Branding Japan: cool is not enough

Capturing the essence of a nation is the challenge for governments aiming to market their countries’ strengths. Christopher Graves argues that Japan’s effort to brand itself as ‘cool’ is shallow and faddy and misses the deeper and more spiritual aspect of Japanese culture summed up as ‘devotion to mastery’

In 1856, Felix Bracquemond, a Parisian engraver, print maker and ceramicist, received a package of ceramics from Japan. Bracquemond Modern unites Japanese culture, design and aesthetics with advanced technology, bringing traditional values to enrichment of contemporary living.” Backed by METI, Japonesque curated a collection of 116 objects it felt embodied this spirit, ranging from the Lexus hybrid and artificial blood vessels to the Kadokeshi eraser and the Saika bonsai. Deep in the DNA of these disparate objects, Fukuwaka said, was a “devotion to mastery”. He defined this term as “Japan’s cultivation of superior technical skills by learning traditions, techniques and ideas from others that have been passed down in society”.

This idea is beginning to resonate. A new tourism niche, call ‘creative tourism’, is emerging around the concept of people longing to master a new skill, such as wood-working, cooking or art. The idea seems to fit the needs of babyboomers, the first of whom will reach 65 this year and start to unleash some of their $2 trillion in accumulated wealth. They tell marketers that they want to travel and learn a new skill or hobby. Creative tourism hits the mark. Meanwhile, behavioural research indicates that self-improvement and the urge to master a craft or skill is a basic human desire (‘mastery motivation’ theory). People build satisfaction and reward through becoming more expert at something and in turn are acknowledged for that expertise.

According to Dan Pink, author of Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us, people are only truly moved by three intrinsic elements: autonomy, purpose and mastery – the latter being defined as getting better and better at something that matters. Japan’s history, culture and DNA is built on this ‘devotion to mastery’ in all things, from crafts to theatre and food to factories. Slapdash just doesn’t cut it in Japan. Even the humble bowl of noodles is a masterpiece of detail. And this is, of course, true of industry as well. Canon, for example, anoints skilled printer-assembly workers ‘meisters’, and those who learn all 600 processes to assemble a printer are ‘super meisters’.

Devotion to mastery could become the unifying thread that weaves pop culture and tradition into a distinctive national brand, and then to market this as a learning experience to others under the umbrella of creative tourism. Some private-sector examples provide useful templates of how to approach was immediately stirred, legend has it, by the flat, bold style of the images on the paper used to protect the ceramics. He showed these woodblock prints to his artist friends, including Manet, Degas and Whistler, who swiftly began incorporating Japanese motifs in their work. The Western love affair with Japan had begun. A century and a half later, young Americans are flocking to Japanese-sounding conventions like Ohayocon in Columbus, Ohio and Sogencon in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. They hand-craft costumes of the characters they adore from Japanese anime (animated cartoon films).

This dressing-up and role-playing is called ‘cosplay’, short for ‘costume play’, and has launched a global subculture. There are countless Facebook groups and websites. There is a Cosplay in America coffee table book. There are pilgrimages to famous anime sites. It all feels a bit like a mania. This wave of fantasy is out of sync with Japan. Even before the March 2011 earthquake and its aftermath, the society was struggling – not only with aging but with the emergence of a significant number of young people who are unmotivated and unemployed, known as ‘Freetas’ (freelance part-time workers) and ‘Neets’ (not in education, employment or training).

The Heated Debate Over Cool

Amidst this angst and ennui, the government of Japan has launched an initiative called ‘Cool Japan’. The last nation to associate itself with ‘cool’ was the UK. Shortly after Tony Blair’s Labour government took power in 1997, it linked itself to the term, to widespread derision. It’s important to remember, though,that foreigners introduced the notion of ‘cool Britannia’ to describe the Britpop cultural wave – not the Brits themselves and certainly not the government. The US ice cream brand Ben & Jerry’s, known for its humorous fusions of pop culture and parody, launched a contest in 1996 to name a new flavour that would embody the hipness of British fashion, art and pop music. ‘Cool Britannia’ won.

Newsweek followed with a cover story headed ‘London Rules… Inside the world’s coolest city’ and Vanity Fair proclaimed: ‘London Swings Again!’ Britain was, indeed, downright cool. So when the Blair government tried to co-opt the idea, it was surfing a spontaneous wave. In the end, though, cool is evanescent, and Britain lost it. Cool Britannia became a joke. The story is a classic example of how governments and tourism boards struggle with how to present their countries to the world – how, in effect, to brand them. Cool Britannia is worth remembering in particular because now Japan is betting on cool.

The government is touting ‘Cool Japan’ as a strategy of economic rebirth. The Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry (METI) has even set up a special division, called ‘Cool Japan’, to boost the country’s pop-culture power. METI wants to nearly quadruple global pop culture sales to $200 billion by 2020. That’s a lot of cool. But, as any teenager will tell you, one cannot pronounce oneself cool. A government agency like METI laying claim to the title risks all the awkwardness of a middle-aged father trying too hard to win the acceptance of his teenage daughter’s friends by mangling their slang (see www. whenparentstext.com).

Then there is the issue of just what ‘cool’ means. The Japan television show Cool Japan asked foreigners new to Japan what they found coolest. Their top answer: high-tech toilets. That’s probably not what METI had in mind. There are two key questions around the idea. First, can Japan build an entire industrial policy based on ‘cool’? And second, can the country revive its dynamism through creative content and ideas – especially content around fantasy and virtual worlds? Roland Kelts, author and Japan pop culture commentator, puts it this way in his book Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the US: “Anime is seeking to answer what may be the most critical question for Japan in the new century: can its ideas be exported without the gadgetry to go with them? Is Japanese thought exportable on its own?” Countries have long tried to exercise ‘soft power’ by linking their brand image and influence to pop culture exports.

Korea has had its Hallyu and K-wave of TV soap operas and pop singers. Japan has a whole host of ‘J’ words, including J-Pop, J-Rock, and J-Cool. It all adds up to J-Cult, short for Japan culture. For nation branding to be effective, the pop culture needs to do more than enlist foreigners into songs, fashion or even cosplay. It needs to make people think of, understand, seek out and love the country of origin. The problem with the export of anime and manga (Japan’s distinctive book-length comics) is that they may be loved simply for what they are, rather than enlightening anyone about Japan. Indeed, many countries now have their own versions of manga. There may be some indistinct sense on the part of anime or manga fans that the art form comes from Japan, but they seem to like the style regardless of who creates it. The Japan connection has been lost. In an August 2010 report, 100 Actions to Launch Japan’s New Growth Strategy, government officials touched on this issue. Japan’s anime, fashion and safe foods are so popular in overseas markets that these industries have the potential of expanding their business globally. However, the popularity of Japanese culture overseas has not necessarily led to business.

While the subculture of otaku – serious, even obsessive fans of anime, manga and videogames – may catch fire, that does not necessarily translate into an effective industrial policy. There is, for example, the matter of timing. The government is pushing the idea of an otaku export economy as sales of anime and manga, both in Japan and globally, have been declining for years (in part due to piracy). Cosplay conventions draw the believers, just as Star Trek conventions do – but Star Trek was never the core of American nation branding. So while anime gatherings nearly always have some tie-in to Japan, the connection is tenuous. This lack of a strong tie between the export and the country is what Waseda University professor Koichi Iwabuchi calls “culturally odourless” – meaning that the export erases its telltale country-of-origin smell. He wonders whether Western fans of Japanese pop culture admire an “animated, raceless, and culture-less, virtual version of ‘Japan’”.

The American fans swarming into anime conventions are imagining a Japan of their own, rather than one whose present is grounded in thousands of years of tradition. If anything, for them, Japan stands for escapism and fantasy. It is a land where men pay to have a virtual girlfriend on their phone (Love Plus dating simulation) and can even check into a hotel catering to virtual relationships. If Japan truly exports its wide array of anime and manga, foreign fans will discover the range from kawaii (super cute) to hentai (porno) interlaced with violence and dark, apocalyptic visions. Real manga is not all childlike and this could cause an uproar in countries like the US, where people are likely to be outraged by scenes of rape or sex with an octopus. Such imagery has just caused huge controversy in Tokyo, where the mayor has shepherded in new antiobscenity laws. That’s hardly a solid footing for a national brand.

One alternative to an otaku-centred brand strategy is to link Japan’s age-old traditions – the Zen rock gardens, bonsai, the tea ceremony and so on – to a more contemporary image of the nation. However, the dialectic of modern and traditional has become a cliché in nation branding. Is there any place that is not a ‘land of contrasts’? Think of travel and tourism photos of a Kyodo geisha trainee with a mobile phone, for example. The Japan pavilion at the 2010 Shanghai Expo tried to pull off the pairing of tradition and high-tech, but it came across as muddled. The official positioning statement of the National Tourism Organisation is “Japan: endless discovery”, but it is a traditional sense of discovery that appears to be on offer.

As wealthy tourists age, they crave a new form of self-mastery that implies inner discovery as well.

Mastering a New Brand

Is there a unifying idea that could pull together these widely diverging – and entirely authentic – aspects of Japaneseness? Or must Japan brand itself completely differently when talking to different audiences? Is there, in short, a brand strategy that can successfully boast of great-granddad and today’s teenagers in the same breath? I think there is. Consider this insight from Fukukawa Shinji, the chair of the Japonesque Modern Committee – a public-private initiative launched in 2006 to promote the Japan brand. Explaining the committee in 2008, Fukuwaka said: “Much more than a new Japanese brand of ‘cool’, Japonesque Modern unites Japanese culture, design and aesthetics with advanced technology, bringing traditional values to enrichment of contemporary living.”

Backed by METI, Japonesque curated a collection of 116 objects it felt embodied this spirit, ranging from the Lexus hybrid and artificial blood vessels to the Kadokeshi eraser and the Saika bonsai. Deep in the DNA of these disparate objects, Fukuwaka said, was a “devotion to mastery”. He defined this term as “Japan’s cultivation of superior technical skills by learning traditions, techniques and ideas from others that have been passed down in society”. This idea is beginning to resonate. A new tourism niche, call ‘creative tourism’, is emerging around the concept of people longing to master a new skill, such as wood-working, cooking or art. The idea seems to fit the needs of babyboomers, the first of whom will reach 65 this year and start to unleash some of their $2 trillion in accumulated wealth. They tell marketers that they want to travel and learn a new skill or hobby. Creative tourism hits the mark. Meanwhile, behavioural research indicates that self-improvement and the urge to master a craft or skill is a basic human desire (‘mastery motivation’ theory). People build satisfaction and reward through becoming more expert at something and in turn are acknowledged for that expertise.

According to Dan Pink, author of Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us, people are only truly moved by three intrinsic elements: autonomy, purpose and mastery – the latter being defined as getting better and better at something that matters. Japan’s history, culture and DNA is built on this ‘devotion to mastery’ in all things, from crafts to theatre and food to factories. Slapdash just doesn’t cut it in Japan. Even the humble bowl of noodles is a masterpiece of detail. And this is, of course, true of industry as well. Canon, for example, anoints skilled printer-assembly workers ‘meisters’, and those who learn all 600 processes to assemble a printer are ‘super meisters’. Devotion to mastery could become the unifying thread that weaves pop culture and tradition into a distinctive national brand, and then to market this as a learning experience to others under the umbrella of creative tourism.

Some private-sector examples provide useful templates of how to approach consumers through their passions. For example, the Genius Bars in Apple stores feature software and hardware masters who, for no charge, improve your computing experience while making you more of an expert. Nike and Adidas have created services around running biodata – a mashup of songs, data, training advice and community support. When Ford wanted to enter conversations in social media, it moved beyond the direct and literal (for example, car-buyer forums) to communities centred around other interests, such as the environment, design, parenting and personal finance. Ford listens to what is important to each community and shares information that interests them. In a similar fashion, Unilever (owner of health and beauty brands such as Lux, Ponds and Dove) enters gently into online conversations around travel, fitness, wellness, cooking and parenting, rather than only targeting beauty product sites.

The analogy to Japan is that these companies are building a reputation and a strategy for more than their products – they are creating value on the basis of processes, expertise and community. In the same way, Japan must do more than pique people’s curiosity. It must connect them to the craft they wish to master. Creative tourism requires creating real avenues of learning. To do this, Japan needs to leverage social media and community building. Wherever online communities long to learn and improve themselves through mastery, Japan needs to enter the conversation. This means more than traditional demographic targeting or segmentation. It means entering online communities, these tribes of mind, through their own passions and linking those passions back to Japan. Thus, Japan may try to enter the community of hobbyist and serious woodworkers, for example, by linking them to traditional Japanese woodworking design. For gardeners, ikebana and bonsai. For foodies, the art of ramen, sushi and preparation. For anime and manga lovers, film and drawing workshops and programmes. Japan can bring an inner satisfaction for those yearning to begin to master something they love, longing to become better versions of themselves.

The style, sincerity and tone makes all the difference. Entering online communities to engage in conversation on others’ turf is not the same as running your own website. Japan already manages websites such as the very comprehensive Japan National Tourism Organisation, and Visit Japan 2011. But leveraging social media effectively means going further to enable online communities and create content seen as clever enough, useful enough and cool enough to be passed along. It is this grass-roots passion that builds momentum. Even when companies create their own sites (a good example is www.thefordstory.com), they need to stimulate their fans into telling their own stories and creating their own content.

Strong bonds connect communities of passionate devotees, whether bonsai amateurs or manga otakus. Social media lends itself to the creation and nurturing of these communities as the students of the craft find and begin to talk to each other within the tightly framed subculture and argot. The goal, then, should be to combine two powerful ideas:

• Japan as devoted to mastery, tapping into the intrinsic desire for self-improvement
• Linking private passions and communities of interest within social media back to Japan. In a sense, then, Japan can create a new and profitable global brand for itself by tapping into that most enduring human desire – the drive for individual selfdiscovery. And in that sense, it is truly an ‘endless discovery’.

This article is extracted from the chapter ‘Cool is Not Enough’ in Reimagining Japan: The Quest for a Future That Works, published by McKinsey (2011) and was the Grand Prix winner in the 2012 Atticus Awards.

Christopher Graves is global chief executive of Ogilvy Public Relations Worldwide [email protected]