Will Japan can Kan?

Just six weeks into the job, poor election results have put Japan’s prime minister at risk of losing

The shelf life of Japanese prime ministers is notoriously short. Yet, even by Japanese standards, the current prime minister, Naoto Kan, has reached his sell-by date quickly. Kan, who has been in office only six weeks, is fighting to stay out of the political trashcan after disappointing results for his Democratic Party of Japan in the upper-house parliamentary elections on 11 July.

Kan's troubles are just the latest episode in a series of tumultuous events that have rocked Japanese politics in the past year. Elections to the more powerful lower house of the Japanese parliament last August ended 55 years of almost unbroken rule by the right-wing Liberal Democratic Party.

In the 11 months since the DPJ replaced the LDP in office, Japan's new government has done little to justify voters renewing its mandate. At the start of June, after a series of gaffes and scandals, the DPJ prime minister, Yukio Hatoyama, resigned in a pre-emptive attempt to head off disaster for his party in the coming election.

Receiving an initial bounce in the opinion polls, Hatoyama's successor, the plain-speaking Kan, brought forward upper-house elections, hoping to capitalise on his popularity.

Unlike most of his recent predecessors, Kan is not part of a political dynasty. Rather, he came up the hard way, honing his political sense and skills in grass-roots politics. As health minister in 1996, Kan achieved nationwide admiration for his candour in admitting government responsibility for the spread of HIV-tainted blood in the 1980s. His frankness and subsequent apology to victims earned him the respect of a public unused to openness from its political leaders.

Yet, in the recent election campaign, Kan's usually astute political sense deserted him. Rather than simply sitting back and enjoying his honeymoon with the Japanese electorate, he took the noble, but misguided, step of starting a national debate on raising consumption tax to tackle Japan's ¥800 trillion public debt.

While his predecessor Hatoyama was largely a victim of his own indecisiveness, Kan suffers from the opposite affliction. The proposal to raise consumption tax originally came from the LDP. To steal the initiative back from his opponents, Kan rashly made a tax hike the centre of his own campaign. But he announced the rise without explaining how, when or why it would come into effect. Voters, who are never happy about tax rises, even in the most pressing circumstances, felt confused and angry.


The DPJ was not the only party that failed to connect with voters at this month's election. Just one week to polling day, around a third of voters remained undecided.

Despite an impressive array of candidates, with several new micro-parties splintering from the LDP in the lead-up to the campaign, very few offered a convincing reason for voters to brave the summer humidity and go to the polls.

All the parties failed to define clearly what they had to offer. Manifestos, though heavy on promises, were light on specifics -- in particular on how to deal with Japan's enormous deficit.

The main beneficiary of the DPJ's difficulties was the LDP. Of the 121 seats being contested -- half the upper-house total -- the DPJ won 44, while the LDP took 51. Predictions made after the fall of the LDP government last year, that the 2010 election would see the party finally annihilated, were premature.

As a result, the DPJ and its partners lost control of the upper house. It had been obvious for some weeks that Kan was unlikely win the 54 seats necessary for his party to retain power.

The outcome for the party, however, was even worse than forecast. This will make it harder for the government to find a stable coalition partner. The most obvious contender, the left-leaning SDPJ, walked out of a coalition with the DPJ at the end of May over Hatoyama's reversal on relocating a US military base on Okinawa. The leader of another possible candidate for coalition, Your Party, which now has 11 seats, has ruled out a formal deal. But co-operation in some areas may be possible.

The Japanese media refer to the gridlock between the upper and lower houses as "the twisted Diet". As government politicians twist and turn to broker piecemeal deals on legislation, the big picture will take a backseat to petty politicking.

Japan needs decisive leadership to overcome political stalemate and economic stagnation. If this election showed anything, it proved that the country's current leaders lack a clear vision of where they want to go.

Dr Tina Burrett is assistant professor of international relations at Temple University, Tokyo.

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This Ada Lovelace Day, let’s celebrate women in tech while confronting its sexist culture

In an industry where men hold most of the jobs and write most of the code, celebrating women's contributions on one day a year isn't enough. 

Ada Lovelace wrote the world’s first computer program. In the 1840s Charles Babbage, now known as the “father of the computer”, designed (though never built) the “Analytical Engine”, a machine which could accurately and reproducibly calculate the answers to maths problems. While translating an article by an Italian mathematician about the machine, Lovelace included a written algorithm for which would allow the engine to calculate a sequence of Bernoulli numbers.

Around 170 years later, Whitney Wolfe, one of the founders of dating app Tinder, was allegedly forced to resign from the company. According to a lawsuit she later filed against the app and its parent company, she had her co-founder title removed because, the male founders argued, it would look “slutty”, and because “Facebook and Snapchat don’t have girl founders. It just makes it look like Tinder was some accident". (They settled out of court.)

Today, 13 October, is Ada Lovelace day – an international celebration of inspirational women in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). It’s lucky we have this day of remembrance, because, as Wolfe’s story demonstrates, we also spend a lot of time forgetting and sidelining women in tech. In the wash of pale male founders of the tech giants that rule the industry,we don't often think about the women that shaped its foundations: Judith Estrin, one of the designers of TCP/IP, for example, or Radia Perlman, inventor of the spanning-tree protocol. Both inventions sound complicated, and they are – they’re some of the vital building blocks that allow the internet to function. 

And yet David Streitfield, a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist, someow felt it accurate to write in 2012: “Men invented the internet. And not just any men. Men with pocket protectors. Men who idolised Mr Spock and cried when Steve Jobs died.”

Perhaps we forget about tech's founding women because the needle has swung so far into the other direction. A huge proportion – perhaps even 90 per cent - of the world’s code is written by men. At Google, women fill 17 per cent of technical roles. At Facebook, 15 per cent. Over 90 per cent of the code respositories on Github, an online service used throughout the industry, are owned by men. Yet it's also hard to believe that this erasure of women's role in tech is completely accidental. As Elissa Shevinsky writes in the introduction to a collection of essays on gender in tech, Lean Out: “This myth of the nerdy male founder has been perpetuated by men who found this story favourable."

Does it matter? It’s hard to believe that it doesn’t. Our society is increasingly defined and delineated by code and the things it builds. Small slip-ups, like the lack of a period tracker on the original Apple Watch, or fitness trackers too big for some women’s wrists, gesture to the fact that these technologies are built by male-dominated teams, for a male audience.

In Lean Out, one essay written by a Twitter-based “start-up dinosaur” (don’t ask) explains how dangerous it is to allow one small segment of society to built the future for the rest of us:

If you let someone else build tomorrow, tomorrow will belong to someone else. They will build a better tomorrow for everyone like them… For tomorrow to be for everyone, everyone needs to be the one [sic] that build it.

So where did all the women go? How did we get from a rash of female inventors to a situation where the major female presence at an Apple iPhone launch is a model’s face projected onto a screen and photoshopped into a smile by a male demonstrator? 

Photo: Apple.

The toxic culture of many tech workplaces could be a cause or an effect of the lack of women in the industry, but it certainly can’t make make it easy to stay. Behaviours range from the ignorant - Martha Lane-Fox, founder of, often asked “what happens if you get pregnant?” at investors' meetings - to the much more sinister. An essay in Lean Out by Katy Levinson details her experiences of sexual harassment while working in tech: 

I have had interviewers attempt to solicit sexual favors from me mid-interview and discuss in significant detail precisely what they would like to do. All of these things have happened either in Silicon Valley working in tech, in an educational institution to get me there, or in a technical internship.

Others featured in the book joined in with the low-level sexism and racism  of their male colleagues in order to "fit in" and deflect negative attention. Erica Joy writes that while working in IT at the University of Alaska as the only woman (and only black person) on her team, she laughed at colleagues' "terribly racist and sexist jokes" and "co-opted their negative attitudes”. 

The casual culture and allegedly meritocratic hierarchies of tech companies may actually be encouraging this discriminatory atmosphere. HR and the strict reporting procedures of large corporates at least give those suffering from discrimination a place to go. A casual office environment can discourage reporting or calling out prejudiced humour or remarks. Brook Shelley, a woman who transitioned while working in tech, notes: "No one wants to be the office mother". So instead, you join in and hope for the best. 

And, of course, there's no reason why people working in tech would have fewer issues with discrimination than those in other industries. A childhood spent as a "nerd" can also spawn its own brand of misogyny - Katherine Cross writes in Lean Out that “to many of these men [working in these fields] is all too easy to subconciously confound women who say ‘this is sexist’ with the young girls who said… ‘You’re gross and a creep and I’ll never date you'". During GamerGate, Anita Sarkeesian was often called a "prom queen" by trolls. 

When I spoke to Alexa Clay, entrepreneur and co-author of the Misfit Economy, she confirmed that there's a strange, low-lurking sexism in the start-up economy: “They have all very open and free, but underneath it there's still something really patriarchal.” Start-ups, after all, are a culture which celebrates risk-taking, something which women are societally discouraged from doing. As Clay says, 

“Men are allowed to fail in tech. You have these young guys who these old guys adopt and mentor. If his app doesn’t work, the mentor just shrugs it off. I would not be able ot get away with that, and I think women and minorities aren't allowed to take the same amount of risks, particularly in these communities. If you fail, no one's saying that's fine.

The conclusion of Lean Out, and of women in tech I have spoken to, isn’t that more women, over time, will enter these industries and seamlessly integrate – it’s that tech culture needs to change, or its lack of diversity will become even more severe. Shevinsky writes:

The reason why we don't have more women in tech is not because of a lack of STEM education. It's because too many high profile and influential individuals and subcultures within the tech industry have ignored or outright mistreated women applicants and employees. To be succinct—the problem isn't women, it's tech culture.

Software engineer Kate Heddleston has a wonderful and chilling metaphor about the way we treat women in STEM. Women are, she writes, the “canary in the coal mine”. If one dies, surely you should take that as a sign that the mine is uninhabitable – that there’s something toxic in the air. “Instead, the industry is looking at the canary, wondering why it can’t breathe, saying ‘Lean in, canary, lean in!’. When one canary dies they get a new one because getting more canaries is how you fix the lack of canaries, right? Except the problem is that there isn't enough oxygen in the coal mine, not that there are too few canaries.” We need more women in STEM, and, I’d argue, in tech in particular, but we need to make sure the air is breatheable first. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.