Friday, October 02, 1998
Name Order Matters
When the Japan Style Sheet was published in late May, Asahi Shimbun editor and staff writer Tonedachi Masaaki responded to SWET’s invitation to review the new publication, and attended the June 6 party to celebrate its arrival. Mr. Tonedachi was encouraged by seeing that the JSS supports use of Japanese name order, an issue he has been following for several years. After conversations with several SWET members, he wrote an article published in the July 13th (evening) edition of the Asahi Shimbun (other dates in other parts of the country). In response, SWET has received, to date, close to 200 inquiries about the JSS, many expressing opinions on the name order issue. Impressed by the response to his article, Mr. Tonedachi kindly agreed to write an original article for the SWET Newsletter, translated into English here.
Why is it that the English-language media give Chinese and Korean names in their original order with the surname first but turn Japanese names around putting the given name first? Why is it that most Japanese, asked to state their names in English, routinely say their given names first and family names last and never give it another thought? This has bothered me for a long time.
Reversal of only Japanese names is standard editorial practice at all four of Japan’s daily English-language newspapers. The U.S. and U.K. media follow suit. Several years ago, Tom Reid, then the Far East Bureau Chief for the Washington Post, suggested to the home office that Japanese names be given in the Japanese order with the surname first. This has yet to happen. Might it be that these English-language media are treating their Japanese subjects as “honorary Westerners”?
Puzzled by the phenomenon, I telephoned the editorial offices of one of Japan’s English-language dailies. The person who answered was a thirty-something-sounding male. Here’s how our conversation went:
Me: Why do you put the given name first for Japanese names?
Him: No particular reason. We’ve always done it that way. Since we’re writing in English, it seems only right to do it in English order, don’t you think?
Me: But you give Chinese and Korean names with the surname first. Is there something special about Japanese names? Doesn’t it seem odd to have these different names treated differently in the same story?
Him: You know, I’ve wondered about this myself. But it’s a very difficult thing to change. There’s tremendous resistance.
Me: So why do you think Japanese switch their names around in English?
Him: Well, it could be that we’re trying to adapt to the other culture. Or it could be that that’s the way we were taught to do it in school. Even more, there’s something very American about putting your given name first and saying, “My name is Hanako Yamada.” It has a nice exotic ring to it. So it’s probably because, deep down inside, we all want to be Americans. I know I felt that way when I first started studying English.
Yes, there is a bit of that. So I thanked him and we ended the conversation. He is one person who has thought about this and accepted the status quo. There are others at the English papers who vigorously defend the name-inversion status quo. These people see nothing odd about inverting Japanese names only. Rather, they argue that it is a good thing: “What happens to Chinese and Korean names is irrelevant. In point of fact, our policy of inverting Japanese names is the right thing to do. Whether it is Yamada Taro or Taro Yamada, it’s still a Japanese name and the foreigners aren’t going to understand it anyway. Since our readers are foreigners, we follow the foreigners’ practice on this. Even if we insisted on putting the surname first, it still wouldn’t mean anything more to them. Besides, what difference does it make whether the given name comes first or the surname comes first?”
What difference does it make?! A world of difference.
Edogawa Rampo, often called the father of the modern Japanese detective story, created his pen name in conscious homage to the great American writer Edgar Allan Poe. His tribute, however, is utterly lost if you call him Rampo Edogawa. A number of his best works have been translated, but some of these translations unfortunately give his name that way: Rampo Edogawa. Likewise, the Meiji-period author Futabatei Shimei is said to have taken his pen name from the invective “Kutabattei shimae” (literally, “Drop dead!”). All of this is lost if you give the name as Shimei Futabatei. And the mystery writer Sagashima Sho (sagashimasho, literally, “let’s look for it”) would surely be disappointed by being called Sho Sagashima.
Several years ago, a German scholar studying Japanese literature wrote in the Asahi Shimbun, “I wish the Japanese would make up their minds whether they want the given name first or the surname first.” Apparently this confusion makes it very difficult for researchers to find what they are looking for in databases.
Curious about this myself, I did a little historical research six years ago. When, where, and why did Japanese start inverting their name order in Western languages? Surely, I told myself, there must be a record somewhere. Focusing on how Japanese had signed themselves since the country’s opening at the end of the Edo period, I assumed that the change would show up sometime and I could deduce the reasons from looking at what was happening then. So I went back to the old treaties, passports, dictionaries, letters, and other things from more than a hundred years ago. And I turned up some most intriguing findings (which I reported in the September 15, 1992 issue of Aera).
The very first treaty that the Tokugawa shogunate concluded with a foreign power after more than two centuries of isolation-the 1854 Treaty of Peace and Amity between the United States and the Empire of Japan (the Kanagawa Treaty)-was signed in kanji. The Japanese signatory did not romanize his name. In 1860, the Japanese delegation aboard the Kanrin Maru to San Francisco to ratify the treaty included a man whose calling card identified him as Kim-moo-rah-set-to-no-cami [Kimura Settsu no Kami].
In the oldest English-Japanese dictionary, published in Edo in 1862, the editor identified himself in the preface as Hori Tatsunoskay. All four other Japanese who appeared in the text were also identified surname first. In 1865, a group of 35 scholars produced a going-away anthology for a student who was leaving to study in Russia. There are writings in Dutch, English, German, French, and more. Of the 35, 33 signed themselves in romanization with the surname first. Two put their given names first. This is the oldest example of inversion that I was able to find.
Following the Meiji Restoration of 1868, the pattern was mixed: some people putting the surname first and others the given name first. In 1875, Japanese Ambassador Plenipotentiary Enomoto Takeaki signed the French-language treaty with Russia in romanization with his surname first. Still later, passports issued in 1888 gave the Japanese Foreign Minister’s name surname first. Yet in the 1888 Treaty of Friendship, Commerce, and Navigation between Japan and Mexico, the Japanese signatory signed in romanization with his given name first and then his surname. It was about this time that Japanese government officials abandoned the Japanese name order.
At the time, the Japanese government was making a major effort to revise the unequal treaties that the shogunate had been coerced into signing with the Western powers and to demonstrate that Japan was not a backward Asian country but was a civilized state on a par with the European powers. The elegant Western-style Rokumeikan was built in Tokyo in 1883 and balls were held, a Constitution was drawn up, and a system of laws was hastily put in place. Every effort was made to adopt Western ways and to appear assimilated so that the unequal treaties could be revised. It was in this context that government officials started writing their names in the Western-order.
This practice has persisted for more than one hundred years as Japanese have tried to ensure that the West understood-or at least did not misunderstand-them and saw as human beings just like themselves. It is this wanting to be accepted that led to the custom of giving the name in Japanese order in Japanese and in Western order in Western languages. Shomei no kenkyū (A Study of Names), published in 1921, included the passage “Because names usually have to be written in roman letters only for Westerners, they should be written Western-style, given name first, surname last.” No concern is shown for what might be needed for the understanding of non-Western foreigners. Elsewhere the book states, “[The practice of inverting the name] is probably because Japanese wanted to be accepted by the West. At the same time, it represents the Japanese effort to distinguish themselves from other Asian peoples. As such, it is a manifestation of the inferiority and superiority complexes that existed side by side in the Japanese psyche.”
More recently, I have suggested that Japanese names should be given in English with the surname first and the given name last-that there is no reason to persist in illogical inversion-and have gotten involved in a somewhat irksome debate. As one enthusiastic supporter wrote, “Hear, hear. Japanese seem to have lost all pride, but now is the time to stand up and say our names in Japanese order. Surely this will buttress our sense of national identity.” Nationalism rears its ugly head again. And I want to cry out, “That’s not what I meant!” I just meant that a person’s name is integrally related to individual identity and that it should be treated with respect, just as you would treat the individual with respect. I certainly did not mean to endorse the kind of rabid nationalism that tramples individuality or calls for revisions of history.
I have also been castigated from the other side: “What do you mean, the Japanese order is better? What are you? An ultranationalist? Count me out.”
I received many responses to my AERA article on name order published six years ago, and more than 170 queries were received by SWET in response to the article mentioning the Japan Style Sheet in July. This shows that the issue of name order, while not in the forefront of people’s minds, does elicit a reaction when brought up.
Clearly, the issue of name order is finally receiving notice, more than fifty years since the end of World War II. There will be an article, a flurry of discussion, and then things will settle down again. And I suspect it will not be fully discussed because of the nationalist undercurrent. Still, I wish it were possible to talk about this and to make the change without having to worry about how our words might be misinterpreted.
It is perhaps unavoidable that the issue of name order should be a reflection of the psychological history of Japan’s modernization and the cultural complexes that it engendered. But I believe that it does not have to get caught up with nationalist ideology. The changeover in name order, should it occur, need not be difficult. The four English-language newspapers, wire services, and radio and television stations could simply agree to change at the same time. Once that happens, the general public would eventually follow suit.
[Webmaster’s Note: This article first appeared in SWET Newsletter #82, October 1998.]