Finance ministers and bankers from the G20 nations are meeting in Moscow, and seem keen not to criticize the way Japan is handling its economy. Some countries in the region, notably Korea, say Tokyo's decision to allow the yen to fall sharply has made their exports uncompetitive. But correspondents at the meeting believe the matter won't be directly addressed in a final communique. And yet Japan's new prime minister, Shinzo Abe, is getting economists around the world excited. He's against austerity and instead backs an all-out push for growth. So, is huge government spending the way forward for Japan? Rupert Wingfield-Hayes in Tokyo is not so sure.
Since moving to Tokyo last year, I have become both fascinated and confused by how Japan works. It is a country that defies definition. It's a democracy, but it's been ruled by one party for all but a handful of the last fifty years. And then there's the economy. How does one explain what's been going on outside my front door ever since I arrived?
I live on a busy street, a stone's throw from Tokyo's biggest shopping district. This short stretch of road, a couple of hundred meters long, has been under renovation now for nearly a year. To be fair, they are doing a lovely job, far superior to anything you see in Britain. But why is it taking so long? And what must it be costing?
The other morning I came out to find two elderly men, on their knees, carefully cementing the new curb stones into place in front of our building. Every stone was perfectly level, every joint tight and immacurate. As those two worked, five other elderly men stood around them, eagerly directing pedestrians with white-gloved hands and red plastic batons. Now I'm fairly certain I would have been able to negotiate my way around this minor obstacle without the help of this crack team of uniformed pensioners. But that, you see, is not really the point. I call them Tokyo's red-stick men, and they are a vast army, around every construction site in the city, every road repair, often outnumbering the actual workers.
The other night I was driving home along one of Tokyo's elevated motorways. It was well after midnight and below freezing. Ahead of me I saw big neon-flashing arrows, showing that repair crew was out working. Then, as I got closer, I saw them. Small dark figures frantically waving their bright neon batons, one every five meters or so. The poor old guys look more like they'd die from hyperthermia than prevent any accidents.
"Why on earth do they have those ridiculous red stick men everywhere?" I asked a friend who's been here for twenty years. "Ah, that's regulations" he said in a flash.
It turns out, every construction company is required to employ the red stick men, the number based on a complicated formula. It's for safety, of course, except it's not. It's about creating jobs. Ask my wife, who is Japanese, and she will say "It's better than having them sitting at home claiming welfare like you do in Britain. And maybe she has a point. But over-regulation can stifle innovation and hold back change.
There's a regulation for everything in Japan. One of the strangest is that it is ilegal to dance in any Japanese city after midnight. Yes, you can actually be arrested here for the crime of unlicensed dancing. As I'm not prone to dancing through the wee hours, I'm not too bothered. What does bother me though is the price of vegetables in my local supermarket.
The other day, I was perusing some juicy-looking salad tomatos until I noticed the price: two pounds each. In shock, I asked another friend who is an economist, how this could be. "Well, you see," he said, "those tomatos are grown in a green house. And it's cold here in the winter, so it needs to be heated. And the gas has to be shipped all the way from Quatar. So of course the tomatos are expensive.
"Then what about apples?" I countered. Why does a box of Fuji apples cost a hundred pounds? "Ah, yes," he said, "That's because Japan's climate is terrible for growing apples. It's too hot and humid in the summer. So each apple has to be carefully wrapped in cellophane while on the tree, and then, soaked in pesticide to keep the bugs off. It's not farming," he chuckled, "It's very expensive gardening."
The products of this very expensive gardening are wonderful to behold. Again Ask my wife, and she'll say "Japanese food is simply better, fresher, more tasty, more nutritious." But it comes at a very high price.
I know it's achieving its goal. Japanese farming is dying. The average Japanese farmer is now 65 years old. In twenty years there will be very few farmers left.
Every one now agrees Japan has to change. But Japanese people are afraid of chnage too. And, so, they've put their hopes in a government that says it can spend Japan back to prosperity. No one has much idea whether it would work, but it sounds much better than giving up old ways, that can look pretty absurd to outsiders, but, which people here know and trust.
(Source: http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/fooc/fooc_20130216-1200b.mp3 16:35 - )