“Make Japan Great Again” #7_Conclusion
A Philanthropic Scholarship Program and Transnational Youths’ Yaritaikoto for “Social Good”
This is an excerpt from my 81-page anthropology thesis titled “‘Make Japan Great Again’: An Emerging Class of Transnational Youths and Their Yaritaikoto for ‘Social Good’.”
<Table of Contents>
- Abstract
- “What Do You Want to Do for ‘Social Good’?” (Introduction)
- Collaborative Methodology (Research Methods)
- Brief History of Japanese Political Economy (Historical Background)
- The Extremely Vague Approach to “Social Good” (Data Analysis #1)
- The Disparity between the Foundation and Scholars (Data Analysis #2)
- “What is Your Version of ‘Social Good’?” (Conclusion)
- Recommendations to the Yanai Community (Appendix)
- Bibliography
7. “What Is Your Version of ‘Social Good’?”
“I find myself becoming more pragmatic since I graduated from college,” explained Devin, reflecting on his first year in consulting. He acknowledged that seemingly greedy business operations often stem from inescapable structural constraints that a single organization cannot combat. In response to his concern about declining hope for change, Devin now channels his energy into manageable-scale issues: “The grand narratives of ‘social contribution’ often come with way too many structural constraints, which discourage you from trying anything. But focusing on a specific problem within a specific community might empower you to fix it yourself.”
Like Devin, I felt empowered to initiate this public anthropology project in order to make a small difference within the Yanai scholarship community and Japan’s study-abroad community more broadly. As a Yanai scholar, who is extremely privileged yet pathetically uninfluential, I was desperate to learn how to do “social good.” The more I dug into my scholarship program, however, the more unclear I became confused about the concept, because the Yanai Foundation expected each scholar to independently discern what “social good” means and how to achieve it. Both the administrators and scholars repeated during the interview: “people shouldn’t even think about contributing to society; instead, just follow their yaritaikoto (that does not merely derive from selfish ends).” Under their logic, as long as I do “something for someone to some degree at some point in my life,” I will satisfy the Foundation’s expectation to “help develop Japanese society.” For a few months after data collection, I was completely stuck.
Meanwhile, I learned about several incidents outside of my research, through which the preconceived notions I held regarding “social good” seemed completely shattered. As an aspiring anthropologist, I was profoundly distressed by academic harassment cases involving Harvard anthropologist John Comaroff (Cho & Kim 2022) and NYU emeritus anthropologist Arjun Appadurai (Chakravartty 2022). Their scandals taught me that one can positively contribute to society through one’s profession, while abusing some individuals behind the scenes. A few days after hearing such heart-breaking news, a female activist professor of color at my college, from whom I have learned by far the most, resigned from her tenure-track position. In her public resignation letter, she bravely shared her health-damaging experiences with targeted digital harassment led by white supremacist organizations as well as the administration’s inaction against documented cases of systemic discrimination. Her incredible endurance with such a toxic work environment reminded me of Yanai scholars’ claim that one must prioritize one’s own basic well-being in order to help others.
While I was making nearly no progress in my research, a few friends of mine and I organized a 400-person teach-in and protest against organized digital harassment in US higher education. Did we accomplish any policy change? — No, but I believe our effort contributed enough “social good” to the campus community by showing our whole-hearted support for minoritized students, faculty, and staff. Was this activist endeavor rewarding? — Yes. Was it a pleasant experience that I would repeat just for fun? — Absolutely not. Was it nevertheless factoring into my own yaritaikoto? — I think so. These personal reflections made me doubt the idea that following what you love automatically serves as “social good.”
This activist initiative reminded me of my interviews with several Yanai scholars who have managed to combine their yaritaikoto and “social good” — they all had three things in common. First and foremost, those students have directly experienced, or met people who have experienced, the very issue(s) they strive to address. In my case, the formative experience (原体験) was my favorite professor’s resignation. Second, the “altruistic” scholars held a healthy degree of pessimism: their individual accomplishments will only contribute a tiny fraction to systemic “social good,” which they know they might not be able to witness soon or even in their lifetime. Knowing that the administration would initiate little to no tangible change, I still organized the teach-in and rally because I believed even the smallest steps gradually make a meaningful difference. Finally, “social-good-oriented” students characterized their yaritaikoto as “things for which they are willing to endure any negative feelings during the ever-lasting period of trial and error.” None of these scholars described pursuing yaritaikoto as “simply doing what you love.” Similarly, I found my activist experience draining, frightening, and definitely not lucrative, yet in a quite fulfilling way.
Taking a break from research to commit to on-campus activism made me rethink for whom and how I want to make society better. At least for me, “social good” certainly never means elite kids doing whatever they like with their $380,000 scholarship and other non-economic forms of privilege. Instead, I define it as critically choosing everyday actions toward systemic alleviation of inequity as far as possible and practicable. As the aforementioned professor has taught me, I believe that “no work [of mine] is worth anything if it does not push us to challenge the patriarchal and racist systemics that continue to oppress all of us” (as cited in Shankar 2020a). My version of “social good” does not suddenly occur somewhere, sometime: instead, it starts right here, right now.
Through my thesis project, I never intended to preach how others should define and practice “social good.” However, I at least hoped to prompt critical reflections for my readers. My findings demonstrate the vast gap between the Yanai Foundation’s publicly stated mission of “social good” and its scholars’ structural struggles to discover and pursue their “altruistic yaritaikoto.” Despite such a discrepancy, the Foundations has no intention of intervening in scholars’ individual choices to — or not to — engage with “social good.” Therefore, it is absolutely up to each one of Yanai scholars to utilize or waste the given resources. Given countless modes of “social bad” in our society, I believe that we can find countless ways of undoing injustices, some of which may involve policy change while others emotionally support individuals. These approaches do not need to be mutually exclusive, but it is important to recognize for whom and why we practice what we think is “social good.” Before I began this research, I asked my fellow Yanai scholar: “What do you want to do after college?” Now, I conclude this year-long thesis by asking: “What will you do for your own version of ‘social good’?”
