Drinking as a Way of Life

In Japan alcoholism is reaching epidemic proportions

After his customary ten-hour day at the office, a bright, up-and-coming young businessman went to a cocktail party given by his boss. A little nervous, he tossed back so many stiff highballs that he lost count. Feeling no pain, he proceeded to insult his host, lose control of his bladder, pass out on the floor, and was carried home. Was he fired for having disgraced himself so? No. This was Tokyo, not New York. When the young man returned to work the next day, not a word was spoken about the previous evening. In Japanese fashion, his behavior was not held against him; in fact, the unpleasant incident was completely forgotten.

Incidents of this sort are commonplace in Japan. Perhaps because the society is so straitlaced and hierarchic, drinking as a social release has become notoriously pervasive, with the result that alcoholism is now approaching epidemic proportions. Time was when Japanese restricted their drinking to Shinto festivals, viewing cherry blossoms or the celebrations of births and marriages. Not so today. A majority of habitual drunks are businessmen. A new survey reveals that in Japan there are more than 3 million alcoholics and problem drinkers--6% of the adult population. This is a fourfold jump since World War II.

Nor are these statistics applicable only to men. The Japanese tend to gloss over the problem of alcoholism among women. What is known is that 42% of Japanese women--a rise of 18% from eight years ago--drink "occasionally." Japanese women, in fact, are becoming alcoholics faster than their menfolk. "Most women alcoholics are kitchen drinkers," says Yoko Shibata, a professor of medicine at Toho University. "With husbands at work and children in school, they drink out of loneliness and become addicted in six years, compared with ten years for men." Shibata adds that Japanese women tend to become manic-depressive, which only reinforces their habit.

More disturbing is that 20% of Japanese high school students admit they need a drink several times a week just to keep going on the academic mill. Dr. Hiroaki Kono. Japan's leading expert on alcoholism, warns: "If this catches fire it would be like matches on oil. We are the most permissive people in the world as regards alcohol."

Sales figures are mute testimony to his claim: the quantity of alcoholic beverages consumed has risen from 934 million gal. in 1965 to 1,549 million in 1977--14 gal. per capita. (By contrast U.S. per capita consumption in 1977 was 25 gal. But public drunkenness in the U.S. is generally less tolerated.) Alcohol is more available in Japan than in any of the hard-swilling Western nations. Commonly called mizu shobai, or "water business." it is a $40 billion enterprise, enhanced by 100,000 conveniently located vending machines dispensing hard liquor, beer and sake 24 hours a day. "In Japan," explains a Tokyo businessman, "alcohol plays the role of psychiatry in the West. Instead of analysis, we get rid of our inhibitions with a few drinks. I think we would explode without it." Kazuo Shimada, a psychologist, agrees: "If they were forced to go on the wagon, many Japanese would simply go bang." Yet another survey discloses that 63% of all Japanese males gave an unequivocal no to the question: Is your life possible without a few drinks? Thus it is hardly surprising that in 1976 annual corporate spending on entertainment--$7.6 billion--was 34% higher than the government's defense budget for that year.

A typical evening's entertainment for a Tokyo businessman starts with a lavish dinner accompanied by endless cups of sake served up by kimonoed geishas. Then the host takes his client to a series of the best of the capital's 80,000 bars and nightclubs. There obliging Cardin-clad hostesses keep the cups brimming with mizuwari (whisky and water). Around midnight the hostesses help their staggering patrons on with their coats and send them off to start another day of more of the same.

Yoshitaka Hojo, 47, a sales engineer for a leading Tokyo appliance firm, went through such a routine six nights a week for 20 years. He admits he became a hopeless alcoholic. "I soon found myself drinking a bottle and a half of whisky per day." He was hospitalized 14 times, including five stays in a mental institution. Throughout this period, his employers showed extraordinary patience. So did his wife. Says Hojo: "Without their help I would have ended up in Skid Row." Instead, he joined Danshu-Kai. or the All-Nippon Sobriety Association, the Japanese equivalent of Alcoholics Anonymous, which has 50,000 members. He is now dry and proud of Danshu-Kai. founded 15 years ago.

Public health authorities and the medical profession in Japan have been slow, even reluctant to deal with alcoholics. The Japanese government budgeted a paltry $90,000 for alcohol research last year, while collecting $3.5 billion in alcohol revenues. In all of Japan, there are only 800 beds reserved for alcoholics and only three clinics specializing in outpatients. Of the 8,000 psychiatric specialists in Japan, fewer than 1% specialize in alcohol and its related problems. Oddly enough, Dr. Katsumi Meguro. director of mental health at the Ministry of Health and Welfare in Tokyo, seems to be unconcerned by this lack of attention. "When compared with the situation in the U.S.," he says, "there is nothing serious about the problem." Considering Japan's soaring statistics, that is perhaps carrying face saving a little too far.

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