Tag Archives: News media

Questions, Questions

Facebook: Checking Under the Hoodie

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On the day of its monster IPO, I review questions central to Facebook: CEO, business model and strategy. (Full disclosure: I am a fan, though a skeptical one.)

Zuck as CEO

After Mark Zuckerberg’s appearance last week in front of investment analysts in New York, you’d think that the largest IPO in U.S.history hinged on the acceptability of  his attire, a hoodie sweatshirt. This was, to put it mildly, stupid. The main question about Mr. Zuckerberg is not his hoodie, but what’s under it – his mind and its ability to manage a large corporation, one that he wields considerable control over.

Zuck is not the first young entrepreneur to run a major company.  Silicon Valley turns these out on a regular basis.  Yahoo!’s Jerry Yang was 28 at its IPO in 1996.  The Great Steve Jobs was in his twenties when Apple raised its middle finger toward IBM in the 80s.  Google’s co-founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, were 31 and 30 respectively at its IPO.  But the road to greatness is never smooth.  Jobs, famously, was shown the door in 1985, but eventually returned, a wiser man, years later.  Yahoo! had some success, but also a lot of  trouble and continues to struggle.  Google’s life has been relatively calm, making its IPO in 2004 under Eric Schmidt, who is almost 20 years older than the founders.  Schmidt headed the company for 10 years before stepping aside for Page in 2010.

Much has been made about Facebook’s board of directors and Sheryl K. Sandberg, the 42-year-old COO, a former Google executive.  Zuckerberg’s debut in New York may have not have been impressive, but Facebook can still insist that Zuck is guided by a blue-chip team.  Coverage over the weekend pounded away at this, which, if nothing else, proves that Facebook has some great media relations support.  The New York Times ran a long profile that implied that Zuckerberg had the talent and vision to lead, and that he is willing to listen, seeking advice from Bill Gates and Steve Jobs.  The story also walked through a gallery of Who’s Who of Silicon Valley, Peter Thiel, Marc Andreessen, Sean Parker – all senior, experienced hands – who are advising Zuckerberg.  And, of course, there’s Sandberg, who did much of the talking during the road show.

Some of the headlines elsewhere were even more supportive – ZDNET: “Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak: Me + Steve Jobs = Zuckerberg.”   The story’s author, Emil Protalinski, disagrees with this in the subhead — Zuck has vision, but is no longer the technical force behind the company.  Still, Facebook had to be pleased with the headline, particularly as it began to make the rounds on Twitter.

What should we think then?  First, remember that nobody is ever as good, or ever as bad as their press coverage.  Heroes seem to always have a skeleton or two hidden away and serial killers always pay their rent on time and say hello to their neighbors.  Zuckerberg isn’t the Second Coming of Steve Jobs.  (In his twenties Steve Jobs wasn’t even The Steve Jobs.)  Second, a player is only as good as his team.  Just ask LeBron.   As the New York Times story attests, he has a team – a great one.  But does he listen to it? Up to now, he has shown that he doesn’t have to — stories abound that he made the Instagram purchase without consulting the board.  Many of these stories are told to show that he has the vision and will to succeed.  Still, it’s reasonable assume that some board members might have questioned the wisdom of buying an app that has no business plan and hasn’t made any money for a $1B.

My point is not to argue whether buying Instagram was a good decision, but that Zuck didn’t consult his board.  He took action and got sign off later.  The deal was significant – even for a company that is now valued at more than $100B.   This doesn’t bode well for Facebook as a company.  It is one thing to run a private company as if you are Louis  XIV (l’entreprise, c’est moi), but quite another if it is publicly held.

Conclusion: Analysts should be concerned whether Zuck will listen to his advisers.  Right now, I’d say he doesn’t have to and isn’t inclined to.

Relevance vs. Dominance

While there is considerable room for debate, I’m inclined to think that Facebook will be relevant, but not dominate, in the advertising market and the expectation of dominance is what is driving the IPO valuation to $100B and beyond.  We will have to wait a while to see how Facebook’s business model works out, or whether it can find a new way to raise revenue.  Right now it relies heavily on display advertising and that just doesn’t seem good enough.

Supporters say that it has a billion users and is continuing to grow.  But digital audiences have a way of wondering away from the crowd – Compuserv and AOL had huge (for their time) user bases and you could argue that these two companies serve as a good as any for analogy of MySpace and Facebook.  Yahoo! tried to maintain its dominant size by collecting companies and websites, increasing its offerings.  Initially that seemed to work, but eventually it users and employees became confused and exhausted.  It is still relevant, but it is not dominant.

Facebook has room to grow, but how much isn’t clear.  Budgets are flowing its way and that can be expected to continue for the next year or two.   GM’s ad budget, however, is flowing away from it and other advertisers may follow.  Many are still trying to get a handle on Facebook – how to use it and how incorporate it into the marcom mix.   There is growing concern that display ads just don’t work on Facebook and that’s where more than 70 percent of its revenue comes from.  Sure, Google can be upended, but right now ads work when people are searching, not when they’re socializing on Facebook.

Even if Facebook does capture significant share of advertising dollars, it appears that the $100B valuation is at the high end of optimism.  Shawn Tully at Fortune argues that it would have to grow to $61B in annual ad revenue, from its current $3B, to justify as an investment at this valuation: “So Facebook would need to go from a glamour name to capturing something like 8% of all of the world’s ad market in 12 years, grabbing business from the likes of Google and News Corp.  Can it happen? Sure.  But nothing spoils a Wall Street party like a sermon on the math.”

Apple has already shown us over the last 10 years that nothing is impossible.  But new kids come out of nowhere all the time to undermine the status quo.  (Just ask Myspace. ) These days its Pinterest, which has moved into No. 3 in social media views and may drive purchase decisions better than Facebook .

Conclusion: Facebook’s primary source of revenue  still hasn’t won over the industry. Facebook really needs be more persuasive on this or find another way to make money.  Even if it does, it will be a challenge to justify the huge IPO.

Toward Complexity

Remember how Facebook began and how it evolved? Thefacebook, as it was called then, was initially a platform for hooking up — a way for students to check out a classmate to see if they were available.  The most important aspects of an account then were “interested in” (as is meeting men, meeting women) and relationship status.  Since then, Facebook has evolved to focus on the feed and photos, which is great, but it has also continually acquired apps as it has grown, making its interface ever more complex.  Yahoo! started off as a index of the Internet and formed into a site that tries to do everything, none of it really well.  Google, yes, has added a lot to its offering, but it still has a streamlined interface and it knows it does one thing well: search.

Facebook has tried hard to retain simplicity, for example, borrowing the group concept from Google+ and sorting the news feeds (Top Stories vs. Most Recent), but it keeps banging up against the Dunbar’s number,  which says most people can have only about 50 close friends and meaningful relationships with a 150.  What this means for Facebook users is that the more connected you are beyond 150, the less engaged you are.  More connections means viewing more photos of the lunches and cats of people you vaguely know.  Less personal relevance to the user makes the news feed less interesting.  Less interesting means less engagement (and updating).

Hence, Facebook’s efforts to break your connections into groups and sort your newsfeed.  Your post now has a 20 percent chance of being seen by your friends, which leads us back to less engagement.  Dunbar’s number indicates that networks are less beneficial after they expand beyond a certain size.

Sure users can go int0 Facebook and set up groups, or let Facebook do it for them, but a number of  platforms are already offering immediate and simple solutions:  Limited network social platforms, or as I call them, unsocial media that intentionally limit your connections and protect your privacy or, at least, limit public exposure of private information.  These include Path – which limits users to 150 connections.  There are other platforms, too, that appear unrelated at first, but that may steal users’ time, such as Line, sort of an instant Twitter list made from and limited to your contacts.

Lastly, privacy doubts will continue to haunt Facebook.  In many ways, this may be its weakest point.  Facebook’s ubiquity means that it is used more than it is trusted; the social networking incarnation of Windows.

Conclusion:  The strategy maintaining size by adding offerings is similar to Yahoo’s failed strategy of being “everything to everyone” in the late 90s.  Complexity kills.  This, combined with a human inclination (if Dunbar is right) toward platforms offering immediate limited networks will continue to challenge Facebook.  The company, no doubt will survive, it may even prosper, but what about the small investors who bought into the IPO?

Mr. Woodford’s Revolution

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It’s one thing to start a revolt and quite another to lead a revolution.  Michael Woodford, the former Olympus CEO, will be finding this out soon enough.  The revolt spilled out publicly with his firing Oct. 14, but Mr. Woodford had started it privately with a request for the resignations of Tsuyoshi Kikukawa, then Olympus Chairman, and others directly involved in some dubious transactions.  Upon his firing, Mr. Woodford promptly packed up his documentation and went to London, and from there, investigative bodies and numerous news outlets,  seemingly speaking to anyone with a notebook and pen.  Last Friday, he returned to Tokyo for the Olympus board meeting, of which he was still a member.  Triumphant, at a news conference, he praised the news media for providing the pressure that forced Olympus to admit that the transactions were dubious and the resignation of  executives seen as being directly involved, particularly Mr. Kikukawa.

Now, Suichi Takayama is president, and Mr. Woodford is still unhappy because Mr. Takayama was as a member of the board that showed little hesitation dismissing him.  Mr. Woodford feels that Olympus needs an entirely new board and he has resigned his seat so that he may  lead an outside takeover of the company.  This is a bold objective and possibly one that is too far to achieve.  Many stakeholders may agree with his assessment of the transactions, which are still being investigated, but the whistle-blowers are seen as a troublemakers as often as they are heroes — they may be right, but their message is often unwelcome, particularly when, as in this case, the company sheds huge amounts of market value.

In the end, Mr. Woodford may have to settle for reinvigorating interest in corporate governance in Japan and retire to a life of good works at non-profits.  In discussing his legal bills recently, he seemed to hint at a lawsuit.  A book deal could also offset some of his legal fees, but there’s no guarantee that there will be lasting interest in this adventure, particularly if no yakuza are involved and it turns out that it was simply corporate crime — more “Wall Street” than “Goodfellas.”

Noisy CEOs

Olympus Questions Still Unaswered

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Just when a pleasant autumn wind was rising, Olympus blew up with a scandal that — depending on how it’s handled — may seriously degrade the foreign investor view Japanese corporations.  Although, it appears that Olympus may avoid de-listing, but there’s a lot it still hasn’t answered.

The details can be had elsewhere, but the Cliffs Notes summary is that Micheal Woodford, a long-time employee and the first foreign CEO of Olympus was unexpectedly and with remarkable speed fired by the board of directors for not having cross-cultural understanding.  It quickly became obvious that what he could not understand was why in the world Olympus would squander billions of dollars on companies that existed almost entirely on paper and nothing more.

Amazingly, Olympus stuck to its position, saying that there was nothing wrong with its acquisitions and that it was right to fire Mr. Woodford.  To support this statement it offered no evidence, but instead tried the “Blame the Employee” tactic.  This tactic might have worked at one time, but now largely results in self-embarrassment, particularly if the employee was your CEO and he has copies of all the relevant corporate documents in his possession.

For Mr. Woodford, the documents were crucial in making his case to the news media and investigative authorities in the U.S. and Britain.  He didn’t have to take his documents to the news media, but it was an effective way to pressure Olympus to move things along.  And, boy, things moved along — a week ago Olympus admitted that the deals were to cover up bad debts from the 90s.

Olympus seemed to think that this was a good explanation.  Except that it wasn’t.  The press and analysts reacted with, “Holy shit, you’ve been doing this for 20 years?  What else are you hiding?” (I’m paraphrasing.)  Apparently, holding bad debts until a more appropriate time was an accepted practice back then, but this would indicate that Olympus has institutionalized corruption for more than two decades.

Now, with this much money involved in this particular manner (disappearing companies in the Caymans), it made sense that the next question to be asked was:  How much of the cost of these deals was to cover postponed bad debts and how much was for services?  There’s no immediate strong evidence of extortion, or the involvement of organized crime or even disorganized crime, but Olympus’ story just has too many wholes in it for the question not to be asked.  Of course, this type of  crime — high-dollar and high-collar – doesn’t need yakuza or the mafia to be involved, as US companies have so ably demonstrated.  Bernie Madoff wasn’t an organized crime type, but he was organized and he committed a huge crime.

For now, we are left with an intriguing story that has only become more intriguing, because of its opaqueness.  Mr. Woodford seems to have weathered the ad hominem attacks that are always directed at whistleblowers.  There is even call among some Olympus investors to bring him back as CEO, but that is still over a distant horizon and  investigative wheels have a tendency to turn slowly in Japan.

Fog of War

Mistakes Cloud bin Laden Coverage

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The White House’s mishandling of the details of commando raid that killed Osama bin Laden has undermined the effectiveness and credibility of the military action.

When a big, positive news story is impending, there is a tendency for communications professionals to rush it without taking the time to ensure the accuracy of what is being reported.   Eventually corrections will need to be issued and these may overshadow the original news narrative.

A corrected story often isn’t an updated version of the original narrative, but rather a new story entirely that focuses on the errors.  In addition, a news analysis story may appear that focus on the errors, explaining what happened and why.  Meanwhile, the original story gets pushed back into “yesterday’s news.”  Simply stated, a corrected story becomes the story with twice the coverage.

In the case of the bin Laden raid, the White House could have announced the basics of the raid without offering details, but it quickly lost control of the story, with  several versions floating around simultaneously.   One spokesperson ensures consistency, but in this case, with the military and other agencies involved, quotes were flying everywhere.

The focus should have been on a daring, successful raid, which despite trouble with one helicopter, had met surprisingly little resistance considering the profile of the compound’s residents.  The enemy had been caught off guard and overwhelmed quickly.

Instead,  we were soon entirely focused on the corrected details: bin Laden hadn’t participated in a shootout and hadn’t he used a woman as a human shield.  She was not killed, but she was his wife.  And, oh yes,  his luxurious mansion quickly became austere headquarters for directing terrorism.

Bin Laden had first been reported as participating in the shooting, which is why there is now excessive focus on whether he was armed at all.  As Brian Till points out, if bin Laden had been hit with a bomb, as Pres. Obama considered before approving the commando strike, there would be no discussion of whether he was armed.

The U.S. military has made up stories before (Pat Tillman) and so these recent errors inevitably bring up longstanding questions about the military’s veracity and undermines trust in even the basic details of the raid.

Other mistakes:

– White House spokesman Jay Carney used the phrase “fog of war” to explain the contradictory stories.  This was not his phrase – it was offered by a reporter.   This phrase was the title of a book by Robert S. McNamara, U.S. Secretary of Defense during the Vietnam War, and more notably a documentary by Errol Morris about McNamara, and carries negative connotations of the military disinformation campaigns of the era.  While a phrase may seem useful, it can come back to haunt you.  This is why spokespersons are trained to answer in their own words.

– Whether to releasing photos of bin Laden’s body should have been decided in advance, or at least, very quickly.  Some conspiracy believers will not be persuaded by photos anymore than others are not impressed by a long-form birth certificate.  They are not interested in evidence.  The only question that the White House needed to be answer was whether the release would prove useful.

Right tone:

The White House did one thing right – tone.  The ceremonies commemorating the victims of 911 were warranted, but there was no “Mission Accomplished, I’m the Commander-in-Chief” posturing.  Making too much of Bin Laden’s death, just as making too much of  his life, is to once again raise this terrorist beyond what he deserves and give him the status that he so craved and was so willing to kill for.

Japan: An Enignma Wrapped in a Cliche

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Much has been written about Japanese culture in the wake of  the 311 disaster.  Some of it has been insightful, and some of it clichéd.

During Meltdown Week, I found this post on Jack McCafferty’s blog:  “Why is there no looting in Japan?”  The answers posted varied, many of them self-serving, others vaguely racist.  After many years in Japan, I have learned that, basically, I really don’t know anything about Japan.  I  live here, but that doesn’t mean I understand it.  So I re-posted the question on Facebook.  A young Japanese woman answered, “We were taught not to be selfish and think just of ourselves, but also others.”

This collectivism, thinking of the group before the self, also explain why a metro area of 30 million can stay remarkably civil day after day, despite packing into commuter trains.  Of course, not everyone behaves, but usually they do.

Going-along-to-get-along can lead to passiveness and this is where the critics of Japanese culture come in.  New York Times reporter Ken Belson noted in a story on jishuku, or self-restraint, that:  “Even in a country whose people are known for walking in lockstep, a national consensus of the proper code of behavior has emerged with startling speed.”  Even after several years in Japan, Belson fell for a cliché.  Writing on deadline will do that to even the best.  The truth is that it was not simply self-restraint, but sadness.  This country was in mourning, quietly and informally.  Japan’s tidy farms and factories had been rolled under the sea.  Children swept away.  A funeral shroud of silence fell over Tokyo.

One morning, I found a wire story that stated the workers as the Fukushima complex, like all Japanese, followed a samurai code of obedience that required that they follow orders from their managers.  (I haven’t been able to find the passage again, and assume it was wisely deleted.)  Not understanding Japan is one thing – everyone has trouble, even Japanese.  However, assuming that you do understand it because you have read James Clavell’s “Shogun,” is infinitely worse.  Should a Japanese reporter say American behavior is defined by a code of honor from the late 19th Century migrant laborer known then as the “cow-boy”?  Mr. Belson, on a better day, offered a story that explained the workers’ motivations — social responsibility and protecting their homes and neighborhoods, though for many, all had been swept away.

One of the better news sources, the Christian Science Monitor, ran a story by a reporter awed by of the polite apologetic language of counter clerk at a car rental:  “We are so sorry to tell you that we have no vehicles for rent at all.  I have no excuse for not being able to be more helpful.”  A lovely misunderstanding of the situation.  The clerk and the reporter are in the formal relationship of customer and service-provider, so it would have been more surprising for the clerk to slip out of this set piece of interaction and speak informally:  “Sorry, bro, all out of cars.  Can’t help ya, that damn disaster in Tohoku.”  As for not making an excuse, the clerk may have felt no need to point out the reason.   Japanese conversation has a tendency to leave  the obvious unstated, in this case, the disaster.  It could be any combination of these, or none.  As I said, I live here, but that doesn’t mean I understand it.

The best course, it seems, is to avoid explaining the entire culture in one encounter.  That doesn’t work anywhere:  “You see, he pointed a gun at us.  In America this is a common way to demand respect.”  Still the temptation is there.

From Time magazine:  “What’s unique about Japan is really a combination of a deep belief in Buddhism and Shinto religious rituals and what we call a collectivist culture where others are at least on par with the self, if not more important.”

The Time writer offers an example:  “We walked to the corner and the light turned red and there were no cars.  I started crossing and I looked back and she and the others were still standing on the corner waiting.  I said ‘It’s ok, there are no cars.’  She smiles and the light turns green and then she starts walking and says, ‘Now doesn’t that feel better.’  It has nothing to with ‘Is it safe to cross?’  A red light is a signal that everyone must obey.  And it’s not blind obedience to authority, its devotion to a real communal culture where the focus is always on the other.”

Is this an example of something? Maybe, but of what, I’m not sure.  Tokyo residents jaywalk often, but they do it carefully to avoid being honked at (tragically embarrassing), and making full-body contact with high-speed, internal-combustion vehicles.  We can’t know why the woman waited for the light.  She might have felt the need to encourage the foreigner to respect law.

She continues:  “In restaurants, you never pour your own sake, you have to notice whose glass is empty and you serve them.  It’s these little rituals [that have prepared them for this crisis] so that even if you have one bowl of rice, you share it with a stranger.”

You shouldn’t let a person’s glass become empty – fill it before that happens.  But isn’t this just good manners with a bit of extra ritual?  As for sharing a bowl of rice with a stranger – that’s common decency.  I as recall, Americans of a certain belief system refer to this as “being Christian” and “Christian charity,” but, perhaps, it is part of the traditional code of the cow-boy.

TEPCO’s Failure to Communicate

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Watching TEPCO handle the Fukushima reactor crisis, I’m reminded of Strother Martin’s famous line, “What we got here is failure to communicate.”

TEPCO’s failure was so  complete that it is difficult to focus on any part, but for the moment let’s consider how to it dealt with the numbers.  In crisis communication, as in investor relations, there are the numbers and there is no changing those.  They are what they are. Your only hope is explaining “why” they are what they are, and, if you’re really lucky, “how” you’ll try to change them.  That’s it.

If the corporation does not put its numbers in context, someone else will, and they are under no obligation to do it fairly.  The anti-nuclear energy crowd seems to be better organized and often appears as the sole nuclear expert in news stories, such as in the fourth paragraph here.

Let’s look at the coverage of the upgrade of the crisis to a Level 7, here, here, and here.   Fukushima’s upgrade was based on the total amount of radiation released – roughly 10 percent (though if the release continues, much more) of Chernobyl.  This needed to be part of the lead and in the headline: “Crisis upgraded to Level 7 based on total radiation released,” but look how far into these stories you have to read before you get to the number.  This is the “why” of the story, but its near the middle or lower in every story.  Now look at TEPCO’s handling of it.  It could have cited why it was rated a Level 7, but it simply acknowledges the rating.  I know, regulations and all that, but there could have been something more here.  This looks like TEPCO falling on its sword rather than trying to give a full, honest accounting.

TEPCO consistently posts data without much explanation.  Most of what it does is simply from tradition and style.  There is a reluctance for  Japanese corporations to explain themselves and this really hurts them when they have a crisis, particularly if they are dealing with the international press.

There’s nothing wrong with putting your numbers in context if it is accurate.  Putting the numbers in perspective helps people to better understand what the numbers mean — not “x number microsierverts,” but “x number of microsierverts, or the equivalent of half a year’s worth of background radiation.”  Instead, TEPCO simply dumps its data in terse releases that are difficult understand.  If you make it hard for reporters, you make it hard for your company, too.

Recently, TEPCO began pumping out 25,000 tons of highly radioactive water from one of the  reactors.  Does anybody have any idea how much 25,000 tons of water is?  Neither do I.  Maybe engineers measure their water in tons, but everyone else uses volume rather than weight.  Nobody buys half a kilo of water at a convenience store, so why not do what the Wall Street Journal does here and explain the amount in Olympic swimming pool equivalencies.  You learn 25,000 metric tons (2,200 pounds) equals about 10  OSP (Olympic swimming pools).  That’s much easier to imagine than 25,000 tons, which has no meaning to most people.

Press releases  are explanations to the public.  The worse a corporation does with these, the less likely its actions will be understood and the more likely that its information will be doubted.  Opacity looks like a thin veil of deceit and audiences assume that it is.

Several years ago, I advised the Republic of Botswana’s Embassy in Japan.  At that time, Botswana was well known for one number — the highest AIDS/HIV rate in the world.  That was true, but a more accurate statement, and one I insisted upon, was that Botswana had the highest documented AIDS rate in the world.  This often resulted in a parenthetical explanation that many sub-Saharan countries had yet to document AIDS rates.  It also highlighted that Botswana was doing something about its problem, allowing an opening to mention a different number –  a third of all gem quality diamonds came from Botswana and this revenue was used in the war against AIDS.  The story often changed from “highest AIDS rate in the world,” to “diamond revenue in the war against AIDS.”

Crisis communication is almost never about winning the game, but about staying  close and avoiding a devastating loss.  TEPCO’s executives mishandled the crisis, clearly, but the company’s public communications has exacerbated the situation.

Tokyo Unbroken

Being stranded at IUJ isn't such a bad thing.

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Up until 2:45 p.m. Friday everything was as usual. After that everything was not. All caps text messages came from friends — THAT WAS NOT FUNNY, was one.  Twitter and Facebook posts echoed the sentiment. Waiting for the Shinkansen at Urasa in Niigata Prefecture, I watched Tohoku being  devastated by tsunami live on TV.  The world had changed irrevocably for hundreds of thousands of victims. It was only the beginning.

Although I was on the west side of Honshu, the shocks were as strong as a big earthquakes. All trains were stopped. Contact with Tokyo was difficult – text messages arrived in batches; friends had had difficulty standing in Tokyo streets during the earthquake.  Aftershocks continued to frighten them. Finally, a message came through, “Huge earthquake, but NOTHING broke,” bridges, buildings, were all remarkably intact.

Phone calls were impossible, email patchy, and so I relied on Facebook and Twitter, though posts sometimes disappeared.  I returned to the International University of Japan, where I’d just finished a class, thinking that I would sleep in the faculty lounge.  Instead, I was put up in a room over its research center.  I posted a plea on Facebook for an iPhone charger and a student answered in minutes.

That evening, while endless replays of the devastating scenes from the afternoon ran on TV, I tracked the progress of friends on Facebook.  Some stayed overnight in their offices. Others simply walked home. As the saying goes, everything is within walking distance if you have the time, and they did. Three hours, four and half, five, whatever it took, they made it home and then updated.

Finally, a text came from my wife, she was OK.  I wanted to be there.  It was terrifying, of course, but at least they could walk home.  At least they were near their families and friends.  Near midnight my wife called.  She had walked three hours home to pick up our son — this, after being tossed about on the 29F of her office building.  In a tight spot you do what you must and you always do it better for your family and friends than you would for yourself.  At 2:30 a.m., I slept iPhone in hand.

At 4 a.m., Niigata-Nagano had a 6.6 earthquake right under it.  The concrete building flexed wildly.  I went through the choices – two meters of snow still on the ground outside, or my room: Room.   The building rode the quake and then settled down for an hour of rocking aftershocks.   I was evacuated to the university gym, where I tried to explain to students from developing countries why these big buildings had not crumbled (good, thick concrete and lots of steel reinforcement).

At 6 a.m., we were allowed to leave the gym and three Muslim students offered to make breakfast for me.  We had fried eggs, spicy meat, bean soup, flat bread from Pakistan, and excellent coffee.  It was a feast.  As we ate, CNN screamed endlessly about the Tohoku devastation.  I had heard that it was becoming more like Fox News, but disagree.  Cable news is becoming more like ESPN.  The disaster coverage sounded the halftime analysis and highlights of an NFL game — a group of empty cars catching fire, “Oh, look at that! That’s bad. You know, it’s just going to get bigger and burn all day!”  Who cares about a pile of junked Suzukis? Cable news, that’s who, because that’s great visuals.  Next up was a retired general on how the US military was ready to carry out humanitarian operations; and then Chad Myers, incredibly, a weatherman, who offered his opinion of the disaster, howling with anticipation of the failure of public works – “and it’s going to get a whole lot worse!”

After breakfast, I passed the day perusing Facebook, waiting in my room, and slowly going crazy with boredom and worry.  Finally, a train was allowed to run after 4 p.m. and I rushed to the station.  It came more than an hour later and took 3.5 hours, more that twice as long, to arrive in Tokyo, and was packed like a rush hour commuter train, and I was so grateful for it.  Arriving in Tokyo Station, I knew I could walk home from there, wondered if I might have to.  The station was so ghostly empty that I wondered if  the subways running, but they were.  By 9:30 p.m., more than 28 hours later, I was home, family and friends waiting at the station.

On Sunday, a beautiful day, we went to the park.  And on Monday, I had planned to work on the 49F of the Mori Tower, Roppongi Hills.  It is where I prefer to work.  However, train service had been cut back since Monday and I decided to work from home.  Still, a lot of people did go to work, but by Tuesday morning people were allowed to work online and by the evening companies had decided to close for the week.

All this free time gave us more time to ponder the conflicting news reports and endless headlines screaming “MELTDOWN” regarding the troubled power plant in Fukushima that had been damaged by tsunami.  We remained calm, though at times that was difficult.  The more mature reports came from the BBC, Reuters, and from Canada’s CBC.  We didn’t understand radiation levels at all.  Fortunately, we know someone who understood physics and medicine. And, of course, we did took an intensive online education in radiation and nuclear problems. Finally, we considered leaving town. We had free time, but in the end it seemed best to carry on here.

In 1995, Aum Shinrikyo, a religious cult, released nerve gas onto the subways and trains of Tokyo, killing dozens and injuring hundreds.  The city seemed completely frozen in fear, but the next day everyone showed up for work.  The courage to keep working keeps cities of industry running.  It isn’t just Tokyo – it’s New York,  London, Madrid, and Mumbai.  Taking care of business is often the most useful thing you can do in a crisis.

Kabuki Theater: Ebizo’s Story on the Ropes

(840 words)

Nishi-Azabu has long been one of the poshest of Tokyo’s neighborhoods, yet this year it has been the scene of two meteoric crashes by stars of Japan’s most prized cultural activities.  Asashoryu, the Mongolia sumo champion, met he his fate here in the wee morning hours last January when he was involved in an incident with a bar owner.  The dust up soon resulted in his forced early retirement.

Well, sumo wrestlers are like that.  Good thing kabuki actors are never involved in incidents like that. Now we have Ebizo, the prince of kabuki, who held a sudden press conference Tuesday evening to apologize and explain an early morning incident Nov. 25 in the same neighborhood.

Initial reports had it that Ebizo had been beaten so badly that you had to wonder if he had somehow met Manny Pacquaio.  Hospitalized, his injuries would take six weeks to heal — black eye, a cracked cheekbone, knocked out teeth, and broken nose.

Ebizo claimed he had knelt down to aid a companion who had become overcome by drink and was suddenly attacked by an unknown assailant described as “a dark foreigner.” The man was later identified as a former low-level pro soccer player and a former member of a bosozoku gang.

What seemed to be a wanton, inexplicable attack,  now appears less wanton and more explicable.  While drinking with bosozoku is not a common activity of gentlemen, it is not a crime.  Still, one had to wonder why Ebizo couldn’t find more refined companions.  This was the first drop of blood in the water, setting off the media feeding frenzy that continues now.

Next was the question of real blood — on the outdoor stairway of the building.  Police forensics discovered that all this blood wasn’t just Ebizo’s, but at least one, perhaps, two others, as well.  Meanwhile, there were TV broadcasts of Ebizo relaxing, looking remarkably spry for a broken man, on the rooftop of his hospital.  Then came reports that Ebizo had been hazing the leader of the group when the man was on the verge of the blind staggers; pulling his hair to lift his head and urging him to drink tequila from an ashtray.  And, apparently, it was the group leader that went out on to the stairwell first, bleeding heavily from his nose, and that he was the fellow down on the outside stairs when the incident escalated.

Which brings us to the Tuesday press conference intended to end to all this speculation: In front of 660 reporters (660!) at the Takanawa Prince Hotel, Ebizo struck all the right poses – bowing in apology 17 times, holding one 45 seconds, according to one tally.  He insisted that he hadn’t initiated the violence.  He was contrite, apologizing for his bad manners –  canceling a  press conference the day before the incident with the excuse of ill health, and then going out that evening on the marathon bar crawl that ended so badly early the next morning.

Much of the media just didn’t buy it.  Except for the redness in his left eye, the result of a broken blood vessel, which can be caused by trauma (i.e. a punch), or high blood pressure, he looked good.  His nose looked fine.  He didn’t smile, but his teeth or replacements, didn’t bother his speaking, and no remnants of bruising around the eye, which one would expect.

By this morning (Thursday), the media had come back for another round at the story.  Ebizo insists that he had fled barefoot for his life.  A reporter retraced Ebizo’s path from the building — up the slope and then onto side streets where Ebizo caught a taxi near Koto-dori. Walking, it took the reporter less than five minutes.  According to the timeline, it took Ebizo 50 minutes and he has yet to explain it.  A man running for his life might choose the most obvious escape — catching a taxi in front of the building on Roppongi-dori.  It would take a minute or two at the most.  If he felt pursued, he might run downhill to the Nishi-Azabu crossing, where Roppongi and Gaien-Nishi-dori intersect.  It would be easy to find a cab there – even at 5 a.m on a Thursday.

Also, this morning TBS and other stations reported that the group leader was treated for a severe beating, according to his doctor, and that some of this was inflicted with an ashtray.

This drama harkens back a year ago and Tiger Woods’ late-night cruise, which was finally stopped by a tree.  Anyone who has read even a few crime reports knows that there is often a lot more behind the initial story.  It is likely that Ebizo had a hand in the creation of the brawl – how much is the key question now.  If he did commit assault then his wallet will take a beating.  He may have to pay reparations similar to what Asashoryu did (reportedly $100,000) and plus the cancelled kabuki performances, and the several TV ads featuring Ebizo that have been pulled, could bring the total cost to as much as $2.4 million.

Asashoryu’s Wild Career Ends

(1,233 words)

Asashoryu danpatsu-shiki

Asashoryu performs his last dohyo-iri.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way for Asashoryu.  He was going to win 30 tournaments; maybe break Taiho’s career record of 32.  He and Hakuho were going to fight for the Emperor’s Cup for at least two more years.  They were going to be the greatest yokozuna combination in history, igniting arguments for years over who was better.  Or, at least, that’s the way it seemed on the evening of September 29, 2009.

On that evening Asashoryu came  to a party I was hosting at Tableaux in Daikanyama.   I was throwing the party for no reason other than that I could.  Standing outside the restaurant checking over the guest list, I  saw Asa coming down the stairs.  He had won the autumn tournament just two days prior and he looked every bit a champion.  Now, proper Tokyo behavior dictates that when a celebrity appears in public everyone engages in quiet, restrained observation.  I absolutely disregarded this, applauding and shouting “Asashoryu, champion! Yokozuna, champion!”  He came forward smiling, extending his hand.  I thought: I got him, he’s coming to my party.  But it was not to be.  With a few meters between us,  his handlers stepped in and directed him to his birthday party in the neighboring room.

Fast forward one year and a week to last Sunday: Asashoryu held his danpatsu-shiki, the ceremony for cutting off the rikishi topknot — the final step in ending a sumo career.  I have attended retirement ceremonies for Terao and Musashimaru, and know that this one was, despite all efforts, awkward.  Rikishi retire when they’ve had enough or their bodies are spent.  This wasn’t the case with Asa and you couldn’t help but feel that the JSA had been profoundly unfair – if not to Asa, then to sumo and its fans.  The man wasn’t allowed to fight until he was finished.  Rikishi upon retirement are often told, “otsukare sama” – but as Koki Kameda, the former WBC flyweight champion and one of the 380 who paid their respects by taking a snip at Asa’s hair,  pointed out, you couldn’t say that to Asashoryu because he wasn’t tired and he wasn’t finished.

Though it shouldn’t have ended this way, perhaps,  this was the only way that it could have ended.  The man was too wild, too unpredictable for the sport and the institution of sumo.  On his way out after his topknot was cut, he bowed and put his forehead on  the  dohyo.  He stayed there for a moment, then kissed the clay and cried, finally.  It was dramatic, unexpected, and powerful – so appropriately Asashoryu.

The unexpected was the only thing we could expect of  him, from his  rapid rise to yokozuna,  followed by eight years of  volatile domination, to his abrupt fall.  It was a roller-coaster ride and a lot of  fun, usually.

He was the kind of guy who two years ago declared a golf day for all of his fellow Mongolians – just before a tournament.  Of course, the tabloids screamed foul over the incident, hammering Asa, though Hakuho went along, too.  He wore baggy shorts in Hawaii and a business suit in Mongolia (yokozuna should always be in a yukata).  He made a photo book that displayed him with “ponytail hair”, as the wide shows called it, rather than a proper topknot.

Then there was the great Mongolian Soccer Scandal of 2007.  Slowed by an elbow injury and a stress fracture in the lower back, Asa skipped a promotional sumo tour of Japan, and went back to Mongolia to recover. There he ran into his friend Hidetoshi Nakata, the Japanese international soccer star, and agreed to play in a game promoting Mongolian youth soccer. It made for wonderful television – displaying his agility and speed that, at 6 feet and 360 pounds, made him so formidable.  It’s no use explaining that stress fractures are commonly tolerated by athletes, such U.S. football players, and many are able to perform at a high level despite the pain.  Never mind.  He was accused of  faking injury to get out of the tour and was banned for two tournaments.  He had to wait nearly six months to fight again.

These moments of bad behavior took a toll on his relationship with the JSA.  So when he was accused of assault last January, the question was not if, but when he would be forced out.

We will never know what really happened that night, when after drinking heavily, Asashoryu took a bar owner for a ride.  The owner had “organized crime connections” as the media politely phrased it, and he claimed that Asa had punched him in the nose.  He may have.  Asa claimed not to remember much of the evening.  But if there was an argument and a confrontation, then why did Asa’s driver tell investigators that he saw no physical trouble between the two?  And why was Asa at that club — what was the his relationship with the owner?  As with so many things relating to organized crime, regardless of the country, there are more questions than answers.

The incident, besides giving the JSA a reason to finally kick out Asa, provided impetus for breaking its ties with yakuza. (Kotomitsuki’s betting scandal also helped.)  The JSA loved that he brought fans back to sumo, but his behavior was beyond the pale.   In his first two tournaments as yokozuna, his confrontations with fellow Mongolian Kyokushuzan — pulling his opponent’s topknot, engaging in a stare down — now seem mild in light of what followed.

While I agree that you need to abide by the rules of the game and Asa sometimes did not, I also found him refreshing in a sport that had become dull.  Yokozuna throughout the 90s were giants that relied on their weight as much as their skill.  For much of 2001 and 2002, the reigning yokozuna — Musashimaru and Takanohana — were injured and should have retired well before they did.   Both personalities were restrained to the point of blandness.  Then Asa came along and made things interesting because he so lacked the façade of yokozuna.  He laughed; had fits of anger.  It was all there.

Of course, sumo doesn’t need victors screaming as they do in free-fighting, but the JSA has to recognize that rikishi are people and they are trained to fight, albeit within the rules, and they aren’t saints.  They drink too much and often  do remarkably stupid things.  They cause accidents while driving cars despite being banned from driving (Kyokutenho).  Sometimes, they even accidentally kill pedestrians while driving (Toki).  They violate the Japanese cannabis law (Wakanoho, and several others).  And they get into confrontations with a variety of people (too numerous to recount here).  The JSA has to come into the modern world with its governance and draw up a contract and a code of conduct.  Further, the JSA needs to recognize that it is an international organization (it has been for at least 20 years) and take steps to deal with foreign rikishi in a fair manner, rather than increasing restrictions on them.  This is particularly important now that Kaio, the aging ozeki warhorse,  is the sole high-ranking Japanese rikishi.

If these changes occur, then Asashoryu, the man too wild for the JSA, will have had a hand in not only bringing fans back to sumo, but also in pushing the JSA into the modern world.  These accomplishments, at least, will make something lasting of his career, which now seems so fleeting.

Holiday News: Fishing Boats and Chicken Guts

(600 words)

Monday was Respect for the Aged Day here in Japan and, without a doubt, many Japanese did pay tribute to their old folks – if they could find them.  But it would have been a dull holiday weekend if that was all that was going on.

The big international news was that China continued to play hardball with Japan over a fishing boat captain who was hauled in for violating Japanese (disputed) territorial waters, and for ramming one, possibly two, JSDF boats that were attempting to chase him back to international sea.  China negotiates with Japan aggressively, and is now pushing for the release of the fishing boat captain by urging the cancellation of tours to Japan, and allowing protests in the streets.

It is almost a law of nature that whenever a dispute arises between China and Japan that anti-Japan protestors appear on Chinese streets, complete with Japanese flag burning for the news cameras.  But this time the protests were surprisingly small, amounting to several hundred, which in a county of 1.3 billion people is not even one one-millionth of the population.  This isn’t, though, really about fishing boats, nor is it about a dead panda in Kobe, it’s about drilling for natural gas in the sea near the Senkaku Islands, where the incident occurred.

The bottom-line is that neither country can afford to let this confrontation choke the economic ties that have flourished over the years.  Proving that, thousands of Chinese continued to visit Japan and shop themselves blind from Ginza to Gion.

Meanwhile, millions of Japanese did what is now a modern holiday tradition: They got into their cars and drove to the nearest traffic jam.  Culturally speaking sitting for hours in traffic makes sense.  First, it emphasizes the group ethic – we may be  stuck in traffic, but we’re stuck in traffic together.  Second, it’s an exercise in stoicism in the face of remitting adversity — after hours of waiting for the traffic to clear, a driver finds an opening and accelerates to 20 km/hr, but just as he and passengers allow themselves a bit of exhilaration, they are thrust  into yet another traffic jam.  This kind of experience would break an untrained American, but it is commonly tolerated in Japan, and is actually considered a good way to enjoy a weekend.

A sportsman might have thought Hakuho’s sumo win streak would be the story of the weekend and the sportsman would have been wrong.  Hakuho has no challengers and makes opponents look like schoolboys who have had the misfortune to wonder onto the dohyo.  The only solace for opponents is that the front rows are still sold out and so their flights from the ring are cushioned by spectators.  Hakuho passed Chiynofuji’s post-war record of 53 consecutive wins and now is barreling to toward Futabayama’s all-time record of 69.  His effort has generated polite, subdued applause.  Sumo fans seem resigned that he will break all the records that they so worried Asashoryu would break.  Hakuho, however, will do it with better manners – he knows what happens to rikishi who misbehave.

The biggest weekend news for the morning wide shows was the fifth B-1 Gourmet Grand Prix, which drew 435,000 to Atsugi over two days.  This outdoor cooking contest featuring second-class, or B-class, cuisine, crowned a dish of chicken guts specifically, gizzard, heart, liver, and kinkan (un-laid eggs) as its champion.  Stories featuring the championship ran on all networks.  The event, like Uniqlo and its 1,000 yen clothing, and inexpensive standing bars, has captured the cultural moment; when the economic downturn makes it socially acceptable, even cool, to enjoy the cheap stuff.