JAPANESE TERTIARY EDUCATION
investigating his case and attempting to work out a compromise with the
administration and board of trustees. His claim that he was now wrongfully
employed and his offer of proof of how he was initially hired specifically as a
computer network specialist fell upon deaf ears.
In analyzing this case of conflict, after having participated in the two-and-a-
half-hour union meeting at which Mr. Sekiguchi clashed openly with the board
members, a few observations can be made. First, this represents an example of how
the label of “general office worker” can be invoked by the personnel office and
applied as a means of control even in instances where an employee is initially both
recruited and subsequently hired for a certain skill and specific job description.
Nearly all, 85 to 90 percent, of the administration staff were hired as
nonspecialists. Except for the nurse, counselor, seminar house caretaker, IT
specialists, and Mr. Mori, the present head administrator, the administrative staff is
rotated among departments and sections throughout their careers. Studies of the
Japanese corporate world also commonly describe such management practices. In
this case, even a computer specialist, Mr. Sekiguchi, recruited and hired especially
to work in the IT center, was “rotated” to the library as punishment for poor
performance and insubordinate behavior. By definition, even if one is hired for a
specific job, one is part of the “administration team.” Regardless of rank or
specialization, during the freshman orientation, entrance examinations, graduation
ceremonies and other university-wide events, all staff are expected to participate,
even though these events often fall on the weekend or national holidays. Even the
caretaker of the seminar house drives four hours to Tokyo to deliver fresh
vegetables from the countryside to sell at EUC during the University Festival in
October.
Second, the Sekiguchi case exposes the thick partition that divides the
administration and faculty at EUC. Mr. Sekiguchi is a doctoral candidate at one of
the top schools of education in Japan. He holds a master’s degree in educational
technology, presents papers at academic conferences, and even teaches classes at
other universities as a part-time faculty member. It is interesting that much of the
criticism of him voiced by faculty members was because he was perceived as
having a condescending attitude toward professors and was insubordinate, refusing
to give computer support to faculty members claiming that such tasks were “not
part of my work description.” He was a very capable network and computer
specialist, however, and a very hard worker from what I observed. He gladly
assisted faculty, especially the IT faculty members, in educational endeavors and
was supportive and instrumental in improving the classroom teaching facilities for
the freshman compulsory course, “Basic Computing.” I observed that he worked
better either alone or with professors on equal footing than he did when he was
forced into a subordinate role. He was not willing to kowtow to those in positions
of power simply because they had a title. This made it difficult for him in terms of
interpersonal relations.
In my own role as faculty member, I never had a problem working with Mr.
Sekiguchi on the occasions where I had the opportunity. I believe this is because
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CHAPTER 1
our interaction was often focused on tasks directly related to educational
endeavors. In addition, my interaction with Mr. Sekiguchi might have been
unconsciously more egalitarian than other faculty members. After the incident that
led to his demotion, and especially at the labor union meeting, I noticed how
frustrated this man was as an administrative staff member. He obviously was more
interested in individual educational projects in teaching or research than in the
clerical focus of the administrative team. Both his skill and CV suggested that,
even though he may have been initially hired as a computer staffer, his services
might have been better utilized if he was given the possibility of ad hoc teaching
responsibilities and even a modest research agenda. However, the wall dividing the
academic and administrative staff was unscalable. Sekiguchi’s peripheral status
became the source of debate and conflict. As a member of the administrative staff,
to be “egalitarian” in management he is moved around to various posts irrespective
of his expertise or wishes, as are all staff, in the best interest of the entire
organization of EUC, or regardless of the best interests of EUC, depending on
one’s perspective.
Last, the Sekiguchi case demonstrated how faculty members can wield power
over administrative staff, in certain cases, and even influence personnel decisions. I
was told by faculty members very familiar with the specifics of the incident that if
Mr. Sekiguchi had better social skills, been better able to interact with the faculty
in a fashion more acceptable to them, he would have been spared. What turned out
to be a witch hunt, of sorts, could have been avoided and the security problems
might not have been blamed entirely on him. At EUC, faculty can influence
administrative decisions, but not all faculty, however, have such power. It is
reserved for those that are perceived to be a positive force in the EUC reform
process, the young faculty team players that the president looks to for his support.
In this way EUC can been used as a model of the organizational structure of the
daigaku. Closely related to organization are the professors’ administrative and
committee tasks.
GYŌSEI—ADMINISTRATIVE WORK AND PERSONAL NETWORKS
In discussing Befu’s social exchange model of Japanese society, Moeran (1984, p.
254) makes the vital point that Nakane’s “group model” (1970) does not properly
account for the structural role of the phenomenon of tsukiai—personal, and usually
informal, networks and relations often maintained through eating and, especially,
drinking sessions. Any observer or participant working in a Japanese organization
quickly acknowledges the ubiquitous and important nature of tsukiai (cf. Graham
2001, p. 74). Much of the practice of university governance and management is
dependent on a network of personal relations that supersedes the organizational
structure of the institution. The practice of tsukiai—the “management” of these
(good) relations—though beyond the bounds of any kind of conspicuous
organizational structure, is nonetheless tacitly influenced by the ideological
organization of the university.
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