[Feature: Sovereigns and Public Opinion] Roundtable: What is Needed to Encourage Political Participation Among Young People?

With the House of Representatives election approaching, it is said that voter turnout among the younger generation in Japan has been extremely low in recent years. Today, I would like to touch upon the essential aspects of the problems of representative democracy and democracy itself, primarily using the perspective of how to encourage political participation among young people.

First, if we compare voter turnout in national elections—specifically among youth—internationally, Japan's is overwhelmingly low even within OECD countries. In the 18 to 24 age group, only about 30-something percent vote. In other countries, it is common to see turnouts in the 60s, or even the 80s in high-turnout nations. Why is it so low here?

Furthermore, although the voting age was lowered to 18 starting with the 2016 House of Councillors election, the turnout for teenagers, which was about 47% in 2016, dropped sharply to about 32% in the 2019 House of Councillors election.

However, declining voter turnout is not a problem unique to Japan. While Japan is exceptionally low, similar declines in turnout are seen in Europe and the US, particularly the phenomenon of young people not going to the polls. Even in France, where everyone seems interested in politics, it appears that young people are becoming unable to find interest in it.

A similar phenomenon is seen in the UK, but let me introduce a unique idea. David Runciman, a political thought researcher at the University of Cambridge, says this is a structural problem. In short, because there are overwhelmingly more elderly voters, it makes little difference even if 100% of young people participate. Therefore, Runciman suggests lowering the UK voting age, currently 18, to "6 years old" (laughs).

The reason for 6 years old is that they should be able to read to some extent, but he faced various criticisms, such as that they would just end up following what their parents say. But he counters, "In the past, when granting women the right to vote, it was said they would just do as their husbands said, but that wasn't the case. Besides, do you really think children listen to what their parents say?" (laughs).

Of course, he himself likely thinks there is no possibility of it being realized; he is pointing out that there is a structural problem.

With that in mind, I would like you all to have a discussion. Ms. Miura, you emphasize the issue of parité (gender-equal political participation). When considering the issue of youth representation, how do you view the current situation, and what do you think should be done?

Aiming to achieve parité, I co-founded a general incorporated association called the "Parité Academy" in 2018 with Ki-young Shin of Ochanomizu University, and we conduct political leadership training for young women.

I think there are several reasons why young people are not interested in politics or do not go to vote. Certainly, structural problems are significant. Because the youth population volume is small now, they likely feel that ultimately, whatever they do or say has no meaning, leading to a low sense of political efficacy.

Also, I feel there is a segment among students who hold strong norms, such as "only people with correct political knowledge should engage in correct voting behavior." They hesitate to vote because they feel they cannot make a correct judgment. That's why I thought a discussion like "lowering it to 6 years old" would be provocative and very interesting if held in Japan.

In Japan's case, it seems necessary to first "detoxify" the qualifications for political participation. As a student, as a young person, and as a sovereign citizen, the political demands coming from the life you are living have legitimacy in themselves, and it is okay to make political statements and take action starting from there. I believe we must first convey this.

Another reason for the low sense of political efficacy is that the differences in the claims of political parties are not well understood.

High schools also seem to be conducting sovereign citizen education like "let's compare manifestos," but even if you read the pledges of the LDP, the CDP, and the Communist Party, they are lined with flowery phrases like free education, solving child poverty, or a secure aging society, and the differences between parties aren't very visible.

However, if you look at the underlying ideologies and values, there is actually a considerable gap. But since that isn't understood without taking a lot of time to explain, I feel it's difficult to convey.

I think a mechanism is also at work where, if people focus on the consensus issues that come to the forefront during elections, they don't see much difference and thus don't vote, thinking it won't matter where they cast their single vote.

In the Cabinet Office's international attitude survey, the percentage of Japanese youth who respond that they are "interested in politics" is not that low compared to other countries. The characteristic of Japanese youth is that political interest does not lead to concrete political practice. For example, it doesn't lead to actions like becoming a party member, participating in political rallies, or simply talking about politics.

Immediately after the voting age was lowered to 18 in 2016, high school teachers on the ground were quite conscious of providing sovereign citizen education, but voter turnout dropped in the next national election in 2019. Moreover, the turnout for 19-year-olds is even lower compared to 18-year-olds.

In voting behavior theory, there are two concepts: the aging effect and the stickiness effect. The aging effect is the idea that even if people don't go to elections when they are young, they gradually start going as they get older. Therefore, young people who aren't voting now might start heading to the polls as they age.

The other is the concept of the stickiness effect. This posits that if voters vote when they first gain the right to vote, they will continue to vote thereafter. In other words, the higher the turnout at the point they gain the right to vote, the more it will increase later, combined with the aging effect.

When considering why voter turnout among the elderly is high now, it's because the era when they first gained the right to vote was a "season of politics." Thinking from these two hypotheses, we can predict that today's youth will likely start going to vote in the future, but the stickiness effect won't work, and they won't reach the turnout levels of today's middle-aged and elderly.

It's the same in every country that youth turnout is lower than the older generation, but it's frustrating that it doesn't spill over into direct political action like in other countries.

I once wrote a book based on lecture notes from a political science class I gave to female junior and senior high school students at a prep school in Tokyo called "Starting the Future." What was striking in the class was that despite having very high social interest and a very strong desire to actively engage with society and do something useful, everyone said they didn't want to get involved in politics. Even students who are so academically capable and have social interest and knowledge still feel a great distance from politics.

They feel that "Politics" with a capital P—such as politicians, the ideologies of various parties, political movements, and protests—is something extremely distant, and that participating in it requires courage and is something they don't want to be involved in. I received the impression that they have a sense of crisis that getting involved in such things might cause their peaceful lives to be swept up in something uncontrollable, leading to a loss of their tranquility.

In the current situation of depoliticization, young people today feel that committing to politics is a very scary thing and not something very "cool." That might be why it doesn't easily lead to voting behavior.

However, saying they have no political interest or are not committed to society because of that is a simplistic opinion, and I want to acknowledge that they are thinking about how to engage with society in their own way. That said, I can't exactly say, "No, it's fine not to go vote," so I believe how to change the high threshold for voting is a very important challenge.

I think you are right that they don't want to get involved in Politics with a capital P, and that they feel fear and distance.

I don't follow the internet much and don't do SNS, but I feel the reactions I get in the classroom and the reactions online are a bit different. Mr. Nishida, what do you think?

To begin with, on the internet, it's ambiguous who is young or not, or whether they are male or female. Since people can post anonymously, many are in a special situation where they can speak out against real-name politicians or political opinion leaders from a safe zone, in a sense. That might actually be a natural state, but in Japan's case, I have the impression that this special space is expanding only on the internet. It's a reversal phenomenon where people can't speak comfortably in the classroom precisely because their statements are linked to their real names and are evaluated.

Mr. Yoshida mentioned that the turnout for 18-year-olds was relatively high while the turnout for 19-year-olds was low, and I think this is closely related to the issue of education. High school is often called quasi-compulsory education, so perhaps a certain kind of intervention from teachers through school education is effective.

On the other hand, by age 19, the rate of advancement to four-year universities exceeds 50%. For example, I feel that even if you say something to university students, it doesn't really get through, but there are also others living as working adults without being integrated into an educational curriculum.

Looking at it differently, this seems to tell a story that we must think about how to foster political subjects while still providing educational intervention.

In Japan, the political subject and its ideal form have been an unwritten rule. Too much emphasis was placed on education and politics being neutral, so there was little interest in fostering political subjects, and perhaps due to historical circumstances, there was little discussion as well.

I see. I think there are many cases where young people these days excessively "read the room" in the classroom, so to speak, and take great care not to hurt others. That's why they don't criticize, and there are many cases where discussions don't get lively.

On the other hand, on the internet, partly because of anonymity, various opinions come out, don't they? Are political movements and discussions frequently carried out on SNS in Japan as well?

For example, following the MeToo movement, various unique derivatives emerged in Asia. In Japan as well, a movement was launched called KuToo, based on the idea that it's painful for women to wear high heels and that since there are workplaces where wearing them is mandatory, let's stop this.

Also, protests in front of the National Diet Building have been conducted in a way that moves back and forth between the internet and the actual site, and there are examples where this actually led to election campaigns in places like Hokkaido. I see it as having developed in various forms.

The reason young people look quiet with high peer pressure in the classroom might be influenced by the fact that, on top of the school space that binds them for long hours, everyone is constantly connected in dense online spaces, especially through services like LINE. Recently, it seems they are doing things like solving assignments while everyone is connected on LINE.

I also think the sense that disturbing the harmony or being kicked out of it would interfere with their lives might be affecting the behavior and normative consciousness of young people.

I think activism among youth and women has really become active recently. Regarding women, MeToo in Japan, which was triggered by the Shiori Ito case in 2017, began slightly before the US-originated "#MeToo," but I think 2018 was a year when social awakening spread all at once as the sexual harassment case involving the Vice Minister of Finance and gender discrimination in School of Medicine entrance exams came to light.

In 2019, with the further buildup of MeToo and KuToo, Flower Protests were held nationwide every month for a year, making the issue of sexual violence visible. Then, news of Japan ranking 121st in the Gender Gap Index at the end of the year broke, and shock spread through society. Major media and companies could no longer ignore the gender gap. I think the accumulation of the feminist movement is what made it possible to get this far.

I think the word "activism" fits perfectly—the desire to take some action as an individual to change society. There are specific individual issues like solving period poverty or revising the penal code, and methods like starting signature campaigns or spreading information on Instagram and Twitter are common. As a result, I think successful experiences are steadily accumulating. There is also a characteristic that many of the central figures are women in their 20s.

But on the other hand, as Mr. Uno said, it's true that there is a great distance from party politics, a sense of avoidance. I think there is a strong wariness about being swept up in the logic of party politics or Nagatacho, which is different from their own logic and uncontrollable.

I'm sorry, it seems my perception was a bit off; so political movements are becoming quite active in Japan as well.

However, I think there is a gap between those movements mainly on SNS and the atmosphere in the classroom that Mr. Uno mentioned earlier. I often ask students, "Do you all have discussions about politics?" and the overwhelming majority say, "We definitely don't."

I first learned the term "ishiki-takai-kei" (socially conscious type) then, and it's not used positively; it's more of a feeling of keeping one's distance. I have the impression that the majority almost never discuss politics with their friends on a daily basis.

I think it's true that the majority are still careful not to be seen as the "socially conscious type."

It's probably polarizing. The fact that the actions of some kids have become visible is a movement of the last few years. It's definitely a small minority, and even those kids don't want to be seen as involved in actions in the classroom.

But it's not that everyone is uninterested in society or politics. Online classes have actually made it easier to speak up. When I shared a form where students could post in class and told them they couldn't get credit unless they posted multiple times, very good opinions came out (laughs). And a lot of them. So, I feel that if we just give them a little nudge, it's possible to draw out their engagement.

Speaking structurally, in terms of numbers, Japanese youth are an overwhelming minority in society. Furthermore, in what is originally a gerontocratic society where the people with cultural capital are all middle-aged and elderly men, it is extremely difficult to raise one's voice.

Returning to the topic of voter turnout, with the exception of Northern Europe, turnout in OECD countries has been continuously declining by about 5-7% over the last 40 years or so. In other words, it's not just a problem for Japan; behind it are issues surrounding current representative democracy.

However, on the other hand, if you compare the 1970s and the 2000s in the UK, the US, and France, the number of people participating in protests or engaging in political participation through activism like boycotts has roughly doubled in almost every country. Yet, the heat of political activity in Japan has actually declined.

Following Robert A. Dahl's polyarchy, it can only be called a liberal democracy if there is both "participation" and "dissent." However, in Japan, both the aspect of participation and the aspect of dissent have decreased. In other countries, participation through voting has indeed decreased, but dissent has increased by that much.

It is certainly true that the opportunities to express democratic political participation in Japan are narrowing. More than voter turnout itself, I think this is the critical thing for democracy.

As you say, dissent is alive and well in France, and they still frequently hold protests, but I have the impression that they are quite few in Japan.

Pierre Rosanvallon speaks of counter-democracy (la contre-démocratie). He says that while democracy of course has institutions, the weight lies in speaking out and dissenting from the outside. Why doesn't it become like that here?

In Haruki Murakami's early novels like "Hear the Wind Sing," one theme is how to behave in a depoliticized era. That generation is now the parent generation of today's youth.

As for why sovereign citizen education took its current form, joint research with educational scholars revealed that it was influenced by the Ministry of Education's policy at the time on how to calm down excessively politicized schools after the campus unrest of the 70s. It's like the saying "once bitten, twice shy," but we haven't yet seen a post-depoliticization sovereign citizen education.

If politics isn't discussed at home and parents don't go to vote, children naturally won't go. If, like in France, about half the population has experience participating in protests and parents take their children along, they will come to think that political participation is a normal thing to do.

I thought you were exactly right. Whether there is a place to experience such things when you are young makes a huge difference. There is indeed a difference between the 60s in Japan, when university students participated in politics as a matter of course, and the current era, where they can't even find a clue as to how to participate.

To be honest, I had never participated in a protest in Japan, but when I was in France from 2000 to 2002, I participated in a protest for the first time during that "anti-Le Pen" period.

I've also participated while pushing my child in a stroller (laughs).

Ordinary high school students do it. When I participated, I unexpectedly thought, "Protests are fun," and having gotten a taste for it, I came back to Japan and participated in an anti-Iraq War protest, only to be surrounded by police and have my photo taken, which I remember made me completely lose interest.

Gaining experience is very significant. Audrey Tang's digital democracy in Taiwan also has an accumulation of successful experiences within student movements. Relatively speaking, it has become very difficult to have that kind of experience in today's Japan.

It's hard to generalize, but I felt there were significant differences in the tendencies of SEALDs (Students Emergency Action for Liberal Democracy) participants depending on the university. What stood out in the leadership layer were Meiji Gakuin and ICU—universities where students likely have study abroad experience and there are many international students on campus.

Alternatively, organizations centered on young students like "NO YOUTH NO JAPAN," which Ms. Miura and I have been involved with recently, were started by people who studied abroad in Northern Europe.

I think if people gain the experience from a young age that "it's natural to be able to participate in politics," there is a possibility that their behavior will change.

I'd like to ask Mr. Nishida: we now have the internet, which didn't exist at least when I was young. Is there any hope, or signs of change, or possibilities using that as a breakthrough?

While young people have the perception that "getting involved with politics is dangerous" or "I don't want to be biased," I think it's favorable that they can now dissent anonymously if they take one step forward. Another point regarding commitment is that it can be viewed positively that it has become easier to give money to active organizations through things like crowdfunding.

However, I have the perception that fundamental problems haven't changed much.

I work in a somewhat special workplace dealing with students specializing in science and technology. While they basically don't want to get involved in Politics with a capital P, I also see people who are strongly poisoned by biased perceptions.

Since the weight of civics-related subjects is low, I think they might be more susceptible to things like conspiracy theories of history than students at comprehensive universities or humanities students. Their interest in gender issues is also extremely low. On the other hand, there is a gap in that their academic ability regarding science and technology is extremely high.

I also worry that if they don't take appropriate humanities liberal arts subjects after entering university to supplement what's missing, they might spontaneously dig deeper and deeper into things like conspiracy theories.

The saving grace is a certain kind of intelligence; when I show them things like "no, the data is different," they gradually come back. In that sense, I don't really have the feeling that "things will naturally get better if we have the internet."

That's a very important point, and I think you're right.

On the other hand, dissent is something that, according to original democratic ideals, should be done within dialogue. Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of "taji-soron" (diverse opinions and vigorous debate), where various opinions are expressed and clashed, and better opinions emerge from that. It's a John Stuart Mill-like idea, but I have the impression that currently, especially on Twitter and the like, criticism and dissent are happening without that process or etiquette.

How do we conduct that criticism and dialogue? I repeatedly emphasize in class that "critique is important," but it's not just about criticizing; it's also about listening properly to what the other person is saying and having a back-and-forth. I think this is important for democracy.

I completely agree with your point that discussion is important. But on the other hand, the cost of discussion has become very high; discussion requires both time and a place.

Consequently, I feel there's an increasing number of people who don't quite understand why they have to go out of their way to discuss things with someone who has different opinions and is, in a sense, unpleasant. There's also an atmosphere of disliking attitude change, with people saying things like "being defeated in an argument."

Furthermore, places like the so-called "rondan" (public forum for debate) where researchers from different fields talk are also disappearing. In fact, recent empirical research points out that even the perception of words differs by generation; for example, basic perceptions of terms like "conservative" or "progressive" are becoming different.

Originally, engaging in discussion and being tolerant of attitude change should probably be a set. However, among young people recently, there seems to be an aspect where changing one's attitude is linked to a kind of sense of shame, like "losing" or "losing consistency."

The more that is the case, the higher the cost-consciousness of discussing, changing one's attitude, acknowledging it, and doing something together becomes. I believe how to release this is a major challenge.

That "winning and losing" is really seen a lot lately. In fact, I feel some people think of parliamentary politics in national government as simply "winning or losing." I think that's not the case; a parliament is decision-making for the whole community, and there's an ideal that the winning side should pursue cooperation that includes minorities and others.

There are recent ideas like deliberative democracy, but if dialogue is important yet its cost is high, it's a bit of a dark story.

As you say, encouraging attitude change through the back-and-forth of discussion via dialogue is the basic or ideal form of democracy, but I don't think that is currently shared socially.

I think there's a premise there that autonomous and equal individuals who can make independent judgments participate, but from the students' perspective, they find power dynamics in places of dialogue and discussion. Teachers and students have different knowledge and different power.

Or even between men and women, power dynamics operate in various ways, so I think they might feel that setting the premise that everyone is an autonomous and equal individual is a fiction or hypocrisy of liberalism.

In other words, even if they want to dissent, they feel firsthand how much they will be attacked if they say it. Even if they won't be hauled off by the police, they are quite conscious that it might be a negative in job hunting. On SNS and the like, there's a possibility of being identified, so I often hear about self-censorship like "I'll refrain from political statements because it will be disadvantageous for job hunting."

Women in particular are attacked tremendously. That's not criticism; it's the likes of slander, defamation, and hate. Dissent against sexism and sexual violence in particular receives fierce attacks. Bashing targeting feminists in online spaces is horrific. Since the younger generation knows what happens when women stand out through SNS, while it's easier to raise their voices on SNS, you could also say the threshold has actually risen.

The challenge is how to make platforms and providers take responsibility to create a safer space for discourse, but the boundary between what is freedom of expression and what is slander or hate is not yet shared by society. I think we won't reach the ideal of "diverse opinions and vigorous debate" unless we solve this problem.

The cost of deliberation that Mr. Nishida mentioned is becoming higher in various senses.

One aspect is related to demographics; currently, when attitude surveys are conducted in developed nations, the majority of people believe that "the children's generation will likely not be as wealthy as our own." In fact, in many countries, the current younger generation is unable to obtain what the parent generation could acquire when they were young. This has been a trend since the 2000s and is the first such phenomenon since the post-war era, but the percentage is particularly high in Japan.

In other words, living under the premise that tomorrow will be worse than yesterday, the younger the person is, the more they feel this as they live their daily lives. In that context, a rational strategy becomes not "how to win," but "how not to lose." Within that mindset, it is a considerably high hurdle to think about, participate in, and speak out regarding communities like the nation or region, or about others who have no relation to one's own gain or loss.

This also explains the cancel culture gaining momentum in developed countries. It erupted in Japan during the Olympics as well; if something does not fit one's sense of justice or align with political correctness, people try to strip away the opponent's very right to speak. This stance of trying not to lose is driving up the cost of deliberation.

In a space that validates encouraging behavioral change, such as the deliberative democracy mentioned by Mr. Tsutsumibayashi, a specific trust toward others or toward the setting itself is required. This trust cannot be established without the conviction that one shares a certain homogeneity with the other party. Only within that can criticism that actually reaches the other person become possible.

In a society that is diversifying and individualizing to this extent, such mutual trust is difficult to foster, so criticism ends up becoming a denial of the other person. I believe the current situation is that this has become the mode of public discourse.

Looking at social media lately, you often hear the phrase "Yes, debunked." In short, they just cut the other person down. They say to each other, "I debunked you. You lose."

One major characteristic of this trend is that there is never any listening to the opponent's argument, consideration of their position, compromise, or meeting halfway. It is not the enemy in front of them that matters, but the allies behind them who support them. If they cut down an opponent in a debate and return, they get cheered on by their allies; if they make a clumsy compromise, they get stabbed in the back instead. This is far from a culture of dialogue.

So, what should be done? You mentioned John Stuart Mill and Yukichi Fukuzawa earlier, and I think British parliamentary politics originally had a foundation for this. At least among leaders, they shared a certain culture and education; even if they were ideologically opposed, their cultural backgrounds were not that far apart, and they had personal relationships.

A certain British politician said that, in the end, the most important thing in parliamentary politics is eating together. No matter how much you fight normally, when humans eat together, they physiologically become less capable of holding onto hatred. Even with people you truly disagree with, as long as you are eating together, there is room for compromise in an emergency.

I think dining as a metaphor is important. It is something close to empathy accompanied by a sense of physicality. I feel a desire to be able to experience some kind of space even pseudo-physically on social media, and to share a place accompanied by a sense of physicality.

I would like to think about education. There are national policies like voter education and high school-university articulation reforms, and I would like to hear your opinions on these areas.

Kensuke Harada, who is currently running for office from the Constitutional Democratic Party, used to run an NPO for voter education. When I asked him, "What kind of talks do you give to students?" he said he has them discuss what they want in their community—in other words, what kind of public goods are necessary.

For example, if the opinion "we want a park" comes up, it leads to "then what do we actually need to do to build a park?" That leads to discussions about negotiations with the government office and local residents, or how to obtain subsidies. He said, "That is where politics begins."

He is exactly right. I believe that political things gradually begin from the point where people who feel some kind of inconvenience in their daily lives collaborate on how to remove that difficulty and make the world a better place.

Recently, conscription was partially reinstated in Sweden and France. Although France abolished military service in 1995 and Sweden in 2010, there was no notable public opposition to its return. When I asked about this in Sweden and France out of curiosity, the answer was, "This is a social policy."

In other words, in this day and age, if young people are left alone, their world remains confined only to their private living space. Instead, for even just a few days out of the year, they share a space with people whose social backgrounds are completely different from their own and, quite literally, "eat from the same pot." I was convinced by the explanation that this is a social policy because without such social experiences, society would become fragmented and collapse.

Returning to the Japanese context, it is necessary for us to shift our view of power, or rather, our way of interacting with politics. The current view of power and politics is heavily focused on how to exclude the intervention of power from private spaces and private domains.

Instead, we must seriously think about how to create "good power" through collaboration, how to participate in the community for that purpose, and how to procure the cultural capital for participation; otherwise, the maintenance of democracy is impossible.

In the political education I conduct mainly for young women at the Parité Academy, even enthusiastic high school students attend. When I ask why they come to a seminar for aspiring politicians, they are often carrying a sense of difficulty in living as female high school students.

For example, when they tell those around them about being groped, they are blamed, told things like "It's because you're wearing a short skirt" or "You should just change train cars." They suffer secondary victimization. Even though it should be a social problem, they are told "it's your fault" and get hurt, feeling that something is wrong. Many people come because they think, "Maybe we need to change politics."

Whether an initial realization or sense of discomfort leads to political participation depends on whether the individual can feel that the worries and anxieties they carry are not just personal problems, but are created within the social structure and can be changed through political action. Once this connection becomes visible, they begin to feel that they must get involved in politics.

The "politics" meant here, as Mr. Yoshida says, is creating good power—in other words, taking power and exercising it to influence policy formation and bring about concrete social change.

In the case of women, the image of female politicians is poor, and reactions like "There's no way I could do that" or "I don't want to be that kind of woman" come up. But politics is about listening to everyone's worries and anxieties, reframing each person's struggle as a universal social issue, identifying the systems that are causing or worsening the problem, and changing them.

The profession of a politician is to perform this work in collaboration with citizens. When you shift the image of a politician in this way, people suddenly become interested. This is because they can feel that they don't want the next generation to experience the unpleasant things they did, and for that, politics is necessary.

In our workshops, we repeatedly delve into these experiences of facing irrationality as a woman, but speech practice is particularly effective. It is hardly ever done in Japanese education. When they practice, everyone gets better. Their words become sharpened. I believe conducting speech practice in middle and high schools is necessary as voter education.

During speech practice, when I say, "Please praise your friend's speech first," many girls report that being told it was good by a friend made them very happy and gave them confidence. I was actually surprised that they aren't being praised that much normally.

In Japan, society as a whole is too harsh; there is a lot of fault-finding and few experiences of being praised, so young people lack confidence. As the responsibility of adults, I believe we need to be more conscious of raising them through praise.

A further characteristic of Japanese youth is that their self-esteem is extremely low. It is the lowest among developed nations. Another thing, looking at OECD surveys, is that the time spent studying alone during compulsory education is very long in Japan. Opportunities to learn or study something collaboratively are very few. They lack confidence in themselves and do not work collaboratively with others. It is hard to expect democratic politics to be born in such an environment.

I write textbooks for middle school civics and high school "Public," politics, and economics. The new high school subject "Public" starting next fiscal year was created with a lot of enthusiasm, but at least for the publisher I work with, while the number of discussion themes has increased, the basic framework hasn't changed much.

As expected, what appears at the beginning are explanations of systems—the presidential system, parliamentary system, single-seat constituency system, proportional representation, separation of powers... and it goes on forever. I said, "Can't we change this already?" but when that is done, politics is perceived as something where you basically just memorize knowledge. Finally, toward the end, it gets to local government and says things like "let's find local issues," but usually time runs out before getting there.

By the time they reach high school, they have almost no connection to the local community. Since it is the period when they are most sensitive and have the most ability and energy, I really want them to face local issues a bit more. In other words, I think we should start from the idea that democracy is originally about solving the things around you with your own power. I think there is room to change the structure of textbooks and the way classes are conducted.

However, I do feel change. I run a contest called "Challenge!! Open Governance (COG)" with the University of Tokyo Graduate School of Public Policy, where local governments present issues and student or citizen groups propose solutions. This year, the number of high school and college student teams increased dramatically, and their work is very good.

Nowadays, even high schoolers conduct truly impressive research, and not a few of them make proposals and actually take action. Therefore, I want them to do a bit more of solving local issues and things around them with their own power at the high school stage. On top of that, I think studying very specialized subjects at university would be a good combination.

Regarding education, as I mentioned at the beginning, I believe that in our society, the opportunity to think about how to concretize social norms regarding political subjects is overlooked too much.

In Japan, the high school enrollment rate exceeds 95%, and many people are in a school setting until age 18. If that is the case, shouldn't we be discussing what kind of political subjects to foster, and how, during the period up to high school?

The concept of political socialization in political science originally stems from the concept of socialization in sociology. Even if one does not make a commitment to politics, they are still choosing something. Whether one intervenes or not, some kind of value is formed. If so, it can be said that intervening also has a certain significance.

Looking at voter education in other countries, major reforms—particularly the Crick Report on citizenship education in the UK—were inseparable from the flow of new social democracy. I believe they directed a strong awareness toward fostering political subjects from the 2000s onward, but in Japan, interest remains thin even after the voting age was lowered.

The EU has also begun to emphasize the intent of "fostering EU citizens" within the EU Charter. In our society as well, don't we need a proactive vision of how to foster political subjects and what they should be like?

I think bringing issues concerning values into the school setting is seen as too much of a taboo in Japan. While I think it is important to actually go into the community and be active, many of the local sites students are sent to from schools are stereotyped workplaces. More thought should be given to how controversial issues can be handled in schools.

What becomes important then is creating rules to firmly protect school teachers. It is known that even during the period when interest turned toward voter education, there were politicians from both the ruling and opposition parties who would call up schools. I believe it is important to create an environment where value-related issues can be handled while firmly protecting school teachers.

I think you've said something very important. To what extent can we handle things where values conflict at the high school stage? Since we must protect high school teachers, I think there are politically difficult aspects. Under the current political climate, I think universities have a responsibility to actively take this on instead.

At the high school stage, I think it is effective to start by looking at solving local issues that are not directly linked to party political divides. I think discussing things from the perspective of the SDGs is also effective as a mechanism. Among these, I definitely want them to observe local assemblies.

At the Parité Academy, we always include a panel discussion with female local councilors. Since many young people have rarely met local councilors, they know almost nothing about what they do or what kind of people they are. When they hear stories about how period poverty was solved or how air conditioners were installed in schools because a councilor spoke up in the assembly, the process of solving local issues becomes visible to them.

While it's true that going into local sites is important, in the end, many of the political subjects we discuss often don't go beyond academic theories. If that's the case, it seems to me that it might be better to engage with controversial themes—themes related to "Politics" with a capital P—from an earlier stage.

For example, I think it is equally important to provide an environment where middle and high school students can discuss major conflicting points, such as whether the Japan-US security framework should be maintained as is, in an interesting way without being heckled from the outside.

It's true that local issues tend to become forced programs, and if it's like semi-compulsory volunteering, it's not very interesting.

However, there are places that are breaking through that situation. At Oki Dozen High School in Shimane Prefecture, where I am involved, high school students are proactively taking the lead in reforming the island. Even in middle schools in the Sanriku region, middle schoolers spoke up and were very active during the reconstruction process after the Great East Japan Earthquake.

I take University of Tokyo students to a housing complex in Miyamae Ward, Kawasaki City every year. It's a stylish town along the Den-en-toshi Line, but in reality, the complex was built during the high-growth period and is mostly on high ground, so everyone is aging and becoming "shopping refugees." Just by taking U-Tokyo students there every year and having them help with shopping, they say things like they never imagined such things were happening locally. I thought that having such experiences and thinking about them is good for U-Tokyo students too.

After all, even at the high school stage, university professors need to cooperate to increase the "software" (content), and I want to break through the old-fashioned local aspects a bit.

On the other hand, what Mr. Nishida said about preparing an environment where middle and high school students can safely discuss big issues like security, and guaranteeing protection for teachers, is exactly right, and I have no objection to that point.

I think the challenge is how to secure a place where people can discuss things safely. I think the hardest thing in the high school setting is history education.

In the case of Tokyo, while many teachers are receiving disciplinary action for not standing for the national flag or singing the national anthem at graduation ceremonies, I am very concerned about whether high schools today have the freedom to question Japan's colonial responsibility and perpetrator responsibility.

Even though education on how to summarize history is an extremely important theme for fostering political subjectivity, the reality is that such spaces for discourse are cramped up to the high school stage. Then, when it comes to where to do it, as a practical matter, the role of universities becomes large. It will also be necessary for university faculty to cooperate and expand social education.

Issues like the comfort women are also very difficult to talk about, but when students look them up online, many are historical revisionist materials, and some students fall into things like conspiracy theories. I think it is very important to figure out how to secure a place for history education that prevents that from happening.

The theme of this special feature is "Sovereigns and the Public Will," but this is an abstract concept, and even among political scientists, opinions don't easily align.

Finally, I would like to ask each of you for a message to young people on how this "sovereign and public will" can be explained based on our discussion so far, and how it can be felt as something a bit more real and familiar.

It's not actually the case that the world only changes when 51% of people move. In reality, when there are some people pushing forward with reform, if there are about 20% followers who say, "That's interesting. I'll try it too," society often moves and changes all at once.

I think young people today have been told over and over since they were children that it's difficult to change society because they are an overwhelming minority in terms of numbers, but it would be good if they could have a successful experience of being able to move and change society themselves. For that, we should have them experiment, and the people above them should support those experiments more.

Through such things, society changes little by little, and before you know it, the state of society has changed significantly. I believe that what is shown through that process is also, in its own way, the public will.

The public will shown in elections is important, but I hope that the modest desire shown in daily political practice—the thought that "if this happens, society will get a little better"—takes shape little by little through practice, leads to the realization of concrete things, and changes society.

When we say "public will," it might tend to be imagined as "something that is just there." However, in reality, the state of the public will changes depending on the era or the context of the moment, and the majority of the moment; if the scale or context changes, the public will changes. There is a possibility that public will 'a' becomes the majority on issue A, while public will 'b' becomes the majority on issue B. I believe that the more diversity there is in those scales—in other words, the more effort there is to create a majority for each context, and the more diverse those scales and yardsticks are—the more democratic a society can be said to be.

Perhaps if there is something superior about the political mechanism or way of thinking called democracy, it lies in the fact that there is no single correct answer, but rather it always has the power to create the correct answer for that moment in that context. If so, I think it is necessary to create places where the younger generation can experience the joy of things moving because they moved—though of course, frustration is a natural companion to that joy.

There is a quote I like by a political scientist named Robert Putnam: "The younger generation is a leading indicator of the future society." In other words, if you look at the situation young people are in now, you can see what the future society will be like.

The Japanese younger generation has a high suicide rate, partly influenced by low self-esteem. They are being pushed with various social contradictions and are gasping for breath within them. A generation like that is unlikely to think about giving back to society in the future.

Furthermore, if we are to ask for political participation, it is the responsibility of the older generation to first change the situation they are placed in. We must realize that this will lead to the creation of our future society.

When we say "public will," it is often used in the sense of how to reflect the public will in politics, but I think it is important to consider how to visualize the existence of people who have been excluded or pushed out even from that "public will," and how to reflect their opinions.

Japan is said to be a society with strong homogeneity, but I think women have existed as beings excluded from that "homogeneity" until now. In most cases, women are not allowed into the dining culture, and it is also a place where they might face sexual harassment. A relationship of trust based on homogeneity makes the exclusion of women invisible.

There are actually many people, not just women, who cannot even enter the existing homogeneous, male-centered way of deliberation. I believe it is a very important challenge whether we can have a dialogue with those heterogeneous beings and recognize them as fellow members.

In Japanese society, many people of foreign nationality live without being given local voting rights. As the number of migrants increases, the question of who constitutes the political community is raised. We already do not live in a society composed only of "sovereigns."

I believe the perspective of how far we can imagine others—including those who are not sovereigns, people of foreign nationality, and future generations who have not yet reached voting age—is important. How much can we think about the existence of those who have been excluded, and how can we as a society support those who have been silenced to raise their voices?

Whether it's the local community or the "public will" in quotes, we shouldn't think of them as default things; they are always transforming, and whether they do so depends on one's own actions. While sending such a message to society and young people, I want to be involved in that myself.

Turning our eyes to the people who fall through the cracks even as sovereigns is an important point.

Up until now, I have worked with media in a multifaceted way. What I feel from being involved not only in research but also in the design of public opinion polls, public relations and PR for governments and companies, and discussions by industry groups and ministries on how to regulate media, is that while the public will cannot be completely controlled, there are countless entities that want to intervene in or design the "public will" in quotes.

Young people need opportunities to be conscious of and learn how to decipher the political nature of those trying to intervene. This is an opportunity to look at how to distance oneself from certain conspiracy theories or historical revisionist things on the internet—in other words, the fact that there are many people with the intention to intervene in what they are seeing. Isn't this a missing aspect in Japanese society when fostering "healthy sovereigns" in quotes?

At the same time, I hope we can create an opportunity to build a foundation where we can broadly discuss within society how to foster and design the bearers of the public good with a capital P.

Thank you all for providing such wonderful and important points. I think this has been a very meaningful discussion.

Thank you very much for your time today.