I posted this article two years ago, in the wake of a coordinated series of terrorist attacks in Paris. Re-reading it after yesterday’s attack in New York, it seems as relevant to me now as it did then. Donald Trump would probably like America to go the Japanese route, but he won’t tell his followers the truth – that to do so, they would have to give up any hope to ‘make America great again’ (by which he means, richer). The choice is far more difficult than that.
John Rapley is a political economist and author of ‘Twilight of the Money Gods’, which will be reviewed iN BRAVE NEW EUROPE in November
Cross-posted from John’s blog brixtonsubversity
Japan does not have, and is not likely to ever have, a problem with terror. It will almost certainly never suffer an attack like France’s weekend tragedy. But is also a nation that is in inexorable economic and demographic decline. That appears to be the trade-off all Western nations face: peace or prosperity.
Like all Western societies, Japan reaped the fruit of economic prosperity and is now, for reasons I discussed in an earlier post, declining both economically and demographically. One in four Japanese citizens are older than 65, and sales of adult diapers now surpass those for babies. The impact of this demographic shift on the economy, and on the lifestyles of the working-age population, is everywhere to be seen. Its workforce shrinking, Japan’s economy has more or less ground to a halt. The rapid increases in compensation for working Japanese are now a thing of the past as austerity forces employers to cut back pay. Most recently, the government has had to begin raising taxes on employed Japanese to support its expenditure on the elderly. A generation ago, young Japanese could look forward to a lifetime of rising incomes. Today, only the elderly still feel that optimism.
In its decline, Japan leads other Western countries by a couple of decades, but we’re virtually all on the same path. Some countries, like Italy and Germany, have already begun their demographic declines. Even those whose populations are still growing healthily, like Canada, can thank immigration for this. Take newcomers out of the picture, and even Canada would be contracting.
The relative openness to foreigners of Canada, the USA or Australia mean that even as their economic growth rates slow, long-term prospects look promising, not least when compared to Japan’s. But these are countries built by generations of immigrants, who helped develop their countries’ expertise at integrating newcomers and enabling them to make homes in their adopted countries. Two years ago, after two decades away, I spent some time lecturing in Canada. I marvelled at the way my students, a mixed bag who represented the whole planet, related to one another. Veiled young Iranian girls, Ethiopians in hoodies, Jamaicans in button-down shirts and Brazilians with strong Canadian accents all hung out together, played hockey and interacted on Facebook, expressing a degree of attachment to their homeland that humbled a lapsed Canadian like me.
Yet while Canadians like to say that the world could solve its problems if everyone just became more like them, it’s not an easy thing to pull off. The country, often derided by foreigners for being boring, got that reputation because its national culture is pretty vague, subdued and indistinct. Beyond ice hockey and perhaps Tim Horton’s donuts, there’s not a lot that Canadians would say defines them. The result is that the country allows newcomers a wide berth when it comes to grafting their own practises onto a constantly-evolving national culture.
Contrast that with European countries, where rich and centuries-old cultures define life. To be Italian is not just to like pasta and speak the language, and many Danes or Dutch don’t think veiled women can really be considered nationals. I used to lecture in France, and I recall conversations with the children of North African immigrants who, despite looking, sounding and behaving French to me, would say that they would still get asked where they were ‘from’ — and Marseille wasn’t the answer their interlocutor was looking for. The suburbs of French cities are filled with vast, depressed housing estates brimming with discontented minorities who often feel they don’t get a fair hearing.
When it comes to Japanese policy menu, on the other hand, immigration is simply not an option. Aware their country is on a path of economic and demographic decline, most Japanese seem to have accepted this with equanimity. They might encourage the vast army of stay-at-home mothers to enter the work force but, aside from letting in the odd highly-skilled specialist, they don’t intend to increase immigration to boost their labour supply. To judge from the subtle racism Japanese show towards all ‘gaijin’ (foreigners) — the spaces, patronising remarks to correct the supposed ignorance of foreigners, the common lack of interest in overseas travel, the rarity with which even educated Japanese people speak or understand any foreign languages — they prefer their country to die Japanese than to rebirth itself with new inputs.
However, an obvious consequence of Japan’s consequent homogeneity is a high degree of order around shared norms, a degree of stability that remains the envy of other Western countries. Crime is very low, and a single woman can walk home late at night with little fear. Children as young as three can be seen in school canteens, serving one another first before serving oneself. At a shared meal, nobody eats the last item on the dish. Formal gestures of respect govern all interactions. Thus, in- and out-groups are not really a feature here, and there is no obvious source of discontent driving marginalised groups to rebel against societies they feel reject them.
Europe faces a choice. Does it go the Canadian route, accept more immigrants, and take the risks that go with that — either to its stability or, if it is to go the Canadian route and allow immigrants to change their societies, to its cultures? Or does it go the Japanese route, close its borders, and slide into irreversible decline? What do we love most, money or identity? Material prosperity or our cultural and spiritual endowment? That’s a tough choice, with no obvious answer.
European governments, which by and large tell their citizens they will both preserve their cultures and make them richer, are avoiding the dilemma. Until they face it, their citizens may have no choice but to get used to terror.