The “Common Sense” Fabricated by the Mass Media Is Not the Truth — Japan’s Illness Seen Through Contrast with a Southeast Asian Friend;
Japan’s media claim that deflation stems from “a mature society with nothing left to buy.” This is a lie.
Through encounters with a wealthy Chinese Singaporean entrepreneur, the essay contrasts nations where wealth circulates with those where it is hoarded.
It argues that Japan’s lost economic vitality lies in bureaucratic missteps and the authoritarian self-righteousness of its mass media.
2010 Media Theory: Why Has Japan’s Economy Stagnated? The Truth About Poverty and How the Wealthy Spend;
From the author’s perspective in 2010, this commentary offers a critical look at Japan’s economic stagnation and the “lies of common sense.” Through an exchange with a successful Singaporean businessman, the author highlights the difference between a society where the wealthy actively consume and invest and one where wealth is simply hoarded. The piece argues that the false common sense created by the media—that “deflation is inevitable” and “total volume control is for the public good”—has sapped Japan’s vitality.

The “Common Sense” Fabricated by the Mass Media Is Not the Truth. July 20, 2010.
The so-called “common sense” created by the mass media is not the truth.
They say Japan has become a mature society, that there is nothing left to buy, and therefore deflation is inevitable. Likewise, they say the declining birthrate and aging population are unavoidable. But all of these are nothing more than lies masquerading as common sense.

In a country where one out of seven people — many of them young — live in poverty, who can afford to marry and raise children?
The claim that “there is nothing to buy” is patently false.
Especially in the world of fashion, every year, every season, there are countless items people want. I would like to meet the person who can stand in the clothing section of a department store and say, “There is nothing I want.”
The truth is simple: people do not buy because they have no money.

Unlike the greed that dominates the stock market, which is the backbone of capitalism, there exists a good kind of desire — and human beings naturally possess it.

Long ago, a client of my company always used to say, “When I speak with you, I’m reminded of a Singaporean Chinese acquaintance of mine, a man your age. He started with a small factory at nineteen, and today he is listed among the fifty excellent companies in Singapore. I must introduce you.”

That was how I met him, and since our first encounter in Singapore we became very close. At the time, he was in the middle of building a new residence costing 4.5 billion yen. I was invited three times, from the design stage through to completion. The parking space was for seventeen cars. I assumed it was for guests — ministers and such — when he hosted parties in that mansion. But it was not. It was for his own cars, necessary stress relief for a man active across the world.

He once put me in the passenger seat of a Ferrari worth over 100 million yen — one of only two in all of Singapore. In that instant, I understood his feelings. The exquisitely smooth, almost sensual engine sound, the speed that instantly erased the stresses of business — I grasped his inner world in that moment. Then he turned to me and said, “Mr. Kisara, perhaps I’ve spent too much on cars…”

Later, the acquaintance who introduced us reported to me: that mansion was given to his eldest son, and he himself had built an even greater mansion to live in. No surprise — he is one of Southeast Asia’s shining stars, surely still buying more cars.

When I first knew him, he was also a major shareholder in two large beverage companies. As soon as he finished building a new headquarters for 17 billion yen, he immediately began constructing an even larger one. This is who he is.

His magnificent and refreshing way of spending money as a wealthy man is not unrelated to Singapore’s national principle of finance — where dividend income is tax-free. There are countries where the rich hoard wealth without spending, and countries where the rich are treated as such only by spending.

Life is finite for all. In some nations, the wealthy unleash their innate talents in pursuit of infinite dreams, and spend money in proportion to the infinite energy they release. In others, they merely hoard for themselves. It is obvious which economy grows stronger.

Once, he asked the man who introduced us: “Is my pace of growth too fast?”
At the time I was invited to his 4.5-billion-yen mansion’s completion, I spoke to his eldest son — sharp, mature, and very much like his father. “Tell your father this: he is a shining star of Southeast Asia, and he must continue advancing, infinitely.” It goes without saying that I said this as if in place of myself.

When I first saw his appearance in his president’s office, I thought: ten years ago, I could have stood equal with him in business. Now, I cannot. But I will not lose in brain power. Yet born in a country still burdened by the illness of sixty years ago, and by the foolishness that illness brought, I had been robbed of the business power to rival him. That regret and my pride surged through me at the same time.

Among the top half of my classmates who became bureaucrats, their mismanagement was clear. The “total volume restrictions” should have been implemented gradually and far earlier. Instead, carried out too late, they caused fatal damage. And the mass media that deepened it — they are no destination for Japan’s true first-rate minds.

Banks, real estate, the construction industry — all of it collapsed under its own weight. Yet the media launched a chorus: “Why should taxpayers’ blood be used to bail them out?” A chorus of justice rooted in authoritarian self-righteousness, where everything was thrown together indiscriminately.

That was twenty-five years ago.