Article link: http://www.asahi.com/ajw/articles/AJ201606250036.html
When its only incineration plant was closed down in 2000 following news that it had failed to meet national dioxin emission standards, the government of Kamikatsu Town in Tokushima Prefecture, Shikoku, vowed to have its residents produce “zero waste” within the following two decades. Since then, the town has more than halved its annual waste quantities. The secrets to its waste-reducing success, it seems, include meticulous garbage sorting facilities where residents deposit their rubbish into more than 30 categorised boxes, stores selling used household items, as well as eco-friendly business practices, such as “Bring Your Own Bag” initiatives.
At first glance, the town’s current efforts to minimise its waste implies a return to the undefiled state of “onozukara” (Kalland and Asquith, 10) in nature, with residents living in such a manner that evidence of their use and pollution of their natural environment is minimised. Indeed, this article seems to strengthen popular observations of the Japanese as being “one with nature” (ibid.) in their daily living. At the same time, it is rather interesting to note the economic basis of the town’s waste reduction movement: waste minimisation, while appearing to threaten potential business profits, has also brought in new avenues for revenue in the form of eco-tourism. Certainly, Kamikatsu’s relationship with its environment and the waste it produces bears economic tones that will likely continue to influence the progress of its current movement.
Kamikatsu’s “green”-ness is thanks not only to its reduced waste footprint, but also in cultivating locals’ willingness to keep recycling efforts up. This article provides insights into the possibility of inculcating “green”-ness – in this case, minimising pollution through waste – as practice, and not merely accepting it as a value inherent to the Japanese as scholars like Watsuji Tetsurō have promulgated (Kirby 2011, 74-75). Kamikatsu’s residents are “green” not for simply appreciating “codified nature-focused activities and eco-symbols” (ibid., 69), but instead actively aiding the environment in making sacrifices in their daily habits and lifestyles. Indeed, “green”-ness in Kamikatsu is not merely an afterthought but a conscious, continued effort from the very beginnings of usage, manifesting itself not only in recycling practices but also in not “using things that require later disposal” (Fujinami 2016) to begin with.
Reading this article, it struck me that Kamikatsu’s movement towards “zero waste” is also a result of government-led directives (including guidelines on how to sort one’s rubbish) that are very much reminiscent of historical practices to regulate forest usage in Japan. Perhaps Kamikatsu’s waste reduction efforts could be said to be a part of an ongoing legacy of environmental regulation harking back to Japan’s early history. That visitors from other parts of Japan and not only from overseas flock to Kamikatsu for inspiration for their own waste regulation efforts also reminds us that the notion of Japan as a homogenously “green” nation [as Kirby’s (2011) analysis highlights] is an erroneous one. Indeed, this article is useful in helping us to consider the country’s “green”-ness as particularistic to each of its constituencies.
No. of words: 498
References:
Asquith, Pamela J., and Arne Kalland. 1997. Japanese Images of Nature: Cultural Perspectives. Richmond, UK: Curzon.
Fujinami, Yu. 2016. “IMPACT JOURNALISM DAY: Shikoku town basks in limelight as it moves toward zero-waste target.” The Asahi Shimbun, Asia & Japan Watch. Accessed August 26, 2016. http://www.asahi.com/ajw/articles/AJ201606250036.html.
Kirby, Peter Wynn. 2011. Troubled Natures: Waste, Environment, Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.
This is a story about the same town as in another post: Kamikatsu. However, you take a different approach, namely that the number of people visiting Kamikatsu signifies that its practices and beliefs toward waste, consumption, and recycling are not natural, but something that must be learned over time. This is a very important point that cannot be emphasized enough. As we will see soon, the same can be said of waste-related practices in Minamata, which have been strongly influenced by its disastrous and tragic past and a conscious desire to never repeat that tragedy, not some inherent “love of nature,” a notion that Totman so convincingly problematizes in his varied work.