In this thread I'd like to take a philosophical look at a historical tragedy by focusing on the societal impacts it had more than anything else. I will avoid highlighting the political and financial nuance that made the tragedy so much worse than it should have been, because that's not the focus here. And at the end of this I will pose a few questions that I hope will spark some thoughtful discussion on topics that are unfortunately becoming ever-so-relevant.
The Minamata disease is a severe neurological disease caused by extreme mercury poisoning. It was first discovered in the city of Minamata, Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan, in 1956, and was caused by the release of methylmercury in the industrial wastewater from a chemical factory owned by the Chisso Corporation.
It's important at this point to clarify that Chisso was not just another corporation opening a facility in a rather small town. They were responsible for a quarter of all jobs in the town, and over half of its tax revenue. This solidified it as an economically important pillar of the community, and Minamata's economic heart, and plays an important role further in the case.
The town didn't just happen to welcome Chisso; they were desperate for a savior because their two main "cash" industries - salt making and coal transport - collapsed simultaneously right before the factory was built. In 1905, the Japanese government passed the Salt Monopoly Act, nationalizing salt production. Minamata's local salt fields were forced to shut down, causing mass unemployment. To make a bad situation worse, in 1906, a hydroelectric power plant was built to power the gold mines, which meant the demand for coal transport vanished overnight.
In just 2 years, Minamata went from a regular, well-functioning small town, to one on the precipice of a complete economic crash. It was not starving (they still had the sea and rice paddies), but they were cash destitute. In the Meiji era (1868 - 1912), roughly 60% of the Japanese population lived in what can be defined as poverty. The town was so desperate that they offered Chisso the now-abandoned salt fields to build their factory.
For nearly 40 years following Chisso's arrival and their pumping of toxic sludge in the water, the pattern of dehumanization that occurred bled out from the math. While the government only "certified" ~2,200 people, roughly 10,000 to 12,000+ additional people received (often insultingly small) financial compensation from Chisso in exchange for dropping lawsuits. These people had documented neurological damage but were legally labeled as "uncertified" to avoid giving them full victim status. The government purposefully made the criteria for "official certification" extremely strict to limit Chisso's potential financial payout. The two-tier system of suffering - the "Certified Patients" (who were worthy of help) and the "Uncertified" (who were inconvenient liabilities) - proved that even the definition of "victim" was dictated by Chisso's colossal budget.
To contextualize the importance of what followed, I first want to outline a few of the core societal values upheld by Japanese communities, as this will help put the ensuing development into perspective. Roughly speaking (and here I need to emphasize that I'm not Japanese nor have I ever been to Japan, so I'm absolutely receptive to corrections and criticism), these are the most fundamental pillars of the Japanese societal contract:
This wasn't done by "evil" people, but by normal citizens whose fear of financial loss successfully overrode centuries of cultural conditioning regarding kindness and community. From their perspective, the 4 values above were being upheld to the highest standard. From everyone else's perspective, though, these same values were weaponized.
It appears that money acts as a dehumanizing agent because it abstracts human suffering into balance sheets. Anything that threatened the favorable numbers in those balance sheets was seen as a liability, completely stripping the human aspect of the situation. If this could happen in Japan - a culture that explicitly prioritizes social cohesion and harmony - what does that say about human nature globally? What chance does western society have to withstand a major disruption of that nature without completely collapsing?
Could it be, perhaps, that every human has a price where their empathy shuts off, often triggered not by the desire for luxury, but by the fear of poverty? And keep in mind - Minamata wasn't bathing in luxury and excess before Chisso showed up, but they weren't starving either.
All in all, the Minamata tragedy proves that economic dependence can weaponize a community against itself, even if that community is the product of centuries of cultural conditioning targeting kindness, empathy, and love for others.
Now I want to leave you with three main questions:
Thank you for reading, and may our fortune be good enough to shield us from ever having to experience such things firsthand.
With love,
Nydex
The Minamata disease is a severe neurological disease caused by extreme mercury poisoning. It was first discovered in the city of Minamata, Kumamoto Prefecture, Japan, in 1956, and was caused by the release of methylmercury in the industrial wastewater from a chemical factory owned by the Chisso Corporation.
It's important at this point to clarify that Chisso was not just another corporation opening a facility in a rather small town. They were responsible for a quarter of all jobs in the town, and over half of its tax revenue. This solidified it as an economically important pillar of the community, and Minamata's economic heart, and plays an important role further in the case.
The town didn't just happen to welcome Chisso; they were desperate for a savior because their two main "cash" industries - salt making and coal transport - collapsed simultaneously right before the factory was built. In 1905, the Japanese government passed the Salt Monopoly Act, nationalizing salt production. Minamata's local salt fields were forced to shut down, causing mass unemployment. To make a bad situation worse, in 1906, a hydroelectric power plant was built to power the gold mines, which meant the demand for coal transport vanished overnight.
In just 2 years, Minamata went from a regular, well-functioning small town, to one on the precipice of a complete economic crash. It was not starving (they still had the sea and rice paddies), but they were cash destitute. In the Meiji era (1868 - 1912), roughly 60% of the Japanese population lived in what can be defined as poverty. The town was so desperate that they offered Chisso the now-abandoned salt fields to build their factory.
For nearly 40 years following Chisso's arrival and their pumping of toxic sludge in the water, the pattern of dehumanization that occurred bled out from the math. While the government only "certified" ~2,200 people, roughly 10,000 to 12,000+ additional people received (often insultingly small) financial compensation from Chisso in exchange for dropping lawsuits. These people had documented neurological damage but were legally labeled as "uncertified" to avoid giving them full victim status. The government purposefully made the criteria for "official certification" extremely strict to limit Chisso's potential financial payout. The two-tier system of suffering - the "Certified Patients" (who were worthy of help) and the "Uncertified" (who were inconvenient liabilities) - proved that even the definition of "victim" was dictated by Chisso's colossal budget.
To contextualize the importance of what followed, I first want to outline a few of the core societal values upheld by Japanese communities, as this will help put the ensuing development into perspective. Roughly speaking (and here I need to emphasize that I'm not Japanese nor have I ever been to Japan, so I'm absolutely receptive to corrections and criticism), these are the most fundamental pillars of the Japanese societal contract:
- "Wa" (Harmony) - The prioritization of group stability over individual needs.
- "Meiwaku" (Causing Trouble/Nuisance) - The intense social pressure to avoid burdening others.
- "Sekentei" (Appearance in the eyes of society) - The concern for how one's actions look to the "public gaze."
- "Giri" (Duty/Obligation) - The burden of debt and loyalty.
This wasn't done by "evil" people, but by normal citizens whose fear of financial loss successfully overrode centuries of cultural conditioning regarding kindness and community. From their perspective, the 4 values above were being upheld to the highest standard. From everyone else's perspective, though, these same values were weaponized.
- "Wa" - ironically weaponized to silence the victims because they were seen as a disruption to the town's harmony.
- "Meiwaku" - the victims seeking compensation were not viewed as justice-seekers, but as people causing meiwaku to the company and, by extension, the town's economy.
- "Sekentei" - to sue the company that feeds the town was considered shameful behavior that damaged the town's reputation.
- "Giri" - the unaffected people felt a massive sense of giri toward Chisso for providing jobs and infrastructure, creating a conflict of interest where loyalty to the paymaster outweighed empathy for the neighbor.
It appears that money acts as a dehumanizing agent because it abstracts human suffering into balance sheets. Anything that threatened the favorable numbers in those balance sheets was seen as a liability, completely stripping the human aspect of the situation. If this could happen in Japan - a culture that explicitly prioritizes social cohesion and harmony - what does that say about human nature globally? What chance does western society have to withstand a major disruption of that nature without completely collapsing?
Could it be, perhaps, that every human has a price where their empathy shuts off, often triggered not by the desire for luxury, but by the fear of poverty? And keep in mind - Minamata wasn't bathing in luxury and excess before Chisso showed up, but they weren't starving either.
All in all, the Minamata tragedy proves that economic dependence can weaponize a community against itself, even if that community is the product of centuries of cultural conditioning targeting kindness, empathy, and love for others.
Now I want to leave you with three main questions:
- Is money truly the root of all evil, or is it simply the most efficient tool for exposing the cracks in human morality?
- If your livelihood was threatened by a neighbor's lawsuit (even a just one), can you say with 100% certainty you wouldn't resent them?
- Is anyone immune to this corruption, or is "morality" a luxury we only uphold when we can afford it?
Thank you for reading, and may our fortune be good enough to shield us from ever having to experience such things firsthand.
With love,
Nydex
