You can be loved or you can be feared.
In a January interview, the White House’s chief of staff declared that we live in a world “that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power,” signaling America’s choice to take the latter path.
Japan, on the other hand, seems dedicated to the former. In February, Japanese government officials announced a plan to expand the size of the nation’s content production industry, meaning its books, manga, anime, games, movies, and more, to $130 billion USD by 2033, with an eye towards making pop culture a pillar of the economy.
Is this a realistic goal? That’s another story, one I tackled last month. But let’s put the punditry aside and say they succeed – that the Japanese government manages to create the world’s first true fantasy-industrial complex, a government and private industry working together to harness content production and export as an economic engine. (What about Korea, you might ask? They are a pop-cultural powerhouse, but the nation’s fortunes still rest upon the physical products it produces — content currently only accounts for 2% of their economy.) The question then becomes: what are the broader implications of linking a nation’s economic well-being to its entertainment industry? In other words, what happens when a country doesn’t simply promote its pop culture but comes to depend on it?
I’ve written for years about how Japan’s network of cultural producers has won hearts and minds around the globe – how their efforts have contributed to Japan’s considerable soft power. But that was an organic development, entirely grass roots, the product of countless creators and consumers collaborating over many years to build one of the most vibrant environments for pop culture on the planet. The government is well aware of its nation’s reputation as a pop superpower, but it played little role in making it so.
What about the Cool Japan fund? Notoriously ineffective. Critics (who include the fund’s own CEO) frame this as a bad thing. But I think otherwise. The scandals, the questionable investments (Cars? Refrigerators!?), and general ineptitude are a blessing in disguise. I say this with no schadenfreude. The Cool Japan bureaucrats I’ve met all seem like good folks. I say it because a government getting involved in the production of fantasies has huge implications for societies. And to be frank, I don’t think any of the architects behind Japan’s big push have really thought them through. [...]
Freedom of expression is a good thing, most of us will agree. But free speech is where the problems will begin, and compound, for the Japanese government. If the authorities are really going to take an active stand in promoting everything, without interfering in those creative works, they’re going to find themselves associated with things that get, well, creative with social norms. More than that, things that anger and disgust.
The dark matter of Japan’s pop-cultural industry is huge amounts of edgy content. Some of it is quite disturbing. (Don’t worry, that isn’t a risky click: it’s a link to the time I got “lolicon” into The New Yorker.) I’m not a fan of this material, but I’ve always believed the freedom Japanese artists feel to go places that polite society doesn’t, is part of what gives the content industry such vitality here. I mean, even if you aren’t producing crazy stuff, the knowledge that nothing’s off limits has to unshackle imaginations. Or shackle them. I don’t judge.
Anyway, promoting the industry as a whole doesn’t equal endorsement of any given content, right? The views and opinions expressed in this program are those of the speakers, blah blah blah, right? Right. But also wrong. Because once you’ve made Content with a capital C the foundation of your nation’s economy, it becomes your official face to the world. That includes all of the skeevy stuff that freaks people out, in Japan and elsewhere. And the implications of that are downright existential, as in “can a nation really exist on pop culture alone?”
Japan, on the other hand, seems dedicated to the former. In February, Japanese government officials announced a plan to expand the size of the nation’s content production industry, meaning its books, manga, anime, games, movies, and more, to $130 billion USD by 2033, with an eye towards making pop culture a pillar of the economy.
I’ve written for years about how Japan’s network of cultural producers has won hearts and minds around the globe – how their efforts have contributed to Japan’s considerable soft power. But that was an organic development, entirely grass roots, the product of countless creators and consumers collaborating over many years to build one of the most vibrant environments for pop culture on the planet. The government is well aware of its nation’s reputation as a pop superpower, but it played little role in making it so.
What about the Cool Japan fund? Notoriously ineffective. Critics (who include the fund’s own CEO) frame this as a bad thing. But I think otherwise. The scandals, the questionable investments (Cars? Refrigerators!?), and general ineptitude are a blessing in disguise. I say this with no schadenfreude. The Cool Japan bureaucrats I’ve met all seem like good folks. I say it because a government getting involved in the production of fantasies has huge implications for societies. And to be frank, I don’t think any of the architects behind Japan’s big push have really thought them through. [...]
Freedom of expression is a good thing, most of us will agree. But free speech is where the problems will begin, and compound, for the Japanese government. If the authorities are really going to take an active stand in promoting everything, without interfering in those creative works, they’re going to find themselves associated with things that get, well, creative with social norms. More than that, things that anger and disgust.
The dark matter of Japan’s pop-cultural industry is huge amounts of edgy content. Some of it is quite disturbing. (Don’t worry, that isn’t a risky click: it’s a link to the time I got “lolicon” into The New Yorker.) I’m not a fan of this material, but I’ve always believed the freedom Japanese artists feel to go places that polite society doesn’t, is part of what gives the content industry such vitality here. I mean, even if you aren’t producing crazy stuff, the knowledge that nothing’s off limits has to unshackle imaginations. Or shackle them. I don’t judge.
Anyway, promoting the industry as a whole doesn’t equal endorsement of any given content, right? The views and opinions expressed in this program are those of the speakers, blah blah blah, right? Right. But also wrong. Because once you’ve made Content with a capital C the foundation of your nation’s economy, it becomes your official face to the world. That includes all of the skeevy stuff that freaks people out, in Japan and elsewhere. And the implications of that are downright existential, as in “can a nation really exist on pop culture alone?”
by Matt Alt, Pure Invention | Read more:
Image: uncredited
