Of course, the US will probably have little choice but to inject capital anyway (the UK is already doing something similar), so Aso’s advice might simply be a ploy to try and take credit for something he had nothing to do with.

1. Overview of how financial regulation works in the US, so you know who to point the finger[s] at.


2. Marginal Revolution is, in my lofty opinion, the best blog for following all the antics. It’s written by a couple of econ professors who normally talk about curiosities (similar to Freakonomics), but lately they’ve been doing a great job of consolidating (and generating) economic commentary on the various implosions and bailouts going on.


3. The Conglomerate is giving some of the best coverage from a legal perspective.


4. If you want something on a higher level, read Calculated Risk, which is what all the bankers have been reading (especially now that they have nothing else to do).

Any other recommendations to share?

Those who favoured the gradual method of extinction felt that there were serious objections to an immediate adoption of the root-and-branch way of going to work. For example, they said-as many Medical Missionaries have also affirmed-that the latter course would entail unspeakable misery on the opium-smokers themselves, and that the enactment of stringent laws in such circumstances would necessitate a fleet of armed cruisers round the Island to prevent smuggling, with Police establishments and Prison accomodation on a scale which simply could not be hoped for.

America left its ticket and passport in the jacket in the bin in the X-ray machine, and is admonished. America is embarrassed to have put one one-ounce moisturizer too many in the see-through bag. America is irritated that the TSA agent removed its mascara, opened it, put it to her nose, and smelled it. Why don’t you put it up your nose and see if it explodes? America thinks, but does not say.

And, as always American thinks: Why do we do this when you know I am not a terrorist, and you know I know you know I am not a terrorist? Why this costly and embarrassing kabuki when we both know the facts, and would even admit privately that all this harassment is only the government’s way of showing that it is “fair,” of demonstrating that it will equally humiliate anyone in order to show its high-mindedness and sense of justice? Our politicians congratulate themselves on this as we stand in line.

That’s from Peggy Noonan’s new book Patriotic Grace, as quoted here.

I was on my way home from work when I noticed a press conference outside the office (covering the Tokyo police force’s anti-drunk driving campaign with guest star Aya Ueto) . “Stop drunk driving once and for all!” read the signs. When I happened by, some boys in what appeared to be boy scout uniforms were speechifying about how they pledged to campaign against this serious public concern. Directly in front of the stage stood a tightly squeezed group of TV cameras and photographers.

So far so good until I noticed a security guard holding another sign: “No photography from cameras or mobile phones. We will remove anyone taking pictures.” No sooner did I appreciate the irony of ordering no photography at a press conference than an onlooker in a suit reached for his camera, only to be immediately approached by another man. The other man reached out and physically covered the lens of the camera with his hand. He was polite but firm: “No photos please.” I looked on in disgust and headed home soon after.

What a sad display. Here was a government-sponsored press conference and the public was not permitted to record the festivities, lest it cost a TV station some viewers or Dentsu (I am assuming) a bit of marketing power. In the US the police would have a prior restraint lawsuit on their hands. But even without making a free speech argument, it is simply pathetic to suppress citizen camerawork in favor of a media cartel.

Bank of Japan
Nintendo/Sega/SquareEnix/Sony Factory
Frog Bridge (I want to see waste in action, or is that waste inaction?)
Kantei
Japan Post/Japan Post Corporation offices
National Diet Library
LDP HQ
DPJ HQ
Soka Gakkai HQ
Tenri City
Aleph HQ
Agon-shu HQ
Tezuka Osamu Museum
Yasukuni Shrine
Budokan
Christ’s burial ground
Okinawa
Political campaigns
Diet in session
State assembly/city councils
Inuyama
Anywhere hitchhiking

Places I already visited:
Diet Building
Todai
Roppongi Hills
A Kampo no yado

In descending order, with 1 being the best score and 10 being the worst:

1. Hong Kong (1.45)
2. Singapore (1.92)
3. Japan (3.50)
4. South Korea (4.62)
5. Taiwan (4.93)
6. Philippines (6.10)
7. Malaysia (6.47)
8. India (6.50)
9. Thailand (7.00)
10. China (7.25)
11. Vietnam (8.10)
12. Indonesia (8.26)

No real surprises for anyone who’s familiar with these countries. But here’s a quick rundown of comparative Asian law to accompany the list:

Hong Kong and Singapore both retained the common law which applied to them when they were English colonies. The systems are so similar that Hong Kong and Singaporean solicitors can become qualified as English solicitors by taking a short transfer exam on professional conduct. The efficiency and transparency of these systems are key reasons for Hong Kong and Singapore’s popularity as international financial centers: contracts are generally enforceable, courts are generally predictable, and things work more or less as they would work in London or New York.

Japan built a civil law system in the late 1800s based on the Napoleonic Code as it had developed in France and Germany. Korea was subject to Japanese law during the colonial period, and while they carefully replaced the Japanese statutes with “native” statutes upon independence, South Korean law is still very close to Japanese law. The Republic of China apparently intended to develop its own civil law during the early 20th century, but was so preoccupied with other matters during its early history that it ended up copying Japan’s system instead. So all three systems are very similar to each other, and share common elements with the law of continental Europe (such as extensive codification and minimized judicial discretion).

The Philippines governs itself through a mishmash of Spanish and American law: family, property and contract matters are governed by Spanish-style rules, while constitutional, commercial and litigation matters are governed by American-style rules. Malaysia and India both follow English common law, with religious law (such as Islamic sharia) applying to family matters. All three countries suffer a similar basic problem: although their legal systems are based on good models, they are quite dysfunctional in practice due to corruption and bureaucratic inefficiency.

Thailand’s strong monarchy managed to keep its legal system fairly independent, but like Japan, Thailand tapped European experts to help write its statute books, so it ended up with a French-style civil law system. Although the system isn’t bad, it remains subject to the will of the monarchy or whomever else happens to be in control of the country at any given time, which isn’t very reassuring to people doing business there.

China is something of a basket case these days, operating under an intricate collection of statutes from different eras. The Republic of China adopted Japanese law, as stated above, but the Communists threw out these rules upon taking control of the mainland in the 1940s, and introduced a close copy of Soviet law. Since the 1980s, though, the National People’s Congress has overwritten most of China’s Soviet law with new statutes governing property, contracts and other basic private legal matters. Many of these are so vague that their practical application falls to bureaucratic discretion. Wikipedia has a chunky but interesting writeup on the subject which could use further development by experts.

Vietnam and Indonesia, at the bottom of the rankings, formally still follow Napoleonic legal systems introduced by their colonial powers (France and the Netherlands respectively), but in practice the rules are only enforced when the government is in the right mood.

Let’s hear the Ozawa’s response to Aso’s unconventional speech

Prime Minister Taro Aso gave his first policy speech at a joint session of the Diet. The speech was unconventional—not only did he harshly criticize the DPJ’s actions in the Diet, he questioned the DPJ on issues such as the passage of the fiscal 2008 supplemental budget. The speech took the form of a declaration of war against the DPJ and gave the strong impression that the decisive battle of the next Lower House elecion is near.

It was almost exactly one year ago that former PM Fukuda gave his own first policy speech, in which he took a more relaxed stance as he called for dialogue with the opposition parties to deal with a Diet in which separate parties control each chamber. .Aso’s speech was a shart contrast, and we look forward to hearing DPJ President Ichiro Ozawa’s “response.”

The PM flatly stated that the DPJ’s handling of the last ordinary Diet session “had a consistent attitude of putting politics first and the people’s lives second or third.” He then went further, noting that the DPJ should put forth rules for forming consensus and questioning, “Is the DPJ ready to do that?”

... For the PM himself to use his policy speech to question the opposition parties’ handling of Diet affairs is extremely uncommon.

...

PM speeches such as the opening policy speech typically take care to mention all the policy initiatives of the various ministries. But Aso eschewed this in favor of a fresher Aso-style address. His determination to take the mantle of administration was clear.

But they have a point.  I watched the speech, and when you can hear him over the jeers of the opposition party Aso actually sounds like a human being. The mere fact that he spoke as if there was some life left in him was what made it truly unconventional and no doubt got the media’s attention. It might not save him come election time, but Aso should be proud that he gave one of the best speeches in recent Diet history.

Setup of DSL takes almost exactly one month. First you place the order, then a couple of weeks later the modem is delivered by parcel, and then a week or two after that the installation guy comes from NTT to check your line and flip on the service. If, as in most apartments, there is already an NTT phone line, this is really all they do-and yet it still takes an entire month for someone to come and do it-and this is not due to a particular backlog, but because of a set four-week schedule.

Now that I’m in a house I can get fiber, which is way, way faster than DSL, for the same basic price, and includes a deal with 5 months free and some cash back in a few more months. I put in the order on the 20th, 10 days ago, and was given an installation appointment of October 3, or about two weeks from the date of order. Today the installer guys came by to do the outdoors portion of the work.

So, why is it that installation of a fiber optic line to a house can be accomplished two weeks from the date of order, while DSL takes four weeks, despite the fact that the fiber installation is multiple orders of magnitude more expensive and time consuming?

The reason, I am told, is that here the politicians do not actually matter. The country is run by the bureaucrats – the middle managers.

Scripted interview

I was at first a little sceptical of this claim, until I went to the prime minister’s office to interview the previous incumbent, Yasuo Fukuda.

The problem with these kind of encounters is that Japanese civil servants are always terrified that their man might put a foot wrong. They try to leave nothing to chance.

For days before there are tortuous negotiations about what topics might or might not be discussed.When you arrive for the interview, there are more flurries and fuss from the small army of men in suits, who fill the room long before their boss makes an appearance.

On this occasion, they wanted Mr Fukuda to talk about the environment. But they were worried he might not follow the script in his interview with me, so they had written out what they wanted him to say and put it on a teleprompter just behind my left ear.

We pointed out politely that this might look a little unnatural, but they were having none of it.

The prime minister would make a statement before the interview began, they said, to make sure he got all the points in, whether I asked them or not.

“But we won’t use that,” I explained.

No matter, the great man was on his way.

‘Three, two, one, cue PM’

He came in, sat down, was perfectly pleasant, and even had a few words to say in English.

But there was no time for chat. An aide started gesturing from behind my head, and barked out: “Three, two, one, cue PM”.

The poor man started reading from the teleprompter. I had to keep a straight face so as not to put him off. So did he.

It was quite obvious to both of us that this was not going to be used, but he was doing what he was told.

By the time I was given the opportunity to ask my questions, I have to confess the latent, bolshy teenager inside me had emerged.

I noticed he had five pieces of paper with densely typed briefings on his lap, one for each question I was expected to ask.

I started asking them but in the wrong order.

That prompted much harrumphing and agitated shuffling of papers from the audience of advisers clustered around us, but the prime minister, to his credit, soldiered gamely on.

The poor man looked like a puppet though, and the fact that he was clearly an intelligent, talented politician made the whole experience feel that much more depressing.