Honne and Tatemae

Edward Luttwak, who describes himself as "historian and rancher," rather famously the former, offers an historical parallel to the present difficulties. I will not refer to the political issues of the day other than to note that this is what he is really talking about, but will explore his historical parallel in light of a Japanese (and Chinese) moral standard that Americans usually reject as a moral duty. 

The advantage of turning to the historical example is that the facts are clear. JFK used the Chicago machine, as well as fraud in Texas, to elevate himself to the Presidency. Nixon refused legal remedies, but accepted the result in what Luttwak describes as a patriotic spirit. 

One might ask whether patriotism can really require one to accept being cheated, or what to make of a government whose stability depends upon one side periodically refusing to mention that the other side cheats. On the other hand, this was during a dark period of the Cold War, when accepting being cheated may well have seemed preferable to weakening the United States government in the face of the USSR. JFK was a veteran and a patriot in his way; however corrupt, Nixon (himself not completely lacking in corruption) could reason that he wouldn't hand things over to the Communists.

The Japanese concept at work here is one called Tatemae and Honne, or, 'the façade' and 'the true sound.' There is a parallel concept in China, in which one is expected to maintain an outward façade of happiness and pleasure whatever one feels inside. This is considered an important moral duty to others, because it maintains their happiness and social harmony. It is considered very rude to be honest in ways that are upsetting to others, even if your feelings are grounded on true facts.

I have long thought that an important reason the American system does not (yet) admit of Chinese-style tyranny is that we generally reject this as a duty. We might suggest something like it for Thanksgiving, when people of all political opinions are at the table; but it is less about pretending that the divisions don't exist than about not raising them for a while. 

Likewise, I have suggested in this space that people who are disagreeable in the psychological sense serve a very important social purpose too: they are the ones who will point out when there is a problem everyone else might like to ignore, just because it is more comfortable and agreeable not to mention it. This can permit progress when otherwise progress might never occur. 

The more formal the meeting or the more public the situation, the more codified it will be and the more the tatemae will be displayed and the honne pushed down and repressed. Public and private are separated so ruthlessly in Japanese society that one rarely mixes with the other: sharing your recent family issues with your colleagues is as unthinkable as your wife coming to visit you at work. Should you decide to burden everyone with your worries and negative emotions, you would drop in the esteem of all Japanese around you for disturbing the positive effects of the tatemae.

For although it may take a hard toll on the individual, forbidden from speaking out his distress for fear of troubling his listener, it does create a harmonious atmosphere as all do their best to be cordial and outwardly friendly.

Taking on a burden to protect others is honorable, and doubtless this seems like a way of maintaining honor to the Japanese. Luttwak thinks it was patriotic to pretend in this way, and to avoid making a scene. Returning America to a harmonious atmosphere might be as simple as going along with the façade. Certainly everyone would be happier if we had a more harmonious nation, would they not?

I'm raising the issue for discussion, not to declare judgment on it. My own positions are well known and established, but it's worth talking over -- again, in the historical context rather than the present one, and as a question about whether this is indeed properly entailed in one's moral duties.