Dear all,

I am enjoying the on-going discussions.

In terms of who has the legitimate right to put forth criticism, I
detect in the impulse of certain long-time 'outsiders' in Japan to
gain legitimacy for their own commentary and participation by removing form themselves
the stigma attached to the 'foreign minority' with which they are in danger of being categorized.
This type of psychological 'stain removal' is a common response by members of minority communities, as identified by
Goffman. In this case, the stigma attached to western scholars of
Japan may be summed up as follows: "Although primarily
ignorant of Japan, you want to 'interfere' with things you actually
know nothing about because of your assumed cultural superiority."

One defense when confronted by such a stereotype/accusation is to accept it for the
group while exempting oneself: "Although my group is in fact guilty of
carrying this stain--and deserves to be stigmatized-- I myself am free of it." In other words, although
the comments of 'foreigners' about Japan are marked by over-emphasis on
culture and steeped in ignorance, my own comments are legitimate
because: (a) I have more experience living here than they do, (b)
I have acquired Japanese nationality (c) I am willing to adopt an approach
similarly chauvinistic as that promoted by right-wing nationalists, rendering
any criticism of any aspect of Japan that has foreign origins to be 'suspect' or 'racist'.

I myself do not find it as easy to distinguish between legitimate analysis and criticism and
claims latent with airs of 'superiority,' but I want to stand against the attempt to
silence certain commentators. For people who find discussions in which foreigners
are participating to be tiresome, the clear solution would be to turn to
other discussions. Non-Japanese, just like foreigners everywhere in the world,
bring a unique and valuable perspective to discussions. I would find it appalling
to suggest that Chinese, Koreans or Japanese should not comment on Germany
or America unless they first have solved the problems in their home nations. The
same applies to the case of Japan.

Of course, there is always a nationalistic audience eager to welcome attacks on
'foreign' commentary. It is undoubtedly true that a great deal of
commentary written around the world is ethnocentric, which, of course,
would apply equally to Japanese and people who have lived in Japan for
decades as to others. In other words, there is no 'high ground' from
which one can safely pronounce about the inevitable biases of
targeted populations such as "foreigners writing about Japan," which
of course includes Koreans, Chinese, Filipinos and Zainichi as well as
Europeans and Americans. Is there any real evidence that demonstrates
that the great body of contemporary writing on Japan by non-Japanese is aimed to
promote notions of cultural superiority? This seems a rather astonishing claim,
aimed to deligitimize an enormous body of scholarship.

I wonder how many scholars anywhere would feel comfortable
claiming a proven track record of reform. In my experience,
most of our lives center on small communities and institutions
that we try to make incrementally better. We do this wherever we
live in dialog with others who belong to the institutions. Ideas for reforms
come from everywhere. In my experiences teaching in Japan,
some of the ideas dominating university reform-- notions such
as "faculty development" (fd), "active learning" and departmental reforms
that attempt to link skills taught in individual courses to departmental
objectives -- have clear origins in Europe and the US. In other words,
there is really no possibility of locating 'pure' Japanese
knowledge or native belief, or separating Japanese scholarship from
non-Japanese scholarship.

Of course, critique is never based on any proven track record.
If only those who had proven experience in creating a peaceful
world were allowed to criticize violence, we would have
never had Gandhi, Mandela or countless others. To me,
what is tiresome is to read an account dismissing scholars
primarily because they come from different backgrounds,
as if only US generals were allowed to criticize the US
military. The absurd premises of such an attack should be obvious.

I don't find pent-up frustration in the commentary that I have read here.
Japan is an increasingly pluralistic nation. Just as elsewhere,
the residents of Japan--nationals and non-nationals--are deeply
divided on ideas about governance, education and society. There
is no 'us' just as there is no 'them'. Instead, there is cacophony.
What this should mean is that all voices are welcome, and that
ideas inevitably cross ethnicity and nationality. The idea that
there is a legitimate native-born criticism of institutions in Japan;
and an illegitimate, foreign-derived criticism seems ill conceived.

For places such as Okinawa, the occupation continues in many ways,
so I find it strange to read commentary that imagines our time to
be one free of US military and geopolitical domination. What are we
to make of Okinawan criticisms of mainland Japanese university
education? Universities such as Kyoto University and Hokkaido University
continue to refuse to return the remains of indigenous Okinawans and Ainu
gathered during the Meiji period. If a foreign scholar adds their
voice to such criticism, does it become illegitimate? What are we to make
of a voice that says: "solve the problems of indigenous
people in your homeland before interfering here!"? Only a scholar
committed to the most narrow chauvinism would accept such a position.

The problem of Eurocentric knowledge is a preoccupation
of postcolonialism. It is not one that will be solved through
overly generalized condemnations, but rather exists as a part of modernity itself.
There is, in fact, a history of perhaps exaggerated interest in Japanese culture, both by Japanese
and non-Japanese scholars. Unsurprisingly, it comes with a name--"nihonjin-ron."
In all honesty, the word itself seems to perpetuate what it criticizes. Suffice it to say
that the prevalence of national culture as a unit of analysis is at least equally true
in writings by Japanese scholars as non-Japanese scholars.

As critics such as Naoki Sakai point out, however, preoccupation
with Japanese culture and identity arises from the need historically felt to explain, or excuse,
being different from the west. If modernity is eurocentric, than it imposes
a demand on non-western societies to explain how they are simultaneously modern but
different. This perhaps explains why there is less reliance of 'cultural explanations'
in Europe or America. An interesting comparison would be to examine
nations such as China, Korea, Turkey or Mexico--to give a few random examples--
to see the extent to which local and foreign scholars employ cultural explanations.

Is it possible to write about school bullying in America, the UK or Japan without
addressing culture? Isn't it inevitable that analyses will discuss societal changes,
current conditions of adolescence, changes in communication and identity formation
in such analyses? The more relevant question should be: is there a clear, identifiable difference in scholarly
writing about bullying in Japan between foreign and Japanese scholars? I am skeptical. Wouldn't most
foreign scholars be highly indebted to Japanese scholarship on the subject? Wouldn't
studies that invoked national culture tend to be comparative, inevitably invoking a
contrasting national culture? Rather than irresponsibly denigrate entire bodies of scholarship,
isn't it more worthwhile to focus on ground-breaking, well-researched scholarship, regardless of
the language in which it is originally written or the nationality of the writer? Do we really want to
entertain an argument that suggests that only Japanese scholars are legitimately able to address
bullying because scholars writing in English will inevitably fall into cultural racism?

Who can speak? About what? Who gets to decide? I reject the demand that certain
voices 'shut up' and 'go home'. I do not believe that being white and male,
having written in Japanese and English, having taught in Japan for 20 years, or having children
in Japanese schools grants the authority to silence others. I find this rhetorical maneuver astonishing.

As a ludicrous defense of my position, let me provide the absurd example of

The Ink Dark Moon: Love Poems by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu,

translated beautifully by the poet Jane Hirshfield, who, astonishingly, cannot even read Japanese.

The point is that different experience and social positions bring varying and delightful insights to

those capable of listening. For some of us, getting a lucrative
consulting contract is not the purpose of scholarship.

Suppose we set aside discussion of Japan and foreigners who write about it
for a moment and consider that all of us may be, as scientist from around the world
tells us, inhabiting a veritable climate and ecological crisis. If we accept
that this is our condition, we have no choice but to conclude that our institutions are
failing us, wherever we are in the world. They are, in other words, not responding at all
with the speed or urgency that is required. If it is the most impoverished in the world
who will suffer foremost from climate change, can criticizing the failed response of
institutions in wealthy nations be called 'racist'? Such an argument only holds water
in the clouds of those ensconced in the abstract. The current situation is resulting in
millions of death from carbon pollution each year, an on-going extinction of plant and animal species,
resulting in an unrecoverable loss of biodiversity and a threat to human civilization everywhere.

Under such urgent demand for change, I suggest that, while
retaining humility, we must, those of us who accept the danger
that we face, especially in the midst of growing extreme inequality
in the world, enter into dialog with those around us and work for change
without fear of being called an institutional or cultural racist. I am
along side of many Japanese who share these sympathies.

Charles Cabell