单选题
Who Needs Equality?
For a few month last year, it appeared as if a new wave of feminism was sweeping Japan, raising a clamorous challenge to age-old male authority. It began when housewives, engraved by a new tax, swarmed to political rallies, urging that a "voice from the kitchen" reach the male-dominated government. Socialist Takako Doi, the first woman in Japanese history to lead a major political party, inspired an unprecedented number of women to run for the Diet"s upper house, and they grabbed a record number of seats. Prime Minister Sousuke Uno resigned in disgrace after a former geisha he had patronized broke her profession"s code of silence to denounce his as too small-minded a man to lead the country. His successor rushed to appoint two women to his Cabinet. The press seized upon the opportunity to rave about the dawning to
Onna no Jidai
(the Era of Women).
But a year later, the dawn seems to have darkened. The women Cabinet members have been replaced by men. The rallies have evaporated. Enthusiasts of
Onna no Jidai
, it seems, spoke too soon.
Though Japanese women are among the best-educated women in the world, they are, by Western standards, second-class citizens in their own country. Traditional values discourage women from appearing outspoken or independent-minded and demoralize those who try to climb the political or business hierarchies. Only one-fourth of major Japanese corporations have any women at all in the middle-management or higher ranks. In government, women constitutes less than 1% of management-level bureaucrats and about 6% of the 764
Diet
members. The average woman"s annual income amounts to only half that of a man"s. Why, then, aren"t Japanese women angry? Why aren"t they marching en masse for equality? Why didn"t they stoke the spark of
Onna no Jidai
?
The fact of the matter is that equality with men is not a particularly appealing prospect to most Japanese women right now. Educated young women, those most likely to lead a revolution, tend to see their male peers as dull corporate drones. Women, meanwhile, with comparatively freer schedules, have more to cultivate their interests.
Indeed, while a 1985 law bans sex discrimination and requires Japanese companies to offer females the same opportunities available to males, few women choose to apply for career-track jobs. Most opt to work as assistants to men. Typically, a woman will leave her job after the birth of her first child and later resume a part-time career or pursue hobbies or community work.
Being a housewife is nothing to be ashamed of in Japan. Because most husbands leave their salaries and children entirely in the hands of their wives, women have wide-ranging responsibilities. It was not always thus. Traditionally, wives and children blindly obeyed the father as ruler of the roost. But postwar economic growth toppled fathers from that lofty post by imposing longer work hours that kept them from home. At the same time, modem appliances freed women from household drudgery. "Housewives can pursue their interests in a carefree manner, while men have to worry about supporting their wives and children," says Makiko Katagiri, 32, a college-educated housewife who plays volleyball once a week and runs the PTA at her children"s nursery school.
The father"s status so declined that mental-health experts speak of a new male affliction: kitaku kyofu sho, or a "fear of returning home syndrome." A popular television commercial for an insecticide spray shows a father waking up one day to find he has turned into a cockroach. The ad warns housewives, "If you see a large cockroach, it might be your husband. Please check before you exterminate." Even men will sometimes admit that their privilege status in society has a price. "Women know how to enjoy themselves more than men do," say a mid-level executive of a major Japanese auto company. "Men are too tired. We"re all about to collapse." (
Time
, December 3, 1990)