Male Identity Crisis in Japan

TV commercials for men's cosmetics draw a lot of attention in Japan today. In one advertisement a popular Japanese male singer, Tsuyoshi Domoto, carefully puts men's foundation on his face before his date. Another ad created a sensation when Takuya Kimura, a popular male singer and actor, promoted the removal of men's unwanted hair from arms, legs, chest and face. This recent phenomenon among young men in Japan concerned with their appearance is reflected in steadily increasing consumption of men's cosmetics. Recently, an eyebrow shaping kit for men, containing a pair of tweezers and scissors and an eyebrow pencil, sold about 1 million units in a six-month period. The same kit for women sold only 50,000 units (Business Line, 5/1/1999). In Japan, cosmetics used to be a female privilege. Masahiro Ishikawa, the account supervisor for cosmetics maker Hoyu Corp. says that “for young men the idea of being ‘macho’ has lost its luster” (Business Line, 5/1/1999). Furthermore, Kazuhiro Kuwabara, senior manager at the research and development division of Dentsu advertising company, sees that the recent phenomenon is unlikely to disappear as fast as most Japanese fads, and says that "the very concepts of male-like and women-like are disappearing" (National Post, 8/5/1999). This trend has emerged within the last decade. Probably no other domain of popular culture has better revealed this change than animation films.

This paper seeks an answer to what is happening to Japanese masculinity and probing why animated movies are so popular among young men today. Japan's animation films, called "anime" in Japanese, are popular not only among children but also young adults. Anime deals with a wide range of themes from day-to-day life experiences to social issues and science fiction. One of the anime dealing with Japan's social issues, "Rojin Z," directed by Katsuhiro Otomo in 1991, introduces a potential elite Japanese male character, Maeda, a medical school student. He dreams to one day become a successful doctor, although in reality he is not capable. His character is too weak, irresponsible, and indecisive for that. He represents Japan's salaried men, who desire career promotion and successful social status regardless of their capability. Japanese salaried men are often described as “kigyo senshi” (corporation warriors) or “kaisha ningen” (company men), who are loyal to their companies and enthusiastic for their own life success. However, the reality is not always what they imagine. In his book An Introduction to Japanese Society, Yoshio Sugimoto reveals the contradiction that so-called "elites" in Japan earn relatively low wages (compared to their Western counterparts) regardless of their high occupational status (Sugimoto, 38). In addition, the more they seek career success, the more they tend to be exploited by their employers. Sugimoto describes how stressful and exploitative their working environment is by mentioning such practices peculiar to Japan as "service overtime" (overtime work without pay) and "tanshin funin" (moving away from family to work in another company branch office) (Sugimoto, 92-96). Japan's harsh working environment is dramatized in the animation film "Battle Angel." Yugo, a working-class boy, dreams of getting promoted to "Zeus," an ideal, elite world that floats above ordinary people in his iron-scrap hometown. He forces himself to work excessively long and hard in order to satisfy his employer's requirements and make it to Zeus. It turns out, however, that he has been merely exploited with no hope of promotion. He, who cannot give up his desperate dream, ends up losing his life.

Yugo is a metaphor for company men who prematurely die by "karoshi" (death caused by exhaustion and stress) and suicide. In 1998, the number of suicides in Japan rose by 35% to a record high of 32,863. Especially, men's suicide increased by 40% to 23,013 compared to the previous year. Women's increased by 24% to 9,850 (The Daily Yomiuri, 7/3/1999). Along with this tragic situation, the prolonged Japanese economic recession continues to worsen their working conditions. Therefore, Japanese salaried men, who cannot easily escape from the harsh reality of their high-pressure lives, feel a greater need for mental shelter and stability. Psychoanalyst Yoshiaki Yamamura suggests that Japanese people’s psychological shelters lie in the "mother figure," a symbol of great support and salvation in his book Nihon no Oya, Nihon no Katei (Japanese Parents, Japanese Family) (Yamamura, 51-55). Psychologist Takeo Doi also explains that the intimate mother-child relationship is key to Japanese people's mental stability in his internationally well-known book, Amae no Kozo (Anatomy of Dependency). A visible example of this ideology of motherly love is observed in Japan’s nightclubs where Japanese salaried men often stop by after work. In her book Nightwork, anthropologist Anne Allison analyzes the role of hostesses at nightclubs as mother substitutes, who she says provide a maternal-like acceptance, coddling and indulging of men, that, "to a Westerner, seems insulting or invasive" (Allison, 170). Thus, motherly love as a mental oasis for Japanese salaried men provides a safe haven from their outside world and helps maintain their psychological well-being.

One of the better examples of how animation has depicted this reality is represented by the computer-generated nursing machine in "Rojin Z." The machine, which takes care of Mr. Takazawa, a bed-ridden old man, also takes on the characteristics of his dead wife. The old man desire to go to Kamakura beach, and the machine/wife is devoted to getting him there. When Mr. Takazawa encounters obstacles along the way, the nursing machine eliminates them and protects him completely. As a result, Mr. Takazawa maintains his mental peace inside the machine and even does not realize what is going on outside. One of the less overt but not less subtle points made by the movie is that motherly love greatly contributes to the maintenance of Japanese men’s internal stability despite how difficult the external working environment is. In "Battle Angel," Gally, a female android protagonist, understands Yugo, the single-minded male worker concerned only with his promotion. She sacrifices herself to support him. Her figure makes a parallel to the mother figure that provides her children with all her understanding and support. Gally's motherly-like love comforts Yugo’s broken heart and helps him recover when he learns of his exploitation and becomes depressed. Gally’s love for Yugo suggests that motherly love comforts and revives Japan's corporation warriors struggling to compete.

In another animation film, "My Dear Marie," a pretty adolescent female android, Marie, has a substitute mother role to fulfil. She takes care of Karigari-kun, her elder brother and producer. She cooks traditional Japanese-style breakfast for him and brings his left-behind stuff at home to his school. During his date she worries about him like a mother worries about her child, and tries to make sure that everything is all right with him. As seen in both films, besides a feminine sexy appearance, a pseudo-mother figure attracts men. This is because motherly love is an important aspect that Japanese men seek. While male characters in animation films eventually attain idealized motherly love, Japanese men in the real world seem to have a harder time. In 1998, divorce among Japanese marked the largest number ever since official records were started a century ago. In Japan, one couple is divorced about every two minutes (The Associated Press, 1/1/1999).

In his book Sayonara Anata (Goodbye My Husband), Katsutoshi Yamashita asserts that while divorced women enjoy their independence and freedom, their ex-husbands regret their failed marriage. In other words, men more than women suffer from the consequences of divorce (Yamashita, 213). Lucky married men, on the other hand, do not always enjoy their marriage life, either. Some of them are treated as "sodai gomi" (undisposed garbage) or "nure ochiba" (wet, and therefore troublesome, leaves). Furthermore, according to psychiatrist Shizuo Machizawa, more young Japanese men “suffer from an inferiority complex, believing that they are not attractive to the opposite sex. …[This is due to the fact that] in the late 1990s an increasing number of women do not want to marry and many men have difficulty finding a wife” (The Daily Yomiuri, 1/16/1999). Thus, Japanese men's dream of attaining motherly love is for the most part an unrequited fantasy in today's Japan. Japanese men have gradually come to realize the necessity of changing who they are. Increasingly, they are transforming themselves from a masculine figure to a feminine one. The boom in men’s cosmetics, now reaching sales of $2 billion per year, reflects men’s new attitude towards their appearance and a different understanding of “manliness” (The Daily Yomiuri, 5/15/1999). A survey by Hakuhodo Institute of Life and Living shows that 50% of men and 63.9% of women sometimes stare at their reflection in train windows and 26.5% of men and 11.1% of women sometimes sense someone staring at them (The Daily Yomiuri, 1/16/1999). Prof. Yoko Shimada of Hosei University states that the era of the manly Japanese breadwinner is over. Today’s Japanese men are expected to be sensitive, clean and sexy rather than wealthy (The Daily Yomiuri, 1/16/1999).

Consequently, men care about their appearance more. This trend of shrinking masculinity in Japan is also depicted in popular animation films. Many young male characters have a girlish appearance: having pretty faces with cute, large round eyes. They are indulgent, dependent and timid in contrast to female characters who are independent, responsible, and strong-willed. In the blockbuster animation movie "Evangelion," directed by Hideaki Anno, the filmmakers succeed in depicting such emerging new gender characteristics. Shinji, a boy pilot recruited to protect the earth, is naïve, passive and cowardly, and has no self-confidence. He always tries to escape from where he is, while Asuka, his female co-pilot, is confident, mature, and brave. Although both Shinji and Asuka suffer from their own mental traumas, Asuka overcomes hers and fights bravely for protection of the earth. Shinji, however, can do nothing but weep.

In "Rojin Z," Maeda, the male medical student, is also indecisive and cowardly, but Haruko, a female volunteer nurse, has completely opposite characteristics. While Haruko bravely fights against the central authority to protect her patient, Maeda is too afraid to get involved. In "My Dear Marie," Karigari-kun, the computer nerd, is equally timid. His android sister Marie is the strong one. Even Karigari-kun cannot protect himself when he is almost raped by a strong schoolgirl, but must be saved by Marie. Although these male characters are portrayed as feminine and passive, they still want to appear heroic and expect women to be submissive. This is exemplified by Karigari-kun’s fetishism in "My Dear Marie." He fetishizes himself as a masculine figure and desires his strong sister to be gentle, submissive and obedient. Maeda in “Rojin Z” also tries to become a hero by rescuing Haruko in the film's final battle despite the fact that he is too afraid of combat. Such male characters' contradiction of superficial feminization and embedded traditional values is explained by Hiroko Murasawa, a senior researcher at the Pola Research Institute of Beauty and Culture and an expert in men’s cosmetics. Men, she says, take advantage of "makeup as a quick and easy way of improving [their] self-image." It indicates their immaturity because "changing [one's] appearance is, after all, superficial" (The Daily Yomiuri, 5/15/1999).

The implication is that Japanese men seek superficial change without transforming Japan’s male-dominated social structure itself. Ironically, Japanese men rather than women suffer from the traditional patriarchal social ethos that they have developed for themselves. Animation films have successfully depicted this phenomenon, and, at the same time, contributed to revealing Japan’s masculinity crisis. While animated films succeed in depicting the reality of trapped Japanese men, they also fetishize female bodies for the male audience. Therefore, they support problematic gender depictions rather than eliminate them. Indeed, female characters are often depicted in sexy costumes, school uniforms, nurse uniforms, or even naked. However, it is not true that their sexy appearance is provided exclusively for the male audience’s indulgence. In "Rojin Z," Maeda is taken advantage of by his cute female friends in sexy nurse uniforms. In "My Dear Marie" Karigari-kun, obsessed with his pretty sister, is also driven by his sister's demands about whom he should go out with and what kind of computer devices he should produce for her, etc.

Thus, although female characters look sexually fetishized in animations, they actually take advantage of men’s nature and succeed in obtaining what they want in manipulative ways. Such female manipulation is not always overt, but extremely effective in subtle ways. Women’s manipulative control is carried on in the real world as well. In the weekly magazine Asahi Journal, an article entitled "Wagamama-na 25-sai-tachi-no Onna-ni-umarete Yokatta!" (Glad to be Born Female! Self-centered 25-year-old Japanese Women), discusses young Japanese women’s consensus: It is not effective to resist and fight against the existing male-dominated society. Rather, it is better to brainwash men using manipulative messages in men’s popular magazines in order to attain something favorable to women (Asahi Journal, 34). Thus, in both animation and the real world, well-educated and independent contemporary Japanese women manipulate men rather than resist explicitly. Such female control over men is not new, but an existing reality.

In her book Office Ladies and Salaried Men, Yuko Ogasawara suggests this in a metaphoric way: “[Japanese] women as professional wives manage men much as a puppeteer manipulates a puppet” (Ogasawara, 15). Thus, Japanese men’s formal superiority greatly depends upon women’s informal dominance. In conclusion, while Japan’s male-dominated social structure has contributed to development of idealized gender roles and social conformity, the structure itself traps contemporary Japanese men. In order to avoid this dilemma, Japanese men have found a quick and easy way of preserving the status quo: feminizing themselves instead of changing the existing social structure. They believe their feminine appearance attracts Japanese women who will continue to provide them with maternal love.

However, young Japanese women, who are increasingly well-educated and economically independent, no longer desire the role of traditionally-idealized mother figure they see as excessively confining. Thus, Japan’s vaunted masculinity is slowly beginning to crumble because men have failed to adapt along with Japan's changing woman. For a long time Japanese women have been viewed as victims of the patriarchal social structure; Japanese men, however, are the victims today. And, the extent that the masculinity crisis in Japan is successfully revealed by animation films, "anime" contributes to the demystification of Japanese masculinity. If so, a question to be asked is, why are such animated films still popular among the male audience?

Simply put, Japanese men are sympathetic to sensitive and passive male animation characters and their tragic circumstances. Furthermore, male characters in anime are loved by pretty and sexy girls who give them a kind of motherly love. In this view, Japanese men eagerly identify themselves with such lucky characters. Nonetheless, feminized male anime characters are still depicted heroically. In “Evangelion,” Shinji turns out to be a hero who saves the earth regardless of his timidity. In “Battle Angel” Yugo’s death caused by his own immature desire is depicted as dramatic and meaningful. Thus, animation films provide what Japanese men seek: sympathetic male characters as heroes, sexy women’s bodies to fetishize, and idealized motherly love for their solace.

In short, animations provide an instant comfort zone for Japanese men, where they can enjoy favorable illusions with no effort needed to struggle with external obstacles. Thus, animation has become a new alternative 'fetish' for young Japanese men who feel trapped by their masculine myths.

Bibliography:

Anne Allison, Nightwork, The University of Chicago Press, 1994

Glenda S. Roberts, Staying on the Line, University of Hawaii Press, 1994 in Yuko Ogasawara, Office Ladies and Salaried Men, University of California Press, 1998

Katsutoshi Yamashita, Sayonara Anata (Goodbye My Husband), Asahi Shimbunsha, 1984

Takeo Doi, Amae no Kozo (The Anatomy of Dependence), Kobundo, 1971

Yoshiaki Yamamura, Nihon no Oya, Nihon no Katei (Japanese Parents, Japanese Family),Kaneko Shobo, 1983

Yoshio Sugimoto, An Introduction to Japanese Society, Cambridge University Press, 1997 "Wagamama-na 25-sai-tachi-no Onna-ni-umarete Yokatta!" (Glad to be Born Female! Self-centered 25-year-old Japanese Women), in Asahi Journal, v31 v57 1989

“Japanese Divorce Rate Catching Up with West,” The Associated Press, 1/1/1999

“Macho Out, Make-up In: Cosmetics Makers Add Unisex Lines to Entice Japanese Men,” Business Line, 5/1/1999

"Male Life Expectancy Drops in 1998," The Daily Yomiuri, 8/8/1999

"NPA [National Police Agency] Reports Suicides Due to Money Woes UP 70%," The Daily Yomiuri, 7/3/1999

“Women Suffering in Silence a Thing of the Past,” Australian Business Intelligence, 10/25/1999

"Workers Still as Busy as Ever, Survey Finds," The Daily Yomiuri, 6/11/1999

"Young Japanese Men's Tastes Shift to Neatness and Beauty Care," National Post, 8/5/1999

“Young Men Catch the Beauty Bug,” The Daily Yomiuri, 1/16/1999

“Young Men Put Their Best Faces Forward,” The Daily Yomiuri, 5/15/1999

"Battle Angel," directed by Yukito Kishiro, 1993 "My Dear Marie," directed by Tomomi Mochizuki, 1996

"Neon Genesis Evangelion: Death" and "Gensis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion," directed by Hideaki Anno, 1997 "Rojin Z," directed by Otomo Katsuhiro, 19

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