TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/110890/1108007.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 7.8 KB | 153 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 35

Who Needs Equality?


Not Japanese women, if it means leading the dreary lives of
their men

By KUMIKO MAKIHARA/TOKYO


    For a few months last year, it appeared as if a new wave of
feminism was sweeping Japan, raising a clamorous challenge to
age-old male authority. It began when housewives, enraged by a
new tax, swarmed to political rallies, urging that a "voice from
the kitchen" reach the male-dominated government. Socialist
Takako Doi, the first woman in Japanese history to lead a major
political party, inspired an unprecedented number of women to
run for the Diet's upper house, and they grabbed a record number
of seats. Prime Minister Sousuke Uno resigned in disgrace after
a former geisha he had patronized broke her profession's code
of silence to denounce him as too small-minded a man to lead the
country. His successor rushed to appoint two women to his
Cabinet. The press seized upon the opportunity to rave about the
dawning of Onna no Jidai (the Era of Women).

    But one year later, the dawn seems to have darkened. The
women Cabinet members have been replaced by men. The rallies
have evaporated. Enthusiasts of Onna no Jidai, it seems, spoke
too soon.

    Though Japanese women are among the best-educated women in
the world, they are, by Western standards, second-class citizens
in their own country. Traditional values discourage women from
appearing outspoken or independent-minded and demoralize those
who try to climb the political or business hierarchies. Only
one-fourth of major Japanese corporations have any women at all
in the middle-management or higher ranks. In government, women
constitute less than 1% of management-level bureaucrats and
about 6% of the 764 Diet members. The average woman's annual
income amounts to only half that of a man's. Why, then, aren't
Japanese women angry? Why aren't they marching en masse for
equality? Why didn't they stoke the spark of Onna no Jidai?

    The fact of the matter is that equality with men is not a
particularly appealing prospect to most Japanese women right
now. Educated young women, those most likely to lead a
revolution, tend to see their male peers as dull corporate
drones. Women, meanwhile, with comparatively freer schedules,
have more time to cultivate their interests. As a result, there
is a growing perception gap between the sexes. A much discussed
phenomenon known as Narita divorce illustrates the problem: upon
arriving back home at Tokyo's Narita Airport, fresh from their
honeymoons, many worldly young women, shocked to have discovered
the narrow-mindedness and dependency of their new bridegrooms,
promptly dump them.

    Yutsuko Chusonji is the author of a best-selling comic-book
series called Sweet Spot, which pokes fun at workaholic men and
salutes attitudes of young female workers. Rushing out of their
offices in the evening to practice golf and go shopping, "these
women savor only the tastiest portion of life," explains
Chusonji, 28. "Men don't realize that it isn't worth it to work
more than necessary. Women see that, so they don't want to
become career women."

    Indeed, while a 1985 law bans sex discrimination and
requires Japanese companies to offer females the same
opportunities available to males, few women choose to apply for
career-track jobs. Most opt to work as assistants to men. "I
could work in the career track if I wanted to, but I'm not that
interested in banking, and I certainly don't want to do it all
my life," says a 26-year-old bank employee from Tokyo.
Typically, a woman will leave her job after the birth of her
first child and later resume a part-time career or pursue
hobbies or community work.

    Being a housewife is nothing to be ashamed of in Japan.
Becasue most husbands leave their salaries and children entirely
in the hands of their wives, women have wide-ranging
responsibilities. It was not always thus. Traditionally, wives
and children obeyed the father as ruler of the roost. But
postwar economic growth toppled fathers from that lofty post by
imposing longer work hours that kept them away from home. At the
same time, modern appliances freed women from household
drudgery. "Housewives can pursue their interests in a carefree
manner, while men have to worry about supporting their wives and
children," says Makiko Katagiri, 32, a college-educated
housewife who plays volleyball once a week and runs the PTA at
her childen's nursery school.

    The father's status has so declined that mental-health
experts speak of a new male affliction: kitaku kyofu sho, or a
"fear of returning home syndrome." A popular television
commercial for an insecticide spray shows a father waking up one
day to find he has turned into a cockroach. The ad warns
housewives, "If you see a large cockroach, it might be your
husband. Please check before you exterminate." Even men will
sometimes admit that their privileged status in society isn't
all roses. "Women know how to enjoy themselves more than men
do," says a mid-level executive of a major Japanese auto
company. "Men are too tired. We're all about to collapse."

    Those women who do try to join the professional ranks must
not only match the men hour for hour but also be prepared to do
continuous battle with skeptical views of their aspirations to
be more than lovely but low-level "office flowers." Some
companies endorse traditional expectations that women will
resign when they get married. Toyota Motor Corp., for instance,
gives women who do so a special "farewell money gift" of up to
three months' salary. And Japanese companies are just awakening
to the concept of sexual harassment. Many women complain that
their managers attribute successful business deals by women to
their feminine wiles rather than their work skills.

    Would-be career women face equally great obstacles at home,
where men feel no obligation to pitch in. A 1986 government
survey of dual-career couples found that men devote only eight
minutes of a workday to household chores and child rearing,
compared with 3 1/2 hours for their wives. Younger men
increasingly take out the garbage and play with their children
on weekends but still leave most household affairs to their
wives. A 33-year-old banker typically relies on his wife to lay
out his clothes each morning. But, he adds, "I select the
necktie."

    Raising children is another major hurdle, since day-care
centers usually run for only eight hours and baby-sitters are
expensive. No wonder many women with careers are not married.
A 1989 Labor Ministry survey found that 60% of management-level
women are single, and 36% are childless.

    But things are bound to change. Japan faces a huge labor
shortage, and companies cannot ignore the female labor pool.
Eager to ease the tight market, the Labor Ministry recently
developed a training program specifically for women who want to
return to work. At the same time, the government is urging men
to shorten their work hours and cultivate outside interests in
order to improve the quality of their lives.

    But none of this can be realized unless men ease the load
on women by learning how to take care of themselves. "In Japan
the women's issue is really a men's issue," says Sachiko
Nakajima, a deputy director at the National Personnel Authority,
which oversees public employees. Kanagawa prefecture, southwest
of Tokyo, shares her view. A 1988 prefectural-office newsletter
published a test to gauge male self-reliance, asking, Do you
know where your suits, neckties, socks and underwear are kept?
Have you ever used a washing machine? Can you name more than
three friends of your children? Only when more men answer yes
to these questions can Onna no Jidai become a reality.