In my previous installment on lesser-known tribes in Japan, I talked about three cultural groups that many people outside of Japan don’t realize exist. Today, I’ll shift my attention to two groups brought together by lifestyle and economic circumstances.
Danchi-zoku: The Post-War Housing Project Dwellers
The danchi are public housing complexes that rose to prominence in post-war Japan during the mid-1950s. Most people lived in traditional wooden homes at the time. Thus, most Japanese people considered the danchi a major lifestyle upgrade. Post-war real estate saw the rise of concrete buildings, flush toilets, and stainless-steel kitchen sinks. (I can tell you firsthand that the last one remains a mainstay in many Japanese apartments today.)
Office jobs became more of the norm after the end of WWII. As a result, the danchi-zoku were a symbol of the rising middle-class in Japan. Additional perks of having these 2DK apartments (read: a dining room, kitchen, and two rooms) was that children could sleep in separate rooms from their parents, which caused less crowding. However, it was a compartmentalized style of living. That and the slow decline of the multigenerational household (since the apartments were too small for a large family) fostered a bleaker view of the danchi.
It also didn’t help that by the 1970s, the lack of community caused many tenants to experience loneliness. Only now do experts consider loneliness as a public health problem. Before then, it led to many suicides, particularly at Takashimadaira Danchi up in Tokyo’s Itabashi Ward.
Danchi-Tsuma
On the other hand, it also led to the aptly-named danchi-tsuma. These are the often lonely and bored housewives who stayed home while their husbands worked. While not a typically unusual scenario, it became a particularly sensationalized genre in erotic novels and films.
While danchi still exist in Japan, building firms have revamped many of them to keep up with living standards and building codes. This includes detached homes that create more community among the tenants. Some of these new public housing structures actively avoid using the word danchi in order to paint them in a more favorable light.
The Office Tribes
As is the case with a few zoku, it’s hard to define these subcultures strictly. Sometimes they are tropes based on shared life experiences. The office tribes, sometimes simply described as personas, are good examples of this, as it shows an acute awareness of one’s professional lifecycle in a white-collar setting.
The previously linked article focuses on 11 personas in total. However, seeing as how this article discusses zoku, I’ll focus on four: the hotaru-zoku (firefly tribe), the hodohodo-zoku (“Nonchalant Phantom”-tribe), and the nure ochiba-zoku (legacy tribe). These tropes mostly apply to men due to the patriarchal culture of office work.
The hotaru-zoku chain-smoke cigarettes–which glow in the night like fireflies— on the veranda of their apartments, distant from their families and the warmth of their home. Hotaru-zoku smoke on their verandas in good faith to prevent their families from having to experience second-hand smoke. However, smoke still drifts from the windows into their apartment, which can make the environment unfavorable to live in.
The hodohodo-zoku do the bare minimum at work. Just enough to get paid, but not too much to advance. (They have much in common with the “company NEET.”) On the flip side, the nureochiba-zoku are the older veterans in the workforce, who hold on to their jobs long past their prime.
Conclusion
As I look over both the danchi-zoku and the various office tribes, I see some trends. The influence of an emerging and somewhat stabilized white-collar office culture had a major impact on Japanese society post World War II. I sometimes wonder, especially in the wake of the pandemic, how much of these zoku and subcultures will stick around. How many, in contrast, will transition into something else?
The danchi–zoku arose from greatly modernized apartments that offered convenience at the cost of larger, multigenerational families. The danchi-zoku seem to have faded away, at least in name. However, people continue to become more separated and lonely as society becomes more technologically advanced.
Moreover, with the advent of working from home, some office traditions–at least within Japan, seem to be fading. Just this past week, a poll showed that after-work nomikai, or drinking parties, are falling drastically out of favor in the wake of the pandemic. And we’ve written before about how New Years parties are falling out of favor in Japan. These parties, where people use alcohol to circumvent hierarchy-related protocol, seem to be a relic. In today’s climate, more efficient decision-making can be crucial for sustainable success.
These may seem like pointless pontifications on my end. However, I’m noticing a pattern as I continue my overviews of selected zoku. I’m sure this pattern won’t shock anyone reading this, but as the world experiences a major historical shift, a societal shift arises as well.
In the wake of current events, what new subcultures or tribes do you think will develop in Japan? Let us know in the comments below or on Twitter.
More in Thalia Harris’ Lesser-Known Series:
Three Lesser-Known Sengoku Video Games
Three Lesser-Known Subgenres of Japanese Music
Three Lesser-Known Festivals of Japan (three-part series)
