Misunderstandings can create both obstacles and insulation
The first-person pronoun I is a basic starting point: ego, je, ich, io, ya. In Japanese, where nothing is that simple, the word has two dozen or more forms, depending on who is talking, and to whom, and the social relationship between them. An elderly man might refer to himself as washi, but his wife would say watashi, or, for that matter, atakushi, or atashi; their daughter might say atai and their son boku. Then there is temae, which means both you and I. But the Japanese often evade these social difficulties by dropping all pronouns entirely.
The "devil's language" is the description generally attributed to St. Francis Xavier, the 16th century Jesuit missionary. Others have seen in the intricacies of the language a major influence on Japan's intellectual and artistic styles, even on its basic national character. Yet sympathetic observers also believe that the language may represent a serious obstacle to Japan's functioning as a world power. According to former U.S. Ambassador Edwin O. Reischauer, "Japanese ideas are transmitted abroad only very weakly and through the filter of a few foreign 'experts'. .. Japanese intellectual life for the most part goes on behind a language barrier."
To cross that barrier, translators and interpreters are more necessary but less effective, since the Japanese language not only is difficult in itself but represents a quite different concept of speech. Anthropologist Masao Kunihiro notes: "English is intended strictly for communication. Japanese is primarily interested in feeling out the other person's mood." Misunderstandings are a constant hazard. At one top-level conference, for example, President Nixon asked for a cut in Japanese textile exports, and Prime Minister Sato answered, "Zensho shimasu," which was translated literally as "I'll handle it as well as I can." Nixon thought that meant "I'll take care of it," but the Japanese understood it to mean something like "Let's talk about something else."
Over the centuries the Japanese have adopted many Chinese words, though the two languages remained entirely separate. Nor was Chinese the only foreign element. Portuguese missionaries later introduced pan (bread), and Dutch traders biiru (beer). Then came the tidal wave of English. Some of these Japanized words filled a practical need (takushi, taxi, or rajio, radio), while some were primarily fashionable (kohi-shoppu, coffee shop).
Despite the absorption of foreign words, however, the Japanese language developed in a society that was hierarchical and isolated, that avoided controversy and valued subtlety. Even today the language still requires sharp differentiations—different vocabularies, different verb endings—among various levels of polite speech and familiar speech. Some believe that the language is inherently and purposely vague, while others see something more subtle. "Japanese can be made vague," says Paul Anderer, who teaches Japanese literature at Columbia University, "but the language is extraordinarily precise in determining who you are as you speak to someone else about what it is that you or that other person needs."