paramount. Independence and self-determination were the keys to survival and became the backbone of our ethos.
“Japanese society, on the other hand,” Tony went on, “is traditionally close-knit, with crowded living conditions requiring inhabitants who are attentive, responsive and reserved, just to avoid stepping on one another’s toes. In other words, in Japan, your problem is my problem. You follow?”
“I think so.”
“So then, just after World War II, we missed an opportunity. A post-Pearl Harbor/Hiroshima Japan was in the mood for reform—for reconciliation and rebirth—and we were more than happy to tell them just how great democracy can be. The Japanese saw the US in a phase of prosperity and embraced democracy in the hope they could rebuild themselves to find similar fortune. But they embraced their version of democracy—the textbook version—which once again . . .”
“Is a culturally different one from our own.”
“Right again.”
Tony went on to explain how the Japanese defined “democracy” at its base meaning—as a system that gives everyone equal rights to participate in the decision-making process—but soon discovered that American democracy is more about the right to individual advancement. He told David how Americans often point out that the Japanese do not know what democracy really is, while the Japanese find it strange to see the authoritarian nature of American society.
“I get you,” said David. “A communication gaffe from the get-go—but how does all this affect your approach to someone like Nagoshi?”
“Good question,” said Tony, now adjusting his position on the grass to face his friend front-on. “In fact, that was exactly what I was wondering as I was sitting in some conference room with a ‘localization analyst’ instead of billing three-figure hours at my desk. But what I soon discovered was that disregarding these cultural anomalies was tantamount to career suicide. The value of our legal advice depends on us understanding their motives, and they understanding ours—which can so easily be misread by both sides.
“Take language, for example,” said Tony, now squinting into the descending afternoon sun. “Pronunciation, sentence structure, syntax, semantics, and the difference in the way Japanese and English handle expressions of respect and humility . . . everything about English is different from Japanese and when we add accents and colloquialisms the problem multiplies tenfold.
“And then you have the nonverbal stuff,” he continued, obviously eager to get his point across, his voice raising a little, his pace upping a beat. “Like knowing a nod is not necessarily a ‘yes,’ that a ‘ hai ’—the Japanese word for ‘yes’—is often used to indicate they are listening but not that they agree.”
“Wow,” said David. “I see what you mean.”
Tony nodded. “We’re a hands-on bunch, DC. So we shake and hug and pat on the back, whereas the Japanese may find this an invasion of their personal space. They don’t like to maintain eye contact and we find that uncomfortable,” he added without taking a breath. “We talk the leg off a chair while the Japanese prefer concise verbal communications. We are encouraged to be clear and assertive while they are brought up to read the more subtle unspoken signals.
“So my point is . . . it can be . . .”
David could see his friend was running out of steam and wondered why all of this “information” on Japanese relations had spewed from his friend’s normally neatly organized conscience this afternoon. Tony was agitated—there was no doubt about it. But David wasn’t sure if he should press for the real meaning behind his impromptu sociology lecture, or leave it to Tony to decide when, and how much to . . .
“I don’t trust him,” said Tony at last, his eyes now set on a Massachusetts Bay Transport Authority shuttle boat heading across the harbor to Logan Airport.
“Who Tony?”
“Japanese society, on the other hand,” Tony went on, “is traditionally close-knit, with crowded living conditions requiring inhabitants who are attentive, responsive and reserved, just to avoid stepping on one another’s toes. In other words, in Japan, your problem is my problem. You follow?”
“I think so.”
“So then, just after World War II, we missed an opportunity. A post-Pearl Harbor/Hiroshima Japan was in the mood for reform—for reconciliation and rebirth—and we were more than happy to tell them just how great democracy can be. The Japanese saw the US in a phase of prosperity and embraced democracy in the hope they could rebuild themselves to find similar fortune. But they embraced their version of democracy—the textbook version—which once again . . .”
“Is a culturally different one from our own.”
“Right again.”
Tony went on to explain how the Japanese defined “democracy” at its base meaning—as a system that gives everyone equal rights to participate in the decision-making process—but soon discovered that American democracy is more about the right to individual advancement. He told David how Americans often point out that the Japanese do not know what democracy really is, while the Japanese find it strange to see the authoritarian nature of American society.
“I get you,” said David. “A communication gaffe from the get-go—but how does all this affect your approach to someone like Nagoshi?”
“Good question,” said Tony, now adjusting his position on the grass to face his friend front-on. “In fact, that was exactly what I was wondering as I was sitting in some conference room with a ‘localization analyst’ instead of billing three-figure hours at my desk. But what I soon discovered was that disregarding these cultural anomalies was tantamount to career suicide. The value of our legal advice depends on us understanding their motives, and they understanding ours—which can so easily be misread by both sides.
“Take language, for example,” said Tony, now squinting into the descending afternoon sun. “Pronunciation, sentence structure, syntax, semantics, and the difference in the way Japanese and English handle expressions of respect and humility . . . everything about English is different from Japanese and when we add accents and colloquialisms the problem multiplies tenfold.
“And then you have the nonverbal stuff,” he continued, obviously eager to get his point across, his voice raising a little, his pace upping a beat. “Like knowing a nod is not necessarily a ‘yes,’ that a ‘ hai ’—the Japanese word for ‘yes’—is often used to indicate they are listening but not that they agree.”
“Wow,” said David. “I see what you mean.”
Tony nodded. “We’re a hands-on bunch, DC. So we shake and hug and pat on the back, whereas the Japanese may find this an invasion of their personal space. They don’t like to maintain eye contact and we find that uncomfortable,” he added without taking a breath. “We talk the leg off a chair while the Japanese prefer concise verbal communications. We are encouraged to be clear and assertive while they are brought up to read the more subtle unspoken signals.
“So my point is . . . it can be . . .”
David could see his friend was running out of steam and wondered why all of this “information” on Japanese relations had spewed from his friend’s normally neatly organized conscience this afternoon. Tony was agitated—there was no doubt about it. But David wasn’t sure if he should press for the real meaning behind his impromptu sociology lecture, or leave it to Tony to decide when, and how much to . . .
“I don’t trust him,” said Tony at last, his eyes now set on a Massachusetts Bay Transport Authority shuttle boat heading across the harbor to Logan Airport.
“Who Tony?”
Similar Books
