One unlikely side-effect of the Japanese crisis has been a new critique of our use of honorifics
Shock, sympathy and a sense of national unity – these were the sentiments we felt in Japan after the triple tragedy of earthquake, tsunami and nuclear accident. A month later, our attention has shifted to what caused the continuing Fukushima crisis. We are frustrated and angry.
Since this all began, Yukio Edano, the chief cabinet secretary, has become a fixture on televised press conferences as an articulate government representative. I shall not dwell on his efforts, now much criticised, to underplay the direness of the situation. What interests me is his constant use of honorifics.
Other languages make use of honorifics. In Japanese, they govern every aspect of the language: verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns and even pronouns. One tends to associate honorifics with social hierarchy, but they play another critical role: they mark who you regard as belonging to your own group and who you don't. And, as scholars have observed, this insider-outsider distinction is a fundamental aspect of Japanese society.
Suppose you are talking to your superior. You would naturally use honorifics. You would also use honorifics when talking about his mother. As for your superior, he would not use honorifics to you but he would use them when talking about your mother. He would do so, not because your mother is elderly, but because he regards her as an outsider to his own group, be it his company or his family.
This linguistic practice places Edano, who speaks on behalf of the government, in an awkward position. The Japanese language dictates that he uses honorifics even when he is referring to the Tepco executives, for they are outsiders. He cannot help it if, every time he talks about Tepco, it reminds us that our government did not swiftly take control of the accident and instead delegated the safety of our nation to an outsider with dubious safety records.
Yet, however irritating Edano's use of honorifics with Tepco may be, I'm willing to condone it, for it will not do to change how our language works even when faced with a nuclear disaster. What I find inexcusable is his extending the use of honorifics to other government agencies: "The honorable members of the self-defence army have most kindly agreed to send their tanks." The same with the nuclear and industrial safety agency. And the national police. The public cannot escape the thought that our government leaders regard these agencies as outsiders, and that they are hesitant to take command of them. The baffling delay of the army and the police to reach the site of the disaster comes to mind.
With or without irony, it has long been said that Japan doesn't need leaders because the bureaucrats take care of everything. Yet in time of national crisis, a true leadership is needed.
I have a proposition. If you are a civil servant, refrain from showering other civil servants with honorifics when speaking in public. After all, you are inside a group of civil servants; we the public, who pay taxes for your services, are outside that group. Stop addressing each other in deferential language and make way for the bold and wise to take true leadership.
The sole person in Japan who is not obliged to use honorifics, or rather, is prohibited from using them, is the emperor. On 16 March, he made history with the first televised speech to console and unite his people. The carefully scripted and sensitively delivered message, following imperial protocol, included not a single honorific. It sounded fresh, momentarily freeing us from the overuse of honorifics by our government officials. But, then, we don't want his highness back at his throne, do we?