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Part IV—Corruption by Stealth
The author had an opportunity recently to meet what she would consider one of Japan’s elites, the son of a hereditary high priest of a well-favored shrine. (There might be a sinister shadowy cabal directing them, but I have heard no evidence of such.) “Well protected” would be an apt description. Pampered? Absolutely not. In his late twenties, he’d been sent to another major shrine for further harsh training which included rising pre-dawn to run barefoot over ice in winter to the ocean where the trainees undertook a ferocious sort of baptism called “misogi” (he says the ocean felt nice and warm) that is central to the practices of Shinto.
In addition, his duties included assisting groups of customers on pilgrimages to the shrine. He helped them find lodging and served as a general “gofer.” In a rare moment of candidness, he said that some of those people had been abusive, claiming special abilities, and some were downright “crazy.” This immediately raised eyebrows as listeners interpreted “crazy” in a variety of ways. One person noted that it was these crazy people with special abilities that were bringing people into new acquaintance with Shinto. She had a valid point. Brother 5, whose case I describe below, was abused by a gang of such crazies, but nonetheless found happiness through the Church and was able to distance himself from the crazies. Still, he agrees with the young priest: they pose enough of a danger to merit attention.
“He who wants a rose must respect the thorn,” is an ancient way of noting paradoxes like that in religion. It is a powerful force, bringing wisdom and happiness to many, but is also a favorite province of abusive manipulators. Thus Brother 5 says he is grateful to the “crazies” because without them he would never have “found the light.” But he is also grateful to the people, both foreign and Japanese, who pointed out how he was allowing himself to be abused. With no one keeping an eye on the situation, he says, a cult could have arisen and caused serious harm to many.
In Political Ponerology, Lobaczewski describes how “secondary ponerological unions” arise under the guise of humanistic organizations such as religions and political action groups. They are not as commonly encountered as primary ones (gangs and other patently malignant groups) because it takes more talent, stealth and cunning to infiltrate a beneficial organization without people noticing. It requires a person with an uncommon ability to espouse a flawed philosophy that allows sociopathic individuals to move in and find comfortable, secure, advantageous positions from which they can inflict their damage. This involves downplaying the flaws, which is more easily accomplished than it would seem because normal people are in the habit of giving everyone the benefit of the doubt.
I think Milton Friedman is an excellent example of this kind of talent. In Shock Doctrine, Naomi Klein describes how over the years, he overcame resistance to economic ideas espoused by the Chicago School, which for decades had been anathema because those had been the kind of policies--privatization, deregulation and reduction of government--that had led to economic and humanitarian disasters earlier in the century. Gradually, his ideas found proponents who gained advantages thereby, and they ultimately made the “Washington Consensus,” as it came to be called, America’s and increasingly the world’s official economic policy. Under Friedman’s direction, the “Chicago boys” in Pinochet’s Chile did what all good sociopaths do: they ransacked the economy. Never mind the mayhem, Friedman said that if problems remained, it only meant the proponents had not been thorough enough. A normal person would have been horrified at what happened on account of his “big ideas” getting implemented like that. It takes a special kind of person to pull this off.
Typically, that person is insecure. He (or she) is terribly sensitive to criticism, and tunes it out or blusters past it. He also has a flawed sense of morality that easily discounts others’ suffering. If he is a good writer, he will be more effective, because readers cannot question him directly and tend to fill in more of the gaps with what they imagine the writer means. Sociopaths see a golden opportunity to manipulate a morally blind person and come to him fawning and flattering. The initiator is delighted. He gathers more of these sympathetic people around him and gives them special consideration.
Brother 5’s “initiator,” Mr. I, is not a good writer, thank heavens. Almost everyone who knows him considers him a kind-hearted, but nervous geek. Foreigners don’t listen to his one-sided tirades. Even if they understand Japanese, they don’t follow his line of reasoning very far. They assume it is just going over their heads. With the Japanese, it is harder to say. They tend to be polite even when they think you are a jerk. In any case, many people agree with the basic ideas he presents and consider the hours he spends alone in the forest with only his thoughts keeping him company to be proof that they are well thought out.
He managed to gather around him a contingent of people, both foreign and Japanese with a variety of personality flaws ranging from narcissism to extreme lack of self confidence to behavior typical of sociopaths. At one point, he almost had a cult, but that was thwarted by action taken by a few of the elder brethren who had been elbowed out by a younger one more sympathetic to Mr. I’s wishes.
The story that follows is a fiction based on Brother 5’s observations together with the author’s observations of similar groups, which included male and female participants and both Japanese and foreigners. I’m only letting on that Mr. I was Japanese because I want to document that this rare talent arises among the Japanese as well as other people. I consider his gender irrelevant, however, and will not confirm it.
The story begins with a community under duress because a dam construction project is being forced upon it by an insensitive bureaucracy. The reservoir will flood lower reaches of the valley, including ancestral homes and fields. The highway is to be rerouted through residents’ property. They are told it will bring them more economic opportunities and that new houses will be built for them from fabulous new materials. The problem is many of them left Tokyo to escape these very things which had been ruining their health, and the rest are proud of their community as it is.
So they hold a few town meetings to discuss options. Many other places exist where a dam could be built to help supply Tokyo’s burgeoning demand for electricity, so they scrounge around and scare up a few endangered butterflies living by the river, get some petitions going, document the unanimity of the residents’ opposition to the dam, present alternative plans, demonstrate in front of courthouses, and so on, but the project grinds ahead “for the greater good” (i.e., palms have been greased, face is involved). So back to the drawing board. Someone has learned that religious organizations enjoy various legal protections, including some degree of respect for their property. It is too late to save the lower houses—they’ve all been condemned already—but one of the houses in the path of the proposed highway is designated the “Meeting House” and a suitable mainstream religious organization is found (the Church) with a liberal enough philosophy to be willing to train a number of residents for certification and grant tentative status to their Meeting House. This throws a monkey wrench into the bureaucrats’ plans, which will have to be reworked, taking much time and money and giving the town another shot at opposing the whole scheme.
At this point, most of the people involved are decent, caring citizens, and while they realize their motivation for forming a religious body isn’t exactly religious, they put forward a sincere effort to learn about the Church and apply its principles in their daily lives. However, because everybody regardless has been encouraged to get involved, a small number of people with less than upstanding character have joined and neither the Church nor the community is motivated to discourage them. To the Church, they are salvageable; to the community they are necessary for political momentum. Furthermore, most people are unwilling to recognize the negative direction these people are taking the community. “Things will work out,” they say with a smile, “Don’t be paranoid.” All the while a process has begun which Lobaczewski calls “inspissation” in which people with certain negative traits become more concentrated within an organization, eventually dominating it, with a “reverse gravitation” to the top. The Church exacerbates this by making it too easy for the residents to gain qualifications conferring religious authority. The community has been growing as news of the town’s successful stance against the all-powerful bureaucracy brings in new residents and participants to the services. This makes it all the more attractive to people desiring authority and fame.
The old farmhouse blocking the bureaucrats’ proposed highway is annexed with a brand new meeting hall built to the Church’s specifications relying on donations and hard work by residents and non-residents alike. Services are held each Sunday under the direction of Brother 1 with the help of Brothers 2 and 3. Brother 1 is the Church’s emissary from their headquarters in Yokohama, with years of experience performing services, preaching and gaining converts. Brother 2 is an idealistic, caring elderly gentleman with a Christian background and sincere interest in the Church. Brother 1 bullies him. Brother 1 is aware that the town had no real interest in the Church until it became politically expedient, and, in fact, he is already running into trouble with Mr. I, whom Brother 2 respects enormously. Therefore, he questions Brother 2’s sincerity and, recognizing the danger of letting politically motivated individuals gain religious authority, he tests Brother 2’s will. Mr. I, of course, interprets this to everyone who will listen as mere bullying and a couple of years later he teams up with the sinister Mr. E (enforcer) to oust Brother 1 in order to “protect Brother 2 and others in the community.”
Mr. E has been instrumental all along to Mr. I as a good writer with skill at presenting the latter’s ideas in ways the Church finds acceptable. (Beyond that, I know very little except that many of the people who moved away from the town did so because they had gotten into trouble with Mr. E. He had a reputation as a ruthless SOB.) Even so, the Church had suspicions from the start and has maintained a certain formal distance from the town’s affairs. Since Brother 1’s ouster, it has sent no further emissaries. More recently, it has tightened up the requirements for qualification of new brethren.
Meanwhile, Brother 3, a clear trouble-maker who at one point nearly bankrupts the town, has remained aloof from the political intrigue, carefully placating all parties so as not to make enemies. He has therefore not attracted Brother 1’s harsh attention and, in fact, has gained praise to a degree puzzling to an objective outside observer. (I’ve met him, and he reminds me and my husband of Mr. A in many ways, including estrangement from family and a tendency to utilize others for his personal needs. Worse, he has bragged to my husband about using his religious qualifications on a private basis for monetary profit.) The services continue under the direction of Brothers 2 and 3, joined by Brother 4, who likes the attention it gains him.
Then the bureaucrats make their next move, or perhaps it is one of their contractors, who is chafing at the delay. It starts with graffiti and progresses to other minor acts of vandalism, with salt poured into the flower beds, supposedly in a purification ritual by a cultist nearby offended by the intrusion of a Christian church. Then early one morning, a drunk driver from another town crashes into the Meeting House’s vestibule. The bureaucrats swoop in to condemn it, but before they can do so, the whole town has come together to rebuild the vestibule and have the entire building certified by an independent contractor.
This episode solidifies the Meeting House as the town’s central attraction, and brings in a wave of new supporters. Brothers 2 and 3 are both quite elderly and Brother 4 lacks experience. Loss of any of them would threaten continuity of the services and leave the Meeting House vulnerable to condemnation. Three younger men are motivated to join as a show of support. All three have charisma that the former brethren lack (including Brother 4 to his chagrin). Mr. I is delighted. Mr. E calls in the press.
Brother 5 is a sincere adherent, but lacks self confidence (he was abused as a child). The press zeroes in on him and, lacking confidence, he tries to turn them away, but fails even at that. It is he with the media circus at hand whom Mr. I first approaches with the proposal of creating a new religion. Trusting, bashful, naive Brother 5 has come to view Mr. I as entirely benevolent (and Brother 3 and Mr. E as authoritative, and Brother 2 as a victim). He has been puzzled by murmurs at Church Headquarters that the town was fostering a new Aum Shinrikyo.* The proposal for a new religion stuns him. Of this moment, he recalls, “That was a real revelation for you. I mean, here you are thinking that these people are the greatest. They have this wonderful social movement, and here is this opportunity for everyone to learn about one of the world’s great religions, where we aren’t overwhelmed by all the morality jazz. The fuddy-duddies at Headquarters aren’t likely to understand us. Then you suddenly see the facade fall away. It’s just like the head priest has suddenly unzipped and is asking you to fondle him. It’s just like that!” A total betrayal of trust.
With a sense of shock, Brother 5 continues to serve, bullied by Brother 4, who keeps him busy with cleaning and other chores while he struts around in his fine robes talking to visitors and the occasional journalist. Brother 5 confides in Brother 6 about what Mr. I proposed and how he feels about it. Brother 6, also shocked by this, finds reasons to be out of town for a while, but returns to take an active part later on. Brother 7 joins a few months later, claiming to be a Buddhist priest who has had a vision which has led him to the town (“Probably a ‘television,’” says Brother 5). He takes the training course and flunks it, but is brought on board anyway by Mr. I, who sees a lot of talent in the young man. And talented he is indeed! “Talented at acting like a holy man,” says Brother 5. (It turns out later he had no training in Buddhism whatsoever, and Mr. E hotly denies it had ever been claimed.) He immediately starts reforming the Meeting House to his liking, saying God came to him in a vision. He accuses others of not understanding God—and there is plenty to justify this accusation. At least half of the people involved, including Mr. I, have no faith in God whatsoever. In many cases, he claims the changes he is making are in keeping with Church recommendations. Everyone is inclined to take his word, because the details of the service format are easy to forget and everyone at the Meeting House has been too lax. Furthermore, they assume he has some special source of knowledge which they lack. When Brother 5 looks into it, however, he finds the changes are not to Church standards and begins to suspect that they are merely for Brother 7’s convenience and that the latter probably has a poor memory.
Wily Brother 7 has astutely recognized where the political power in the town lies and befriends Mr. E so lavishly that there are hushed rumors of…oh, never mind. Brother 5 overhears Mr. I delightfully gurgling that he has finally found someone to help him start a new religion. Crafty Brother 3 lends a hand in subordinating Brothers 4 and 5 to make way for the new star. He uses his seniority to endorse the newcomer’s changes. Ceremonial items disappear, and he accuses Brothers 4 and 5 of being careless. One day, Brother 7 claims Brother 5’s sandals as his own and tells him to go barefoot (unacceptable) or get lost. Kindly old Brother 2 is carefully kept out of the loop. (At this point, he rarely participates anyway.) Several weeks later, Brother 5 leaves, horrified at what has transpired, followed after several miserable months by Brother 4, who is sick of being publicly humiliated. The services are now a one-man show. The congregation begins to fall away, disgusted with all the new holy commandments and burdened by the prolonged services. Helpful Brother 6 returns on occasion. Despite his seniority, he obeys orders from Brother 7, justifying it as “less experience,” and reports on developments to Brother 5. Dissatisfaction foments within the community, until Brother 5 finally takes the initiative, threatening to tell the Church what is going on. Brother 6 relays the threat to Mr. I who responds by threatening suicide. The crisis resolves (and the community learns where the political power ultimately lies) when through negotiation, Mr. I gets Mr. E and Brother 7 to agree to take their new religion elsewhere (and there’s been no word about them since) and the Meeting House is restored to its original status and appearance, with proud Brother 4 presiding, joined by Brothers 6, 8 and 9. (Interestingly, Lobaczewski says this kind of confrontation is a typical part of the ponerization process, but more often the sociopathic newcomer proves to be the stronger party, casting out the initiator, who has finished serving his purpose.)
Mr. I continues to solicit recruits among newcomers with various personality problems. I don’t think he deliberately chooses them. They tend to choose him. The real problem is that in past times the Church had always based selection of its brethren on the recommendations of mentors within the Church, who would train candidates in the basics before sending them to Headquarters for certification. Because of the urgency and time limitations in establishing the Meeting House in this case, Brother 1 broke with this tradition, but tried to compensate for it by testing Brother 2. Somehow in the course of this, Mr. I gained the authority to select candidates, probably on the recommendations of Brothers 2 and 3. The Church has not yet challenged this, but instead has reacted by intensifying its training course, making it more difficult for everyone to gain qualifications, including legitimate candidates from other meeting houses.
Of the outcome, my husband (the source of my knowledge on Confucianism and sociopathy in Japanese society) says, “Watch out for anyone involved who has no apparent personality flaws, but sticks around despite knowing what Mr. I is trying to do. These people are most likely waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of the group for personal advancement. Mr. I has not given up his dream of founding a new religion, but is busy trying to find a new combination of people that will work. He has learned a lesson from his earlier mistakes, but it is not the lesson you or I would learn. He remains a very dangerous man.”
There are a few factors worth noting that prevented Brother 7’s cult of personality from claiming more than a mere handful of devotees. One is the fairly recent case of a cult in Japan going berserk and gassing the Tokyo subways, which led people in the Church to be concerned about possible upstarts and provoked murmurings of “Aum Shinrikyo” among long-standing members (particularly the older women, notes Brother 5) long before Brother 7 made his appearance. The threat of intervention by this august international body is what compelled Mr. I to oust the two worst offenders. For him, his whole universe was at risk. Better to let go of a couple of stars than lose it all by having the Church withdraw its authorization. I’m certain the threat of termination gave Mr. I crucial leverage in the confrontation.
The second is the presence of people throughout Japanese society with wisdom from the old scriptures on how to spot troublemakers and what to do about them. My husband could counsel Brother 5 to get away from Mr. I and especially avoid Mr. E (he was about to move in next door to him) and finally to consider approaching the Church about what was happening, because the Church’s reputation was at stake and Brother 5 had a duty to uphold it, because he had benefited from their training and had high regards for the organization.
I realize the West has similar old wisdom to draw upon, but I lack knowledge of it (Lobaczewski mentions Socrates in the same sentence as Confucius), possibly because of having been brought up in economic good times when society encouraged a considerable degree of hedonism. This is now occurring in Japan as well, and I suspect it will only be a matter of time before the old wisdom is ignored here as well and people start choosing interesting leaders. Neither East nor West has a monopoly on ponerogenesis.
A third factor preventing the incipient cult from going too far was the presence of numerous foreigners in the town, who’d been attracted by its success at dealing with the bureaucrats. They came from a wide range of countries, and while most of them saw Mr. I and even Mr. E as benign and friendly, they spotted the rogue nature of Brother 7’s leadership right away. Without them, I think (and my husband concurs) the Japanese would likely have been bamboozled by Brother 7, unwilling to question his preposterous claims of divine knowledge and encouraged to shun or attack dissenters.
This does not mean that people outside of Japan have an advantage in terms of vision, but rather that having moved into a place as different as Japan, they tend to be more open-minded and therefore less authoritarian than the average. (My thanks here to Larry Ogborn for recommending a great reference work on the subject: The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer, a full copy of which can be obtained at click here ) The Japanese residents who had been living in the same town for generations would tend to be more authoritarian and less likely to notice or speak up about corruption among their revered authority figures. Worse than that, Japan’s education system discourages independent thought and produces a very high degree of homogeneity and authoritarian “follow-the-leadership” in all sectors of society. The Japanese are extremely vulnerable to ponerization processes once these get underway.
When I looked into what factors may have led Japan into the disaster of fascism in the lead-up to World War II, the immediate, widely known answer was: Japan’s stunning victory in the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905). Because of that, opposition to militarization could be easily crushed. In The Enigma of Japanese Power, Karel van Wolferen also noted that once the Japanese get going in one direction they tend to stay stuck in that mode, unable to change course, until a catastrophe finally forces them to change. (But to see the disaster America has blundered into, is this not true of everyone to some degree?) A variety of cults exist in Japan, and some are quite powerful. None has gone as far in their misdeeds as Aum Shinrikyo, and thus are allowed to continue preying on the weak and misfortunate. Hypocritical priests with fancy cars and gluttonous appetites are a galling presence, giving religion a bad image in the minds of many of the people. The press spotlights these issues.
I conclude this series by noting that while Confucianism is no panacea, it can help individuals avoid pitfalls and cultivate healthy relationships with healthy people. (Brother 5 has moved to Yokohama, where he can participate more centrally in the Church. He never did bring up Brother 7’s case with them, because it never became necessary. He is observing Mr. I’s new recruits.) If Confucianism has one fault from Lobaczewski’s point of view, it would be its moral condemnation of people with personality flaws that we now realize they have no control over. The result is a confrontational relationship, in which the oppressed minority schemes to take control as a matter of personal survival. On the other hand, the majority must keep that minority under control, because the latter is unable to observe limits. Moralization helps the average person grasp normal moral concepts, but to a person with moral blindness, it is nothing but meaningless badgering and only creates determined enemies among them. What we need to do is modify the lessons of Confucianism and other moral systems to take our new knowledge into consideration. Combination with non-confrontational Buddhist philosophy may be of some help here. What is crucial is to realize that a significant percentage of society differs from the norm in its ability to perceive moral issues and that, furthermore, these people can’t help it. From there, we can begin to consider new approaches to solving age-old problems.
*Aum Shinrikyo (see http://www.religioustolerance.org/dc_aumsh.htm for an excellent description of its establishment and tactics) had several parallels to the group I’ve described, including establishment in an isolated rural area, a messianic leader claiming special powers and a siege mentality.
