Reach the counter to pass us a beautifully wrapped packet of senbei (rice crackers), the elderly trader joined in our admiration for the colorful designs. Each package was tucked into traditional washi paper, which the trader said could be used again for gifts or to cover a notebook. “MottainaiShe called as we left, wiggling a finger with the stern grandmother’s perfect tone to match.
Omnipresent in everyday life, mottainai has been the essential warning for waste in Japan for centuries, representing a significant link between the article and the owner deeply rooted in Buddhist culture. By focusing on the essence of objects, he encourages people to look beyond our disposable culture and value each item independently, adding the fourth “R” of “respect” to the well-known mantra of “reduce, reuse, recycle ”.
As sustainability becomes a global goal, the nuance of mottainai provides an alternative framework for our connection to the world and the items we bring to it. While many sustainable efforts are focused on the future of the planet as a motivator, mottainai takes a close look at the articles themselves, believing that if you appreciate an article in the first place, there is no cause for it. waste.
Although I often heard the expression when teachers chastised students for leftover rice for lunch or used as a cheeky excuse from colleagues fishing for final fries from a nearby plate, I had never heard it used with the future of a blank item in mind.
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In today’s climate of environmental activism, reducing waste – be it single-use plastics, food or energy consumption – occupies an important place in collective consciousness. Admired for complex recycling systems and immaculately clean cities, Japan may appear to have successfully mastered the art of the three Rs, but this perception has created a mood of dangerous complacency. In fact, Japan is the second largest producer of plastic waste per capita in the world, producing more than the entire European Union.
Faced with this global crisis, the value of a single word like mottainai could easily be discounted, but its continued prevalence in daily life in Japan is considered by some to be a powerful tool ready to be exploited.
“The concept of mottainai is rooted in Japanese culture, but recently there has been a tendency not to care,” said Tatsuo Nanai, head of the official MOTTAINAI campaign. The NGO was launched following the visit of Kenyan environmentalist Warangi Maathai, Nobel Prize winner in 2005, with the aim of revitalizing the concept. “She knew mottainai and she was very impressed with the concept,” said Nanai, “because it says so much more than just one word.”
Mottainai’s potential power lies in its complex meaning, which is inspired by ancient Buddhist beliefs. “Mottai comes from the Buddhist word which refers to the essence of things. It can be applied to everything in our physical world, showing that objects do not exist in isolation but are connected to each other, “said Nanai, adding that” “-nai” is a negation, so “mottainai” becomes a expression of sadness at the loss of the link between two entities, living and non-living. “
The mottainai concept is rooted in Japanese culture, but recently there has been a tendency not to care
The bond between the owner and the object is a fundamental element of Japanese culture, which is reflected in everything from the traditional restorative art of kintsugi to the spark of joy sought by the famous organizer Marie Kondo. Visitors can spot a delicately repaired bowl at a tea ceremony or stumble across one of the annual festivals held to give thanks for second-hand items. “When things can no longer be used, we always say”otsukaresama-deshita! “ for them; it means “thank you for your hard work,” said Nanai. A good example is hari-kuyo ceremonies, where broken sewing needles are removed and placed in soft tofu at a dark memorial to thank them for their service.
In a world of mass production and consumption, however, these links with objects are difficult to maintain, which highlights our increased distance from the environment on which we rely. “People thought we were separated from forests and oceans, that we were superior to nature, but the environmental crisis has raised our awareness to the reality that we are part of nature,” said Nanai.
In a country facing frequent and increasingly serious natural disasters, the gravity of this separation is keenly felt. This connection to the planet was brought to light by Maathai as she traveled the world, taking with her the message of mottainai. In a speech at the launch of the United Nations Human Rights Council in 2006, she illustrated the link between human rights and environmental conservation, citing the greed of the limited resources of Earth as the “root cause of most conflicts”. Subsequently, she recalled her trip to Japan, where she discovered the mottainai and the lesson that it can “be thankful, not waste and appreciate limited resources”.
Thanks to Maathai, the Nanai campaign team and Japanese expatriate communities, the concept of mottainai is slowly spreading around the world. Vietnam organizes an annual mottainai festival, while the Little Tokyo district of Los Angeles has chosen it as the theme of their 2016 regeneration project.
It is therefore not surprising that this year’s Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics are used to highlight sustainability and, more specifically, its Mottainai version. In addition to the use of renewable energies, using existing stadiums and transport systems as well as carbon offset plans, two very visible symbols will be displayed: the ceremonial podiums will be made from recycled plastic from all over Japan ; while the 5,000 medals will be made from 100% recycled metals, carefully extracted from electronic devices donated by members of the public. By using personal items rather than industrial or commercial sources, each donation allows former owners of the electronics to feel a sense of contribution to the medals and to the event as a whole.
But if international awareness of the concept is a priority, a generational divide around the mottainai must be resolved if it is to regain its influence in Japan.
Given the societal changes in Japan over the last century – from world wars to vast technological advances – associate professor Misuzu Asari of the Graduate School of Global Environmental Studies at Kyoto University notes that “many older people experience poverty through their experiences during and after the war, and learned mottainai the hard way. However, the younger generations lived in the era of material abundance, so there is a big gap between the elderly and the young. She explains that while the disconnection of the younger generations from the intrinsic value of an item could have created a more minimalist lifestyle, it has instead led to mass consumption, the items being ignored and easily replaced.
Aiming to change this, the MOTTAINAI campaign focuses on children and their families. In addition to the frequent MOTTAINAI flea markets held across Tokyo to sell second-hand goods, the campaign also organizes children’s markets – allowing children to sell and buy toys and clothes. “Children are the key,” said Nanai, showing photos of a recent market held in Tokyo. “They know their future will be threatened, so we have to help them as best we can.” With no parents allowed and a limit of 500 yen (£ 3.50), the markets are designed to teach children not only the value of money, but also the alternatives for throwing away old items.
With population growth and scarcity of resources around the world, wisdom, culture and technology will be essential to survive.
A more extreme version of the mottainai spirit is found in Shikoku, the fourth largest island in Japan, where children are at the heart of a small town’s mission to become zero waste by 2020. Kamikatsu has stated his goal in 2003 and works with families and schools offer alternatives to landfill. The president of the board of directors, Akira Sakano, showed me a deck of cards which she designed for local children during my visit in December. “We give them five options for saving waste: starting with reuse, then repairing, reusing, recycling and rotting. Of course, you can’t always save the item, so we have two extras: go to the landfill or refuse the item in the first place. “
The latter option, she said, is the key to her message when it comes to reducing waste. “By refusing, it’s similar to mottainai, but it’s more like how you can come up with a new idea not to use the product at first.” From promises to give up fast food toys to the suggestion of reusable bottles, the local kids who participated clearly took the message to heart.
The city also has a complex 45-part recycling system and a kuru-kuru swap-shop, which has so far found new homes for more than 11 tonnes of items and is running a reorientation craft project. Now recycling more than 80% of its waste, the city is on track to reach its zero waste objective and welcomes interns and visitors from Japan and abroad to share what they have learned.
“With the growth of the population and the scarcity of resources in the world, wisdom, culture and technology will be essential to survive,” said Asari. From the beautiful paper that now covers my notebooks to recycled medals to be put back on the plastic podiums, the link between people, objects and the world we share has never been so important.
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