First Cult: First, First, First—Who is Last?

Personally, I find myself looking upon the American condition with a profound sense of envy. It is not for the facile reason that my generation constitutes a demographic majority there, thus allowing our voices to be easily reflected. Rather, it is because there is no other nation, save for the United States, where political discourse is so vividly alive.

Among the developed nations, America alone has avoided the demographic trap of a super-aging society. As evidenced by the fact that Millennials and Gen Z will constitute the majority of the electorate in the 2028 and 2032 elections, America stands unique in possessing an abundance of youth and a genuine progression of generational turnover. Of course, for those who truly care for their country and the world, the current state of affairs likely brings intense anguish. Yet, regarding this specific vitality, living here in Japan, I find it deeply enviable.

In stark contrast, when we gaze upon Japan, we see a nation that has already plunged into a super-aging society, where generational succession has failed completely. It is a decline so steady that it is ridiculed with the prophecy that the very existence known as “the Japanese” will face extinction in the near future. While Japan has its own complex circumstances, when viewed against the premise of America’s vibrant society of discourse, one is forced to realize that here, “political discussion” fundamentally does not exist.

Or, to speak with greater honesty: what unfolds here is a low-grade, inferior, and infantile pantomime of politics—orchestrated by parties and factions comprised of so-called “career politicians” and a segment of their supporters—to the extent that one cannot even summon the will to debate it. To put it clearly, even the act of discussing Japanese politics has completely lost its significance. The sentiment that using words to debate politics is a waste of energy better spent elsewhere is one agreed upon not only by myself but by many Japanese people. Indeed, I rarely write about contemporary Japanese politics in Shitsurae precisely because there is no meaning in doing so.

Viewed through the lens of demographics, assuming we proceed with peaceful methods of reform, the probability of our generation’s voice being reflected in politics is zero. Likewise, the probability of our generation changing politics is also zero. This is self-evident. It is a consequence of the violence inherent in democracy continuing to function even within a super-aging society; the zombified logic of sheer numbers shuts down the very soil of debate without recourse.

Generationally speaking, the elderly stratum that forms the overwhelming majority in Japan has largely retired from direct social activity. It is, therefore, natural for them to wish to die without the society around them changing. Criticizing this as the selfish egoism of the old achieves nothing. Since this type of opinion carries significant weight in politics, the logical conclusion for youth who espouse reform is that there is no effective means left but violent revolution.

In other words, regardless of whether we call it democracy or something else, the traditional method of determining state governance through consensus building does not function in a society with a declining birthrate and aging population—as Japan is demonstrating to the world in advance. Instead, it becomes the driving force of national ruin. In such a social condition characteristic of Japan, politicians inevitably become like bureaucrats, maintaining their vested interests by doing nothing. After all, if the majority of the electorate desires nothing but the absence of change, one secures votes precisely by doing nothing. Conversely, those who attempt to change something cannot garner votes. For the demand of the majority is nothing other than stasis.

Once accustomed to such a distorted situation, it is only natural to lose the will to discuss politics. The apathy of Japanese youth towards politics began to be loudly propagated around the mid-to-late 2000s, when I was a high school student. And what have today’s politicians and parties begun to do in response? At every turn, they utter the word “First.”

There is “[都民ファースト]: Tokyo Citizens First” led by Tokyo Governor Koike Yuriko; “[日本人ファースト]: Japanese First” by the Sanseito party; and most recently, “[生活者ファースト]: Consumers First” by the newly formed centrist reform coalition of the Constitutional Democratic Party and Komeito. We are witnessing a politics so laughable it invites scorn, where everyone boasts of being “Something-First.” Riding this ridiculous tide, the current administration led by Prime Minister Takaichi—who leads the election-loving Liberal Democratic Party—has once again announced a dissolution and general election. Including this instance, there have been approximately six dissolutions and general elections in the mere thirteen years since the LDP regained power in December 2012. Consequently, the media today has begun to use the term “Takaichi First” as the next iteration, exposing the grotesque reality of the “First Cult” in Japanese political trends.