a particular theory that resonated with me, because it seemed to explain much about our needs as human beings with fairly elegant simplicity. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs was an attempt by Abraham Maslow to understand the motivations of the individual, however, I believe it can be extrapolated to explain a great deal about the potential benefits of poverty reduction and education, the existence of social classes, why inequality exists at all in society, and why it is ultimately self-defeating for any society that tolerates it. More information is available here:


 In a nutshell however, Maslow was a believer in the potential of human beings to achieve great things, if only given the opportunity. He postulated that there are sets of needs that we as human beings are driven to meet, beginning with the most physiological such as food, water, air and shelter, and rising to more social and intellectual needs – in order: safety, love, esteem, and ultimately self-actualization. He maintained that while more basic needs remain unfulfilled, we cannot effectively address higher needs, and spend very little time considering them. While it is fashionable in conservative circles to believe the poor lazy when they don't “pull themselves out of poverty”, this simplistic view fails to consider how the poor often do just that when given sufficient opportunity, and the basic resources they need to think about more than living hand-to-mouth. Depriving people of basic necessities in order to create “incentive” has proven to be a cruel and futile effort, tantamount to class warfare.

 For most of us, it is possible to imagine that a young mind with the potential to be another Albert Einstein could very well exist in the slums of an impoverished city, but might never graduate from high school, being constantly preoccupied with the admittedly more pressing question of where his (or her) next meal is coming from. This, I fear, is exactly the scenario being played out in many parts of the world, and when one thinks about this being played out hundreds of millions of times over, one can start to get a true sense of the amount of human potential being lost. The fact that this can happen at all in a society is, to me at least, representative of a failure on the part of that society. After all, at the core of the social contract is an understanding that by working collectively, we can ensure that more of our common needs are met. At this point in history, with our technology and experience, we should in any part of the world be able to guarantee every citizen their most fundamental rights, and to not do this is to admit either incompetence or corruption. Furthermore, by failing to ensure the security of basic needs for citizens, governments are by extension failing to provide even the possibility to pursue other needs. This robs individuals of not only their material needs in the present, but of any real possibility of a meaningful future.

 Compounding this is the fact that poverty and its concomitant problem of poor education are often self-perpetuating across generations, particularly so without state assistance. Poverty simply breeds poverty, and while there are admirable exceptions - people who have beaten the odds and escaped poverty – this does not change the fact that the system, as it is, has essentially stacked the odds against them. In this case, where the system does not serve the majority, it is the system that needs to change, not the people. What makes this difficult is the prejudice against the poor that gradually becomes entrenched in a society. Classes evolve as this sort of state failure becomes systemic, and what may begin as a economic downturn may, over time, turn into what we are seeing in the United States today. While the wealthy once struck a balance with the rest of society, it is now considered morally acceptable to eliminate subsidies for the poor and create further breaks for the super–wealthy, a situation that only fifty years ago would have been considered morally contemptible. What has made it particularly easy in this case is that the media has colluded in convincing the lower classes that they too can “make it” some day as well, thus dulling their sympathies for their average fellow citizens. The reality, however, is that most of this generation will see their economic prospects decline, and the majority have mortgaged their future and their children's future on a long shot, rather than fighting for their rights.

 Time after time, social studies have demonstrated that inequality is toxic to societies, and although I typically let my readers do their own homework in regards to points that I make, this is critically important enough for me to make an exception and share the following:



 If we are concerned at all about creating more just and prosperous societies as we move into the future, it is imperative that we start to clearly understand these facts, and act upon them in measured and appropriate ways. There are some fundamental fallacies and a few outright lies that underpin our current system, such as the myth of perpetual growth in a closed system, or the myth of trickle-down economics. No system based on a falsehood can survive for very long when tested against reality, and we are already watching as our current economic model creaks and groans, a sputtering testimony to what happens when greed is put before humanity and common sense.  

Monday, November 11, 2013

Mind the Politeness Gap



 Living in Japan, it's highlighted for me every day that there is a large gap between the Western standard for politeness and the Japanese. A gaping chasm, really. Japanese society, having evolved over hundreds of years towards a very structured and hierarchical state of organization, takes politeness and formality very seriously. This is most likely a remnant of the time, not so long ago, when hurt feelings could result in a samurai sword through the midriff. Understandable, but difficult to adapt to sometimes, especially for those of us who tend toward bluntness, and who generally don't like to sugar-coat anything. This typically describes Westerners, but I've known my share of Japanese who find this aspect of their own culture a bit grating. 

 As someone who came from a Catholic school, where the standards were wearing uniforms, attending masses, and a “kill-them-with-kindness” approach, I came to rebel against this, and to detest excessive formality. To me, it rang of a certain...insincerity, and I came to appreciate and admire people who simply spoke their minds. If we're talking role models, think George Carlin, or more recently, Christopher Hitchens. Whether people like them or not, most of us find contrarians simply more interesting, and for good reason. They articulate the things that many of us think, but censor ourselves from saying out of concern for how others might perceive us. In this way, they keep public dialogue from becoming too stilted and one-sided, and because open dialogue is the backbone of any democracy, they are critical to ensuring democracies thrive. Sometimes feelings may be bruised, but this is the price we pay for our freedoms. 

 I should clarify at this point that I am indeed aware that consideration of others is a fundamental building block upon which successful societies are built; I'm not advocating rudeness. However, where I draw the line is in taking this too far, in the vain and even counter-productive hope that you may always avoid hurting anyone's feelings. A very apt term that I've heard describe this is the “disease to please”. While it's generally a good idea to be a decent human being, spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about what others think of you is not only tiring, but ultimately futile, as there is really very little you can do about it. Despite whatever precautions you may take, there will always be someone who insists on taking offence, and so I generally find it best for my own personal sanity to save my energy for more productive pursuits than handling everyone with kid gloves. It's not that I don't care, it's that I care too much about people to humor them when they're wrong. It's this aspect of my personality that often causes me to bite my tongue until it bleeds in Japan. 


 I'm certainly willing to admit that often Western civilization could stand to learn a lot from the Japanese. It can be, at times, a little too blunt, bordering on crudity or thoughtlessness, and this is the other extreme to be avoided. Once, Ghandi was asked what he thought of Western civilization, and he replied “I think it would be a very good idea.” He had a point – sometimes calling the West civilized does seem a bit of a stretch. I believe that there is a happy middle ground to be reached, and perhaps this is why I've worked so hard to help build bridges between our respective cultures. The most important thing, I think, is to get to the truth, and to attempt to honestly answer whatever questions we collectively face. Western countries are (usually) quite good at this, but in the public sphere (especially lately) we would do well to remember that we are all in this together, and this notion is one that the Japanese truly understand. I am a staunch admirer of the mutually supportive nature of every Japanese community, and I believe that Western culture can learn a lot from this example. 

 Politeness and formality do have their place, but they must not prevent important questions from being asked, even if these questions are sometimes uncomfortable. I hope that as the world becomes increasingly inter-connected, as it has continued to become at an ever-increasing pace, we can also learn from one another, and find a middle road that draws from the best of every culture.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

An Open Letter to My Students



 Working at Junior High Schools in rural Japan, I have come to grudgingly accept the fact that for now, at least, very little of what I say to you in English classes will get through. Some of you, of course, are like English All-Stars, and shine like bright beacons of hope in, let's be honest, an otherwise English-poor country. The rest of you I see struggle, and I can only hope that you persevere. Your education system is what it is, and although I could fill this letter with suggestions to improve both it and your English comprehension, I will save that tirade for another time. I will say, however, that it is improving, and after recently meeting with the director of the JET Programme at CLAIR, I am convinced that there is a genuine desire to make your English education more effective. My goal in this letter is simply to communicate to you why English is important to your future and the future of your country, because I genuinely do care about both. I also realize that a letter in English may not be the ideal way to communicate, but I'm working on a translation that will hopefully be soon to follow. In the meantime, I can only hope that the message may percolate down to you through your teachers or other English speakers. 

 Foremost, I would like you to be acutely aware that Japan is not only an island nation, but a language island as well. The fact that very few people outside Japan speak Japanese tends to isolate you from the outside world, by making it difficult for Japanese people to function when they travel outside of Japan, and also by making it difficult for outsiders to function when living in Japan. This is an unfortunate characteristic in an age when the world is increasingly more connected and interdependent, and this cultural isolation can do damage to Japan on several levels in the long run.

 One aspect of this isolation is that it effectively prevents the positive aspects of other cultures from reaching Japan, and prevents other cultures from gaining any deep understanding of Japan's culture. I find this particularly sad, as I believe we all have much to learn from each other. In the Meiji era, Japan was considered adept at adopting the best practices used in other countries, and this strategy could be just as effective at revitalizing an ageing Japan today, but language remains a barrier to making this process as smooth as it could be. I also believe that the rest of the world could learn a great deal from Japan about cooperation, community spirit, and determination in the face of adversity. I hope that in the future, a much more English-fluent population will help to facilitate this exchange between Japan and the rest of the world. On a more personal level, speaking an international language will also offer Japanese people the opportunity to make new friends around the world, an experience that I have always valued very highly in my own life.

 Another factor to consider is that the language of international business is English, and Japanese people, facing a slowing economy at home, would see vastly more opportunity both at home and abroad if they speak English more proficiently. The simple truth is, when conducting international business, companies are reluctant to do business in a country where language barriers will be a problem, and they typically desire employees that can converse with other employees and business partners from around the globe. This ability is becoming an increasingly standard requirement in the world today, and I would hate to see Japan or any of my students be left behind because they lack it. Especially in a rural community like Miyakojima, English can be a passport to a larger world and a more comfortable life. Even in a local context, English opens doors into the tourism industry, which is not only lucrative, but by many accounts very rewarding.

 Finally, it has been shown that having more than one language has a way of changing one's thinking, and broadening one's mind. It allows you to think in new ways that may not be as obvious in your native tongue, to see novel solutions to old problems, and to retain a mental flexibility that tends to last into old age. There is also, of course, a sense of pride that comes when understanding begins to dawn; when a language that was previously opaque to you suddenly starts to become clear. I hope, after studying English for years, you will eventually experience this moment, and that you will find it as rewarding as I did when I started to grasp basic Japanese. I hope that you will make the most of our time together, and I promise that I will do whatever I can to not only help you, but to make English as interesting and engaging an experience as possible.