More about "Enryo" as a Window into Japanese Society

I talked recently about the concept of enryo, one of the most important aspects of social relationships in Japan. It literally means "to refrain from [doing]" and describes the tendency of Japanese people to be reserved around others, especially people they don't know well. If I had to pick, I'd say it's probably the single most important "ingredient X" that makes Japanese who they are. If you've ever noticed a Japanese person avoiding stating their own preferences or opinions without seeing what others think first, or watched a Japanese athlete make a very modest comment about a big win, you've seen enryo in action. You can also observe this phenomenon at a karaoke box, where groups can rent a private room and sing together. The first 15-30 minutes of a karaoke session usually involves shy Japanese people saying "no, you sing first!" "oh no, after you" without anyone jumping in, except for gaijin who don't know any better as they belt out "You wa shock!" (the opening from the Fist of the North Star theme song). While showing constraint and consideration for others certainly has its place, especially in a country with half the population of the U.S. crammed into an area 1/25 the size, it can be annoying, too. First of all, too much politeness is the "kiss of death" when it comes to making friends, and it seems the only way to make friends here is to willfully ignore some of the rules about what you should or shouldn't do in certain situations. Also, the Japanese can take the concept of hesitation too far. I had a Japanese friend in the U.S. who lived with us for a while, and he was trying so hard not to inconvenience us he had quite the opposite effect. We'd ask what he'd like for breakfast, and he'd say, "Oh, I'm not hungry. I'm still full from dinner last night."

The idea of enryo is also something parents are supposed to teach their children, and my own kids are rather an interesting study in this regard. From a young age, my son has always been a very polite and proper Japanese boy, always careful to manage his relationships with his circle of friends, called Hosoya-gumi because they all walk to school from the train station of the same name. He's so good at fitting in with the larger group that he can seem invisible at times, and he's complained to me that when he plays Dodge Ball, no one aims for him because he doesn't stand out enough for them to notice he's there. My daughter, on the other hand, apparently got a lot more of my American DNA, and she's always breaking the invisible social rules around her, not seeing what the group of friends she's with wants to do before blurting out her own preference, or making statements without thinking of the TPO, a Japanese-ism for "time, place, occasion." To use a word that's popular in Japan right now, she's "KY," which means kuuki o yomenai, literally "can't read the air" meaning that she can't pick up the subtleties of the situation she finds herself in. Of course, neither can I, despite living in Japan for 17 years. I guess we'll be okay somehow.