• 1 Aimée Moutet (1998) situates this moment for France in the 1880s.
• 2 Shakai Seisaku Gakkai Nenpō Henshū Iinkai, 1967.

2The term “rationalisation” (gōrika 合理化), applied to an industrial context, was used abundantly in the late 1920s and subsequently acquired a variety of meanings throughout the twentieth century. Initially the focus was on introducing more scientific managerial techniques and mechanising production in response to changes born of the second phase of industrialisation, which in Japan coincided with WWI.1 Beginning in the 1930s, the term also tended to be applied to the reforming of workers’ everyday lives. Then, at the turn of the 1950s, it came to refer to economic measures that entailed rolling back a number of social rights obtained shortly after Japan’s defeat. These measures also meant restructuring industrial activity – notably via redundancies – and further mechanising production, thereby intensifying the pace of work. As a result, Marxist sociologists of labour saw “rationalisation” as perfectly illustrating the capitalist drive to implement industrial change to the detriment of working conditions.2 Despite these many evolving meanings, “rationalisation” can generally be understood as a long-term historical process that radically transformed both labour organisation and workers’ lives during the twentieth century. Japanese coal-mining, one of the first sectors to experience massive growth in the Meiji period, embodied this process to the extreme, hence the particular interest shown in the evolution of labour relations within the mines.

• 3 Ōyama, 1955a.
• 4 Ōyama, 1955b.
• 5 These crew bosses were known as kogashira 小頭, nayagashira 納屋頭, hanbagashira 飯場 頭 or tōryō 頭領, depe (...)
• 6 Sumiya, 1968.
• 7 Murakushi, 1989. 8. Ogino, 1993.

3For Japanese historians of labour during the first two decades after WWII, coal mines were at the forefront of the fight to combat the most outdated and alienating forms of labour relations. Ōyama Shikitarō 大山敷太郎 (1902–1975), for example, considered the system employed at Takashima mine3 (and elsewhere4), in which intermediaries recruited and supervised the workforce, to be essentially an outdated version of premodern practices. Conversely, Sumiya Mikio 隅谷三喜男 (1916–2003), a leading post-war historian of labour relations, considered this indirect management of the workforce to be a first stage of capitalist development. The need for intermediaries5 stemmed from the difficulty in securing sufficient workers and from the underdeveloped organisational capacities of companies at the time.6 However, Sumiya also saw it as symbolising an oppressive, violent and anti-democratic system of labour organisation. More recently, Murakushi Nisaburō 村串仁三郎 (1935–) and Ogino Yoshihiro 荻野喜弘 (1944–) have carried out in-depth data analyses to show the way mines in the first half of the twentieth century were forced to radically transform labour relations in response to the rapid modernisation of mining technology and labour organisation.7 Labour historian Hazama Hiroshi 間宏 (1929–2009) identified four stages in this transformation process, which ended after WWII:

• 9 See the paper by Kaiko Miyazaki in this issue of Cipango in English.
• 10 Ōhara, 2016.
• 11 “Rōdō tōkei jitchi chōsa hōkoku” 労働統計実地調査報告 [Report on Labour Statistical Studies], 1924.
• 12 Tanaka, 1984.

7Ever since the Edo period, coal extraction, particularly in the Chikuhō region, carried a pariah-like social status.9 Forced labour was a frequent and long-standing practice, particularly at Miike mine,10 and coal miners, more than any other category of industrial worker, had extremely low rates of literacy. According to one survey conducted in 1924, 35.5 percent of women miners had received no schooling whatsoever, compared to just 6.5 percent of female textile workers, despite both hailing from equally rural communities.11 In addition to their extremely low social status, miners were subjected to a particularly oppressive system known as naya 納屋 or hanba 飯場 in certain areas. A subcontractor known as a nayagashira 納屋頭 or hanbagashira 飯場頭 supervised the workers under his authority around the clock, housing them in barracks-style accommodation known as naya (or hanba), on which the system’s name is based.12 These subcontractors were generally responsible for recruiting workers, often at their own expense. Once the nayagashira had assembled a group of labourers, he assigned them tasks on the coalface according to the company’s requirements. This role of assigning miners to different areas of the worksite gave the nayagashira considerable power, since workers’ wages depended precisely on the amount of coal they extracted. Nayagashira also calculated and paid the miners their salaries, sold them work equipment and often lent them money. They were involved in all aspects of the miners’ lives, leaving the average miner perpetually in their debt, both financially and socially.

• 13 Sone, 2007.

8This indirect system of labour management was gradually replaced at large mines after WWI, mainly as a result of transformations in mining technology and changes in the workforce. Up until the early 1920s, coal was generally extracted using the “room-and-pillar” system in which miners carved out the coal and left pillars in place to support the galleries created. A certain number of teams thus worked the coalface simultaneously and relatively independently from one another. Given that the space or “room” created around the pillars was fairly small, each team was composed of just a handful of miners. In this system, labour organisation relied on upstream management by the nayagashira and on worksite coordination between one or two skilled coal miners responsible for digging out the ore (sakiyama 先山) and the workers who collected and carried it away (atoyama 後山). The atoyama was often a woman, but not necessarily the wife of the sakiyama. It was in the atoyama’s interest to work with a productive sakiyama since the pair’s salary was directly proportional to the amount of coal they transported.13

• 14 Sagawa, 2015, p. 30.
• 15 Ibid., p. 29.
• 16 The active participation of Korean miners alongside Japanese during the Asō Coal Strike in 1932 no (...)
• 17 Ogino, 1993, p. 308.

10The mass recruitment of Koreans during the interwar period was a response to this challenge. At Mitsubishi’s Namazuta mine (Chikuhō region), the proportion of miners from Korea reached 43.5 percent in 1927, while women became increasingly rare in the shafts. In the 1920s, up to 1928, Korean labourers made up more than half of all recruitments.14 The introduction of longwall mining and the resulting contraction of the workforce meant that the poor Japanese-language skills of Koreans were no longer the handicap they had been in the room-and-pillar era.15 The new system made it possible to ensure each longwall team had at least one Korean able to communicate in Japanese and serve as interpreter to the rest. Furthermore, with extraction increasingly mechanised, the Koreans’ limited experience of mining (hailing as they often did from rural communities) no longer represented an insurmountable obstacle to improving productivity. Although a certain number of more skilled miners were needed, the new technological environment reduced everyone else’s work to merely transporting the coal, essentially just shovelling it onto the conveyor. The new low-skilled Korean miners were thus less of an impediment to improved yields than they had been when directly responsible for extraction. Nevertheless, the mass hiring of Koreans unlikely to resist technological change was short-lived.16 The proportion of Korean miners declined rapidly throughout the 1930s. By the end of 1933, only 5.7 percent of miners in the Chikuhō coalfield were of Korean origin.17

• 18 Ichihara, 1997, p. 136.
• 19 Ibid., p. 137.

12In the new mechanised environment of the mines, the human resources department was one of the main instruments used to introduce a new breed of worker controlled directly by the company. At Mitsubishi, a “labour management department” (rōmu kakari 労務係) was created in 1919 to oversee human resources, with a much more formalised role than its predecessor, the less specialised “supervision department” (torishimari kakari 取り締まり係).18 Previously, recruitment procedures had varied greatly from one region to another. In Chikuhō, with its high concentration of mines, recruitment essentially relied on personal connections. At more isolated, island-based mines or ones known for employing unskilled miners (such as prisoners, as had been known at Miike colliery), there was a greater reliance on professional recruiters. These individuals signed a contract with the mine and sought workers wherever they could be found, including in Korea. Nevertheless, efforts by the newly created HR departments to formalise and rationalise recruitment saw them avoid certain profiles and create blacklists of undesirable itinerant miners. This included miners with a union background, those with a predisposition for gambling or fighting (possibly with a criminal record) and anyone known to be “habitual absentees” due to illness or work-related accidents. More standardised recruitment criteria were also introduced. At Mitsui Tagawa, for example, miners had to be aged between 16 and 50. A primary-school education was welcomed, while recruits with a secondary-school certificate had the possibility of moving into a supervisory position. Miners had to be neither over-qualified nor under-qualified. Finally, the recruitment of former merchants and civil servants was to be avoided, with a total ban on hiring Koreans, beggars (kojiki 乞食) and any kind of social degenerate.19

• 20 Inoue, 2010, p. 213.
• 21 Nagaya were long wooden buildings comprising a succession of individual dwellings.
• 22 Ichihara, 1997, p. 134.

13Introducing a more direct form of workforce management meant not only transforming hiring practices but also reviewing miners’ housing and provisions. Indirect management practices perpetuated miners’ dependence on the nayagashira (or hanbagashira in some regions). These intermediaries were replaced at some mines in the late Meiji period by sewayaku 世話役, who were more directly employed by the company but still enjoyed considerable autonomy in the way they managed their crew. Companies’ desire for a more direct hand in labour management soon led to the appearance of a new figure of authority – the kakariin 係員. These supervisors were responsible for checking that miners had gone to work, even visiting them at home if they failed to appear at the “clocking-in room” (kurikomijo 繰込所). Miners could also visit the kakariin in their office, often called the tsumejo (詰所), to discuss work or private matters.20 Initially these positions were filled by former miners, but in the 1930s graduates of technical schools were increasingly hired. Kakariin lived with the miners in new housing units directly managed by the company. These new units gradually replaced the old nagaya run by independent owners.21 Mitsui, for example, abandoned the nagaya at its Tagawa site at the turn of the century, replacing the tiny, individual three-mat rooms with slightly larger ones (measuring four mats). It was only after WWI that the first two-room units were introduced. These were no longer referred to as naya but as shataku 社宅 (literally “company housing”). In 1924, Mitsui Tagawa finally replaced its unique numbering system based on rows of nagaya with a more traditional address system based on blocks (chō 町).22

• 23 Ibid., p. 124.

14A formalised hierarchy increasingly governed the link between the inhabitants of these new types of housing and the mine management. During the 1920s, the new company-run housing system disseminated the national campaigns to rationalise lifestyles, encouraging the inhabitants – like the population at large – to make savings and reduce unnecessary spending. Mutual aid societies, designed to undermine certain traditional financing practices, were also encouraged via joint consultative committees (detailed in the following section). Mitsui Sunagawa mine, for example, prohibited the use of rotary financing schemes known as mujin 無尽 or tanomoshikō頼母子講, on the grounds that these informal lending circles encouraged indebted miners to flee. The fight to eradicate mujin was thus an integral part of the efforts to stabilise the workforce.23

• 24 Yamazaki, 1996, p. 37.

15In their bid to achieve greater control of the workforce, companies were forced to gradually forgo their previous reliance on intermediaries and confront a new kind of opposition in the form of the unions. Although certain mines had already seen rioting in the mid-Meiji period, it was not until WWI that the trade union movement began to gather strength in Japan’s collieries. The rice riots of 1918 in particular saw police-protester clashes involving previously unseen levels of violence. At a time when workforce stabilisation policies were still in their infancy, “itinerant miners” (watari kōfu 渡坑夫) who moved from mine to mine were instrumental in disseminating early forms of unionisation. A Home Ministry survey of the police shows that on 1 January 1921 there was a total of 56 unions in the mines, with 28,592 members.24

• 25 Murakushi, 1989.
• 26 Ichihara, 1997, p. 177.

16Traditional societies or guilds (known as tomoko 友子) also played a role in the formation of the unions. Present in Japan’s gold, silver and copper mines from the seventeenth century onwards, these societies were responsible for guaranteeing and promoting the skills of their members and ensuring they were fairly paid. If an accident or illness prevented the miner from working, the tomoko could issue a temporary or permanent disability certificate allowing the miner to request assistance from fellow tomoko members at mines around the country. Tomoko spread throughout the coal mines of Hokkaidō, at Jōban colliery and at certain mines in Kyūshū (when migrant workers from the metal mines of northern Japan and Shikoku were hired). Having traditionally played a crucial role in miner solidarity, they were quite naturally the site of the first union initiatives. When companies began to take back control of the workforce and develop a company culture linking labour and management, the tomoko naturally became a target. They were often seen as an impediment to improved productivity and symbolised the relative financial, social and cultural autonomy of miners.25 What is more, they organised ceremonies, such as funerals, that were held during work hours. This led to the introduction in 1930, at Hokutan Noborikawa, of a regulation limiting absences to one half day, followed by a second regulation in 1932 banning miners from attending funerals on company time.26

• 27 Ibid., p. 111–112 & 129.

17The main means of eviscerating the tomoko, reducing their rituals to folklore and countering their role in the burgeoning trade union movement was for mining firms to develop alternative consultation bodies between workforce and management. This initiative, stimulated by semi-governmental organisations like the Cooperation Society (Kyōchōkai 協調会) and their efforts to disseminate the ideology of labour-capital cooperation, echoed the “factory committees” (kōjō iinkai 工場委員会) established in the manufacturing sector. In the mines, these organisations adopted a variety of names evoking the idea of harmony and cooperation. Mitsubishi alone saw the creation in late 1919 of the Mutual Love Society (Sōaikai 相愛会) and the Diligent Cooperation Society (Kyōreikai 協励会) at its Yūbari mine, the Friendship and Harmony Society (Shinwakai 親和会) at Bibai, the Society of Harmonious Cooperation (Kyōwakai 協和会) at Ashibetsu and a second Friendship and Harmony Society at Takashima in 1922. In the Chikuhō coalfield, which was slower to evolve, “diligent cooperation societies” did not appear until 1925. These bodies took an equal interest in working conditions and living conditions. In 1931, “cooperative societies” (kyōai kumiai 共愛組合) at Miike mine tackled 766 points, most of them linked to production infrastructure (273), living facilities and welfare (159), and to a lesser extent consumption (78), health (35), followed by bonuses (27) and salary (16).27

• 28 Ibid.

18The variety of subjects tackled by these organisations suggests a fairly ambiguous purpose with regards the new miner-management relations. During the discussions on the trade unions bill in the mid-1920s, many mining companies considered encouraging the transformation of the kumiai into fully-fledged unions. In 1924, when unions with over a thousand members were offered the chance to elect a representative to attend the International Labour Conferences organised by the International Labour Organisation, some of these bodies – which like the Shinwakai at Bibai allowed only employees to be members – were able to take part in the vote. Despite the rejection of the first trade unions bill in 1926, management control of the kumiai only tightened. In the early 1930s, for example, Mitsui adopted a policy of merging the existing organisations. Three years later, the 49 kyōai kumiai at the company’s Miike site were merged into a single body headed by the mine’s personnel manager.28

• 29 Ibid., p. 137.

19The gradual development of a more direct style of managing miners’ work and everyday lives was as much a response to the introduction of new mining technologies as it was a means of tackling the threat of the unions. Nevertheless, technological advances – which were part and parcel of what by the late 1920s was already termed “rationalisation” – were not limited to increased mechanisation of the extraction process. In fact, the mining companies’ desire to directly manage their operations was part of a wider process to develop more scientific managerial techniques, in which the central focus on health was driven by institutional and medical innovations. The introduction of standardised physical fitness requirements for employment, for example, reflected the growth of occupational physiology since the early 1920s. At Mitsui’s Tagawa mine, mentioned earlier, future recruits had to meet minimum standards of physical strength and visual acuity. Miners also had to be capable of hearing more than a metre away. There was no minimum height but miners had to have balanced proportions, with a chest measurement representing over half their height. Shoulder, arm and grip strength were all tested and had to exceed certain standards. Mental capacities were also measured.29 These requirements reflected a desire to select only those individuals least likely to fall ill, and by extension, a desire to limit costs, since companies were directly responsible for managing the health of their workers, who were eligible for compensation and enjoyed greater legal protection. Such health checks were made possible by the increased presence of physicians in the mines.

• 30 Sumiya, 1970, p. 171–204.
• 31 Kōzan Konwakai, 1932, p. 597.

20Mining communities were traditionally vulnerable to workplace accidents as well as occupational and contagious illnesses (like tuberculosis). The Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce highlighted this vulnerability in 1913 in its survey of working conditions and hygiene in the mines, carried out between 1909 and 1911 by Ishihara Osamu.30 The protective measures set out in the 1905 Mining Act (Kōgyō-hō 鉱業法) were reinforced shortly after, and employers’ duty to assist was made explicit in August 1916 in the Rules on Assisting Working Miners (Kōfu rōyaku fujo kisoku 鉱夫労役扶助規則) decreed by the Ministry. Nevertheless, compensation still depended on the miner’s degree of fault, and while a certain number of occupational diseases, such as trachoma and Weil's disease, were eligible for assistance, silicosis was only recognised as an occupational disease on 3 June 1930, in a Home Ministry directive. The Health Insurance Act (Kenkō hoken-hō 健康保険法), finally promulgated in January 1928, six years after it was voted, contained some of the same provisions as the Rules on Assisting Working Miners, in particular one giving companies a certain amount of freedom in calculating compensation.31

• 32 Naimushō Shakaikyoku, 1924.

21Despite the limitations of labour protection measures, the growth of occupational hygiene was certainly stimulated by the introduction, at large mining companies, of a more direct style of management. The 1920s saw a proliferation of publications on the mines. The first major government survey on silicosis and Weil’s disease was published in April 1924 by the Home Ministry’s Bureau of Social Affairs.32 One year later, Komiya Yoshitaka, a young doctor and member of the Social Medicine Research Group (Shakai igaku kenkyūkai 社会医学研究会), wrote one of the most comprehensive studies on silicosis, an incurable disease caused by dust inhalation. This study, published as a pamphlet by the Japan Miners Confederation (Zen Nihon kōfu sōrengōkai 全日本鉱夫総連合会), showed that silicosis was an occupational disease and not a form of tuberculosis contracted outside the workplace. From 1925 to 1936, the 26 volumes of the Yokote Series on Social Hygiene (Yokote shakai eisei sōsho 横手社会衛生叢書), addressed essentially to company doctors, systematically examined matters relating to occupational health and even included a special issue on the mines.

• 33 Ichihara, 1997, p. 137.
• 34 Sangyō fukuri 産業福利, March 1935, p. 70.

22The advances in health policies and occupational hygiene were driven by employers’ desire to increase their biopower, partly to encourage the reproduction of mining communities and partly to develop a company culture founded on “industrial welfare” (sangyō fukuri 産業福利), disseminated during the interwar period by semi-governmental organisations like the Industrial Welfare Association (Sangyō fukuri kyōkai 産業福利協会). This coexistence of efforts to standardise health and hygiene and a desire to develop a company culture that broke with the traditional miners’ culture of the past is clearly visible in the new hiring conditions imposed by Mitsui at Tagawa. In addition to the previously mentioned minimum levels of physical fitness, any tattoos on potential recruits had to be almost completely erased.33 Several new social services were introduced as part of the drive to economically, socially and culturally transform mining communities’ way of life. Between August 1931 and July 1932, the Home Ministry’s Bureau of Social Affairs conducted a survey of the social services offered at 117 mines with over 300 workers: 57.2 percent provided a library; 58.9 percent gave instruction in art and home economics; 22.2 percent offered food allowances. Additionally, 59.8 percent of extraction sites had a pension scheme or retirement premium. However, certain practices still seem to have been relatively uncommon and no doubt reserved for the largest companies, for example housing allowances, offered in only 3.4 percent of cases. According to the survey, the average annual spending on social works was 30,145 yen per mine, corresponding to 18.38 yen per worker, or the equivalent of 11.5 work days.34 By the time of Japan’s invasion of China, the country’s large mines had already succeeded in creating mining communities steeped in a company culture that was far from the mining world of the Meiji and early Taishō periods. Nevertheless, despite this modernisation process being well underway, it would evolve paradoxically during the war.

• 35 Ichihara, 1997, p. 280.

24During the war, the mining industry was forced to recruit massively in order to boost production despite the reduced labour supply caused by the general mobilisation of the population. Historian Ichihara Hiroshi has identified three categories of miners in the workforce of this period: long-term miners from before the war; itinerant Japanese miners, who companies had previously tried to avoid hiring; and Korean miners. The number of the latter had dropped significantly during the 1930s, but they were now targeted once again by professional recruiters, with their movements strictly controlled. At Hokutan’s Sorachi colliery, for example, the proportion of workers employed for six years or more was just 22.6 percent in 1944, compared to 36.6 percent in 1938. However, figures could vary considerably from one mine to another.35

• 37 Ibid., p. 94.
• 38 Ibid., p. 95.

26Across Hokkaidō’s mines, workforce instability quickly reached drastic proportions and threatened to completely undermine the stabilisation efforts undertaken in the preceding period. In 1938, out of the 40,197 workers present at the end of each month, new arrivals accounted for 38,981 individuals (96.97 %) and departures 28,236 individuals (70.24 %), making a mobility rate of 167.21 percent!37 To avoid these defections, in 1941 the government promulgated a Decree for the Prevention of Labour Mobility (Idō bōshi-rei 移動防止令) and adopted the National Workers’ Booklets Act (Kokumin rōdō techō-hō 国民労働手帳法). At Bibai colliery, a Council for the Prevention of Labour Mobility (Idō bōshi iinkai 移動防止委員会) and a Job-leaving Advice Centre (Taishoku sōdanjo 退職相談所) were established to complement the tonarigumi neighbourhood associations and tsumejo supervisory offices. Regular visits were organised among families but these proved to have little effect on labour mobility.38

• 39 Yamaguchi, 2012, p. 49.
• 40 “Teruoka jochō o meguru Tōhoku shokōzan ni okeru zadankai” 暉峻所長をめぐる東北諸鉱山における座談会 [Discussion Group (...)

27The population of Korean and Chinese miners, who in 1937 numbered just 6,000 individuals, representing 3 percent of the total workforce, swelled to 133,000 in 1945, or 34 percent.39 However, these workers did not have the same opportunities to escape. In April 1941, Teruoka Gitō, director of the Institute of Labour Science, then part of the Patriotic Industrial Association (Sangyō hōkokukai 産業報国会), visited a certain number of mines in northern Japan alongside mining inspectors to assess the state of labour mobilisation. During the visit, he and one of the inspectors met several doctors as well as the heads of HR and occupational hygiene. The behaviour of Korean workers was scrutinised during the visit and they were noted to have a better attendance rate than their Japanese colleagues (at Matsuo colliery alone, the rate was 94–95 percent for Koreans compared to around 75 percent for Japanese). This difference was attributed to the fact that Koreans could not move around freely. It was also noted that the arrival of Koreans had caused the departure of qualified Japanese miners, who feared that working alongside them would lead to a fall in status.40

• 41 Ichihara, 1997, p. 282–284.
• 42 Mitsubishi Bibai Tankō Rōdō Kumiai, 1960, p. 104.
• 43 Ichihara, 1997, p. 285.

28In order to supervise and control this low-skilled workforce that was more or less impervious to patriotic discourse and the nascent company culture developed during the interwar years, mine owners multiplied the number of kakariin-type supervisory positions. In fact, since the mid-1930s these supervisors had come to play an increasingly important role in companies. At mining firm Hokutan, for example, Yūbari Technical School (Yūbari kōgyō gakkō 夕張鉱業学校) was renamed the Training Centre for Coal-Mining Supervisors (Saitan kakariin yōseijo 採炭係員養成所) in 1935. The company often hired the brothers of miners loyal to the firm and provided them with fast-track training lasting one year. Starting in 1941, when most associations and guilds were placed under the authority of the Patriotic Industrial Association, these patriotic organisations took over supervisor training (frequently deemed insufficient), notably though short training sessions lasting a few days. At the same time, disciplinary regulations were tightened. Hokutan, for example, in October 1944, introduced labour regulations that specified multiple grounds for dismissal for “absentees or people repeatedly turning up late and showing a lack of enthusiasm at work”, “people disturbing the peace and discipline of the mine” and those “who ignore orders from their direct superiors”.41 This reinforced disciplinary framework was accompanied by an increase in bureaucracy and new supervisory positions (alongside the existing ones), as well as a militarisation of the nomenclature linked to this new hierarchy. As of 1942, the mine chief (shochō 所長) at Mitsubishi Bibai had working under him a “supreme commander” (sōshikikan 総指揮官), a “pit manager” (kōmu kachō 坑務課長), a “technical corps” (gitai 技隊), “squadrons” (buntai 分隊) and “explosion supervisors” (happa kakariin 発破係員).42 However, these newly created positions were generally recruited from within management, and since the Patriotic Industrial Association had absorbed all the organisations supposed to speak on miners’ behalf, miners found themselves without any representation. “Consultation committees” (kondankai 懇談会) were naturally established, but these were by no means spaces where miners could voice discontent over working conditions. The matters available for discussion focused either on increasing productivity or labour mobilisation.43

• 44 Thomann, 2015, p. 399–403.
• 45 Japan only ratified this convention (no. 45) in 1956.
• 46 Sone, 2007, p. 207–222.

29The inability of mining companies to develop an efficient system of managing and communicating with the workforce compounded their inability to stem the movement of labour. To counter this endemic shortage of workers, the government repealed its ban on employing women underground. Despite Japan’s wartime pro-natalist policy and the Ministry of Health and Welfare’s reluctance to rely on female labour,44 the decree banning women from the mines – which had already seen numerous exemptions since the beginning of the war and had never truly been implemented at the smallest mines – was finally abandoned in 1939. This decision was facilitated by the fact that in 1938 Japan had withdrawn from the International Labour Organisation, which in 1935 had adopted the Underground Work Convention (Women) banning signatory countries from employing women underground in mines of all kinds.45 By 1944, around 70,000 women in Japan had been sent to work in the mine shafts.46

• 47 Bloch, 1941, p. 19.

30The increased reliance on unskilled workers, too numerous to be effectively supervised by the small number of qualified miners still present, added to the shortage of materials and equipment and low supervisor competency, negatively affected production. From a high point of 56.3 million tonnes in 1940, production levels dropped until Japan’s defeat, despite an increase in the number of workers. The overall sense one gains is that in many aspects of human resources management, the government and mining companies rolled back their interwar modernisation efforts. This turnaround is perfectly illustrated by labour productivity figures: in 1939 the amount of coal produced per miner dropped by over 20 percent, despite the spectacular increases achieved in the years preceding the war.47

• 48 Mitsubishi Bibai Tankō Rōdō Kumiai, 1960, p. 92.
• 49 Ibid., p. 96–98.
• 50 “Kyūshū tankō kondankai” 九州炭鉱懇談会 [Discussion Group for Kyūshū Mines], in Rōdō kagaku 労働科学 (Labour (...)

31At the same time, mining communities continued to be the target of certain social welfare measures. At the beginning of the war the large mining conglomerates, or zaibatsu, generated huge profits: their profit rates rose from 15.9 percent to 24.6 percent between the first halves of 1937 and 1938.48 This allowed them to pursue their strategy to build more comfortable and sanitary new housing, as they had done intensively in the 1930s. At Bibai, Mitsubishi built around 900 housing units for its miners and 100 for supervisory staff between 1936 and 1940. Miners’ accommodation consisted of two rooms measuring between six and eight mats, as well as indoor washing facilities. Amid the growing number of campaigns for improved sanitation,49 research was conducted by the Institute of Labour Science. This would be published after the war, in 1946, in the first two issues of the institute’s new journal, Rōdō kagaku (Labour Science). The institute derived much of its data and expertise from the creation in November 1940 of a satellite office at Mitsui’s Miike site. The aim was naturally to scientifically study ways of increasing production and stabilising the migrant workforce, but also to examine the potentially positive effects on production of improved working conditions, living conditions and nutrition. Nevertheless, the discrepancy between the vision of experts at the institute and actual working conditions at the mine quickly strained relations with Mitsui and led the office to close its doors after just 18 months. While Teruoka Gitō gave a fairly negative assessment of the efficiency of labour mobilisation in the mines, he did not place the blame directly with the mobilisation policies themselves. Despite companies’ efforts to more directly manage their operations, Teruoka believed that worker-employer relations were still overly influenced by the hanba system, leaving little hope of improving productivity while that was the case. To this end, Teruoka offered some practical advice to HR managers at the mines he visited in Kyūshū. He believed that the key to boosting production lay in better coordinating the technical and human aspects of labour. The organisation of production and workers’ lives could not be approached separately, whether at work or beyond. He particularly stressed the importance of incorporating medical care into labour organisation by making workers’ health a key part of the technical management of production.50 Accordingly, after the collapse brought about by Japan’s defeat, the biopolitical management of Japan’s mining communities was immediately considered a priority by the same experts, essentially, as during the war.

• 51 Allen, 1994, p. 57.
• 52 Sugiyama, 2012, p. 79–84.
• 53 Sengo tankō keiei shiryō Hashima 戦後炭鉱経営資料端島 [Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Hashima], no. (...)
• 54 Kusuda Sekitan Kōgyō, 1952.

32The departure of mobilised Japanese miners, the repatriation of Chinese and Korean forced labourers, the ban on women working underground, the demotivation affecting Japanese coal miners and the disorganised state of mine management all caused national production to drop to 22.3 million tonnes in 1945, from a height of 56.5 million tonnes four years earlier. Shortly after the defeat, just 100,000 coal miners remained in employment – four times less than the figure recorded a few months earlier.51 In order to restore production the government launched an emergency plan to recruit 133,730 miners in 1945, followed by 105,700 additional workers by the end of 1946. Thanks to the Priority Production (keisha seisan 傾斜生産) programme adopted by the government, the number of miners increased faster than expected, exceeding the wartime peak by reaching 469,000 workers in January 1948. Given the high mobility rate of the new miners, the priority was to stabilise the workforce across production sites. One of the key measures to do this was the mass construction of new accommodation to modernise a company housing still heavily modelled – despite the modernisation efforts of the 1920s to 1940s – on the old nagaya, in which families generally lived in one or two rooms, sharing outdoor toilets and even washing facilities. In January 1946 the government introduced its Regulations on the Construction of Housing for Coal Miners (Riji tankō rōdōsha jūtaku kensetsu kisoku 理事炭鉱労働者住宅建設規則). Initially, 5,380 housing units were to be built in 1946, followed by another 40,000 in 1947. In reality some 125,121 lodgings were ultimately constructed up to March 1949, which still only covered 27.3 percent of the housing needs of the 458,000 miners employed at the time.52 Although traditional nagaya continued to be used out of necessity, overall, material conditions improved considerably. The percentage of housing equipped with devices like televisions, for example, sometimes exceeded the national average. The unions, which enjoyed exceptional membership rates from the first years after the war, were generally involved in running company housing. At Mitsubishi Hashima the union created the Hashima Company Housing Committee (Hashima shataku kyōgikai 端島社宅協 議会) to make suggestions for improving its members’ living conditions.53 The effects of housing and stabilisation policies were evaluated via social surveys. In July 1947, the Coal Industry Confederation (Sekitan kōgyō renmei 石炭鉱業連盟) began a survey of miners’ budgets at 50 sites around the country. Around 170 pit-miner households and 400 outdoor-worker households were surveyed. Although a considerable proportion of their revenue depended directly on their work for the mining company, the proportion allocated for housing – including water and electricity – was very low. What is more, food expenditure had been stable since the end of the war.54

• 55 Mitsubishi Hashima Archives B219221, “Shokuryō kankei shorui tsuzuri” 食糧関係書類つづり [Documents on Foo (...)

33In fact, food distribution was instrumental in stabilising the workforce and here, too, the unions played a key role. Alongside pay increases and eight-hour working days, one of the first demands made by the unions in late 1945, given the food shortages of the time, was a special rice distribution system for miners. In response, the government quickly granted coal miners an extra ration of rice. At Mitsubishi Hashima, employer and union worked closely with the Nagasaki Prefectural Committee for Food Distribution in Coal mines (Nagasaki-ken tankō shuyō shokuryō haikyū shingikai 長崎県炭鉱主要食糧配給審議会), fighting side by side to retain this supplementary ration when it was threatened by a new government plan in the second half of the 1950s. Employers feared that withdrawing the ration would inevitably spur new wage demands from the unions.55

• 56 Gordon, 1997, p. 262.
• 57 Nagasaki‐ken Shinseikatsu Undō Suishin Renmei Honbu 長崎県新生活運動推 進連盟本部 [Committee to Promote the New (...)
• 58 Ibid., p. 45.
• 59 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Hashima, no. 5514–5531.

34For employers, the welfare programmes and educational campaigns – some of them developed in partnership with the unions – served to rationalise the way mining households managed their budgets and avoid unnecessary spending, as had been the case during the interwar years.56 One major campaign was the New Life Movement (Shinseikatsu undō 新生活運動), described as a “popular movement based on a spirit of community solidarity (kyōdō rentai 共同連帯) designed to raise the rationality, morality and cultural level of everyday life in order to improve individual well-being and build a healthy, pleasant-to-live-in society”.57 One of the first mines to implement such a campaign was Jōban colliery, alongside the companies Nippon Kōkan 日本鋼管 and Asō Sangyō 麻生産業. The majority of mining companies followed suit in the second half of the 1950s. These campaigns partly targeted the workplace, where they advocated creating a better environment through a focus on hygiene, cleanliness, solidarity, punctuality and removing meaningless formalities. In parallel, they focused on family and everyday life via improved nutrition, housing and family communication; they advocated savings plans and encouraged a more rational management of the household budget by distributing account books and calling for an end to bad habits.58 Various slogans were introduced at Mitsubishi Hashima as a result of writing competitions. These included “For a comfortable life, go out to work” (dekasegi o yoku shite, yutaka na seikatsu 出稼ぎを良くして、豊かな生活) and “Plan for tomorrow with today’s money” (ashita no hi no tame ni to omoe, kyō no kane 明日の日のためにと思え、今日の金), to cite just two examples.59

• 60 Ibid., no. 5540–5556.
• 61 Tanaka, 2010, p. 60.

35Given the food distribution problem and the ideals of rationalising life and building a new community-based solidarity, cooperatives came to play an important role in the lives of miners. Following Japan’s defeat, many buyers clubs were formed by residents and workers. Their rapid development led the government to promulgate the Consumer Cooperatives Act (Shōhi seikatsu kyōdō kumiai-hō 消費生活共同組合法) in 1948 to regulate their operations.60 Savings and mutual insurance plans were also developed during the 1950s, modelled on the initiatives already tested before the war. However, in the new context with its proliferation of consumer goods they helped to free workers from extortionate loans and counter the growth of traditional organisations like the rotating credit associations (mujin 無尽). In 1954 the Miike Coal Mine Housewives Committee (Miike tankō shufu kyōgikai 三池炭坑主婦協議会) conducted a survey suggesting that many miners went into debt just to survive. The following year a more extensive survey of 10,094 mining workers revealed that 43.5 percent were in debt. In response, the Miike Coal Mine Housewives Committee introduced a Campaign to Revolutionise Everyday Life (Seikatsu kakumei undō 生活革命運動) aimed at combatting waste, gambling and loan brokering.61

• 62 Ichihara, 1992, p. 28.
• 63 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Hashima, no. 5474–5490.
• 64 Mitsubishi Bibai Tankō Rōdō Kumiai, 1960, p. 186.

36These new institutions transforming the everyday life of “mining society” (tankō shakai 炭鉱社会), to borrow the words of historian Ichihara Hiroshi, appeared in the context of an increasingly gendered division of labour. Indeed, household budgets depended more and more on the man’s wages alone. While in cities the male breadwinner’s earnings represented 82.5 percent of the household budget, this rose to 95.1 percent among miners.62 In Takashima district, home to the mining islands of Takashima and Hashima, the labour participation rate for females over 15 was only 23.25 percent in 1965, compared to 86.64 percent for men. Despite their absence from the labour market, women were involved in all areas of community life through their active participation in groups like the Housewives Association (Shufukai 主婦会), the Women’s Association (Fujinkai 婦人会), the Family Education Study Group (Kazoku kyōiku gakkyū kenkyūkai 家族学究研究会) and the Takashima Education Committee (Takashima-chō kyōiku iinkai 高島町教育委員会).63 In 1953, the Housewives Association at Bibai colliery helped write a Guide to Reforming Everyday Life (Seikatsu sasshin jisshi yōkō 生活 刷新実施要綱) aimed at eliminating unnecessary spending and irrational practices.64

• 65 Sumi no hikari, 5 October 1956.
• 66 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Hashima, no. 5556–5579.
• 67 Ibid., no. 5540–5556.
• 68 Sumi no hikari, 8 August 1957.

37The initiatives to raise living standards among mining communities also focused heavily on health and well-being, continuing the efforts undertaken by experts in occupational hygiene since the 1920s. Employers successfully implemented campaigns to combat infectious diseases like dysentery. The Mitsubishi Hashima newspaper Light of Coal (Sumi no hikari 炭の光) carried a message from the company’s Hygiene Management Department (Eisei kanrika 衛生管理課) during the seventh Occupational Hygiene Week in October 1955, declaring that maintaining workers’ health was vital to productivity but that many cases of dysentery had been recorded and people should therefore wash their hands regularly.65 These recommendations led to a drop in the number of dysentery and tuberculosis cases diagnosed at Hashima during screening campaigns. From 46 recorded cases of tuberculosis in 1955, only 4 were diagnosed in 1962.66 As for dysentery, 127 cases were diagnosed at Hashima in 1956, representing 2.49 percent of the population; in 1960 this figure dropped to 18 cases (0.33 % of the local population). On the neighbouring island of Takashima, the reduction was even more spectacular, with dysentery cases falling from 652 (6.28 %) to 75 (0.63 %) over the same period.67 Light of Coal also ran seasonal campaigns, such as one in August 1957, when the newspaper made a certain number of recommendations for good “summer hygiene”. These included: not drinking unboiled water, not eating food that smelled suspicious, not eating or drinking excessively, avoiding food and drink just before bed, washing one’s hands to avoid dysentery, protecting oneself from flies and mosquitos to prevent infectious diseases, avoiding direct sunlight, wearing a hat to protect against Japanese encephalitis, going to bed early and rising early, getting enough sleep (and dressing warmly enough to not catch cold during the night).68

• 69 Thomann, 2009a & b.
• 70 Teruoka, 1948, p. 155.
• 71 Zenshin no hata, 5 April 1950.
• 72 Sumi no hikari, 5 October 1955 and 5 October 1956.
• 73 Unpublished document.

38Under the stimulus of the International Labour Organisation, doctors and labour studies experts had accumulated a considerable amount of knowledge since the interwar period in the field of occupational health, and in particular pneumoconiosis.69 Immediately after Japan’s defeat, researchers at the Institute of Labour Science resumed their work on the problem of silicosis, which had grown in amplitude due to the wartime push for productivity.70 In the 1950s this expertise was no longer limited to experts and specialist journals. Mining unions campaigned for the adoption of a law and informed miners of their progress. In April 1950, the Mitsubishi Takashima union newspaper The Flag of Progress (Zenshin no hata 前進の旗) published an article entitled “The silicosis eating away at miners’ lungs: the price of innovation”, which established a clear link between mechanisation driven by rationalisation and the deterioration of miners’ health.71 Elsewhere, Light of Coal informed workers about the adoption of the Silicosis Act in 1955 and encouraged readers to have regular medical check-ups and not wait for the first signs of the disease to appear.72 The Silicosis Act (Keihai-hō 珪肺法) of 1955 and Pneumoconiosis Act (Jinpai-hō 塵肺法) of 1960, which also covered anthracosis, established screening procedures and a system of compensation. Following the adoption of the Pneumoconiosis Act, the union Tanrō 炭労 campaigned for collective agreements to be signed. As a result, a convention was signed in December 1962 by Asō coal mine and its union (Asō kōgyō rōdō kumiai rengōkai 麻生鉱業労働組合連合会). This agreement stipulated that miners suffering from silicosis and transferred to a new position outside the mine could receive compensation corresponding to 90 days’ pay based on their salary at the time of transfer. It also provided for the free distribution of masks to miners exposed to dust in jobs identified as at risk by the Pneumoconiosis Act.73 New company hospitals were also built as well as public industrial accident hospitals (rōsai byōin 労災病院), established in towns in the vicinity of mines.

• 74 Thomann, 2014.

39The interwar efforts to rationalise daily life continued after the war as the government, unions, associations and employers worked to reform the household management practices of a mining class contemptuously referred to as nonde kutte-chan 飲んで食ってちゃん (“those who do nothing but eat and drink”). However, the rationalisation process was not without its contradictions. While the mining conglomerates were able to take almost complete control of a work culture originally characterised by a certain autonomy, they did not free miners from many of the risks inherent to the profession. Miners continued to develop pneumoconiosis and be exposed to more immediate risks caused by the decline of the coal-mining industry in the late 1950s.74 Improved living standards and greater material security were not the only consequences of rationalisation and increased productivity: there was also an intensification of labour, bringing with it new risks.

• 75 Fujimoto, 1967.

41Just as redundancy plans reduced the mining population in the 1950s, mechanisation considerably intensified the pace of work, causing a spike in the number of accidents. According to an article published in Rōdō kagaku in 1967, the rate of fatal accidents in large mines rose from 3.89 accidents per million work days in 1958 to 11.4 for the period 1962–1965. As for the fatality rate from workplace accidents, meaning the number of deaths per 30,000 days of work, Japan recorded a much higher figure between 1955 and 1964 than Great Britain (+ 400 %), Germany (+ 200 %) and Holland (+ 600 %) over the same period. Japan’s high rate of accidents can be attributed mainly to social and economic conditions, with a working day that often exceeded 10 hours in addition to rapid mechanisation, labour intensification, the handling of heavy materials like steel pillars, the growth of outsourcing, and low salaries.75 The archives at Meiji Hirayama show that miners in the 1960s sometimes worked for three or four months nonstop, without taking a single day off, not even Sundays.

• 76 Kamata, 2007.

42The 1960s were also marked by the deaths of 458 labourers at Miike mine and 237 at Yamano. Kamata Satoshi postulates that the explosions at Miike in 1963 and 1965 were a direct result of the management’s victory in the 1959–1960 labour dispute and the subsequent replacement of the militant union, eloquently illustrating one of its slogans: “No safety without resistance” (teikō nakushite anzen nashi 抵抗なくして安全なし). The number of subcontracted workers rose significantly following these events. The explosion, caused by an accumulation of cobalt dust on the conveyor system, was not only attributable to the reduced number of miners but also to a breakdown in solidarity and communication in the pit: despite subcontracted workers’ having warned the permanent miners about the dangerous state of the conveyor, their warnings went unheeded.76

• 77 Shinoyama, 1966.
• 78 Shinoyama, 1967.

43The deteriorating conditions in the mines were seen by workers as a direct consequence of the rationalisation policies implemented since the 1950s. In 1964 and 1965 the Institute of Labour Science conducted a survey of 2,000 workers, financed by the Ministry of Education and carried out in eight mines of varying size (six in Kyūshū and Honshū, and two in Hokkaidō). When asked about the effects of rationalisation measures within the industry, 53 percent of respondents felt that workloads had increased and 33 percent that work had become more stressful. Conversely, 24 percent felt that there were more safety checks and 12 percent that fatigue had decreased.77 When workers were questioned about the main causes of workplace accidents, the most frequent answer was the prioritising of productivity over safety, followed in second and third place by miners’ vigilance and compliance with safety procedures. Many miners criticised the lack of union action in this area, as well as the inefficiency of labour inspections. Some even accused management of concealing the true reality of accidents from inspectors.78

• 79 Thomann, 2014.
• 80 Kōin taishokusha meibo 鉱員退職者名簿 [Register of Miners Leaving the Company], Meiji Hirayama mine 明治平山, (...)
• 81 The “new Miike union” (Miike shinrō 三池新労), encouraged by management during the long conflict of 19 (...)
• 82 Kamata, 2007.

44Miners who had suffered a workplace accident or were afflicted with an occupational disease were not always recognised as victims with a right to compensation.79 This phenomenon is well documented in company archives and pneumoconiosis lawsuits: generally, the unions did not defend miners, who were often laid off due to their inability to work as before. Many of the files of workers dismissed from Meiji Hirayama between January and March 1964 cite illness as the cause for dismissal. Although the majority cite “non-work-related illness” (gyōmugai shippei 業務外疾病), the young age of most of the miners casts serious doubt on this assessment. And these doubts are only reinforced by the particularly high number of compensation requests rejected by the company, suggesting a reluctance to recognise illness and injury as directly resulting from mining work.80 What is more, when families demanded financial compensation for the carbon monoxide poisoning that left many miners permanently incapacitated (as was the case 10 years after the Miike explosion in 1963), the “new labour union81” did nothing, leaving that task to external activists like those who had been involved in the Minamata affair.82

• 83 Tokita, 1989, p. 67.

47Whereas the interwar period had seen the introduction of longwall mining, the 1950s saw a new transformation with the emergence of kappe mining (kappe saitan カッペ採炭), named after the steel pillars with horizontal extensions that held the ceiling in place on a larger section, leaving more space at the coalface and on the entire longwall section. This system, which enabled the use of heavier and more powerful cutting machines, provided more room in the gallery for a conveyor belt and made it possible to fully automate the evacuation process. The mining profession was radically transformed by a greater division of labour and the appearance of new skills. As highlighted earlier, the productivity gains afforded by new technology increased the risk of accidents, and more generally presented a particular challenge for the unions, who had to fight to maintain production standards that would not lead to a cut in pay. A study carried out in 1953 shows that in February 1952 the union at Nikkan Takamatsu led a 24-hour strike in response to the introduction of the new kappe system, trialled since the previous year as part of a rationalisation plan. The union argued that since the system was in its pilot phase, its benefits for productivity remained unproven. Setting production standards according to this extraction rate might therefore mean a drop in wages. In order to maintain decent living standards in the mining industry, the union argued for the adoption of a “fixed salary” system (kotei-kyū 固定給). However, when the new technology was introduced, management decided there was no need to change the “efficiency-based” pay system (ukeoi-kyū 請負給) and continued to pay miners according to their ability to meet a set production target.83

• 84 Tanaka, 2010, p. 55–71.
• 85 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Meiji Hirayama, no. 6871–6880.
• 86 Ibid., no. 6750–6760.
• 87 Keiei kyōgikai were a kind of joint management committee involving employer and workers, created s (...)
• 88 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Hashima, no. 5434–5443.

48Although the average wage in the mining industry was higher than in other industrial sectors at the end of the war, statistics show that in reality it grew more slowly in the 1950s and actually ended up lower. At Miike, for example, the average male pay packet in June 1959 was 28,106 yen, compared to 30,258 yen for Fukuoka Prefecture in general.84 The mining industry was also one of the last to implement the minimum wage introduced by law in 1959, only applying it in 1963 and under certain conditions: for example, mines that were not one of the sector’s 18 leading firms had a further two years to implement it. While union efforts had secured wages based largely on stable factors such as skills, age, seniority and marital status, miners often had to work overtime to truly make ends meet. At Meiji Hirayama, most miners did an average of 20 to 60 minutes of overtime per weekday, although most overtime was done by working all weekend.85 It is also surprising to see how much the wages of pit miners responsible for extraction varied from one month to the next depending on the number of days they worked.86 Several hypotheses might explain this variation: one is a cut in worktime by employers in order to adjust production in a waning industry; another is miners’ becoming trapped in a kind of vicious circle. A miner who had been ill or injured due to overwork might try to make up his lost pay by working overtime, leading him to fall sick or get injured again. The head of human resources at Mitsubishi Hashima admitted at a “management committee” meeting (keiei kyōgikai 経営協議会) in 1963 that too much unnecessary overtime was done as a result of excessive absenteeism.87 And it was precisely unnecessary overtime that caused this high absenteeism.88

• 89 Tanaka, 2010, p. 64.
• 90 Post-war Coal Mine Management Archives: Meiji Hirayama, 15–15 / 216–219.
• 91 Mitsubishi Bibai Tankō Rōdō Kumiai, 1960, p. 188.
• 92 Ibid.

49At certain large mines like Miike, the more stable remuneration system that had initially been won – more stable because it was based on a rotation of miners across different coalfaces with varying productivity rates – was dropped after the 1960 labour dispute and the defeat of the union. It was replaced by the former ukeoi system, which linked miners’ pay to production targets and thus encouraged competition.89 The generally deteriorating working conditions at large mines can also be attributed to the growing number of non-regular miners. There was a kind of “rolling back” of the direct management policies implemented since the end of WWI. At Meiji Hirayama for example, in September 1950 there were 1,108 regular miners (zaiseki 在籍) and 428 regular workers outside of the pit, with no temporary workers (rinjifu 臨時夫) or subcontractors (ukeoi-fu 請負夫) employed underground. The 174 temporary labourers employed by the company worked aboveground. By January 1965 there were only 415 regular miners and 124 regular employees working outside the pit. But now there were 58 subcontracted labourers, 55 of whom worked directly on the coalface.90 Companies also began to use subsidiaries (kogaisha 子会社) to mine older and less profitable seams, or to extract the remaining coal, which was then sold back in its entirety to the parent company. At Mitsubishi Bibai, the majority of miners employed by the newly created subcontracting firm were former Mitsubishi employees who were soon joined by workers from other companies and by the adult children of Mitsubishi miners. Of the 714 miners employed in 1960 by Kitabishi Sangyō (北菱産業), a Mitsubishi subsidiary, 20 percent were the children of Mitsubishi miners and 20 percent were Mitsubishi retirees, with external recruits accounting for 60 percent.91 In some cases large companies did not stop at creating subsidiaries; they disappeared and were replaced by a “second company” (dainikaisha 第二会社), which could then renegotiate working conditions to the detriment of miners. Yamano Mitsui mine, which closed in 1963 claiming a deficit, was reopened by a “second company” with working conditions clearly inferior to those previously enjoyed. From an average pit miner’s salary of 32,382 yen in March 1962 – a sum which exceeded the average salary of workers from the same category in the country’s leading mines (29,279 yen) – workers at the second company saw their average earnings drop to 26,000 yen in September 1964, less than the 27,300-yen average salary of miners at large mines. The proportion of subcontracted workers (kumifu 組夫) also rose considerably. During the period of direct management at Mitsui there were around 600 kumifu and 3,000 regular miners. Following the creation of the second company, the number of regular miners fell by two thirds, while the number of kumifu remained stable. Nationally, the number of regular workers shrank from 238,274 to 117,285 between 1960 and 1965, while the number of kumifu remained virtually unchanged, going from 27,385 to 21,378 over the same period.92

• 93 Yoshihara, 1965, p. 60–64.

50At its heart, the policy of reselling mines to a second company was not an attempt to rebuild the industry. As underlined by Yoshihara Masashi, it was a capitalist manoeuvre designed to boost profits in a doomed industry to the detriment of working and living conditions. The government’s aim via its “scrap and build” (sukurappu ando birudu スクラップ・アンド・ビルド) policy was the following: in exchange for a radical restructuring of the workforce and the purchase of 20 million tonnes of coal, the surviving companies were expected to modernise and mechanise their operations for a better concentration of resources and improved productivity. In reality, mining companies continued to operate in a way that illustrated the industry’s inability to escape its reliance on low salaries and poor working conditions, despite the rationalisation and modernisation policies introduced for its benefit.93

• 94 Garon, 1997.
• 95 Gordon, 1998.

51Within the mining industry, unions and associations played an active role in stabilising and standardising miners’ lives. Unions, consumer cooperatives and housewives’ associations worked alongside employers and labour experts in an attempt to “mould Japanese minds”, to borrow the words of historian Sheldon Garon.94 Civil society actively participated in these rationalisation policies, which in Foucauldian terms represented a “power-knowledge system”, a system designed to help eradicate a particular working culture and raise workers’ living standards. It would be an oversimplification to reduce the economic, social and cultural changes seen in mining communities to a failure of the working-class dream of autonomy faced with the growing “Gramscian” hegemony of capitalist values, as historian Andrew Gordon has done.95 At the same time, we must move past the narrative of a social compromise driven by productivity and rationalisation policies which swept the working class along in a virtuous, Fordist circle towards security. An examination of the social history of mining communities from the 1920s to 1960s reveals a discrepancy between the increased stability of miners’ lives thanks to advances in health and welfare policies, and the increased physical and financial risks these same workers faced due to rationalisation policies. This discrepancy can be explained in various ways. One explanation is the mining culture, in which the hard and dangerous work associated with the profession had always been a badge of honour for the workers themselves; another is the peculiar nature of certain illnesses like pneumoconiosis, which generally went undetected while the miner was working. Other factors more directly linked to the aims of rationalisation policies must also be taken into account. The advances in health management for miners were always as much about selection and control as they were about protection, at least at the large mines. What is more, from the late 1950s onwards the uncertainty surrounding the declining industry meant that rationalisation was no longer a process in which experts and employers tried to balance short-term benefits against long-term retention and reproduction of the workforce. Rationalisation essentially became synonymous with cost-cutting, redundancies and increased mechanisation developed with neither adequate safety measures nor long-term perspectives. In this respect, changes within the labour movement certainly played a role. After the aggressive stance adopted in the second half of the 1940s and early 1950s, the unions took a more timid approach in the 1960s, with action less focused on working conditions and more on protecting jobs. In a rapidly restructuring industry, none of the defence strategies open to the unions could truly meet workers’ legitimate desires for increased security and better living standards in a booming economy. Precisely because these miners belonged to more stable communities, which allowed their families to enjoy a wide range of social services befitting the new middle class, and because an exit strategy meant a decline in social status, they had no alternative but to accept the partial drop in living standards that accompanied labour intensification and increased occupational risks.