“The lolicon guy”: Some observations on researching unpopular topics in Japan

Abstract

Since the early 2000s, Japan has pursued a range of policy initiatives under the banner of “cool Japan.” These policy initiatives are based on the idea that certain forms of Japanese media and popular culture are perceived overseas to be cool, which represents not only the attractive possibility of expanding global markets, but also winning the hearts and minds of young people around the world and encouraging them to become “Japan fans” (Sugimoto 2013).1 From the beginning, cool Japan policy has made much of the supposed popularity of manga and anime in “the West,” which seems somehow to legitimate the nation and demonstrate that proclamations of its decline are premature (Leheny 2006: 214-216, 220-223; Choo 2011: 85, 87-88). Although cool Japan policy has drawn more vocal critics in recent years (see Mihara 2014 for an overview), public funds are still being allocated to promote manga and anime, among other things perceived to contribute to a positive image of Japan (Nikkei 2015). Public diplomacy and nation branding are in no way unique to Japan, but its government has drawn attention for being openly invested in national(izing) popular culture. Given this, it is significant that the global spread of manga and anime hasgenerated not only stories about “cool Japan,” but also simultaneously rekindled familiar stories about “weird Japan” as a sexually deviant “other.” This distinct but connected national(izing) discourse of popular culture came to the fore in the summer of 2014, when Japan banned the possession of child pornography, but did not include in its definition of child pornography manga, anime and games sexualizing characters that appear to be underage or depicting them engaged in sex acts. The decision sparked widespread criticism outside Japan of its perceived failure to crack down on child pornography – criticism that conflated actual and virtual forms, ignoring the presence or absence of victim and crime (McLelland 2005: 63-64; McLelland 2011: 351-354, 360-361, 363). For example, one article condemning Japan as “the Empire of Child Pornography” (Adelstein and Kubo 2014) is illustrated with a photograph of a Japanese man looking to purchase media emblazoned with manga/anime-style girl characters, who appear to be young. In articlessuch as this one, Japanese manga and anime and men attracted to them are positioned as sexually suspect. In the photograph described above, we do not know the content of the offending media or the thoughts of the man looking to purchase them, but assume from the framing that the media are child pornography and the man is a pedophile and potential predator. Japan seems to be full of such media and men, which begs the question: “Why is there such a fascination with sexual interaction with young girls – known as rorikon (Lolita complex) in Japan” (Adelstein and Kubo 2014)? The alleged sexual fascination with young girls revealed in manga andanime and attributed to Japan as a nation is referred to as rorikon, or lolicon, as it is more widely transcribed.2 Lolicon has long been a part of national (izing) discourses of Japanese media and popular culture, but manga and anime are particularly prone to be taken up as examples. It is not a problem to criticize manga and anime, which are not to everyone’s tastes and can repulse as powerfully as they attract, but it is a problem when critics move from personal repulsion to calls for regulation. It is a problem when critics equate attraction to manga and anime with perversion and pathology (Rogers 2010), and link the consumption of such media with horrific crimes against children – or, as one reporter ominously put it, “cartoons may be fueling the darkest desires of criminals” (Ripley et al. 2014). Although the jury is still out on the social impact of manga and anime – “It has not been scientifically validated that it even indirectly causes damage” (Adelstein and Kubo 2014) – many nevertheless feel justified to judge people guilty of imaginary crimes (McLelland 2012: 479). In this way, lolicon has become a keyword in global criticism of “Japan’s child porn problem” (Adelstein and Kubo 2014).3