Discussions That Don't Heat Up | Ken Kawazoe (Dean of the Faculty of Policy Management)

2014.08.08

You use your smartphone to tell a friend walking 10 meters ahead, "I'm right behind you." Meetups and reservations can be updated in real time. People are constantly aware of their peers on Twitter, sometimes even hoping for a flame war to erupt. While this makes it an interesting era for exploring the relationship between the evolution of tools and changes in communication, I sense a danger that goes beyond a mere shift in how we communicate.

Just the other day, an inappropriate remark by a member of the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly became a hot topic on Twitter, with the mass media subsequently picking up the story. The power of Twitter was evident in the positive outcome, as the assembly member involved ended up apologizing. But why didn't the speaker immediately put a stop to the remark? Why didn't the media, who are always present at the assembly, report on the issue right away? I sense a certain decline in function behind all this.

We are being forced to make judgments on issues that will greatly affect Japan's future, such as nuclear power administration and the right to collective self-defense. What is unfortunate is that we rarely see the kind of heated debates where people argue passionately. Is it acceptable for historic political decisions to be made through such a process? I would hope to see some "heated classroom" discussions from our professors. If these issues had arisen during my student days, there would have been rows of 'tatekan' (standing signboards), demonstrations, and boycotts of classes and exams, escalating into the Zenkyoto (All-Campus Joint Struggle Committee) movement. As a science student at the time, I viewed it all with a bit of detachment, but I still felt they were putting up a good fight. But what about now? There is a complete lack of engagement.

Now, to return to my original point, the danger I mentioned at the beginning is this apathy. This is not limited to students; it is the existence of a large, indifferent segment of the population. The student movements of the past were truly about putting oneself on the line. They physically went out to get information and physically put themselves out there to make their arguments. They engaged in passionate debate. Then the mass media would report on it, and we would be glued to our newspapers and televisions. But things are different now. With the evolution of tools, incidents are instantly streamed as videos, and a multitude of comments are aggregated. The internet is flooded with information, and if you get slammed on Twitter, it's all over. We live in an age where the outcome can be predicted before any passionate debate even begins. Conversely, one might be tempted to use this information as the will of the people. This may seem clever at first glance, but it puts the cart before the horse. Aggregating public opinion can be done by machines; our mission is to debate without fear. What I fear most is not just the change in communication, but the decline of this function—the function of debate. Among those who avoid debate and become indifferent, there may be some who see the lively discussions online and on Twitter and feel no particular need to participate. Or perhaps they feel a sense of security in a world where so much data is analyzed and information is disclosed. However, all of it can be intentionally manipulated. Unless we think for ourselves and assert our own opinions, the very meaning of our individual existence is in jeopardy.

I would not want to live in a world where what is popular is considered great and what is useful is considered good. In that sense, perhaps SFC, where a mathematician serves as dean, is in a healthy state.

(Date of publication: 2014/08/08)