19 Years
Saturday, December 4th, 2010Two days ago, FIFA announced the sites for the 2018 and 2022 World Cup. The winners were Russia and Qatar. The unsuccessful bidders were many, but Japan stood out for me, mainly because I just returned from Tokyo on Monday and because of a memorable TV drama I had just witnessed while visiting.
Last week-end while busily packing my bags, I had a chance to watch a most riveting program on Japanese TV about a Japanese diplomat in Sweden, Kennichiro Nogami, who tried to secretly negotiate the end of WWII for his nation in 1945. Once his role was uncovered, he was viewed as a traitor and had to feign his own death in Europe to protect his wife and daughter in Japan. The story happens in 1964, 19 years after the end of the Pacific War as the Japanese would call it. Nogami returns to Japan in secret one last time to make peace with his choices, and to see his daughter.
My knowledge of Japanese history being so poor, I googled Kennichiro Noguchi, thinking I would find a deeply inspiring story of a patriot who defied the nation, someone who had the vision and courage to do what others were unwilling to do. Instead I found the story of Seicho Matsumoto, a famous writer who penned a best selling novel “Kyukei no Koya“.
So the whole TV program was fiction. But the setting was riveting. Only 19 years after the end of a most devastating war, Japan was reborn from ashes. In only 19 years, the nation went from utter ruins to the host of the first Modern Olympic Games in Asia. They built bullet trains and the tallest structure in the world at the time–the Tokyo Tower. Six years later, they hosted one of the most successful World Expos creating an attendance record broken only 40 years later by the Shanghai Expo.
The question that faced Nogami had always been–is this the Japan he dreamed of? And with the opening ceremonies of the Tokyo Olympics in the background, it was hard to argue that the traitor wasn’t actually the hero.
Back then, Japanese cars were still the laughing stock of the world. But they dreamed big dreams. People with names like Toyota and Honda and Matsushita were decades ahead of the competition in thinking global. Trading firms like Itochu, Mitsubishi, Mitsui, and Sumitomo sent their “shosha-man” all over the world. People were unafraid. It was the era of hyper-growth.
As we approach 2011 and look back 19 years, we see a Japan that had found its bubble economy busted (1991-2). The economic engine based on manufacturing was robbed of its energy by the mirage of a booming real estate and financial sector economy. The next generation of leaders became a generation of followers, doing nothing to innovate, but more to milk the most out of the goodwill that their forefathers had created for them.
A succession of articles in the LA Times, Washington Post, and New York Times about Japan’s demise and whether the US may follow got me to think… What will we say in 2030, 19 years from now. Will we look back and think of the lost opportunity because we forgot how to dream? Or will we dig ourselves out from the ruins to become a great nation once again?
In a sense, the US and Japan are now on the same boat… just 19 years apart. Both nations lost their bids for the Olympics and the World Cups for at least the next decade. Both nations face massive deficits. Both nations face a tremendous crisis in governance, as minority parties are digging in, creating legislative gridlock not seen in decades. The public is pessimistic. In America, we are asking whether the American Dream is no more. In Japan, they are asking whether there is anything to dream about, as they watch China soar past them.
I wonder what the next 19 years will bring.
Joseph Lee is an Adjunct Professor at the Peter Drucker & Masatoshi Ito Graduate School of Management and the Graziadio School of Business and Management, where he teaches a course on management consulting. He is also an Adjunct Professor at Chuo University’s Graduate School of Strategic Management where he teaches Business Communication and Negotiation/Conflict Resolution.