Earlier this year, I had the privilege of visiting Japan on a school trip, where I immersed myself in the culture through the lens of its elite class—the families who own and operate some of the largest institutions in the country. Much like the chaebols in Korea, Japan has powerful families at the top that control its largest conglomerates. While a similar dynamic exists in the U.S., it is often less publicly acknowledged or accepted. Whether this is due to secrecy or ignorance is for you to decide. Now, before I embark on one of my legendary tangents, this journey opened my eyes to the stark contrasts between Japan and the Philippines—two nations that, despite their geographical proximity, present vastly different societal landscapes shaped by their unique histories, cultures, and economic conditions.
Japan truly sets a high standard when it comes to public life. My professor pointed out how the country is a model of cleanliness and efficiency. The public transport system is so precise that if you’re even a minute late, the train has probably left without you. In Tokyo, it’s clear that people respect public spaces; the absence of trash is striking, thanks to a collective commitment to order. Even without trash bins—due to past security concerns—public areas remain surprisingly serene. The only noise often comes from my American classmates, whose lively chatter is a stark contrast to the quiet around us.
But beneath this polished surface, there’s a less visible reality: the private sphere often suffers. While the Japanese lifestyle appears harmonious, it’s quite different from what many Americans experience. Many people live in smaller, more modest homes, reflecting a genuine scarcity. The disciplined, almost robotic routines of salarymen and women make me wonder about their happiness. It’s nice to be welcomed with a bow and excellent service, but I can’t help but ask how fulfilled those who wake up before dawn really feel in their daily lives. There seems to be a childlike wonder that is often stifled by societal expectations.
On the other hand, the Philippines offers a different perspective. The public sphere is far from ideal; infrastructure is lacking, traffic is chaotic, and disorder reigns in many areas. Yet, a small percentage of the population enjoys a more privileged lifestyle. The stark income inequality is hard to miss; luxury living is just a few kilometers away from slums. Both public and private spheres face significant challenges, with many people living in conditions that would be uncomfortable by Western standards.
However, amid these struggles, I’ve noticed an incredible resilience and a strong sense of happiness among the Filipino people. In small towns and villages, smiles are everywhere, and joy often transcends material hardships. This makes me wonder: is happiness rooted more in social connections than in material wealth?
This contrast brings up deep questions about what makes a society “better.” Humans are remarkably adaptable, often thriving even in tough conditions. Our perceptions of happiness are influenced by our surroundings, leading us to ask: Is a modern, clean lifestyle inherently superior? Japan’s societal structure exemplifies efficiency and order, but it often comes at the cost of individual fulfillment. In contrast, while the Philippines faces significant challenges, the depth of human connection enriches its communities.
These observations push us to rethink what progress means and how we define well-being. Striving for an ideal that doesn’t align with diverse cultural values can lead us astray. The pursuit of modernity often involves trade-offs that complicate our understanding of happiness and fulfillment.
Ultimately, life’s essence lies beyond the divide between public and private spheres. It’s found in the connections we build and the joy we create, no matter our circumstances. The contrast between Japan and the Philippines highlights the need to redefine success in a global context.
Societal structures shouldn’t dictate our sense of fulfillment; rather, we should cultivate environments—both public and private—that promote joy and authenticity. The future hinges on our ability to bridge these worlds, creating a society that embraces both cleanliness and chaos, as well as efficiency and emotional richness. This exploration is just scratching the surface of my thoughts on the contrasts between Japan and the Philippines and will serve as a primer for the rest of my series, where I’ll delve deeper into my observations of these two countries and others I visit.