7    Uncertainty as insecurity

Lessons on preparing for contingencies in Japan

Oscar A. Gómez

If there is a type of disaster for which the Japanese are prepared, it is earthquakes. In particular the Tohoku (northeast) region is shaken every thirty to forty years by a tremor of around 7.5 in magnitude, and since the last one was in 1978, most of its dwellers were, to a certain extent, expecting it. They did not know exactly when and where it was going to happen, but there was no doubt about its eventual occurrence. What was not known was that seemingly every thousand years a full 9.0 earthquake could trigger a massive tsunami well beyond contingency plans, and that nuclear power plants might not be ready to endure such stress.

There are plenty of ways to analyze catastrophes like this, e.g. as an engineering challenge, as an epidemiological case, as an economic shock, etc.. However one elemental view often overlooked is to study them as a case of humans facing uncertainty and the unknown. Such a perspective is important because realizing human security in a changing environment depends on the timely identification of threats so that harm can be avoided or minimized, and the uncertainty of contingencies plays against this objective. In this chapter, I use two paradigmatic emergencies that have affected modern Japan, Minamata disease in the second half of the twentieth century and the Fukushima nuclear crisis after the large earthquake in March 2011, to illustrate the connections between uncertainty and human security. This chapter argues that the human security literature needs to engage more broadly and systematically with the task of understanding the processes behind social recognition of threats, moving from plain trial and error approach to one that focuses on resilience.

The uncertainty of the threat

Uncertainty refers to the degree of incompleteness in our knowledge about, in this case, a threat. In fact, it could be said that some issues are threats precisely because of this ignorance. Rosa (cited by Renn, 2008) distinguishes two sources of this indeterminacy in terms of aleatory and epistemic uncertainty: the former refers to the inherent variability of events, similar to the fact that we never know the result of the next time we roll the dice; and the latter to a basic lack of knowledge. Thus, humans constantly strive to outwit their epistemic ignorance, yet randomness underlines the limits of this task. Renn adds that uncertainty is worsened by problems of complexity, an argument that constantly appears when talking about threats and their “non-linearity” or “tipping points,” and of ambiguity, which relates to how different people interpret certain inputs – e.g. a small tremor can be an isolated phenomenon or the precursor of a stronger one, as was famously the case in Italy in 2009. These are not mutually exclusive problems, so each threat usually presents complexity, randomness, etc. in its own mixture.

In order to deal with the dynamics of uncertainty, it is important to understand its basic characteristics. Following Kuhlicke (2010), who studies vulnerability to natural disasters, there are unexpected events that fall beyond experience, anticipation or recognition; unknown unknowns or nescience, the maximum degree of uncertainty. It is not possible a priori to deal with these threats, but once people are exposed to them, the effects can become non-knowledge, something not properly understood but which people can try to assess in order to counteract. Success turns into knowledge, yet it is also possible that some of those symptoms are noted but later disregarded, what Kuhlicke (2010: 31–32) calls negative knowledge. As a consequence, the security of individuals and communities depends on the capacity to transform nescience into non-knowledge, and then into knowledge in order to react. It is important to note that this flow is not unidirectional from unknown to known. As de Vries (2007) observes, some threats regain their capacity to surprise because people forget about the risks they represent, as seems to be the case after tsunamis in Japan, when frequency can even jump generations.

These descriptions of uncertainty highlight the deficiencies in information when identifying and prioritizing threats. Thus, an alternative to studying uncertainty is to focus on the agents in charge of processing the information. As Foucault (2007) remarked on his own explorations around security, the example of the market is useful to identify the crux of the problem. The market is the place where the truth of the price is produced, where the different factors affecting goods valuation become a single number. Yet in understanding the market, the importance is not whether the price is true or false, but the regime of veridiction that enables us to assert what is true. Similarly, a deeper understanding of human security addressing contingency could be drawn from identifying where and how the truth of the threat is realized. While it is possible to come up with generic lists of these actors and institutions, we can spot more specific places to start this aim through human security literature.

Uncertainty and the study of human security

The first generation of human security studies – i.e. from 1994 to circa 2006 – did not engage with the problem of uncertainty. The unknown was, of course, part of the original proposition of human security, implicit in the original principle of interdependency (UNDP, 1994). The idea that the consequences of insecurity “travel the globe” is partly based on our ignorance about where and who exactly is going to be affected. Nevertheless, the initial proposition of human security was already troubled with the daunting task of gaining recognition, a task for which abstract discussions do no good. So the alternative was to present the new concept using a list of threats/securities. From there on, the first generation of human security studies can be identified by their frantic argument of whether it comprised only threats related to violence or about both fear and want. The epitome of this discussion can be found in the mixed messages coming from the United Nations Intellectual History Project Series, of which the human security volume produced by MacFarlane and Khong (2006) was totally devoted to support the fear view, while one of the chairs of the project, Richard Jolly, favored the broader view (Jolly and Basu-Ray, 2007).

Since then, researchers have gradually moved away from this discussion. Through the first decade of the twenty-first century very dissimilar threats have made it to the top of the security agenda, irrespective of the abovementioned intellectual impasse. Be it a pandemic disease, an unusually powerful hurricane, a terrorist attack, or an oil spill, emerging threats have shaken actors around the world and motivated priority of action within and beyond politics. Therefore, human security researchers have had to reconsider their question. One alternative is present in 2009 Thailand’s human security report (UNDP, 2010), which devotes half of its effort to identify threats that are not currently critical in the country but can become a priority in the near future. Another notable example is the work of Mary Kaldor (2007) which concentrates on rethinking the traditional security apparatus in a way that is flexible enough to react to multifarious crises – whatever those crises are.

Work promoted by the UN University Institute for Environment and Human Security, as well as the work of Leichenko and O’Brien (2008; Leichenko and O’Brien 2007) are notable examples of places to start a formal analysis on the problem posed by uncertainty. After its creation, the UNU-EHS devoted its initial research to the connection between its two pillar concepts using the literature on vulnerability and risk. The study of both concepts takes into consideration the incompleteness of knowledge and the importance of social interaction when making decisions. Leichenko and O’Brien (2008) add to this a framework in terms of “double exposures”, which analyzes the interaction of multiple variables in the emergence of catastrophic threats to humanity.

While the work of Leichenko and O’Brien (2008) is more concerned with the interaction of globalization and global environmental change, they provide a precious insight into the question of dealing with uncertainty by pointing out Amartya Sen’s differentiation of opportunity and process aspects of freedom (1999, 2002). Recently, Sen himself (2009) has made explicit the connection of process and human security, equating it to his famous finding about famine prevention. That is, when Sen claims that no famines have taken place in a functioning democracy with active opposition parties and a free press, he is pointing out the importance of the processes behind threat recognition, even over variables that seem intuitively more related to a famine – e.g. droughts and price hikes. But are these two institutions, democracy and a free press, enough for other threats? Can we use emerging threats to broaden the spectrum of essential security processes? Observe, for instance, that for Kaldor (2007) it is not democracy but a legitimate political authority that it is more important in the short term to actualize human security. Satisfactory answers to such questions are beyond the reach of this chapter, yet in the remaining pages I point out some attractive overtures for future studies.

Before that, one methodological comment: Sen makes clear that there are two components of the process aspect of freedom: personal and systemic (1999). The former refers to processes inside an individual’s sphere and the latter to the general institutions of society. These two are interrelated because some personal processes may reflect social institutions, while persons may also have the opportunity to influence the system, yet the study of each of these requires different methodologies. In the following pages I adopt a systemic approach, drawing on a meta-analysis of the lessons from contingency cases in Japan. Such an approach has to be complemented with a personal viewpoint (see Kuhlicke (2010)), which stresses the agency of people confronting threats, and thus balances the patronizing nuance of protective security with considerations of autonomy and empowerment.

Pollution strikes: Minamata disease

As the first “developmental state,” Japan presented some of the most acute environmental problems related to industrialization during the last century. Minamata disease is one of the four big pollution diseases of Japan, which hit the archipelago starting in the 1950s, leading to the creation of the environment as a field of study and a branch of government, a movement that gradually disseminated worldwide. Minamata disease is the result of methyl-mercury poisoning through the consumption of contaminated fish, affecting principally the central nervous system. The pollutant produces chronic and acute effects, as well as teratogenic sequels – namely, cerebral palsy – greatly enlarging the magnitude of the harm. The cause of the Minamata outbreak was the effluent of a local acetaldehyde plant, indiscriminately poured into the city’s bay, where local fishermen got their catch. Initially, cats started dying, and then several residents, mostly fishermen, were admitted to local hospitals, presenting poor motor coordination, sensory disturbances in the extremities, and the loss of speech and hearing capacity. As the intoxication worsened, those symptoms intensified, with the patient’s condition deteriorating until death.

The government acknowledged the outbreak in May 1956, and this led to the formation of research teams and mediating commissions, as well as mobilization by victims. But the protest was appeased in 1959 through paltry payments to patients and fishermen, while the cause of the ailment remained unaddressed, precisely because of the uncertainty surrounding it (JICA, 2005). However, after a second outbreak in Niigata in 1965, manipulation of the research in the initial phase was revealed and social movements regained their vigor. A lawsuit was filed in 1967 by Niigata patients, and a ruling was won in 1971; Minamata patients filed their case in 1969 and the verdict was rendered in 1973. In Niigata, 690 persons were certified and compensated, and 2,265 in Minamata. The story is far from over, since the process of patient certification presents multiple complications, but the elements so far presented are enough for the analysis here.

One of the most detailed accounts of the events surrounding Minamata disease is framed in terms of democracy: George’s “Minamata: Pollution and the Struggle for Democracy in Postwar Japan” (2001) makes explicit how difficult it could be for a vulnerable population to gain recognition while the priority of the state is elsewhere. The work of George confirms Sen’s conclusion over the importance of democracy, and shows how it was inhibited in Minamata. Locally, the company that owned the acetaldehyde plant was too big to fail – in 1954 it accounted for 45.5 percent of the city’s total tax income (George, 2001: 35) – so patients could not get recognition, while nationally, opposition parties did not make use of the disease issue to generate action. In this sense, George notes the failure of Japanese newspapers to raise general attention, which either ignored the issue or took a “neutral” stance, benefiting the company. Under such conditions, the meaning of democracy overlaps with Kaldor’s (2007) legitimate political authority, which allows patients to fight for recognition, a struggle that becomes the turning point for threat recognition, even if it is ad hoc as George concludes. In the end, the movement produced deep changes in the Japanese system – i.e. the official concern for the environment – and elsewhere.

Nonetheless, the other institution highlighted by Sen (1999), the free press, needs to be reframed broadly to reflect the experience in Minamata. There the bigger picture of the struggle was hindered and resolved by different means of communicating the truth of the threat. On the one hand, central to the fifteen-year delay in recognizing the gravity of the situation was the uncertainty of the disease’s cause. The scientific establishment was co-opted to favor confusion, with Tokyo professors and ministries advancing hypotheses about the cause of the disease unrelated to the company, thus preventing intervention in the plant, while local experts were deemed unscientific by academic elites (George, 2001: 45–70). Expert knowledge generated in situ was a moral support for the struggle, arguably a must for modern technologically-influenced threats, but it was not enough. On the other hand, Minamata disease is renowned for its photographs (Smith and Smith, 1975), among other artistic records, which helped raise the issue among the national and international public through pamphlets and other means. In short, the process of modern threat identification and prioritization goes beyond the free press, encompassing the society’s complete knowledge apparatus, of which the arts play an important role.

There are at least two other processes shaping the reaction to uncertainty that deserve to be mentioned briefly. First, it is outstanding that patients wait for more than ten years before considering legal action. Traditionally in Japan, the courts have been seen as an external institution, so conflicts tend to be resolved through informal mechanisms. The case of Minamata disease suggests that threat identification does not necessarily depend on whether or not there is a functioning rule of law, but rather on the features of the actual conflict resolution mechanisms, on whether they encourage the system to react after the stress generated by new threats. If a company can pay its way out of a disease, as with the paltry payments made to the first Minamata patients, it is most likely that no new legislation or other action would be generated to address similar threats in the future.

Second, each society implicitly consents to some sacrifices in practice, for example deaths, or at least each reacts differently depending on the circumstances. Some of the patients from Minamata, mainly fishermen, resigned themselves to their disease, contemplating the idea that they were the necessary price to pay for the country’s economic success (Upham, 1976); this attitude was reinforced by the Japanese “iron triangle” in power – i.e. politicians, bureaucrats and companies – which made it very clear that GDP growth was above anything else – as stated in the first version of environmental legislation (JICA, 2005: 150–151). Literature on risk appraisal recognizes the role of values when identifying threats (Renn, 2008: 3–4), but a more specific inquiry on death and justified loss can make the analysis more accurate.

Uncertainty in Fukushima

The uncertain effects of a new pollution are threatening the Japanese archipelago once more, but this time the social interactions have been quite different. Radiation from the Fukushima power plant has reminded us that all threats are double-edged: there is the threat and the ensuing panic. It was the same for Minamata patients who did not gain support from their neighbors in part because the unknown disease made pariahs of them. Yet, after the Fukushima crisis the broader knowledge apparatus has played the expected crucial role. Because of doubts about the government’s transparency, universities and other domestic and international organizations promptly made their own radiation measurements public. One week after the earthquake, Tohoku University already had daily measurements of radiation on its home page, helping reassure the population in Miyagi, eighty kilometers away from the plant. Mass media were full of experts from different backgrounds offering different judgments about the situation, helping to recover a minimum of trust; meanwhile companies gradually made meters available for common citizens who wanted to confirm their exposure themselves. It is not surprising then to find that the most salient cases of panic were mainly in China and California. Also worth mentioning is that this time broad, long-term epidemiological follow-ups are ongoing in order to properly evaluate the effects of the exposure. A lack of such long-term epidemiological study has deeply undermined reconciliation efforts in Minamata.

Another important highlight has been the emergence of anti-nuclear social movements in Japan. While politicians find it difficult to take drastic measures given their closeness to the industry and reconstruction work, once more citizens on the streets are likely to affect the future policies of the country. These groups constantly react to news about the impacts of the disaster in Fukushima, and may guarantee that no symptom goes unnoticed. Unsurprisingly, it took la ong time before affected populations considered using courtrooms, the victims patiently waiting for the top-down calculations to take place – though concerns over the victim’s certification process were quickly voiced (Asahi Shinbun, 2011), a part of the recovery process that also critically affected reconciliation in Minamata (Harada 2004).

Finally, this time the emergency seems less prone to inflict direct casualties. Though it is too early to know the fate of the workers heavily exposed during the peak of the emergency, there is no shame on the victims’ side, and signs of stigma have been heavily criticized by the mass media. Alas, the same cannot be said about food products from the affected areas: fears keep affecting consumption but not every product can be tested; farmers and fishermen have to make a living; not to mention that low prices and the invisibility of the threat can allow unscrupulous practices. Society’s resilience has to prove its strength once more against uncertainty.

Tackling uncertainty: the process of threat recognition

The cases of Minamata and Fukushima offer precious insights about how to engage human security in the study of uncertainty and the emergence of new threats. Both cases illustrate how the unknown can hit societies and the different processes that converge while trying to regain security and find justice. It is framed in terms of processes because the novelty of the situations challenges existing divisions of labor inside society and among different knowledge branches. For instance, before Minamata the environment was not something the government and citizens had to deal with explicitly; Fukushima affected what we regard as energy security. Human security studies have to go beyond traditional threats to security, and considering the state its sole provider, to make the most of these two learning experiences.

An appealing starting point to tackle uncertainty is expanding the processes identified by Sen to prevent famine around the world: democracy and the free press. Democracy has been the major focus of attention after Minamata and Fukushima, more related to the possibility of protest than to the role of opposition parties,¹ but it is hardly the whole story of human security under pervasive uncertainty. The other process, the free press, has to be understood in a wider perspective of how society constructs knowledge, including the prominent role played by the arts and humanities. Informal conflict resolution specific to each society, as well as attitudinal change towards community development vis-àvis individual sacrifice, are other candidates for core processes behind social threat recognition. Human security researchers should take note as this may contribute to enlarging our understanding of threat identification to tackle the unknown.

References

Asahi Shinbun (2011) ‘TEPCO should cut nuclear compensation red tape’, editorial 22 September. Online. Available HTTP: http://ajw.asahi.com/article/views/editorial/AJ2011092211613 (accessed 6 October 2012).

de Vries, D.H. (2007) ‘Being temporal and vulnerability to natural disasters’, in K. Warner (ed.) Perspectives on Social Vulnerability, Bonn: UNU-EHS.

Foucault, M. (2007) Nacimiento de la biopolítica [The birth of biopolitics], Buenos Aires: Fondo de Cultura Económica.

George, T. (2001) Minamata: Pollution and the Struggle for Democracy in Postwar Japan, Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Harada, M. (2004) Minamata Disease, Minamata: Minamata Disease Patients Alliance.

JICA (2005) Japan’s Experiences in Public Health and Medical Systems – Towards Improving Public Health and Medical Systems in Developing Countries, Tokyo: JICA.

Jolly, R. and Basu-Ray, D. (2007) ‘Human security – national perspectives and global agendas’, Journal of International Development, 19 (4): 457–472.

Kaldor, M. (2007) Human Security. Reflections on Globalization and Intervention, Cambridge: Polity.

Kuhlicke, C. (2010) ‘The dynamics of vulnerability: some preliminary thoughts about the occurrence of “radical surprises” and a case study on the 2002 flood (Germany)’, Natural Hazards, 55 (3): 671–688.

Leichenko, R.M. and O’Brien, K.L. (2008) Double Exposure: Global Environmental Change in an Era of Globalization, New York: Oxford University Press.

MacFarlane, S.N. and Khong, Y.F. (2006) Human Security and the UN, Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press.

O’Brien, K.L. and Leichenko, R.M. (2007) Human Security, Vulnerability and Sustainable adaptation, Background paper for the UNDP Human Development Report 2007, UNDP: New York.

Renn, O. (2008) Risk Governance, London: Earthscan.

Sen, A. (1999) Development as Freedom, New York: Anchor Books.

Sen, A. (2002) Rationality and Freedom, Cambridge, MA: Belknap Harvard.

Sen, A. (2009) The Idea of Justice, Cambridge, MA: Belknap Harvard.

Smith, W.E. and Smith, A. (1975) Minamata, New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston.

UNDP (1994) Human Development Report: New Dimensions of Human Security, New York: United Nations Development Program.

UNDP (2010) Human Security, Today and Tomorrow – Thailand Human Development Report 2009, Bangkok: United Nations Development Program.

Upham, F. (1976) ‘Litigation and moral consciousness in Japan: an interpretative analysis of four Japanese pollution suits’, Law and Society Review, 10 (4): 579–619.