The Project
A month ago we had the kick-off meeting for the start of the project. Everything went well, (not everything actually, but it was a success overall) and it was also yet another interesting cultural experience.
The kick-off started at 3 o’clock. The conference room was set up with three huge presentation screens on which the slides from each speaker were presented; 2 were Japanese, 1 was in English. (But the English was generated by translation software and although most of the words are indeed English, they do not really make much sense when read together. An occassional sentence made sense and would allow one to infer the meaning, but then the next sentence would be complete gibberish and made you wonder whether the sentence you had just so painstakingly deciphered actually meant what you thought it did.) All the (important) people that have been associated with the creation of this mad project spoke in succession, for 10-15 minutes each in strict order of seniority.
What was striking to me was that the Japanese speakers (from what I could make out from a tiny bits that I received in translation) were not afraid to talk about the trouble in their organization. Frankly after their long list of complaints I was wondering how we are ever going to achieve our goal; the situation they sketched was pretty hopeless. The manager of the research laboratory--with which we are jointly conducting this project--went through a list of their failed research strategies; first they built AI systems, then Neural Networks, then fuzzy logic and how they were expecting a lot from our ethnographic approach (one could wonder whether after such a long list of failings, there was any reason to believe them, of course).
The contrast with our presentations (there were only two) was stark; the presentation by our lab manager was long list of marvelous successes and brilliant achievements (Of course, our organization has had a similar list of failures (committed as it was to the failing enterprise of AI), but we have always found a way to spin our research and projects into success stories no matter what their actual achievements were. Indeed, talking our work into innovative successes is arguably our core competence). In some regards, the contrast was quite natural, as they had to explain hiring outside hands and we needed to present ourselves as best we could for some of the actual workers we are hoping to work with, but the contrast was so dramatic that I wondered whether were sounding bombastic beyond measure, confirming their stereotypes of Americans and instilling cynicism.
After the presentations we took a group picture (all the Japanese straightbacked, hands to the side or neatly folded in front of them, weight balanced evenly on both feet; our team one leg in front of the other and mostly at least one hand in our pockets) and then there was a banquet, with beer and wonderful snacks. There were more speeches at the banquet, but now much more informal. The leaders of both organization made a quick speech at the start, which had been planned. But then, quite to our surprise, all the project members had to make a little speech and talk about themselves. The Japanese started, so we could get a model. Their posture, hands folded in front, head slightly bowed. The content of their speeches invariably modest and self-effacing—the researchers admitting that they were the ones who made the unusable software—ending every speech with a beautifully executed bow while saying ‘yoroshiku onegai shimasu’ (Literally: ‘Please be nice to me’).
Then the Americans. Most, modelled their speeches somewhat after the Japanese, although not their stance; most with their hands in their pocket. However, not everybody decided to follow the Japanese model; when one of our managers was asked to introduce himself he started off by saying that he received his PhD from MIT, but that aside from his degree he had obtained the attitude that anybody who needed more than 15 seconds to explain him/herself was simply wrong. After that modest statement he paused and made a gesture for our Japanese colleague to translate. Now this was, I think, an odd way to open a speech in any event, but for Americans it was clear that his statement was a set-up, that it was a prelude to some punchline. However, by gesturing to the translator he made it seem like it was some kind of self-contained story. Our Japanese colleague faced with the awkward job of translating this statement simply could not find a way and called on our other Japanese colleague to help out. She did with great difficulty laughing a lot and bent over at the waist. She then asked him you mean 50 seconds? He replied with a satisfied laugh “No, fifteen”. She exclaimed: “Oh that is really short!” Her translation was met with some chuckles, but most of them just turned to each other in surprise. He went on to say that his experience with social scientists had taught him that the world was not as simple as he thought after graduation, but I am not sure the two parts of the story were connected on the other side of the translation.
There was also a great difference between our respective meeting behavior. On the whole, Japanese business people sit rather straight in their chairs (personally I wonder whether sleeping on a futon may have something to do with this, whether over the years of sleeping on these instruments of torture the back’s natural curve is slowly molded into a futon curve), and rarely, if ever, cross their legs (and if they do, they never ever put the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other). In our organization such rules do not exist (when I interviewed, the leader of the organization put his sox on the table right in front of me and told me had had not time to read my CV, could I please tell me something about myself); the only conduct that counts is your intellectual contribution; whether you deliver your contributions to the meeting while lounging with your feet on the table in your shorts and t-shirt is entirely irrelevant (which is why I think it is such a magnificent place to work, but then our lab is in California, not Tokyo). We had all been to training and the proper seating positions had been demonstrated by our Japanese teacher, however, habits are hard to break and when I looked at some of the pictures of the meeting there was a striking difference between our side of the conference table and theirs. Our manager had rolled back his chair from the table and was sitting/lying in near horizontal position bottom with his hands behind his head, he was sitting right next to our Japanese colleague, sitting perfectly straight. Next in line was the manager’s assistant, also quite elongated, but in a sideways position, head resting on her right hand; next to her our other Japanese colleague, seat rolled to the table, perfectly straight-backed. It was a hilarious sight, really, but one wonders just what kind of impression we are making.
Lukas has the following opinion about his teacher: “She is nice, she is intelligent and she is a good ruler”
9:54:03 PM 
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