Articles Written By: emae2021@pomona.edu

What’s Next for Japan?

PepperJapan may be the economic canary in the coal mine, Matt Sanders ’00 believes. And at the same time, it may already be transforming itself into the economy of tomorrow.

Once a powerhouse, Japan’s economy has struggled for the past 30 years. Much of that sluggish growth, says Sanders—the founder and president of East Gate Advisors, a U.S.-Japan business advisory firm—can be attributed to demographics. “Japan leads the world in its aged population, and there’s also the fact that the Japanese population has actually been in decline for seven years,” he says. Add to that the tendency for Japanese women to quit the workplace after they marry, and you have a declining number of workers supporting an increasingly expensive non-working population.

But with populations aging throughout the developed world and automation displacing more and more human workers, Sanders thinks other societies—including ours—may soon be in the same predicament. If so, he says, the liabilities that have hindered Japan’s progress may also be transforming it into the economy of the future.

That’s because the Japanese are integrating technology in general—and robotics in particular—into their society at a rate that Americans find mystifying. Americans remain leery about interacting with robots, but the Japanese have welcomed them enthusiastically.

Sanders points to the proliferation in Japan of such robots as Aibo, the cute little robotic dog; Asimo and Pepper, anthropomorphic robots designed to act like humans; and Paro, a cuddly robotic baby seal designed to work as a kind of therapy animal with dementia patients. These may seem like curiosities now, but in a world where fewer people are working and more people need care, such technologies may soon be necessities. “In the U.S., the lack of consumer and general public acceptance has a real tendency to hold that technology back in integrating into society, and that’s where you can see the Japanese sort of charging ahead,” Sanders says.

The resulting transformation of Japanese society, he says, will be just one more in a long line of periodic transformations. “Japan stays exactly the same for a long, long time, until some sort of event happens. And then it changes really quickly, like right before your eyes, overnight and radically. The place will stay exactly the same for 50 years, 100 years, 200 years. Then suddenly, something happens, and boom—it’s unrecognizable the next day.”

Previous (Mexico)

Next (The United States)

What’s Next for Mexico

Andres Manuel Lopez ObradorWith the July 1 election of Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador (widely known by his initials, AMLO) as president, Mexico stands at a historic turning point, one that leaves Professor of Latin American Studies Miguel Tinker Salas cautiously optimistic about the prospect for real change.

“This represents a collapse of the existing political structure, led by the National Action Party [PAN] and the Party of the Institutionalized Revolution [PRI],” he explains. “It represents a rejection of their policies and of the U.S.-imposed war on drugs, and it speaks to the need most Mexicans feel for a fundamental change in their society.”

As an election observer, Tinker Salas says he saw blatant election fraud, but this time, the outrage over rampant corruption and desire for change were too strong for the two parties that have held power for the past 82 years to quash.

Among other things, AMLO has promised a major shift in the nation’s war on drugs—which has left more than 200,000 people dead and 30,000 disappeared in recent years—even proposing an amnesty for those not involved in violent crimes. He’s also pledged to defend Mexican immigrants in the U.S. and to revisit the controversial energy reforms of his predecessor. To show accountability, he’s vowed to offer himself up for a recall vote halfway through his six-year term.

Though AMLO has been labeled a leftist by his opponents, Tinker Salas believes the charge is bogus.

“Comparisons to Chávez in Venezuela or Correa in Ecuador or Morales in Bolivia are facile. They’re intended to inflame the political debate. AMLO was a member of the PRI, the dominant party. He attempted to reform the dominant party. Unable to, he joined other forces in forming the PRD, the Party of the Democratic Revolution, ran for office twice, with some very strong evidence of fraud against him.

“This time,” he adds, “indignation defeated fear.”

Previous (Syria)

Next (Japan)

What’s Next for Syria?

What’s Next For Syria?Predicting the future in a conflict as multi-faceted as the Syrian Civil War is daunting, and Politics Professor Mietek Boduszynski says his thoughts on the matter have shifted several times, including last May, when the United States pulled out of the Iran nuclear deal.

With that decision, the former U.S. diplomat believes, President Trump may have ratcheted up the chances of a military confrontation between Iran and Israel that might complicate his future policy options in Syria.

“One way it might play out,” he says, “is that Iran—which has wound down some of its proxy forces since the defeat of the Islamic State—may feel it has nothing to lose in expanding activities in Syria, which would alarm Israel. So Israel continues to drop bombs and maybe moves to something more, such as special forces, and then it escalates from there. And the ultimate escalation would be if Hezbollah, operating out of Syria, fired a long-range missile that hit an Israeli target and killed lots of civilians. You can imagine what would happen then.”

Previous (Revolutions)

Next (Mexico)

What’s Next in Revolutions?

What’s Next in Revolutions?Where in the world will the next revolution happen? And what will it look like? These are questions Associate Professor of Sociology Colin Beck thinks about a lot. The author of Radicals, Revolutionaries and Terrorists is now at work with five other scholars on a new book titled Rethinking Revolutions, and last fall, three of his coauthors joined him at Pomona for a panel session called “The Future of Revolutions.” As part of that event, Beck asked each of them to make a prediction as to where the next revolution will unfold.

Some of the answers surprised even Beck.

The first to hazard a guess was George Lawson of the London School of Economics, who settled, provocatively, on a country that seems like the height of iron-fisted control—China. “China has more collective action events, more protests, than any other society in the world on a yearly basis,” Beck explains. “Most of them are local, anti-corruption protests against local corrupt elites. But George made a really good point—that one of the more robust findings in revolutions research is that, to the extent that a regime becomes personalized, as it becomes invested in a single individual as an expression of power, it also becomes more vulnerable, because it creates a target for people to impose their grievances on. So as Xi Jinping moves toward a much more personalist rule and away from the Politburo, away from the bureaucracy, that creates a potential danger in the years to come.”

Second up, Daniel Ritter of Stockholm University shifted the focus to the oil-rich kingdom of Saudi Arabia. “Another consistent finding in revolutions research is that revolutions are often catch-up events,” Beck says. “They’re taking societies that have not kept up with modernity and thrusting them into it. So as Saudi Arabia is trying to modernize its government and liberalize somewhat its society, they may actually be fueling the potential for mass protest.”

A third scholar, Sharon Erickson Nepstad of the University of New Mexico, refused to speculate about the next revolution. Instead, she made a suggestion about where it won’t be—the protest-torn state of Venezuela. “Because everyone would think that would be the place, right?” Beck says. “She’s done a lot of work on peace movements and the like, and she looks at the situation in Venezuela and thinks the opposition there hasn’t done the hard work of mobilizing that a successful movement needs to do. They haven’t built the organizational infrastructure. It’s not deeply rooted enough in society.”

Beck himself isn’t so sure, however. “The Venezuelan government shoots people dead in the streets,” he notes, “and shooting people dead in the streets is generally a losing strategy. I mean, it’s a successful short-term strategy but a poor long-term strategy—unless you shoot a lot of people down in the streets. Then it works, as terrible as that sounds.”

And what was Beck’s pick for the next revolution? “I decided that I would, provocatively, say what the political scientists are starting to call ‘the illiberal democracies’—Hungary, Turkey, Poland, Russia,” he says. “Turkey, in particular, is really setting itself up for a challenge. There’s a lot of concern right now about the illiberal democracies, and maybe this is the way of the future, but I think human rights, democracy—they’re too widely legitimated. They’re too embedded in normative consciousness globally for them to erode that quickly. Which means that these countries are going against the grain, and they’re creating the contradictions that can fuel future protest.”

There were two points, however, upon which all four scholars agreed.

First, most revolutions are likely to follow the same nonviolent path as the Arab Spring—unarmed civil protests as opposed to violent insurgencies—at least for now. “There’s definitely been this shift from the kind of mid-20th-century communist guerilla warfare model towards this kind of Berlin Wall-Arab Spring model,” Beck says. He wonders, however, how long that will last, given the fact that so many recent examples have ended in failure.

Their second point of agreement was surprising, given the usual narrative about the Arab Spring. “My colleagues and I all pretty much agreed that the effect of social media on revolutions has been overstated,” he says. “The thing I like to think about is that the biggest day of protests in Egypt happened the day after the Mubarak regime shut off the Internet. And the reason that was the biggest day of protests was because the Muslim Brotherhood decided to turn out, and the Muslim Brotherhood has a traditional form of grassroots organization.”

All of these speculations were intended to be a kind of engaging thought experiment, Beck says, adding the disclaimer that predictions of this sort are really little more than educated guesswork. He points to recent events in Armenia, where protests unexpectedly brought about a sudden change of leadership. “A few weeks ago, George wrote all of us to note that no one had mentioned Armenia at all,” he says. “It’s too soon to say what will happen there, but we saw the model again—protest and elite negotiation to force a change in who is in power. And none of us saw it coming.”

Next (Syria)

Solving the Mystery of Clark I-III-V

 


Generations of North Campus residents have wondered: “Why Clark I, III and V?”

This basic site plan, which appeared in the program of the 1929 building dedication for Clark I and Frary Dining Hall, provides the answer. When architect Sumner Spaulding was hired in 1926 to design what was to be known then as the “men’s campus,” his proposal included four dormitories and a refectory, assembly hall, lounge and office—a total of eight buildings. As seen here, each was assigned a number.

Only the first two phases of the project were completed, however—Clark I and Frary Dining Hall in fall 1929, and Clark III and Clark V in fall 1930. The numbers appear to have been simply for reference purposes. Over the years, more than a few creative theories have been spun to explain the absence of a Clark II and IV, but, as often happens, the truth is far simpler and more mundane than might have been hoped. The dormitories were named in honor of trustee and donor Eli P. Clark. Frary Hall, gift of trustee George W. Marston, was named for Lucien H. Frary, former pastor of Pilgrim Congregational Church.

A Leg Up for Bikes

ofo

In the competition between bikes and skateboards to be the top means of foot-powered transportation on campus, bikes just got a big leg up (so to speak).

In February, Pomona College and the dockless bike-sharing company ofo rolled out the firm’s first college pilot program in California. Founded in 2014, ofo is the world’s first and largest station-free bicycle-sharing platform. To date, the firm has connected over 200 million global users with more than 10 million bikes in 20 countries.

What makes this bike-sharing program unique is that ofo’s signature yellow bikes are unlocked by way of a smartphone. They can be shared among riders and parked at any bike rack on the campuses of The Claremont Colleges. To celebrate the February launch of the partnership, all rides for students, faculty and staff were free during the bike-sharing program’s first two weeks of operation.

Pomona College Assistant Director of Sustainability Alexis Reyes sees these bikes as a key tool for the community. “As a top performer in sustainability, Pomona is always looking for ways to support opportunities for low or zero-emission commuting,” says Reyes. “Adding ofo’s services to our resources available to our students, faculty and staff helps Pomona on its quest to become carbon-neutral by 2030.”

Pomona Rewind: 80 Years Ago

Four score years ago, the sciences were alive and well at Pomona, as evidenced by these brief stories from the mid-1930s.

 

20,000 Year-Old Sloth Poop

20,000 Year-Old Sloth PoopPomona professors Jerome D. Laudermilk and Philip A. Munz made headlines after traveling to the Grand Canyon to study a rare find: 20,000-year-old giant-sloth dung. According to an article in the Sept. 20, 1937, issue of Life magazine, the dung covered the floor of a cave believed to be home to giant ground sloths, which waddled on two legs and could grow as large as elephants. Laudermilk and Munz hoped to uncover the sloths’ diet and what it might reveal about plant and climate conditions of the era.

 

Shark Embalming 101

Shark Embalming 101As a Pomona student, the late Lee Potter ’38 had a simple plan to pay his way through college: sell his skills embalming animals. Potter, a pre-med student, had more than four years of embalming experience by the time the LA Times profiled him on June 1, 1937. He embalmed fish, frogs, rats, earthworms, crayfish and sharks and sold them to schools for anatomical study in their labs. His best seller: sharks—once, he sent an order of 200 embalmed sharks to a nearby college. His ultimate goal was to embalm an elephant.

 

Crime Lab Pomona

 Crime Lab PomonaIn August 1936, a Riverside woman named Ruth Muir was found brutally murdered in the San Diego woods, and the case ignited a media frenzy. A suspect claiming he “knows plenty” about Muir’s murder was found with 20 hairs that appeared to belong to a woman. In their rush to test whether the hairs were Muir’s, police turned to an unlikely source to conduct the analysis—Pomona College. Though the hairs do not seem to have matched Muir’s in the end, at least we can say: For a brief moment, Pomona operated a crime lab.

Failing Better

In its first year, Pomona’s Humanities Studio will take as its inaugural theme a line from Samuel Beckett, “Fail Better,” according to its founding director, Kevin Dettmar, the W.M. Keck Professor of English.

Each year the program will bring together a select group of faculty, postdoctoral and student fellows in the humanities for a year of engaged intellectual discussion and research on interdisciplinary topics of scholarly and public interest. Programming will also include visiting speakers, professional development workshops and other community events.

Dettmar said the theme honors the late Arden Reed, professor of English, who spoke on the topic last year. Reed’s career, Dettmar notes, “was anything but a failure. But we will honor his memory by applying ourselves to the twin concepts of failure and its kissing cousin, error—seeking better to understand the uses of failure and the importance of error in the ecosystem of scholarly discovery. Together with the studio director, faculty and postdoctoral fellows, and a group of visiting speakers, writers and thinkers, Humanities Studio undergraduate fellows will take a deep dive into failure, to bring back the treasures only it has to offer.”

Bug Hunters

Bug Hunters

Last October, biology major Hannah Osland ’20 biked to the Pomona College Farm with a single mission. She would wait by the compost bins, clutching a glass jar filled with ethyl acetate gas—her “kill jar”—until she captured a yellow butterfly she had seen earlier. In total, she spent an hour looking. “I was so frustrated that this little tiny butterfly was beating me,” she says. “It’s amazing how insects will evade me.”

Osland needed to catch and identify the butterfly, known as a small cabbage white, for her Insect Ecology and Behavior class with Professor Frances Hanzawa. For their project, Osland and nine other students captured 40 unique insect specimens from at least 11 different insect orders. Twenty had to be identified down to the scientific family they belong to—a difficult task given that, as Osland tells it, “so many beetles look alike.”

For Osland and other students, the project became a constant source of fascination among friends, many of whom tried to help nab new insect species. (A point of pride among one of Osland’s friends is the grasshopper he caught for her.) Her final collection of insects included bees, ants, butterflies, grasshoppers, beetles and more. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget insect orders now,” she says. “It’s totally ingrained in my brain.”

Stray Thoughts: Kitchen Window Community

Rural AmericaMy favorite anecdote about growing up in the rural South is a childhood memory of sitting with my aunt and uncle at their red Formica kitchen table, which was strategically positioned in front of a double window looking out on the dirt road in front of their house. Each time a car or—more likely—a pickup would go by, leaving its plume of dust hanging in the air, both of them would stop whatever they were doing and crane their necks. Then one of them would offer an offhand comment like: “Looks like Ed and Georgia finally traded in that old Ford of theirs. It’s about time.” Or: “There’s that Johnson fellow who’s logging the Benton place. Wonder if he’s any kin to Dave Johnson.”

Inevitably, there would follow a speculative conversation about their neighbors’ personal and business affairs, about which they always seemed remarkably well informed. “Is her mom still in the hospital?” “I think they let her go home yesterday.” “Maybe we should take over some deviled eggs or something.”

For the most part, it was casual and benevolent. Though their nearest neighbors—my parents—lived half a mile away, beyond a screen of forest, they seemed to have a strong sense of being members of a real community where people knew each other well and looked out for one another.

Sometimes, though, a darker note would creep in. “There’s that Wheeler boy again. What’s he up to, do you reckon?” Then the conversation would turn to past misdeeds and present mistrust, accompanied by a disapproving shake of the head.

And on those rare occasions when they didn’t recognize the vehicle or driver at all, they would take special note. “Who in the world is that?” “Never saw him before.” “Wonder if he’s the fellow who bought the old Pearson place.” “What kind of truck is that?” Looking back, it seems to me now that there was always a strong note of suspicion in their voices at such moments. Here was an intruder, not to be trusted until clearly identified.

Over the years, I’ve found myself conflicted about the sense of belonging that memory evokes. There’s something compelling about that kind of attentive and caring community —something that I miss to this day. The old clichés were true—doors were never locked, and people really did show up unexpected with food when someone was sick.

But there was also something intrusive—even coercive—about it, and as I grew older, I began to understand just how closed and exclusive a community it was and how ruthlessly it enforced its unspoken rules of conformity and homogeneity.

I don’t think my parents ever felt completely a part of that community, though they lived there most of their lives. Neither did I, even as a kid. We didn’t go to church. We didn’t hunt or fish. We had strange political views. But we kept to ourselves. We didn’t make waves. And so we were accepted, if never quite assimilated.

Today, I’m a suburban Angeleno, but my roots will always be there. For years, whenever I went home to visit my parents, I was treated by the community as a prodigal son. A couple of my many cousins would drop by to ask how I was doing out there in California. The few neighbors who still knew me would wave hello as I drove by. Even though I always felt apart, I don’t suppose I’ll ever feel quite so completely at home anywhere else.

During the past year, there’s been a lot of talk about the growing cultural and political divide between urban and rural America. Despite my roots, I don’t feel qualified to comment beyond that little anecdote. The last time I visited that community was to finish preparing my parents’ house for sale. They’re both long gone, as are my aunt and uncle and almost everyone I knew as a child. I doubt I’ll ever go back. In any case, I’ve become an outsider, the kind of stranger whom people stare at from their kitchen windows and say, “Who in the world is that?”