Shushin, spirit and internationally envied success
Americans, impressed first by the quality of Japanese cameras, then TV sets, then cars and stereo equipment, are now beginning to hear about another top-quality product: the education system that has produced so much success. Amidst cries in the U.S. of "back to basics" and "on to excellence," the rigorous pace and pressure of Japan's schools, the required curriculum and the unquestioned authority of teacher over pupil all possess an appeal for Americans who have heard some thing of how Japanese education works and who remember some-thing of how U.S. education used to. But the patterns and goals of an educational system do not transfer as easily as a Walkman.
U.S. educators can study Japan profitably, but not if the intent is merely to replicate.
Japan learned that lesson, in reverse, not once but twice. After the Meiji Restoration, the new imperial government sent study missions to the U.S., France and Prussia, then tried to set up a national education system based on Western liberal utilitarian thought. The experiment was short-lived. Much the same thing happened after the U.S. occupation. The American-imposed structure of grade school, junior high and high school was retained, along with coeducation and compulsory attendance until age 15. But many of the other U.S.
reforms were soon discarded.
One telling point of conflict in the postwar years was the notion of shushin (moral education), which was at the center of the traditional curriculum and taught the value of filial piety, loyalty, nationalism and, above all, fealty to the Emperor. The American overseers saw shushin as part of the country's problem and banned it. In 1957, five years after the occupation ended, shushin was restored, minus its ultranationalist trappings and with the new name of dotoku. Again the aim was to instruct youngsters in the importance of respect for the common good. In a sense, it is what makes Japan's education system truly Japanese.
The cornerstone of the system, though, is the influence of Confucius, the 6th century B.C. Chinese philosopher, who taught that success in academic life is the measure of an individual and reflects the honoring of mutual moral obligations. Exalting the role of the teacher, he believed that learning should be unceasing and tested with frequent examinations. Japan today lives up to that academic ideal.
From kindergarten onward, students are off on a marathon of constant learning that takes them over a series of examination hurdles, the last of which determines admission to college and in effect a career. Individuals are driven, but academic achievement is a group endeavor. Everyone is expected to learn, and everybody does. "The teacher works to elevate the level of achievement of the class as a whole," explains Rutgers Education Professor Nobuo Shimahara. The Japanese make no effort to single out slow or gifted pupils for special classes. Nor are inadequate students held back; the shame is thought to be too great. But comprehensive exams given at the sixth, ninth and twelfth grades track the best scorers to the best schools.