My Research: Japanese Business Manner Training

The research I am conducting in Japan focuses on language ideologies and the language socialization of young adults as they move into the workforce. In Japan, the transition from college student to “new company employee” is seen as a major life stage which culminates in one’s development as a mature adult. Training in formal Japanese speech styles is an important aspect of this transition because college students are seen as ill-prepared for the behaviors and language use that are expected in the business world. Many companies provide new employees with several days of training in “business manners” covering everything from how to bow and present one’s business card to how to answer the telephone.

My research project is ethnographic study of such business manner and speech training. The methodology involves participant observation of one or two-day business manner training conducted by companies that specialize in workforce development training. I have participated in two of these courses as a student and have been able to observe and record three additional classes. Some of these training sessions are for employees of a specific company while others are “open seminars” attended by employees of a variety of different companies. I have also been able to interview several instructors and people responsible for course development. All together, I have been able to gather information on the courses offered by seven different training companies.

Despite the rhetoric of discontinuity between the roles of “student” and “member of society,” much of what is covered in these courses, from group greetings to the emphasis on proper attire, is grounded in the trainees’ prior educational experiences. Trainees are videotaped giving a one-minute self-introduction followed by a critique from the trainers on everything from hairstyles and posture to language use. Rather than learning entirely new speech patterns, the focus of the course is on eradicating forms viewed as slang, vulgar, or incorrect. Trainees are critiqued on their word choice, intonation, and use of incorrect honorific forms. As in traditional Japanese arts, the focus throughout is on learning and imitating the correct form. Awareness of deviations becomes the basis for setting individual self-improvement goals. The courses draw on and reproduce familiar cultural practices at the same time that they attempt to transform students into idealized company employees.

As another aspect of this study, I have also enrolled in a three-month public speaking class at a “Speech Center” that trains people in how to give effective speeches. This class has proved to be a rich source of data on Japanese ideologies of language and human relationships. For example, the first class was a lecture on how greetings contribute to good human relationships. The motto of the Speech Center is “Before there are words, there is the heart. After the words, there is action,” and their goal is not only to produce effective speakers, but to help participants develop a more “bright” and sincere heart.

Participants practice giving three-minute speeches in which they use their own observations and experiences to draw out a moral theme which becomes the thesis of the speech. They are assigned to prepare speeches describing how they have put the speech center’s teachings into practice through engaging in positive thinking, cheerfully greeting their coworkers and family members, and so on. In the process of learning and practicing effective speaking techniques, they also learn to produce a narrative of self-improvement showing how their behavior and attitudes have changed as a result of the speech center’s teachings.
One aspect that intrigues me about the teachings of both the speech center and the business manner classes is the relationship between form and feeling, kokoro (the heart) and kihon (the standard forms). In both types of training, a great deal of emphasis is placed on exact details of form such as how to bow correctly, and yet there is also a message in both contexts that the form is valueless unless it is suffused with feeling. It is no good simply saying the correct phrase unless you sound like you mean it. Rather than a tension between form and feeling , the idea is that using the correct form is what enables one to best express sincere feeling. Of course, this presumes that the feelings that one wants to express are the socially normative or approved ones, and it allows no avenue to critique or change existing social systems. I am interested in exploring the techniques used in both types of courses to motivate the students to put these teachings into practice.

A Weekend of Festivals

Last week was Golden Week, a series of three holidays in a row when virtually the entire country takes a vacation (except for those unlucky enough to work in hotels or other tourist industries). We went to visit our friends the Fujis in Kanazawa which is on the Japan Sea side of the islands. About eight years ago, the husband was transferred from Tokyo to Kanazawa, but the wife continued her job in Tokyo, and she flies out to visit him every weekend. This is a fairly common situation in Japan, except for the part about getting together every weekend which most of the Fujis’ co-workers feel is rather excessive.

The Fujis took us to spend the weekend on the Noto Peninsula. It’s a relatively undeveloped and less traveled area by Japanese standards and there were lots of picturesque farm houses and rice paddies tucked away in the mountains and scenic drives along the coast. The azaleas were in bloom and wisteria was growing wild in the mountains. This was particularly special because “Fuji” is the Japanese word for wisteria. Mrs. Fuji, who loves to wear kimono, wore a kimono with a wisteria design on it to fit the season.

We stayed at two different minshuku. A minshuku is sort of the equivalent of a Bed-and-Breakfast except that they generally serve dinner as well. Many of them are well known for their cuisine and it’s a good chance to sample regional dishes. It’s a very fun way to get a feel for traditional Japanese lifestyles, but you have to be prepared to eat and sleep on the floor, share your bath with strangers of the same sex, and eat fish, rice, and tofu for breakfast (both of the places we stayed at were very proud of their local, homemade tofu). My main problem as I get older is that my body just can’t take all of the sitting on cushions with no chairs.

We also got to see several small local festivals. The first minshuku we stayed at was in a tiny little village and the owner mentioned that they were having their local festival that night and would we like to attend? For a 250 yen donation (about $2.50) we could also buy a strip of paper to write a prayer to the god. So after dinner, we went down to a small, oddly shaped rock by the side of the road where they were doing the ritual. There were about thirty people there of whom probably about half were villagers and the rest were guests staying at various B&B’s nearby. The minshuku owner was there handing out red paper lanterns with candles inside and there was a priest standing in front of the altar and chanting something. After awhile, they lit a small bonfire, and then one of the priests stepped forward and started reading the prayers aloud from the strips of paper and then handing them to another man to place them on the fire to release the prayers to the gods. Most Japanese festivals have become tourist attractions and there was something special about this small group of people doing this unpretentious festival just for themselves (even if they did allow outsiders to attend).

The other two festivals we went to were bigger but still intimate enough to have a local feel to them. One was in Nanao City and consisted of three model ships being pulled through the streets with ropes. A number of the local businesses also displayed small models of the Tenjin god (see photo above). Tenjin was an eighth century scholar who was deified after his death and became the god of learning and scholarship. Every year thousands of Japanese visit his shrines to pray for success in getting into college. We asked about the history of this local Tenjin festival and were told that it had just started the year before! Apparently the tradition was to display the Tenjin god as part of the New Year’s celebrations, but then someone got the idea that since they had all these tourists coming into town for the boat festival, why not display the Tenjin gods as well (and maybe make some extra sales off of the tourists coming in to your store to see the Tenjin statues).

One of the shops sold Buddhist altars. Many Japanese homes have a Buddhist altar where they pray to the spirits of their deceased relatives (whom many Japanese believe become buddhas or gods after their death). The altars are like tall cupboards or wardrobes and they are truly works of art--covered with lacquer ware and carving and gold leaf. So we stepped inside just to admire the artwork, and the owner came over and started chatting with us. She said that she had heard that Americans don’t have the custom of having household altars to the dead and there was something she had always wondered about. “What do Americans do when they want to pray? How do they remember their dead?” I told her that Americans go to church to pray or sometimes visit the graves of their deceased relatives (which is something Japanese also do on an annual basis), but it was a question I’d never thought about before. Of course, many Americans do pray at home too, but we don’t usually have a dedicated religious space within the home the way Japanese do. It was one of those interesting cross-cultural moments.

So it was a lot of good food and fun festivals and we also got to sample some locally brewed sake and bought a small bottle to bring home.