Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on November 2013
Every time I stand at a traffic light in Tokyo, waiting to cross the road, I marvel at the patience of pedestrians. Traffic-jammed highway or car-less obscure side street, nobody walks until the little green man sings.
Coming from South Africa, where jaywalking is as common as lions roaming the streets (okay, they don’t really roam, but you believed me, didn’t you?) and jumping a red light at night to avoid getting carjacked doesn’t raise an eyebrow, you can imagine my awe. As a law-abiding citizen who only really breaks the rules in situations like the above, I find myself relishing this profound respect for the little red man—as if it’s somehow the answer to all lawlessness. If every country could just get their people to remember that red means stop and green means go, we could solve half the world’s problems.
Okay, I’m deliberately exaggerating, but as a model for crowd control, I think I’m on to something. Just how Japanese society manages to instill such a sense of lawfulness in its people fascinates me—especially considering that the number of people living in Tokyo is near to South Africa’s entire population.
When I first arrived here six months ago, I read about the Japanese saying: deru kugi wa utareru (“the nail that sticks out gets hammered down”). Now that I’ve seen this informal yet ingrained rule of conformity in action, I can vouch for its merits. In South Africa, something as simple as renewing your passport could take anywhere from six weeks to three months, depending on whether your documents get “misplaced” along the way or not. So I’m continuously amazed by people, on a mass scale, doing the things they’re meant to do, when they’re meant to do it—like an entire train transport system running on time to the exact minute. (On the flipside, I’m also amazed that we’re still using faxes here, but that’s another story.)
Of course, I’ve heard alternative opinions on the matter, of the oppression this conformity inevitably leads to. And I’m well aware that Haruki Murakami’s popularity has plenty to do with his rebel streak; his conviction for preserving the individual. But there’s something to be said about order in the city.
I’m all for creativity and out-of-the-box thinking. In fact, most South Africans like to justify the volatility in our country by saying it gives us an edge; a vibrant, innovative culture where anything is possible. But most people who are not emotionally attached to the country still ask, “Is that really worth risking your life for?”
Japan, on the other hand, seems to enjoy the best of both worlds in this regard, at least from where I’m standing. I don’t have to worry about being pushed off my mamachari by someone wanting to steal my bike out under me in hot daylight. I’m not too concerned about a banged-up, bass-thumping taxi careering into me as I casually cycle through Shibuya without a helmet (a safety prerequisite on Johannesburg’s roads). At the same time, I also know that inspiration is around every corner here, in the form of ever-cool fashion; restaurants where attention to details extends far beyond just the food; and art galleries galore. Somehow Japan has managed to cocktail conformity with edge.
To me, it’s like wearing socks with heels. Something you only see and read about in aspirational fashion magazines, Tokyoites actually manage to get right on an everyday basis. No fuss. They just carry on with the business of being inherently stylish. No matter how harsh the humidity (socks at 35 degrees?), no matter what length their skirt (aren’t you always meant to show off ankles when wearing a maxi?), the pretty frilled stocking remains a staple of Japanese wardrobe culture. I don’t know anywhere else in the world where the woman on the street has adopted this trend so effortlessly.
And with such conformity.
It kind of brings new, literal meaning to the term “playing by the rules.”
As I continue to connect the dots of Japanese culture and wait for the bigger picture to reveal itself, I’ve started thinking—maybe next time I go home for a visit, I’ll wear socks with heels every day and start a revolution. We each have to do our bit for society, right?
