The “Useless Muscles” Debate: Why Must Muscles Be Justified in Japan?

Defeat and the Shock of Overwhelming Physicality

The average height of Japanese men in 1945, when the Pacific War ended, compared to that of men in Britain, America, and Australia, was roughly 15 centimeters (5.9 in).

To visualize this height difference realistically, I’ll apply it to my own height. I’m 178 centimeters (5 ft 10.08 in) tall, so adding 15 centimeters makes me 193 centimeters (6 ft 3.98 in). Even to me, that’s a giant I’d have to look up to.

During my student days, I practiced judo for a period. Even when facing an opponent just 5 centimeters taller than me—around 183 centimeters (6 ft)—I vividly remember feeling an overwhelming physical disparity the instant we locked grips. Before any techniques were exchanged, I already sensed I was being overpowered.

Allied soldiers boasting overwhelming physical stature appeared before the Japanese people, whose identity had collapsed after defeat. Testimonies from Japanese people at the time describing that impression remain recorded in various forms.

“They were huge, like sumo wrestlers,”
“Their shoulders were so broad and their legs so long, they didn’t seem human.”

Didn’t many Japanese people, in the midst of despair, feel that “with such a physical disparity, there was no way we could win in the first place”?

It has been suggested in various ways that Japanese people, thrown into a vortex of despair and loss of self, found a way to protect their ego by seeking an advantage that could overturn this physical disparity. What the Japanese found, or rather rediscovered, was likely “spirituality.”

“Small men or boys defeating giants”
“Overcoming physical inferiority by mastering ‘technique’ to win”

Such depictions became prevalent after the war, appearing frequently in various forms of expression, manga foremost among them. The ideology underpinning these depictions evolved into concepts that also integrated with Western science, such as:

“Muscles gained through strength training are stiff and lack flexibility, making them useless.”
“Muscles developed through daily training are useful in combat, but muscles gained through strength training are utterly useless in real battle.”

I feel this ideology can be found countless times throughout the history of manga and anime, and it continues to be passed down to the present day.

What struck me strongly here is that the core of these ideas likely extends beyond simply “the physical body needed to be negated for the despairing Japanese, who had to place value solely on the spirit.”

I sensed it also expresses a hope: “We are still incomplete and immature. By pursuing spirituality to reach completion, the day of our revival will surely come.”

I also suspect the so-called “effort supremacy” ideology might stem from the idea that “because we are incomplete, we must keep striving until we achieve completion.”

Pre-modern Japan—Noble Culture, Warriors, Skill and the Body

Next, let us shift the focus further back in time. I believe many modern Japanese hold the principle that “spiritual matters are more noble than physical ones” as a foundational belief. And the roots of this principle can likely be traced back to the pre-modern era.

It is often said that in court culture, the appreciation of words, waka poetry, and the sensibilities required to savor them were valued more highly than physicality.

Similarly, in samurai culture, Zen and bushido ethics placed greater emphasis on abstract concepts like “form,” “spirit,” and “timing” than on direct physical strength. This is also a well-known point, and I think it resonates with us living in the modern era.

In other words, within these cultural spheres, even as early as the pre-modern period, displaying strength was already perceived as “lowbrow,” “barbaric,” or “a sign of immaturity.”

However, we must bear in mind that our understanding of pre-modern culture is largely based on written records—that is, the culture of the ruling classes like nobles and samurai who could use writing—and it doesn’t fully cover the culture of the common people.

In other words, we remain largely uncertain about how commoners, who were engaged in physical labor, perceived muscular physiques or bodies built through strength training.

Nevertheless, the tendency to reject strength based on brute force persisted even after the early modern period. For example, Yagyu Munenori, a swordsman active in the early Edo period and martial arts instructor to the Tokugawa shogunate, left behind the words:
“To seek victory through brute force is the lowest of the low.”
Moreover, various martial arts tales and legends repeatedly feature patterns like “a braggart boasting of his strength is defeated in an instant” or “a frail old man defeats a young man proud of his strength through technique.”

Androgyny and the Preference for Neutrality

When considering Japan’s “culture of avoiding Macho,” I believe the “desire for androgyny” is an unavoidable factor.

In Japan, there exists a tendency for women to avoid and reject the mature physicality of men. Of course, many do not feel this way, and this is merely my own observation.

Specifically, mature physicality might refer to “muscles,” “Adam’s apples,” “body hair,” “prominent veins,” and “short hair.” Whether so-called ‘baldness’ should be included in “mature masculinity” likely depends on the academic scope used, so I won’t delve into that here. However, unlike in Japan, baldness seems to be perceived as a symbol of mature adult masculinity in places like Russia and South America.

I believe there has always been, and still is, a significant number of women who desire masculinity possessing characteristics diametrically opposed to the “mature masculinity” described here—that is, masculinity characterized as “androgynous.” And while this is merely my personal impression, I also feel that the proportion of such women in Japan might be higher than in other countries. This trend can likely be discerned in the portrayal of characters within fictional narratives.

Similar to the expectation of neutrality placed on Japanese women, there is also a phenomenon among Japanese men known as the “a preference for an image of femininity that emphasizes immaturity or incompletion.” This tendency is often simplistically explained by drawing parallels to the “Otaku” subculture of modern history. However, this inclination was already strongly evident in the era of Yasunari Kawabata, suggesting that it may stem from aspects of Japanese national character that cannot be fully explained by modern history alone.

Nevertheless, examining these cultural aspects in both Japanese men and women requires consideration from multiple perspectives.

Defeat in the war (as already mentioned)
The rise of women’s liberation
The disappearance of paternal authority within the family

Delving deeper from these angles could yield intriguing discoveries. But I’ll save that for another time.

Sports-Club-Oriented Types vs. Culturally Oriented Types

In Japan, there exists a well-known social divide between what can be described as
sports-club-oriented types and culturally oriented types.

The tendency for Macho to be shunned in Japan stems deeply from the negative connotations associated with them. These can be summed up in words like “arrogant,” “immature,” and “vulgar.” As mentioned earlier, these images overlap with aspects of Japanese culture that have been rejected since before the early modern period.

When considering these negative connotations, there exists an social group in modern Japan that embodies all of them. This is the negative image associated with what is known as “sports types.”

Of course, sports oriented types have its positive aspects. Therefore, the following points certainly do not apply to all individuals involved in sports types.

• Imposing their own success stories.
• Forgetting the good fortune of being born into an environment conducive to dedicated athletic pursuit, attributing everything solely to their own effort.

Personally, I sometimes feel that among those who have only experienced sports types, some struggle to expand the richness of their inner world beyond the sport itself.

The polar opposite of sports types is cultural types. However, within Japan’s school caste system, sports-type members are often positioned near the top of the hierarchy as the “popular kids,” while cultural types members are frequently placed in the lower tiers. This structure, where those lower in the hierarchy are more susceptible to teasing or bullying from those above, may exist in any cultural sphere.

In Japan, I suspect many people holding beliefs like “I absolutely refuse to do strength training” or “Anyone who does strength training is stupid” have had negative memories implanted by athletic club members within the school caste structure.

Another factor complicating the “sports types vs. cultural types” divide in Japan stems from the prevailing atmosphere that has strongly dominated Japanese organizational logic since modern times – one that could be described as glorifying sports types. Many people have witnessed what seems like blatant preferential treatment for sports types during job hunting or career advancement competitions.

Underlying this is the reality that the idea that “sports types are well-mannered, respectful of elders, and possess the fortitude to rigorously train juniors” enjoys considerable fervent support in Japan. They don’t defy those above them and are strict with those below. Needless to say, individuals possessing these traits are recognized as highly valuable assets by corporate executives and middle managers.

And of course, I feel there are also many Japanese people who resent this atmosphere, feeling unfairness and alienation, bitter about the perception that only sports types receive preferential treatment. In other words, this isn’t just a short story, like “The football club sits at the top of the school caste system and is the most popular,” a narrative that could be resolved in just a few pages of a long life. It’s a long-running story, a novel spanning many pages of life.

The sports types vs. cultural types dichotomy is also an inescapable reality when examining Japan’s “useless muscle debate.”

The weakness of the context in which the physical body is discussed

Now we’ll move into summarizing the “useless muscle debate.”

The next point to consider is that in Japan, the context for discussing muscles and the physical body as words or philosophy is extremely weak. This weakness causes the problem of being unable to increase the resolution when talking about muscles and the physical body.

This is the phenomenon repeatedly described in this article: the moment someone says, “I do strength training,” their existence becomes fixed within the weak context held by many Japanese people. It’s that feeling that makes you want to explain, “No, I don’t actually want to become a Macho.”

Japan has had individuals who attempted to integrate body and spirit. Probably the most famous is Yukio Mishima. Still, it is difficult to say that his attempt resulted in a broadly shared or sustainable cultural vocabulary for understanding the body.

When the context for discussing muscles and the body is weak, a culture that interprets them with high resolution fails to develop. Consequently, “athletic club types” and “strength training enthusiasts” get lumped together, leading to reactions like, “Oh, they’re just those aggressive athletic club types, right? I’m sick of that sort of thing,” resulting in blanket dislike.

In reality, even among “strength training enthusiasts,” their approaches are incredibly diverse.

Among “bodybuilding enthusiasts,” there are certainly those raised in a hardcore athletic club culture who don’t hide that mindset. However, on the other hand, there are also many people driven by a strong desire to “pursue what they love to the absolute limit” – people you might call “bodybuilding geeks.”

The mindsets of these two groups are often fundamentally different. Yet, in Japan, the context needed to distinguish them is so sparse that they end up lumped together. To put this simply: imagine someone who only recognizes white Americans within the context of “white Americans.” That person would fail to recognize the crucial fact that “even within the broad category of white Americans, there are significant differences like Italian-Americans or Anglo-Saxons, and these can be decisive distinctions.”

What exactly are “usable muscles”?

So, what exactly are these “usable muscles” and “unusable muscles” we’ve been considering?

My (tentative) conclusion at this point is as follows:

“Usable muscles” are those that can be one clean formulation in a way that satisfies society’s majority when society asks, “Why do you have that kind of body?” or “Why do you want to build muscle?” This is equivalent to receiving society’s stamp of approval that “you are not deviating.”

Consequently, individuals who consistently engage in strength training, and even those considering consistent strength training, feel societal pressure to continually demonstrate their intent to “not deviate from societal norms” at every opportunity.

To summarize, my current view is that “usable muscles” in Japan can be defined as “muscles that have gained the understanding and approval of the social majority.”

Conversely, though it may no longer need explicit articulation,
what then are “unusable muscles”?
Are they not “muscles that have failed to gain the understanding and approval of the social majority”?

In closing

In Japan, will people ever acquire a rich context for discussing muscles?
This is a question I carry with me.

One ideology that has deeply influenced the Japanese mentality is Bushido.

From Hagakure, a text that conveys Bushido to the present day, I discern the following message:

Prepare yourself for death every day.
By doing so, when the moment comes, you will not hesitate—you will be able to act without regret.

When this idea is applied to the Macho way of life, it begins to feel somewhat incompatible. We Macho tend to envision the physique we want to achieve, gripping the barbell according to long-term plans. We rarely imagine that our lives will end tomorrow. Somewhere deep down, we assume that life will continue next week, next month, and next year.

Measured against the Bushido conveyed to us through Hagakure, this might make us appear to be “half-hearted individuals whose resolve remains unsteady.”

On the other hand, Martin Luther, a central figure of the Reformation, is said to have left us these words:

“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”

These words quietly embody both the nobility of altruism and the resolve to live life fully.

Hagakure does not deny that a samurai might die peacefully on his futon, nor does it advocate meaningless death. Though expressed indirectly, it can also be read as urging one to “live without regret, and to live fully.”

Between the samurai code of
“Be prepared to die every day,”
and Luther’s
“Even if everything were to return to nothing—knowing it may be futile—do it anyway,”

I sense that the rich context Japanese people need in order to speak about the body and muscle may lie dormant somewhere in between.

That space between them is where I intend to keep looking.