Diversity

There were a couple of interesting articles in the July 27^th issue of Jinja Shinpō, into which I may be reading too much.

The first was the “Thoughts in the Forest” column, which was one of the pseudonymous entries. The author — whose written name might not even have a reading given that it is a pseudonym, so I will just read the first two characters as “Ueto” — apparently has non-standard colour vision. He (probably, looking at the pseudonym, and the strong hints that he has the red/green variation of colour vision) dislikes the term colour-blind, as it is not an accurate description of how he sees.

The trigger for the column was the decision by one of the biggest snack companies to start printing crisp (potato chip, for the USAnians) packets in black and silver to save on resources that are being limited by the war in the Middle East. He reported that the crisps still tasted just as good. He goes on to discuss the problems that arise from having non-standard colour vision, and points out that they are almost all created by social decisions. When dealing purely with the natural world, it is not a disadvantage. When dealing with teachers using red chalk to write on a dark green blackboard — well, then there is a problem. Similarly, if the only way to quickly distinguish two products is the colour of the packaging, then that is going to be a problem for someone. If you find it difficult to tell the flavours of crisps apart when the packets go black and white, then you can tell that there has been excessive reliance on colour. It is, he says, better for everyone if one does not rely entirely on colour to distinguish things.

This is a fairly obvious call for tolerance for diversity. What makes it very interesting is his closing paragraph, because he talks about the Japanese flag: a red disc on a white field. Even without biological variations in colour vision, everyone has different colour senses so, he suggests, maybe everyone sees the Japanese flag differently.

The other is a book review. There is nothing particularly strange about the review itself, but the book is a biography of an eighth-century figure, Koma Fukushin. Koma Fukushin was the grandson of a refugee who came to Japan from the Korean peninsula when the kingdom of Goguryeo fell. “Koma” is written with one of the sets of kanji used for the name of Goguryeo, and so clearly connects him to the continent. He served several Tennō, managing to stay in favour through violent political changes, and reached Junior Third Rank, which is extremely high. In his last years, the Tennō granted him a new name, “Takakura”, thus removing the apparent link to his foreign origin.

The only odd thing here is that Koma Fukushin appears to have had no particular connection to Shinto. There is a Koma Jinja in the area that he came from, but the review notes that the Koma venerated there is from a different family.

So why did Jinja Shinpō decide to review a book about the existence of a substantial Korean immigrant community near what is now Tokyo in the eighth century, and the very successful integration of one of its members into the heart of Japanese culture, right at the time when the foundations for that culture were being laid?

I wouldn’t want to speculate.