Can a “Never Lie” Policy Win an Information War? Hideyoshi and Japan's Slightly Naive Diplomacy

Today, I watched a television program about Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s rise to power.

His lord, Oda Nobunaga, had been close to unifying Japan when he was killed in the Incident at Honnō-ji. The program examined what Hideyoshi did immediately afterward.

Looking at his actions again, they were remarkable.

At the time, Hideyoshi was fighting the Mōri clan in western Japan. When he learned of Nobunaga’s death, he concluded a peace agreement before the news could reach the Mōri side, then rushed his army back toward his own territory at extraordinary speed. This became known as the Great Chūgoku Return.

If the Mōri had learned that Nobunaga was dead, there would have been little reason for them to accept peace. Hideyoshi therefore controlled the information tightly. After the agreement, he also spread false reports that Nobunaga was still alive, creating conditions favorable to himself.

In modern terms, this was sophisticated information warfare.

Of course, this was Japan’s Warring States period. No military commander began a war by honestly telling the enemy everything.

They lied. They concealed information that needed to remain hidden. They acted before the other side could understand what was happening.

Nobody becomes the ruler of a country by being hopelessly trusting.

Then I Remembered a Strange Discussion on YouTube

While watching the program, I remembered a YouTube video I had seen earlier.

An American and a Chinese participant were discussing Japan’s weakness in information and cognitive warfare.

The video included a claim that the Chinese government pays foreign influencers and others to distribute information overseas that is unfavorable to Japan.

Leaving aside how accurate any individual example may be, it is no longer unusual for states to use social media and influencers to shape public opinion in ways that favor their own interests.

If a government directly announces, “Our country is right and Japan is wrong,” audiences recognize it as government messaging.

But the impression is entirely different when an apparently independent foreigner says, “I investigated the issue and discovered these problems in Japan.”

Modern information campaigns are designed around not only what is said, but also who says it.

The video’s conclusion about Japan was that the country is remarkably weak at this kind of contest.

Remembering Hideyoshi made that conclusion feel a little disappointing.

More than 400 years ago, Japan had a commander who concealed information, spread falsehoods, and seized the initiative in a single rapid move.

Apparently, Japanese people do not inherently lack a talent for information warfare.

Japan Strongly Teaches That Lying Is Wrong

Children in Japan grow up hearing:

“You must not lie.”

There is nothing wrong with that culture.

Business can often proceed without examining every line of a contract with suspicion. A lost wallet has a good chance of being returned. Society can function on the assumption that other people will observe certain rules.

That kind of social trust has enormous value.

Of course, I am not claiming that Japan has no fraudsters.

Fraud is common enough, and companies sometimes conceal misconduct. Nor do I believe that Japanese people are uniquely honest.

Still, Japan is a country where the moral principle that lying is wrong is taught particularly strongly as a social norm.

The question is whether that instinct should be carried unchanged into international politics.

Diplomacy Is Not a Classroom Meeting

Within a society, trust that other people will follow the same rules is important.

Diplomacy is different.

Every country has its own interests.

Governments distribute information favorable to themselves and challenge information that harms them. They explain their positions to foreign media, use social platforms, and sometimes attempt to influence public opinion through third parties.

If Japan does nothing, the international community will not award it points for having refused to lie.

Only the other side’s claims will remain in the information space.

Discussions of information warfare often jump immediately to the question, “Are you saying Japan should spread lies too?” That is another extreme.

A country can actively communicate favorable facts without fabricating them. It can respond immediately to false information. It can explain its position in other languages and work with communicators who already reach audiences abroad.

Doing nothing is not neutrality.

It is losing by default.

A Little More Hideyoshi May Be About Right

What would Hideyoshi do with social media if he were alive today?

The thought is somewhat frightening.

At the very least, he would not sit back and say, “If we remain sincere, people around the world will eventually understand us.”

He would determine what the other side knew, decide what he wanted them to see, and release information at the moment when it would have the greatest effect.

I do not believe Japan needs to abandon the moral principle that lying is wrong. If domestic society became a constant contest of deception, everyday life would become exhausting.

But diplomacy does not have to operate with exactly the same instincts.

Where nations pursue competing interests, strategy matters more than goodwill alone.

Hideyoshi understood at least that much more than 400 years ago.

Perhaps Japanese people are not bad at information warfare. Perhaps the country has simply been so earnest for so long that it has forgotten how to do it.

In diplomacy, learning a little from Hideyoshi may be about right.