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Japan Times
43 minutes ago
- Japan Times
Tokyo police admit 'serious mistake' in investigation of spray dryer firm
The Metropolitan Police Department admitted in a report released Thursday that it made a "serious mistake" during its investigation into machinery-maker Ohkawara Kakohki, which resulted in false accusations involving weapons exports being made against company executives. In the report, the MPD stated that the chain of command in the investigation by its Public Security Bureau was "dysfunctional, leading to a serious mistake." In March 2020, the bureau arrested company president Masaaki Okawara and two other executives, alleging that the firm exported without permission a spray dryer that could be repurposed for weapons production. The Tokyo District Public Prosecutor's Office dropped the charges against them in July 2021, just before the first criminal court hearing on the case. According to the report, information unfavorable for building a case was not shared with senior MPD officials, and such officials merely rubber-stamped the investigation procedures. The bureau "lacked fundamental investigative principles as an organization," the report pointed out. "We caused significant stress and hardship" to people including Okawara, 76, and the two other company executives who were arrested, MPD Superintendent-General Yuji Sakoda told a news conference Thursday. "We deeply apologize." The report noted that the chief of a section in charge of the investigation and the chief's direct supervisor prioritized arrests of suspicious individuals and did not pay sufficient attention to information that could be detrimental to building a case, such as suggestions from subordinates that did not align with the investigation's line of inquiry. A division chief who supervised the two officials in question failed to ensure investigation details were reported to senior officials, including the bureau chief, and communications with the senior officials had "become a mere formality," according to the report. The report also said that the senior officials had not actually directed the investigation, failing to actively confirm details properly. "It is undeniable that related individuals would not have been arrested if the Public Security Bureau had carefully considered (the investigation procedures) as an organization," the report said. In May this year, the Tokyo High Court upheld a lower court ruling that found the arrests and indictment illegal, ordering the state and the Tokyo Metropolitan Government to pay a total of ¥166 million in damages. The high court found that an improper method was used during an interrogation of a former company executive. On this, the report said that the MPD "must sincerely reflect on it." The report set out 20 measures to prevent any recurrence. An investigation panel joined by the bureau chief will be introduced for important cases to ensure that information — including that unfavorable for building a case — and the progress of the investigation are reported from the initial stages. A program in which officials assess their supervisors will also start as early as this autumn. Following the report by the MPD, the National Police Agency instructed prefectural police nationwide the same day to take audio and video recordings of interrogations over suspected violations of the foreign exchange act, including allegations of illegal exports.
Japan Times
an hour ago
- Japan Times
Why Hiroshima must keep being commemorated
Nobody should ever say that it was a good call, but it was the only one a U.S. President was likely to make in 1945. The decision to drop an atomic bomb on Hiroshima on Aug. 6, 80 years ago, was the almost-inevitable outcome of Japanese intransigence and of the technical success of the Manhattan Project, which brought into being nuclear weapons. The anniversary is generating a wave of commemorations and renewing the arguments for and against the mission of Col. Paul Tibbets to drop Little Boy from his B-29, named Enola Gay, over Japan on that summer morning. In the 21st century, many brand the bombing a war crime — maybe the worst of all those committed in World War II save the Holocaust. I disagree. Some 20 years ago, I wrote a book about the 1944-1945 battle for Japan for which I spent months poring over the Hiroshima controversy. I found writing a chapter about it one of the toughest challenges I have ever faced as a historian because the military, political and moral issues are so complex. No sane person could applaud the dropping of the first bomb, and less still that of the second, which annihilated Nagasaki on Aug. 9. Yet I defend U.S. President Harry Truman and those around him who shared responsibility for doing so. Many modern critics assume that the bombs represented the worst possible outcome of the war. This is not so. At the rate people were dying in Japan — especially prisoners in Japanese hands — more victims would have perished than the 100,000 (a conservative guesstimate) who died at Hiroshima and Nagasaki had the struggle continued for even a few weeks longer. Moreover, during the earlier months of 1945, conventional bombing of Japanese cities by B-29s had already killed more than 300,000, one-third of these in the March 9 fire-raising assault on Tokyo. There is a myth that commands support among a modest faction of modern historians that in August 1945 the Japanese were ready to quit. This is untrue. The Tokyo leadership, dominated by the military, certainly wanted an out. But they sought terms such as no U.S. government would entertain. They wished to maintain Japanese hegemony over Korea and Manchuria, to be spared from allied occupation and to be granted the right themselves to conduct any war crimes trials. Despite their catastrophic defeats in successive Pacific battles, the Tokyo war party believed Japan still held an important card — the capability to savage an invasion of the mainland, inflicting casualties that the squeamish Americans would find unacceptable. The Japanese looked forward to wreaking carnage among allied troops landing on Japanese beaches. There is another, uglier aspect of the story. This derives from technological determinism — the extent to which the bomb-dropping commitment was finally made because the weapons existed, that they had been bought and paid for. An especially repugnant conversation took place in July 1945, when the Hungarian-born scientist Leo Szilard trekked to the Spartanburg, South Carolina, home of Secretary of State James Byrnes, to argue passionately against using the weapon he had helped to create. Byrnes, disgusted by the impassioned outburst, responded with two remarks that reflect scant credit on him. First, he said that the U.S. Congress "would have plenty to say if $2 billion proved to have been expended on the Manhattan Project for no practical purpose.' He added that the bomb could even help to get Josef Stalin's legions out of Szilard's own country. The visitor walked back to Spartanburg station having accomplished nothing. Along with most of the scientists working on the Manhattan Project, he had for years been motivated by terror that Hitler might acquire a nuclear device ahead of the allies. They saw their own work as defensive. When Germany collapsed, and with it the threat of a Nazi bomb, it became abhorrent to consider its use. Their difficulty in making their case was that they were bound by intensive secrecy and could not speak out. Truman had assumed the presidency on April 12, 1945, ignorant of the program. When he was briefed that the U.S. would, within weeks, probably possess the most terrible weapon in history, nobody invited him to make any great decision. It was taken for granted that if the Japanese were still fighting when the bomb program achieved consummation, the U.S. would use its progeny to force Tokyo's surrender. Some people to this day assert that Americans would never have employed the bomb against Europeans. This is almost certainly untrue. The German generals who claimed that, if Hitler had followed their advice, they could have kept the European war going for months longer, ignored the near certainty that in such circumstances, the first nuclear weapon would have fallen on Berlin. As it was, even after Hiroshima most of the Japanese leadership persisted in resisting surrender. Their obduracy provided an excuse for the far less defensible detonation of the second bomb, Fat Man, on Nagasaki because there was a desire to test its technology. Nonetheless the decisive factor in the belated Japanese surrender, conveyed to the Americans on Aug. 14, was the Russian declaration of war on Japan and invasion of Manchuria. Stalin had known of the American nuclear program through his agents in the West but was devastated by news of Hiroshima because he worried Tokyo would quit immediately, denying him the excuse for belligerency and seizure of the territorial prizes he had been promised. As it was, on Aug. 9, the Red Army launched its assault and secured Stalin's booty. Many of the Western critics who today denounce the bombs are essentially arguing that the U.S. should have saved the Japanese people from the madness of their own leaders. Yet in the sixth year of a horrific global struggle that had desensitized all its participants in various degrees, this was asking too much. I believe Truman would have a stronger moral case in the eyes of posterity had the U.S. given an explicit public warning to Japan if they kept fighting. In July 1945, the allies did threaten dire consequences but failed to specify what these would be. Moreover, there seems a good argument that Hiroshima and Nagasaki have done much to preserve mankind ever since. The mushroom cloud, the ghastly images of the horrors of nuclear warfare, leave no room for doubt that if any nation resorts to such weapons, we are doomed. Even the world's vilest dictators recognize this. It is right that we continue to commemorate the anniversaries of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, pivotal and dreadful moments in the history of humankind. But responsibility for them should rest with the Japanese leaders who launched their country into a war of aggression that cost countless lives. We should be thankful that billions of today's people, though familiar with little history, at least know what happened on those August days 80 years ago, and thus recognize that a repetition would augur an end of everything. Max Hastings is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist. His histories include "Inferno: The World At War, 1939-1945," "Vietnam: An Epic Tragedy 1945-1975" and "Abyss: The Cuban Missile Crisis 1962."
Japan Times
an hour ago
- Japan Times
Japan gets serious about attracting world-class researchers
Japan's scientific and technological future is at a crossroads. After decades of economic stagnation, a record low birth rate of 1.15 children per woman in 2024 and the fastest-aging society globally — projected to shrink under 100 million within 20 to 30 years — the nation no longer has the number of homegrown researchers needed to compete on the world stage. The good news is the Japanese government has responded with a bold effort to rebuild the nation's scientific and technological competitiveness by recruiting world-class scientists, particularly from the United States. In June, the Cabinet Office launched J-RISE (Japan Research & Innovation for Scientific Excellence), a ¥100 billion ($677 million) package to attract global research talent. J-RISE is a major pillar of the government's broader University for International Research Excellence initiative, which supports top Japanese universities through the national ¥10 trillion University Fund. The fund, managed by the Japan Science and Technology Agency, aims to elevate the global standing of Japanese institutions by supporting world-class research environments. This level of investment signals a clear policy shift: Japan wants to become a global scientific hub. Sadly, this important strategic pivot is taking place against a backdrop of rising nationalist sentiment and economic frustration, neither of which bode well for attracting world-class researchers. Inflation in Japan has surged to 41-year highs, driven in part by a weak yen and rising import costs. While major Japanese firms agreed to the largest wage hikes in decades this year (around 5%), real wages have remained stagnant since the mid-1990s, unlike the 30%-50% gains seen in other Group of Seven nations. Younger generations, in particular, feel left behind — burdened by job insecurity, shrinking pensions and an economic system that hasn't worked for them in over 30 years. This economic disillusionment is fueling political extremes. In the recent Upper House election, the new conservative party, Sanseito, won 14 seats by channeling public frustration on immigration. Sanseito's platform, guided by a 'Japanese First' ideology, calls for further restricting land purchases by non-Japanese and tightening immigration laws — despite the nation's worsening labor shortage. It draws on populist tactics: Its leader, Sohei Kamiya, has explicitly emulated U.S. President Donald Trump's style to channel economic frustration and cultural fear into votes. Yet, according to a 2023 study by an independent think tank, Japan faces a projected shortage of more than 11 million workers by 2040, making foreign labor not optional, but essential. While Sanseito's messaging typically targets foreign land buyers and blue-collar workers, the atmosphere it fosters does not distinguish between different kinds of foreigners. Once xenophobia is normalized, it doesn't stop to distinguish between a factory trainee and a quantum physicist. A scientist considering relocation to Japan may not be the intended target — but the underlying message is loud and clear: 'You are not fully welcome here.' Japan faces serious demographic headwinds. A 2024 Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development report warns that if current fertility, employment and immigration trends continue, the population could shrink by 45% by 2100 and the labor force by over 50%. In response, public opinion is slowly evolving. A 2024 Asahi Shimbun poll found that 62% of respondents supported increasing foreign workers in labor-shortage sectors — up from 44% in 2018 — with stronger support among seniors. Yet acceptance doesn't always translate to inclusion. Studies from the OECD and other researchers show that many Japanese remain hesitant about immigrants settling permanently or living nearby, even when those immigrants are skilled professionals in essential fields like health care. Cultural and identity-based concerns still act as quiet barriers to true integration. And yet, Japan is entering a global competition to recruit world-class scientific talent — especially, as mentioned earlier, from the United States, where political volatility has shaken researchers' confidence. In response to the Trump administration's proposed severe cuts to U.S. science funding — including plans to slash the National Science Foundation by over 50% and the National Institutes of Health by roughly 40% — several countries, including Germany, France and the U.K., launched targeted initiatives to attract U.S.-based scientists. These efforts addressed growing concerns about unstable funding and politicization of research, offering fast-track visas, generous start-up grants and internationally oriented academic environments. Japan has attempted similar talent recruitment programs in the past, including the World Premier International Research Center Initiative and various Japan Society for the Promotion of Science fellowship programs. But these often fell short due to rigid institutional structures, lack of long-term career pathways, limited English-language support and persistent language barriers — all of which hindered integration for scientists and their families. J-RISE appears to be the most ambitious effort yet, but its success depends on whether Japan can create a truly welcoming research ecosystem. It arrives within the broader context of global competition. And while bold in its funding and goals, it must also confront the same core challenge other countries have faced: Can policy alone attract world-class scientists if the broader society signals ambivalence — or even resistance — toward foreigners? Science doesn't flourish in closed societies. It depends on openness to ideas, to people and to new ways of thinking. World-class scientists choose where to live and work based not just on salary or prestige, but on whether they and their families will feel safe, respected and welcome. Japan's leadership should be commended for its commitment to strengthening scientific excellence. But talent cannot be recruited with money alone. If Japan wants to lead in science and innovation, it must create an ecosystem that matches its ambitions — one that is not only globally competitive, but also socially inclusive. That means not only welcoming foreign scientists, but also fully engaging underrepresented domestic talent — especially women — who have long been overlooked and underutilized in Japan's science and innovation landscape. The stakes are high: Without a cultural shift, even the best-funded policies may fail to secure Japan's future. Yuko Kakazu, an astrophysicist, is a cohort member of the Mansfield Foundation's U.S.-Japan Network for the Future.
