SUSTAINABILITY/ECOLOGY
REEDOCATE ME! ON THE ART OF TRANSFORMATION
In the 9th century, extensive forest clearing in Central America causes drops in precipitation and a catastrophic drought, leading to the collapse of the highly developed Mayan culture. On Easter Island in the 13th century, major deforestation brings about soil erosion, and food shortages ultimately cause the collapse of the entire island’s native culture.1 Although there are numerous cases throughout history of civilisations collapsing due to environmental destruction, examples of successful transformation are much harder to find. One such example is the Japanese Edo period. For 250 years, Japan successfully managed its economy without any external supply of energy and resources. Based on the historical model of the Edo period, the interdisciplinary symposium ReEDOcate ME!, which took place in January 2022 at the Akademie der Künste and the GoetheInstitut Tokyo, examined the scope for conceptualising and shaping ecological transformation.
Christian Tschirner
Act in a way, writes Hans Jonas in his 1979 book The Imperative of Responsibility, that the implications of your actions are compatible with the permanence of real human life on Earth. Over forty years later, five years after the signing of the Paris Climate Agreement, it is now evident that, in terms of a response to the environmental crisis, the adopted measures are neither sufficient nor are they even being implemented. Despite the realisation that our civilisation is at stake, there is an enormous gap between knowledge and action. And although the arts, with their broad societal influence, could have an important role to play in this process, the necessary transformation processes are slow to get off the ground. The title of the symposium plays on the term re-education, the programme initiated by the United States government after the Second World War, which sought to use education, art, literature, and entertainment to attain an intellectual denazification of Germany (and Japan). Cultural programmes such as podium discussions, film screenings, radio dramas, and travelling exhibitions were employed to displace authoritarian, racist attitudes and draw on humanistic traditions in order to stimulate a positive relationship to democracy. The only way to save ourselves, according to the theory, is through a fundamental process of relearning and rethinking that also aims to radically transform our day-to-day
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culture. But what role could the arts play in this process? The unique Japanese path of the Edo period began in the 17th century. At the time, Japan increasingly perceived the colonial ambitions of the major European powers as a threat, and a rebellion of Christian farmers and Samurai in 1639 provided the justification for a ban on Christianity and a prohibition on all contact with the outside world. This draconian self-isolation combined with a feudal construction boom led not just to an acute lack of energy and resources: brought on by large-scale forest clearing, flooding, drought, and food shortages became an increasingly common occurrence.2 For Japanese society, this marks the beginning of an experiment. Starting in the mid-18th century and powered by the widespread use of fossil fuels, the industrialisation of the Western world heralded a radical change for humanity, but Japan asserted its independence by forgoing the external supply of energy and resources. Because the islands of Japan have no significant coal reserves, this meant operating almost exclusively on the power of the sun. Other than iron and a few other metals, only sustainable, plantbased materials were used, the production rate of which is limited by the natural growth of plants, meaning there was never a surplus of material. Thus, long before such concepts become commonplace in the West, the solu-
tion developed during the Edo period was an elaborate system of recycling and repair. At the same time, a dedicated reforestation and soil-enrichment programme began, under which the feudal government collaborated with private forestry companies in a kind of joint venture.3 Despite a relatively high population density (approximately twice as high as today’s worldwide population density), Japan succeeded in expanding the forested areas on the islands and increasing the soil yields of farmland. And although there were recurring episodes of famine due to crop failures, the overall standard of living and quality of life in Japan was higher than that of other Asian or Western countries. Fuelled by the increases in agricultural productivity, an extremely vibrant urban culture developed. The literacy rate was also significantly higher than that of European countries of the time, and skilled crafts flourished along with the arts,4 resulting in the creation of products of the Edo culture that, to this day, are considered archetypally Japanese. The origin of these products is in the acute shortage of resources: tatami mats, kimonos, paper walls, and even sushi, bear witness to the need to conserve resources and save energy in everyday life. The Japan of the Edo period was an agricultural society. Obviously, it is neither possible nor desirable to return to a pre-industrial form of society. However, it is also
