Understanding Japan’s Two-Dimensional Love Phenomena
By Charlotte Teng Li Hui, Gooi Jin Wah Darren, Kum Shan Ning, Nicolette, and Michelle Phua Kah Hwee
Introduction
In Wagenaar’s model of “Wacky Orientalism”, he describes a, at times malicious, relegation of Japan to an odd spectacle while the West establishes itself as the “norm” (Wagenaar 2016, 46-52). One of the most prolific subjects of Western derision is the romantic inclination toward fictional and often two-dimensional characters that has become prevalent among a certain subset of Japanese males in recent years, a phenomenon which we label “2D love”. This is supported by Favell, a sociologist from University of Leeds who posited that the West tends to emphasize on the wacky aspects of Japanese youth’s indulgence in virtual love (McVeigh 2016).
A strong Western preference for in-person relationships leads a Western audience to conflate 2D love with a lack of choice, thus assuming that 2D love is only conceivable as a last resort. Yet, such a view displays a callous refusal to engage with the fundamental reasons necessary for understanding this phenomenon. In reality, the rise of this phenomenon can be attributed to a gradual shift away from the demands of in-person relationships, due to the increased difficulty of meeting expected gender norms for Japanese males combined with a general push by the mass media towards portraying 2D love as an effective and viable alternative. Hence, we argue that 2D love is a manifestation of the desire of some Japanese males to forge a new identity for themselves amidst gendered norms and expectations.
Click for Fig. 1: Men who engaged in 2D love are seen as “wacky” by the West. Created by Masato Seto. [c2009]. From The New York Times.
Changing socioeconomic structures of Japan’s society
Japan’s shifting economic climate has sparked changes within society, making it increasingly difficult for males to fulfil the gendered roles and expectations of masculinity that accompany in-person relationships. 2D love thus serves as an alternative romantic model that allows men to circumvent the rigid constrictions of in-person relationships and absolves them of the associated expectations of masculinity that they struggle to meet, thereby granting these men the autonomy to redefine the self.
The deep-seated Japanese framework of masculinity can be traced back to its post-war economic “miracle”. The white-collared worker, also known as the “salaryman”, was lauded as the epitome of Japanese masculine identity because of the societal perception that men were the financial providers for the family. This hegemonic cultural ideal was embodied in the gendered division of labour within the Japanese nuclear family – where men worked and women dedicated themselves to the family (Mirza 2016, 24). However, the bursting of Japan’s bubble economy in the early 1990s served as the turning point of women’s growing role in the workplace. More recently, the state has further altered the status quo by adopting “Womenomics” in 2013 as the main strategy to boost economic growth through the advancement of women in the workplace (Chanlett-Avery & Nelson 2014, 3). These efforts have led to a record number of women in the Japanese workforce, with some taking on senior positions within companies. This catalysed the repositioning of the role of women in Japanese society and by extension, their role within the family and in-person relationships.
Click for Fig. 2: The changing positions of salarymen in Japan. Created by Agence France-Presse [c2017]. From The Straits Times.
Yet, despite the liberalisation of traditional gender norms within the workplace and the shifting power dynamics between genders in Japanese society, narratives of upholding a masculine identity are still heavily perpetuated and internalised by Japanese men. The prevalence of “hegemonic masculinity” (Connell 2005, 831) is deeply entrenched within contemporary Japanese society. As women replace responsibilities within the workplace that were traditionally undertaken by men, the exclusiveness of work that formed the central premise of the male identity inevitably becomes undermined (Duus 1998, 291-311). This is compounded by a growing dimension of materialism, known as “love capitalism”, which privileges romantic relationships to only those who are economically and socially qualified (Honda 2005, 81). Unsurprisingly, these shifting gendered power relations seep into in-person romantic relationships where men begin to play more submissive roles and women take on the role of the decision maker (Lee, Tufis and Alwin 2010). The struggle for men comes when they are expected to adhere to the rigid constraints of Japanese masculinity despite changing socioeconomic circumstances. As men gradually find it harder to live up to the idealised yet unrealistic notion of masculine identity, they can begin to feel ambivalent towards in-person relationships which constantly reinforce this expectation. Thus, they may stray from these relationships altogether, subverting societal expectations and engaging in alternative forms of self-expression in the romantic context through 2D love.
The act of engaging in 2D love can be understood as a defensive response from Japanese men towards stifling societal expectations of masculinity imposed within in-person relationships. Galbraith (2019) argues that some Japanese men imagine and construct new realities through the engagement of 2D love where they can freely withdraw from the social impositions of romantic norms placed on them with minimal repercussions. The reliance on emotional relationships with 2D characters thereby becomes a safe personal space in which men can cover up their perceived lack of masculinity (Condry 2011, 262-83). Notwithstanding simply absolving themselves from women’s expectations of their masculinity, 2D love offers a new form of masculinity, whereby individuals can consume 2D character merchandise as a means to legitimise and symbolise their love for characters, directly contrasting the salarymen ideal founded upon their productivity as a worker (Condry 2011, 262-83). In this instance, individuals find new meaning to their identities through the consumption of such character merchandise which proves their dedication to their partner and consequently becomes an alternate form of affirmation of their value in society as a male. Therefore, through pursuing these alternative forms of relationship, Japanese men gain freedom to construct a reality where they subvert societal expectations and embrace the desires of the self, thereby establishing for themselves their own form of “masculine” identity.
Media’s role in popularising moe
Aside from understanding the sociocultural premise that spurred the engagement of 2D love, one must also identify the crucial role that media played in both popularising and normalising it as an alternative relationship form. The Japanese media set the scene for 2D love through the spread of moe, which generally refers to the euphoric response and attraction felt towards fictional characters (Galbraith 2009). Introduced in the 1990s, the popularity of moe was accelerated by rising consumerism in Japanese society, sparking a shift towards character-oriented media that targeted otakus (fans of anime, manga and games). Shrouded in a media environment that aimed to inspire moe responses among consumers, Japanese males who consumed these products became attuned to the unique appeal of 2D love in its offering of hitherto unattainable possibilities.
The transition of moe from the niche realms of otaku subculture to the mainstream paved the way for the rise of 2D love. This transition can be attributed to the widespread popularity of moe characters, such as Ayanami Rei from the well-known anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion (NGE), which created an environment where love for 2D characters became increasingly common and normalized. NGE advanced the moe wave to greater heights by inspiring other anime that similarly focused on fan engagement and involved characters that triggered an “affective response” from the male viewer (Galbraith 2009), which we will elaborate on in the subsequent paragraph. Recognising the immense demand for moe, profit-driven media corporations capitalised on this growing market by commodifying 2D love for the mass audience. An example would be the transformation of bishoujo dating simulation games from its semi-pornographic nature in the 1980s, into a more mainstream and melodramatic genre in the 1990s onwards (Kagami 2010, 136). By configuring the games to fit the desires of the mainstream crowd, the popularity of 2D love products skyrocketed as consumers bought into such games as manifestations of their desires (Galbraith 2019, 159). Thus, 2D mediums were successfully crafted into products with widespread appeal, which naturally fed the normalization and spread of 2D love.
The essence of this widespread appeal lay in the aforementioned “affective response”, which is moe’s ability to fill the emotional void within Japanese men who feel alienated by the stressful societal expectations imposed upon them. Described by Honda (2005, 81) as a form of “pure love”, moe elements in 2D love function as an alluring alternative to the rampant “love capitalism” and hegemonic masculinity in in-person relationships. Moe subverts societal norms by allowing males to redefine aspects of love and derive emotional satisfaction on their own terms instead of fighting an uphill battle to meet unrealistic societal ideals. The famous anime director Hayao Miyazaki illustrates this through his recreation of moe within the heroines of his works (Saito 2011, 116). By focusing on bishoujo (beautiful young girl) characters, he embeds moe elements which allow viewers to actualise fantasies unconfined by the bounds of reality (Miyazaki 2009). Additionally, the most popular female characters go beyond enticing the male gaze with pure physicality, appealing instead with intense displays of emotional devotion. Some well-known examples are characters from popular anime series, such as Asuna from Sword Art Online and Rem from RE:Zero, where their pure emotional devotion to the male protagonist have moulded them into figures of desire, garnering them a large following from Japanese men. However, such a level of emotional devotion is deemed incredibly difficult to achieve via in-person relationships due to the aforementioned socio-economic factors. This highlights the potential of 2D characters to vicariously quench the emotional desires of Japanese males left unfulfilled by reality. Thus, as Japanese media constructs fantasised notions for romantic relationships which reality cannot replicate, more Japanese males gravitate toward 2D love to realize their emotional wants.
Click for Fig. 3 Anime fan spent three million yen (36,711 SGD) on merchandise of his favourite anime character Rem. Created by @onikarem_0202[c. 2018]. From Twitter, October 8, 2018, 2:34 p.m.
Furthermore, beyond simply providing Japanese males with emotional fulfilment, these products of 2D love that offer the freedom of choice to consumers also allow Japanese males to retain a degree of agency often left unavailable to them in in-person relationships. One such product of 2D love comes in the form of dating simulation games. Taylor (2007) argues that the highlight of dating simulation games lie in the players’ ability to choose the female character and dictate the progression of the relationship. The presumably male player is able to set his own boundaries and exercise a degree of control which is often lacking within the confines of in-person relationships. This same desire for agency extends to the passive consumption of 2D love, where men instead exercise their control through their power to freely choose desired character traits. Clearly defined character tropes in mediums such as anime and manga that target males in Japan have become almost notorious for their prevalence. One of the most well-known and commonplace of these tropes is the variety of dere (lovestruck) female characters, such as tsundere (usually cold or ‘prickly’, but is lovestruck or softens in some situations), kuudere (usually cool, but similarly softens or is lovestruck in some situations), etc. This trope is often frowned upon as it has formed tropes so clearly defined that they have effectively inhibited creativity and character development. However, their continued popularity is a testament to their appeal. More than the substance of the characters themselves, it is the ability to choose from a variety of distinct characteristics that provides men with the greatest degree of agency. This agency, combined with the general notion of romantic acceptance regardless of the character’s personality or characteristics, provides a powerful affirmation of the men’s masculinity in a society of strong and independent women who often represent rejection. Therefore, the normalisation and commodification of 2D characters that embody moe concepts in the media have created a gateway for Japanese males to meet their emotional needs and regain agency, something they may not be able to achieve in real life relationships.
Conclusion
As illustrated at the beginning of the paper, the West perceives 2D love as nothing more than a wacky aspect of Japan’s culture. We attempted to provide a more nuanced perspective of 2D love by highlighting the underlying reasons behind its rise. We argue that Japan’s changing socioeconomic structure, specifically in the form of shifting gender norms, as well as the normalisation and commodification of 2D love by the media have built an atmosphere encouraging the use of 2D love as a romantic alternative. It is also important to consider the inaccuracy of viewing men’s participation in 2D love as a binary choice between fictional and in-person relationships, since the lack of one does not necessitate the other, nor are they mutually exclusive. Rather, it is a conscious choice made by the individual and hinges on their personal desire to do so. Hence, an understanding of the unique context of Japanese society that has shaped the Japanese males’ decision to participate in 2D relationships is necessary before one passes judgement.
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