SCANDAL IN JAPAN

Foreword by Joy Hendry

This latest new contribution to our series calls itself “interdisciplinary” and indeed refers to works from several disciplines, notably philology, media studies and cultural sociology, according to the author’s own Introduction. However, when Igor Prusa presented a paper to the Japan Anthropology Workshop in Barcelona in July 2022, at our first in-person gathering since the Covid-19 lockdown, his approach went down wonderfully well with our anthropological audience. Indeed, I was not the only editor to ask him about joining a book series, and I am delighted that our Board agreed with my assessment. This book is pure social anthropological analysis in my view: call it what you will!

There are, of course, references to our standard works: to Turner, as may be inferred from the title; to Mary Douglas, as the content of the book will reveal; to Gluckman’s work on gossip; and to – my favorite – Levi-Strauss on tricksters. As usual in this series, the discussion of Japanese scandals brings us to the heart of understanding how Japanese society works. Three scandals are described in detail, each from a different area of society and, actually, are eventually shown to vary quite substantially, but that ethnographic material is meticulously analyzed within the major institutions that make up the social structure, and they demonstrate a very neat and clever understanding of the way that Japanese society works in practice.

The theoretical framework is not limited to Japan, indeed the nature and background of all the scandals discussed will be familiar to readers everywhere. As Prusa explains, “scandal can be conceived of as social statement, or a declaration of what values are considered by the society to be sacred… reminding players of the rules of the game”. Using the same principles of folk tales of the ancient world, journalists of modern society use narrative form to become storytellers “following an adventurous pursuit of truth” eventually producing a good supply of books and films, all generating commercial profit.

However, Prusa goes on to consider the language used in the Japanese accounts, particularly the importance of the words chosen, and he identifies examples of Japan’s “long tradition of indirect communication”, allowing “blurring sources and obfuscating reports” in the accounts. This kind of detailed analysis opens a window into the specifically Japanese characteristics of the way scandals are handled in Japan, and ultimately, what we can learn about the three major cultural components of his analysis, namely celebrity, politics and corporations. In each case scandals come and go, they are dealt with, and life moves on.

The arguments made here are disarmingly clear. Prusa sets out diagrams to illustrate them, but only at the very end of the book does he directly address a subject which bothered me throughout, and that is the extent to which Japanese society is actually being changed by the so-called corruption which is being unearthed. The three major scandals discussed are “framed as a problem of a few corrupt individuals, but, as a matter of fact, their alleged corruption was rooted in institutional norms and political structures”, he writes. Whether or not this is actually “corruption” or just the way Japanese society works, I will leave up to you, the reader, to decide. Definitely a compelling read! 

Joy Hendry, Professor Emerita

Oxford Brookes University

Japan Anthropology Workshop Series (JAWS) 

Introduction by Igor Prusa

I was never really interested in scandals. They were part of my mediated reality, but I paid attention to them only when they were juicy enough. Even now, I, at times, feel that studying scandals is a Sisyphean task, given the few social consequences they have, and the shallow, repetitive content they usually offer. Moreover, the topic of scandal still seems to be perceived as too frivolous and fleeting to arouse serious academic attention. However, during my first doctoral research on Japanese media at Charles University in Prague, I inevitably stumbled upon scandal theory and realized that scandal in Japan and elsewhere is not as frivolous as it may appear. It is a multifaceted social phenomenon that indeed deserves academic scrutiny: while serving the interests of media organizations, scandals define social norms, reflect societal values and manage transgressions. Besides, my other research focuses on the function of transgression in anti-heroic fiction (Prusa 2016; Prusa and Brummer 2022) and so I realized that the basic tenets of fictional transgression (including the dialectic of crime and punishment) can be translated into the discourse of factual news reporting. While making use of my original training as a Japanese philologist, I decided to explore how scandals function in Japan, and consider their usual symbolic implications.

I started working on this study at the University of Tokyo, where I had been since 2008, writing my second doctorate, titled “Scandal, Ritual and Media in Postwar Japan” and supervised by Professor Yoshimi Shunya. In the beginning, I was simply astonished by the media extravaganza that surrounded every minor transgression in a society that emphasizes consensus and harmony. I was particularly struck by the kabuki-like quality of Japanese scandals, where the disgraced elites assume their ritualized role, repeat a standard set of phrases, shed a couple of tears, and bow deeply in a shower of camera flashes. The televised shaming of Japanese elites crying over spilled milk can be related to what Waite and Brooker (2005) labeled as “humilitainment”. While depicting the falls of others, this form of entertainment offers to scandal-hungry audiences a pseudo-sadistic spectacle of public outrage and shame, while generating commercial profit. I soon realized that the form of Japanese scandal, by necessity, prevails over its content, but I was not yet aware of the mediopolitical machinery behind these spectacles. Notwithstanding my initial disinterest in scandals, I came to acknowledge that they indeed represent “culturally meaningful products” (Geertz 1973) that can reveal a great deal about the society which produces them.

I approached Japanese scandals really seriously only after I was literally touched by one of them – namely the celebrity scandal of Sakai Noriko from 2009. On one early summer morning, I was awakened in my dormitory, located on the artificial island of Odaiba, by buzzing sounds of helicopters approaching my location. The situation resembled that of a serial-killer chase, but I soon found out that the extraordinary frenzy pointed to Sakai Noriko, a popular Japanese idol who was now being held for illicit drug use in Odaiba detention center, which was located next to my dormitory. Perhaps needless to say, the helicopters belonged to Japanese media organizations who struggled to offer a glimpse of Sakai’s whereabouts from the bird’s-eye perspective. My initial impression was that more than pursuing social consensus based on rational conflict resolution, Japanese scandals rather portend outrage, disgrace and humiliation. I also noticed that the insignificant “moral disturbances” of Japanese female celebrities lead to intense public shaming and media over-exposure, while male politicians are treated rather benevolently, scheming their comeback as soon as the scandal fades out.

The media-supported “scandal culture” seems to be experiencing a historical boom since the new millennium in Japan. Scandal became a cultural constant, while scandal coverage moved from non-routine to routine mode. It is not unusual anymore that serious magazines publish, toward year-end, their “apology calendars” (shazai karendā), overfilled with bowing politicians and sobbing celebrities (e.g. Nikkei Bijinesu, December 16, 2019), while other weeklies speculate whose scandal will be the first in the coming year (e.g. Tōkyō Supōtsu, January 9, 2020). However, the never-ending cries of corruption, the scandal frenzies, and the apathy of the Japanese public are often misunderstood by foreign observers, who limit themselves to tongue-in-cheek explanations of the “ridiculousness” of Japanese scandals. Still, these layperson voices motivated me to specify the central questions of my study: what is the media logic behind Japanese scandals? and how are scandals constituted by the ritualized performances of their actors?

In the West, media scandals, pseudo-events and fake news have increasingly been brought to the forefront of both mass media dialogue and academic discourse (see The Routledge Companion to Media and Scandal from 2019). However, despite the enormous proliferation of scandal in Japan, there remains a dearth of analytic and empirical research that would examine its complex nature in the given context. Further, the existing literature often leaves many important considerations unaddressed, including social, cultural and psychological interpretations of Japanese scandal. My research seeks to fill this considerable gap in scholarly literature.

The book is divided into six chapters. Following this introduction, I provide a basic theoretical background for understanding scandals in Chapter 2. Chapter 3 offers three case studies of Japanese media scandal, namely the celebrity scandal of Sakai Noriko, the political scandal of Ozawa Ichirō, and the corporate scandal of Olympus. Chapters 4 and 5 offer an advanced theoretical framework for interpreting scandal in contemporary Japan: the former approaches scandals as performative rituals and confessional ceremonies, while the latter looks at scandal as a product of media routines and journalistic practices. Chapter 6 offers a comparative analysis of all the scandals analyzed in Chapter 3, and it is closed with concluding remarks.

Igor Prusa

Ambis University Prague & Metropolitan University Prague