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The absence of retention and grade-skipping in Japanese schools, coupled with the demanding nature of the math and science curriculum at the secondary school level, creates contradictory pressures on Japanese teachers to teach to the level of the average or slow learners in a class while attempting to raise the performance of all students.
Ultimately, Japanese teachers adapt to the level of students, as the following statement by a teacher indicates, "I think that every school adjusts what it teaches according to the level of the school. There are schools that do a whole lot of the curriculum and there are schools that only do the simple problems."
This comment reveals the fact that in spite of the high level attained by many Japanese students, mastery of the Monbusho curriculum is not required of all students in Japan. In fact, a common saying among educators in Japan regarding the Monbusho curriculum is "seven, five, three", meaning that 70 percent of elementary school, 50 percent of the junior high and 30 percent of the high school students can be expected to actually master the curriculum. Although many teachers and education authorities consider this an excessively extreme description, our conversations with teachers indicate that not all students are expected to master the curriculum. As noted earlier, almost all students are allowed to progress through grades and graduate with their age cohort, at either an academic or vocational high school.
In other words, in actual practice the Monbusho curriculum is one that provides standards in terms of content in contrast to one that requires a particular level of performance from all students. One teacher explained this approach: "The object of the curriculum is to give everyone exposure to the curriculum, not to demand that they have to achieve up to a certain level." This teacher's comment was typical of descriptions we encountered regarding the curriculum.
Another teacher's comments were even more unambiguous about the intent of the Monbusho curriculum. When asked, “Is the Monbusho curriculum thought of as a minimal level of mastery expected of all students? Are all the students expected to master the material in textbooks at the elementary school level?,” he responded:
Not at all! We teachers do not think that. I wonder what Monbusho is thinking. Hmmm. If Monbusho is thinking that, say, 34 out of 34 students in a class have to master the whole textbook, then that scares the hell out of me. They are only saying that it is desirable, so I make efforts in that direction. I try to find the good qualities of each child — for example, this kid is good at understanding diagrams and that kid is good at calculations. It is not possible to teach so that all kids master the curriculum 100 percent."
Standardization of education throughout the country was another reason cited by an education official for the existence of a national curriculum based on content. "Japan is a small country and when someone moves out of a prefecture or city, he or she does not need to worry about going to a different prefecture or city and having to fulfill a different set of standards." Thus, because all students are exposed to the same materials, equity is presumed. On the other hand, level of performance begins to be a critical problem when students must cope with the college entrance examinations.
The size of the private supplementary education industry in Japan has been cited as an example of "educational overheating." National data indicated an increasing rate of juku attendance at all levels and a diffusion of juku to non-metropolitan areas (Nohara, 1993). The reliance on the private sector to provide supplementary education is a consequence of the intensity of competition to pass entrance exams.
The importance of test scores in gaining entrance to good schools and access to good jobs has led to the growth of a large testing industry in Japan. Until the early 1990's, large private companies (gyosha) conducted mock examinations of all public junior high school students. With these data, the large companies were able to give students a precise estimate of their hensachi, an adjusted score from which a percentile ranking for each student could be determined. Since almost all graduating junior high school students took the tests, the large companies were able to advise students about appropriate high schools to which they should seek admission. As a result, the student's junior high school is circumvented as a source of guidance about high school entrance. Fearing that students were relying too much on these companies and the hensachi score and too little on the junior high schools, Monbusho forbade the practice of gyosha tests several years ago.
In spite of Monbusho's action restricting the gyosha tests, Japanese students continue to seek outside help in making decisions about applying to high schools. Many students still turn to juku for help in deciding what level of high school to submit an application. Large national juku chains conduct mock examinations that are similar to the gyosha tests. Since these examinations are taken by large numbers of students, the major juku chains are able to give students a good estimate of their hensachi score. Knowing the score, a student is able to estimate the likelihood of gaining acceptance to certain local high schools, although this has become more difficult because not all students take the tests.
Because of the value of the hensachi data, Japanese parents in the main research site pressured schools to come up with an alternative to the gyosha test. As a result, in Naka City, the remnants of the two largest testing companies were reconstituted into a new company. This company offers a test similar to the one that Monbusho prohibited. However, the company circumvents Monbusho restrictions by conducting the test outside of the junior high schools at large private universities or in auditoriums. Because of the valuable information such testing provides, one teacher estimated that over 85 percent of junior high school students take this reconstituted gyosha test. Information about this test is used by teachers in their recommendations for high school applications.
The difficulties presented by the entrance examinations and the math and science curriculum were cited by a number of teachers as factors in what they perceived to be an alarming movement among young people away from math and science. At universities, there has been a notable drop in students majoring in engineering and in science. At the high school level, the trend for students to take less math and science was apparent to many parents and educators (Monbusho, 1993).
"At one time only about 5 or 10 years ago," explained a teacher, "there was a 50/50 ratio of science to humanities majors. Now the ratio is 70/30 ratio in favor of humanities majors." At Meiji High School, the number of science majors dropped from 7 classes of 40 students to 3 within the past decade.
Japanese parents, teachers, and students informed us that a sudden drop in interest in math and science occurs around the eighth grade, but often as early as elementary school. These phenomena were referred to in Japanese as risubanare, or alienation from math and science. For some students, alienation from math and science is simply a matter of being more interested in other subjects, such as history or language. As one mother explained, "It's more interesting to travel the world and learn about history and culture than it is to sit in a lab and do experiments."
There may be economic reasons, as well, for risubanare. According to an education official at Naka City, "Humanities majors get better pay, and it seems that many managers and presidents of companies were humanities majors." In fact, the improving salary picture for humanities graduates in the 1980s has been cited as a major factor in the risubanare phenomenon by government analysts in Japan.
Although many students we interviewed reported disliking some science subjects, few students reported disliking all science subjects, and some of the problems with certain science subjects were related to experiences with poor teachers. Furthermore, math was one of the best-liked subjects among the Japanese students we interviewed. One junior high school girl described math as being "like a game or puzzle." Similarly, a high-achieving high school student, who in manner was quite unconventional (his hair was dyed orange and he was working part-time without the required permission from the school) stated, "I like math because there is only one correct answer."
Some teachers felt that the problem of risubanare was overstated by the mass media, which flooded Japan with stories about risubanare after a government study reported a drop in interest in science and engineering among young Japanese. Our conversations with students suggest that the problem may not be as grave as feared.
However, even those with a more optimistic viewpoint conceded that dislike of math and science among students is a problem. In the words of a junior high school principal:
There are lots of students who do not like math or science. I think part of the problem is that there is such a gap between the junior high school and senior high school curriculum. Also, there are not enough opportunities for junior and senior high school math teachers to coordinate instruction. Also, there is not enough time for drills. There is a time when students need to be forced to do drills. If at that time you don't force students to do drills and only emphasize thinking and conceptualization, they end up falling behind. Strength in math, like English, comes from drills. Comparing textbooks of today to those ten years ago, I sense that there is less substance to the textbooks today.
Further, the concern is that students who do not like math or science become teachers who do not like math or science, thereby perpetuating a vicious circle. As one math teacher said:
If the teachers dislike math, it is very difficult to communicate good uses of math. We emphasize the importance of this point often in the training of new teachers. If a teacher does not have enthusiasm for math, he or she cannot be an effective teacher. 'Heart' and 'spirit' are important in teaching.
Although national standards in Japan help ensure that all students in compulsory education have similar opportunities to learn, they cannot guarantee equality of outcome. Indeed, many Japanese parents and educators perceived significant differences in outcomes between schools as early as elementary school, and the differences became more pronounced at the junior and senior high school levels.
The contrasts between Chuo and Shimogawa Junior High and between Arata and Meiji Senior High Schools illustrate the importance of social class in Japanese society. Japanese parents and teachers overwhelmingly perceived important social class differences in ability to provide home support for academic achievement, and cited social class as a major factor in Japanese students' academic achievement. This perception is illustrated in the comments of a Japanese principal when asked if he perceived a relationship between parental socioeconomic status and academic achievement:
This is a difficult question. Hmmm. It depends on what sort of ability you are talking about. But if it is the ability to take entrance examinations, then I think that there is a relationship. Some parents send their children to juku. They hire home tutors and force the children to study. Families without economic power cannot do this. Also, I think this is important. Let’s say the Boston Symphony came. Families with high economic power are after all high in cultural sophistication, too. So when there is that kind of entertainment, those families bring their children along. Therefore, these children naturally become highly cultured. This is a big plus for children from families with economic power.
Many Japanese parents and teachers also said that they felt socioeconomic differences have been getting wider since the 1980s and that inequality has increased in Japanese society. One high school principal said that he sensed Japanese society was becoming more stratified by social class, with highly educated parents passing on opportunities for higher education to their children. A working class mother of a high school student echoed the principal's fear:
The way it looks now, it is impossible to keep up by just going to school. One needs to go to juku nowadays. That is all right for students from families with money, but if you don't have money, unless you exert an enormous amount of effort, it is very difficult. I wonder if the system has to be such that it is sustained by family economic power, or could there be something different.
The role of juku in creating inequality in Japanese society was also criticized by an education official at Naka City:
You can tell the difference between children who go to juku and the children who do not. Since children are doing the same work in school whether they go to juku or not, and have a knowledge-based education up to this point, those who practice are stronger. If we look at the results, those who learned something already, perform better in school. So, if our criterion is performance, then those who go to juku do better. We try our best to prevent this from happening. So we would rather not be oriented toward results. We should try to work with the family to motivate children to learn. Children who get the correct answers without thinking much and who do not like math — these students don't understand the fun of mathematics. The new curriculum wants to show those who have such understanding. We want to convince parents that it is actually a loss to go to juku, but it is very difficult to convince parents.
Many Japanese believe that education is more highly emphasized by people living in certain prefectures than others. Indeed, there are significant differences in academic outcomes among prefectures. In 1993, for example, 33.5 percent of Tokyo high school graduates advanced to 4-year colleges versus 23.4 percent for those in Fukushima Prefecture (Trelfa, 1994).
The proportion of students who attend juku also differs greatly between urban and rural areas, and there are fewer juku in rural areas than in urban ones. This disparity has an impact on instruction in schools. In areas where there are not many juku, teachers must provide extra instruction for college aspirants:
In our case, if you look at the school system and juku in the area and in cities like Tokyo, there are many juku. The schools don't have to do anything. But here in the outlying regions, there are juku, but it takes money and the schools take on some of the role of the juku.
This role includes setting up classes after school that prepare students for entrance examinations. But even with this extra help from public schools, students from areas where large national juku chains have not established branches are clearly at a disadvantage in studying for entrance examinations. One high school teacher in Kita City talked about a student from a rural region in the prefecture who came to study at his school. The teacher was impressed by this boy who had studied hard on his own, although "there were no universities or bookstores in his area of residence."
Monbusho exerts a powerful influence over every aspect of education in Japan and the Monbusho curricular guidelines are a central ingredient of that influence. In accord with Monbusho policy, the Monbusho curriculum serves both as a national standard and as a way to encourage equality of opportunity. Policies promoting equality are evident in prohibitions against tracking during compulsory education, the rarity of retention, the prohibition against skipping grades, a reluctance to report I.Q. test scores to parents, and the pressure to stay within the curriculum on the entrance examinations.
The Japanese have created a system of national standards through the Monbusho curriculum which sets a standard for the content of instruction rather than a standard which defines a particular level of performance. Teachers reported that few students who fail to reach minimal standards are denied graduation as long as they exhibit effort. As a result, nearly all Japanese graduate from high school although education is compulsory only through junior high school.
Competition to enter higher ranked schools through an entrance examination system, whether they are senior high schools or universities, serve to raise standards of performance. Constant testing throughout junior and senior high school train Japanese students to be expert test-takers. Many parents and teachers whom we interviewed reported that the pressure on Japanese children for higher performance comes largely from parents and students, not the Monbusho curriculum or education authorities.
The elementary school curriculum was perceived as being relatively easy, and strong social, cultural, and family support for education ensures that many Japanese students enter school ready to learn. However, the junior and senior high school curricula become increasingly difficult in math and science as well as other subjects. Math and science standards are high: even vocational high school students, who follow the least rigorous academic curriculum among Japanese students, are exposed to calculus by the twelfth grade. The system of entrance examinations for high school and college provides an important source of motivation for Japanese students to study and master the curriculum.
Japanese schools make efforts to meet the needs of average and slower students in regular classes. Simplified instruction, clear and simple sets of problems, lengthy explanations, and additional instruction are among the ways that Japanese teachers try to meet the needs of the slower students. In contrast, there are no programs for gifted students in the Japanese public schools.
[Chapter 3 - Individual Differences and the Japanese Educational System (Part 1 of 5)]