Until recently, what happened on Japan's campuses didn't matter that much. Students got into university by passing a single make-or-break exam, after years of grueling study and after-school cramming. Admittance to select institutions like Keio or Tokyo universities guaranteed a slot at a prestigious ministry or name-plate company. So once students made it in the door, they spent their time socializing and networking rather than studying. Companies didn't care--they preferred to mold new recruits once they were hired. But when Japan's economy hit a wall, many graduates of this system were ill-prepared for the new era of rapid change and open markets. Employers began to realize that, to succeed in places like the U.S., they needed people with better computer skills, smoother English and a broader, more cosmopolitan outlook. Companies can't simply plant their banners overseas; they need people who can get involved in local communities, says Satoshi Suzukibashi, who follows education issues for the Keidanren. "This is a response to globalization."
Shonan Fujisawa should be a hot recruiting ground. Many of its students are "returnees," kids who have lived overseas and are often bilingual, giving the campus a more international, open feel. Students say teachers are motivated and approachable, a rarity at Japanese universities. Community leaders are brought in to lecture as well. While some classes are huge--up to 750 people--they are balanced by small "research groups" where professors work with a few students at a time. And to encourage a can-learn attitude, students are asked to help with the teaching. But even if other universities manage to follow Shonan Fujisawa's liberal model, it isn't clear that companies are fully prepared for the results. "They say they want change, but once they get students from us they say we aren't 'cooperative,'" complains Wakashita, the communications-tech student. The school's grads clash with a culture in which arguing one's point of view is seen as disruptive. Graduates of Tokyo's Jesuit-run Sophia University face a similar problem, laments its president, Father William Currie. Companies fear Sophia's female grads are too "Westernized"--they expect to be promoted along with the men. "That is too intimidating for a lot of Japanese companies," says Currie. "The education system can't change until the companies change."
That challenge goes to the heart of the problems of Japan's higher-education system. When it first set up universities in the late 19th century, Japan was racing to catch up with the West and avoid being colonized. Japanese leaders wanted technology and practical know-how, but not the West's liberal intellectual traditions. Keio's founder, Yukichi Fukuzawa, disagreed: in the 1870s, he argued that Japan also needed such liberal ideas to build a secure country. He tried to put his ideals into practice at Keio, but over the years the fire went out. At Shonan Fujisawa, many of the kids see themselves as trying to revive it. Says Yurina Tanaka, a second-year student of environmental policy, computers and communications: "What we are doing here isn't just about getting a job. We can change society, bit by bit."
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THIS WEEK'S TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Young Japan Home
The Me Generation:
The country's privileged youth are struggling to define what they want. Their efforts--both frivolous and fundamental--are already beginning to transform the culture
Day in the Life:
What a 17-year-old girl does--and buys
Culture Club:
Tokyo has taken over as the source of what's hip and happening for the rest of East Asia
Sound Factory:
An Okinawa school turns out stars
Talk Talk:
What teens are chatting about online
Not Playing Ball:
A fresh generation is starting to shake up the hidebound world of Japanese baseball
Outside the Box:
Breaking the education straitjacket
Viewpoint:
Actress Youki Kudoh says respect the old ways
Viewpoint:
Parents should examine their own ethics
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