Are Japanese People Really Well-Mannered?—What a Giant Pile of Poop in My Neighborhood Taught Me
The other day, I was walking past a shop in my neighborhood when I discovered something outrageous.
It was poop.
And it was enormous.
It was such an impressive specimen that I could not help wondering, “Did this really come from a human?”
Perhaps it came from a large dog. Perhaps it really did come from a person. I had no idea, but of all possible places, it was sitting directly in front of a shop.
I felt sorry for the shop staff. They were not responsible for it, yet in the end they had no choice but to clean it up.
By the time I returned after finishing my errands, the giant pile had vanished without a trace.
Someone must have dealt with it.
Incidentally, this was in a place with a great deal of foot traffic. If it came from a dog, its owner had brazenly left it there and walked away.
So much for the supposedly impeccable manners of the Japanese.
Some People Catch It Before It Hits the Ground
The sight reminded me of something I once heard on television.
A celebrity said that when his dog defecated, he caught it before it reached the ground.
Using gloves or a bag, he made sure it never touched the pavement directly.
Once it hits the ground, some residue will remain even after it is picked up. I was impressed that he went to such lengths.
Then again, the situation may be different for a celebrity.
If someone photographed him leaving his dog’s waste behind and posted it on social media, he would be in serious trouble.
A scandal with a headline such as “Popular Celebrity Leaves His Dog’s Poop Behind!” could even affect his career.
An ordinary person might only lose the respect of the neighbors, but a celebrity could lose work as well. It is a profession that demands remarkably sophisticated risk management, even for a single pile of poop.
Meanwhile, some dog owners leave enormous piles by the roadside.
One person catches it before it touches the ground; another lets it fall and flees the scene.
Both own dogs, yet the difference could hardly be greater.
Perhaps the real difference is not manners, but how much each person stands to lose if caught.
Do Manners Depend on Where You Live?
I used to live in a relatively affluent residential neighborhood.
Back then, I almost never saw dog waste left by the roadside.
In the middle-class neighborhood where I live now, however, I see it occasionally.
So what happens in a more ordinary, traditional working-class neighborhood?
You can probably guess. In fact, all you have to do is walk through one. The streets and roads are dirty.
Seen this way, manners appear to vary by area.
In affluent neighborhoods, the scrutiny of others is intense. Behave strangely, and your reputation among the neighbors will suffer.
In places where that pressure is weaker, manners may loosen as well.
If so, perhaps the celebrated good manners of Japanese people come less from personal morality than from a system of social surveillance that happens to work well.
Is the Cleanup by Japanese Football Fans Really Such a Heartwarming Story?
Some time ago, Japanese football fans attracted attention for picking up trash after a match at a stadium overseas.
People around the world praised them, saying, “The Japanese are wonderful” and “What a polite nation.”
It was certainly admirable behavior.
Still, I cannot help asking a slightly mean-spirited question.
What if nobody had been watching?
Suppose there had been no cameras, no chance of appearing on social media, and no acquaintances nearby.
Would they still have picked up the trash?
After all, the supporters who picked up trash and the dog owner who abandoned the mess on the street are both Japanese.
If observing the former is enough to conclude that “Japanese people have good manners,” it should be equally reasonable to observe the latter and say that “Japanese people have bad manners.”
Yet when Japanese people pick up trash abroad, it becomes a story about national character. When someone leaves dog waste behind in Japan, it is dismissed as nothing more than an individual nuisance.
What a remarkably convenient distinction.
Our True Nature Emerges When No One Is Watching
In the end, there are two kinds of manners.
There are manners we observe because someone is watching, and manners we observe even when no one is watching.
What follows is entirely my own unfounded assumption, but perhaps people behave better when no one is watching in countries where religious faith is stronger.
The reason is that God is watching.
Japanese people may relax their standards when no one else is around. But for someone who sincerely believes in God, it makes no difference whether other people are present.
Even when no one else is watching, God is.
Looked at that way, faith may be far more effective than any ordinary security camera.
Japanese manners are sustained by people monitoring one another. A deeply religious person, meanwhile, carries the ultimate observer—God—within the mind.
That said, I am not particularly devout myself.
I admire the idea of refraining from wrongdoing because God is watching.
Still, a life spent under God’s surveillance 24 hours a day, 365 days a year sounds rather exhausting.