The Politics of Failure

Hello, Everyone.

I have been invited by Our Beloved Editor to make regular contributions on aikido-related topics. A weekly diet of heavy-duty articles seemed a daunting prospect—for writer and readers alike, but Stanley Pranin has assured me that something much lighter was OK: random thoughts, items of interest about activities, observations about Japanese culture etc. So, as they say around here, Yoroshiku…

Ivan Morris wrote a good book called “The Nobility of Failure”. The book is about tragic heroes like Sugawara no Michizane, Morimoto no Yoshitsune, the 47 Ronin and Saigo Takamori, all of whom had their hour of glory and then went out with a bang, so to speak. The point is that they failed, but failed ‘sincerely’ and ‘gloriously.’ Some Japanese go misty eyed at this point and mention kamikaze pilots & cherry blossoms and acknowledge wistfully that things have changed, presumably meaning that people no longer fail like they used to do.

I am not sure about this. February and March is the season here for leaving old academic institutions and applying to enter new ones and some of my students are are in a mad panic about their graduation theses. One student in particular has submitted a MA thesis of rather dubious quality and did not perform very well during her oral defence, so she seems likely to fail. I checked with the office and was stunned to find that she would be the first person to fail in the entire history of the graduate school.

The official rules clearly state that students can fail the final examination, but It seems that students who are unlikely to make the grade are encouraged to withdraw quietly, without having to go through the ignominious procedure of submitting a thesis & undergoing the final interview—and then failing.

What is interesting about the conversations I have had with university officials is the none-too-subtle shift in tone from vigorous agreement that, ‘Yes, academic standards are very important in this age of globalization etc and that mediocre students must, of course, fail’, to the suggestion that anyone with the slightest doubt about such a a student’s abilities would have made sure that the doubt never surfaced… Which makes me wonder about the hundreds of mediocre master and doctoral theses that are quietly being accepted all over the country. Or dan examinations, for that matter…

And, of course, in one respect the officials cannot be right. Tomorrow several hundreds of hopeful students will take the entrance examinations to enter my illustrious university and I and my colleagues will have the privilege of marking their scripts and ensuring that a sizeable proportion will fail.

Of course, the students who will fail tomorrow are about to begin a new stage in their careers, whereas my graduate student who is likely to be a pioneer failure is coming to the end of a previous stage. This, apparently, makes all the difference. Embarking on a new stage in one’s career can be made as difficult as necessary to ensure standards, but once the person has entered an institution like a school or university, every effort must be made to ensure that the new stage is completed. I am not sure that this situation is unique to Japan.

Actually, my student might not be a pioneer, after all. We have a meeting on Saturday to decide who will graduate and I am sure that some of my colleagues will argue strongly against the nobility of failure.

Peter Goldsbury — February 24^th, 2004 (add comment)