1 Introduction

A significant proportion of the official development assistance (ODA) provided by the Japanese government consists of support for the development of infrastructure such as roads, bridges, tunnels, ports, airports, railways, dams, irrigation, water supply, sewerage, and telecommunications. The Management Council for Infrastructure Strategy was established by the Japanese government in March 2013, and a policy was formulated to spread Japanese technology and systems—the “Japanese way”—through the use of ODA and related initiatives. The government went on to announce the Partnership for Quality Infrastructure in May 2015, demonstrating to the international community its commitment to promoting efforts to build “quality infrastructure” in collaboration with other countries and international organizations. This emphasis on support for developing infrastructure is anticipated to continue (Nakamura 2017).

What, then, does it mean to “build infrastructure” in a Japanese context? That is, what is seen as the purpose of building infrastructure, and what are the perceptions of how it should be done? Related to this issue, Aaron Stephen Moore (2013) reveals how important the “technological imaginary” was in the building of domestic and international infrastructure during and after the WWII. According to Moore, in the process of nation-building in Japan, intellectuals, bureaucrats, and engineers used the word “technology (技術)” as an ideology loaded with meanings such as rationality and efficiency in order to define “modernity (近代)” and to mobilize the population toward that goal. As a result, technology as a whole represented a system of power that dynamically incorporates people’s hopes and desires into mechanisms of social control. This ideological system of power, Moore argues, was carried over into the postwar period through such key institutions as Japan’s management system and the idea of a “construction state,” and formed the basis for Japan’s overseas development assistance.

On the other hand, if we move away from this policy aspect and look at the actual practice of building infrastructure, we find an inherent logic that cannot be fully understood by the “technological imaginary.” The concept of “doboku” is key when considering this logic. In Japan, “doboku kōgaku” (the discipline of civil engineering) refers to the techniques and knowledge used to build infrastructure and fundraising. The process of building infrastructure is referred to in terms of “doboku jigyō” (civil engineering projects) or “doboku kōji” (civil engineering works). The Japanese term doboku has been used since the Meiji era (1868–1912) as a translation of “civil engineering” in English. However, the historical background of doboku sets it apart from its closest English equivalent. Translating doboku merely as civil engineering, therefore, prevents a full understanding of its nuance and connotations. In this chapter, I will highlight the characteristics of the doboku concept through an analysis of the historical processes that led to its emergence and significance. Through this work, I aim to contribute to an understanding of both the distinctiveness and the universality of the Japanese approach to building infrastructure in the context of development assistance.

2 The Emergence of Doboku

The Japanese word doboku (土木) and its Chinese equivalent have been used since ancient times. For example, the use of the term doboku in Japan can be traced back to dictionaries and texts from the Heian period (794–1185). The mention of doboku in these texts generally refers to the construction or repair of large buildings, such as palaces or temples, or associated techniques. The term doboku subsequently fell out of use, however, between the Kamakura and the Edo periods (1185–1868), when Japan was ruled by successive samurai governments. Instead, the term “fushin” (“construction” or “public works”)—which will be described later—was used to refer to infrastructure building (Fujita 1993; Komatsu 2018; Matsuura 2020).

Doboku reappeared from the Meiji era (1868–1912) onward, displacing the term fushin of the Edo period and becoming the more commonly used term. A search of the Yomiuri Shinbun newspaper database, for example, reveals 3,327 instances of the term doboku from 1875 to 1989. By contrast, there are 224 instances of fushin, with the term falling out of everyday use (except as an historical term) from 1941 onward. The Japanese term doboku (written in Chinese characters) was also adopted into the Chinese language in the twentieth century (Cheng 1997).

What led to this revival in the use of the term doboku? The Meiji government, formed in 1968, worked to solidify Japan’s centralized national system of government in order to resist external pressure from European countries and the United States. The government sought to build a new nation based on the ideals of enriching the nation, strengthening the military, and encouraging new industries. By enhancing Japan’s economic and military strength, the government aimed to build a modern nation. The encouragement of new industries was a means to achieve this aim, and was reflected in policies to protect and foster Japan’s industries. Specific policies were many and diverse, but one of the main pillars was the building of infrastructure nationwide. The government actively introduced technologies from Europe and the United States, where the industrial revolution had ushered in modernity, and pursued the building of social infrastructure, such as rivers, railways, and ports as public works. As a result, the modernization of Meiji Japan was accomplished over a short period of time, over a broad area, and in multiple fields simultaneously (Ishizuka 1973; Kitagawa 2020).

The Minbukan Doboku-shi (loosely translated as the Public Affairs Civil Engineering Office) was established in 1869 as a body to administer infrastructure under the Meiji government. Subsequently, after various permutations, the Minbukan Doboku-shi was restructured into the Doboku-kyoku (Civil Engineering Office) of the Ministry of Home Affairs, continuing to oversee the administration of infrastructure until 1941. The revival of the term doboku is attributable to its use in the names of these administrative bodies under the new Meiji government (Twenty Year History of the Ministry of Construction Editing Committee 1968).

Why, then, did the Meiji government adopt the term doboku from the Heian era, when fushin had been in general use throughout centuries of samurai governments? Regarding this point, Tatsuyuki Fujita (1993) cites the fact that the Meiji government was formed on the basis of the Decree for the Restoration of Imperial Rule, which abolished samurai government and ostensibly reestablished a political system revolving around the Japanese Emperor. He conjectures that the new government therefore avoided the term used during the era of samurai government, opting rather for “doboku-shi,” the term favored in the Ritsuryō system of the Heian period (Fujita 1993, p. 154), more readily associated with Imperial governance. Doboku thus became commonly adopted as the translation of “civil engineering” as a result of historical chance.

Another important factor leading to the term doboku taking root in the lexicon of modern Japanese society was the establishment of the Japan Society of Civil Engineers (Doboku Gakkai). This organization traces its roots back to the engineering society formed by the first graduates of the Imperial College of Engineering in 1879 with the aim of promoting engineering research and the exchange of knowledge. At the time, the Society covered all fields of engineering, including all seven disciplines taught in the Imperial College of Engineering: civil engineering (doboku), electrical engineering, mechanical engineering, construction (architecture), chemical engineering, mining, and metallurgy. With the subsequent trend toward more clearly delineated specializations, however, independent societies were progressively established in each engineering field: the Japan Mining Institute (1885), the Architectural Institute of Japan (1886), the Institute of Electrical Engineers of Japan (1888), the Society of Naval Architects of Japan, The Japan Society of Mechanical Engineers (1897), and the Chemical Society of Japan (1898). As a result, the remaining members of the engineering society mostly comprised those specializing in civil engineering. It was in this context that the Japan Society of Civil Engineers (JSCE) was established in 1914 (JSCE 2014).

The first Chairman of the JSCE, Koi Furuichi responded to this trend toward the clearer separation of specializations in his inaugural speech, arguing that “integration is the essence of civil engineering (doboku kōgaku).”

The Society must therefore not limit the scope of its research to civil engineering (doboku) alone, but must expand it to include all aspects of engineering. Unlike the previous engineering society, however, which undertook a balanced approach to research across all engineering disciplines, all of the Society’s research must focus on civil engineering (doboku). In other words, the Society’s research must expand outwards in all directions from the core of civil engineering (doboku). This is the method and degree of specialization that I advocate for the Society (Furuichi 1915, pp. 3–4).

The overall trend toward specialization was unstoppable, however, and the concept of doboku was shaped through differentiation with other engineering fields, especially the field of architecture that similarly emerged during the Meiji era. For example, as described above, under the Meiji government, the building of infrastructure was made the responsibility of administrative bodies with the term doboku in their titles, while the Ministry of Finance—a different body altogether—was made responsible for public architecture. Thus, the administration of infrastructure development was clearly separated from the construction of public buildings. As a result, “doboku” (civil engineering) and “kenchiku” (architecture) were framed as entirely separate concepts under Japanese law, referring to the construction of infrastructure and the construction of buildings, respectively. Specifically, Japanese doboku engineers design and build roads, dams, bridges, and the like, but not buildings. By contrast, the concept of civil engineering in English refers not only to infrastructure but buildings as well, a difference that indicates the misunderstandings that may arise from directly translating doboku as “civil engineering” (Yoshimi 2017).

3 The Lack of a Philosophy of “Doboku”

The concept of doboku emerged from the names given to administrative bodies in the Meiji government. What, then, was the philosophical and ideological base underpinning this concept? That is, what was seen as the purpose of building infrastructure, and what were the perceptions of how it should be done? I would like to consider this question through a comparison with the English term civil engineering, which also refers to the building of infrastructure, and the term fushin, used up until the Edo period.

Civil engineering is a relatively new concept, taking root in English only in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. “Engineering” originally referred to “military engineering”—the manufacture of military equipment and facilities such as cannons, warships, assault towers, and the like. The term “civil engineering” was coined in England, the home of the industrial revolution, as a concept differentiated from previous military engineering.

The Englishman John Smeaton (1724–1792) is said to be the first person in the world to call himself a “civil engineer.” In 1771, Smeaton established The Society of Civil Engineers, making the role of civil engineers—building infrastructure associated with the lives of civilians, such as roads, water supply, canals—known to society. The Institution of Civil Engineers was subsequently established in 1818 and granted Royal Chartership in 1828, formally recognizing civil engineering as a profession. The definition of civil engineering presented in the Charter of the time—“the art of directing the great sources of power in nature for the use and convenience of man”—continues to inform the concept of civil engineering worldwide today (The Institution of Civil Engineers 1978; Takegami 2013; Watson 1988).

In this way, the idea of civilian engineering was at the heart of the concept of the “civil engineer” that emerged in eighteenth-century England. These were the civilian engineers that replaced the artisans and builders who had previously been directly contracted by business operators to build stone bridges and similar projects. Unlike their predecessors, civil engineers incorporated the latest technologies produced in the industrial revolution to undertake the construction of large-scale, complex projects, such as canals. Instead of being contracted directly by business operators, they acquired permits and certification from government administrative bodies, performing a role similar to that of a consultant by directing subcontractors in various trades and overseeing entire projects, from the planning and design stage to construction management (Kitagawa 2020).

Incidentally, “mintaikei (民大計),” a translation of civil engineer that appears in an English-Chinese dictionary from the late Edo period, roughly meant “civilian project manager” (Lobscheid 1886). This indicates the historical process whereby the work of measuring and cartography became independent of the military and shifted into the civilian domain, and hints at the extensive range of duties and authorities exercised by civil engineers. By contrast, English-Japanese dictionaries compiled after the start of the Meiji era translate civil engineering as “dobokujutsu (doboku techniques)” (Seki 1884) and “doboku kōgaku (doboku engineering)” (Nomura and Shimoyama 1886). This change in translation is thought to result simply from the of the adoption of the term doboku in the names of government administrative bodies from the Meiji era onward, over and above any consideration given to the connotations of the word “civil” in English. In fact, doboku is variously translated in Japanese-English dictionaries of the time as “building” (Hashio 1887), and “engineering work” (Brinkley et al. 1896), with no reference at all to the concept of “civil.” In other words, the correspondence between doboku and civil engineering generally accepted today is but the result of historical chance.

Next, let us turn to the term fushin, which is used to denote the building infrastructure up to the end of the Edo period. Fushin is composed of the two characters “fu 普,” meaning common or general, and “shin 請,” meaning to beg or request. The term came from the Zen Buddhism of China’s Tang dynasty, when temples would request the general population to perform duties such as picking flowers for the Flower Festival (to celebrate Buddha’s birthday), airing books (to prevent insect infestation), picking tea leaves, and end-of-year cleaning, or where practitioners from Zen temples would enter the community en masse to engage in labor. Subsequently, in Japan, the term became linked to ritagyō (altruistic practices), one of the most important practices in Mahayana Buddhism for monks to attain the salvation of mankind.

For example, the monk Gyoki (668–749), active from the Asuka period to the Nara period, traveled on foot across Japan, collecting funds and labor far and wide through fushin to promote infrastructure projects around the country, in areas such as irrigation, water supply, reservoirs, roads, ports, and bridges. His achievements were recognized in 743 when he was appointed Kanjin (an official authorized to collect donations for a temple) by Emperor Shomu for the construction of the Great Buddha statue in Tōdai-ji Temple. He succeeded in collecting a massive amount of money and labor to complete the statue. The activities of Buddhist monks such as Gyoki were partly responsible for the adoption of the term fushin to refer to works such as the construction of temples and shrines, as well as roads, bridges, and other structures, through the communal labor of the local population, and thence, to infrastructure projects in general.

Consequently, the term fushin does not refer simply to the building of infrastructure; as a concept, it also connotes thoughts and beliefs regarding the purpose of infrastructure projects and the way that they should be carried out. In other words, fushin implies a form of social welfare activity based on the Buddhist idea of “ritagyō” (altruistic practices), and suggests the idea that infrastructure projects should be carried out through a joint effort by the local community. This ideology can also be observed in the book Yumenoshiro (Instead of Dreams) by the merchant-scholar Yamagata Banto, written in the late Edo period.

“Fushin” is composed of the characters meaning common and request. It means to ask for and receive help […] When a carpenter or laborer is employed to build a building, this is called construction. It is not fushin (Quoted in Sakado 2008).

This comparison between the meanings of the two terms civil engineering and fushin is instructive in a number of ways. First, doboku refers to public works projects directed by governments and public administrative bodies: private-sector engineers and local communities are not primarily responsible for their execution. In order to catch up with countries in Europe and the United States—the ultimate challenge for Meiji Japan—it was more effective for public administrative bodies to systematically absorb and implement the latest technologies. Thus, Matsumura (1985) glosses doboku as “engineering by bureaucrats.”

Second, doboku itself was therefore devoid of philosophy. According to Daijiro Kitagawa, the power of science and technology was limited in Japan until the end of the Edo period, due to the use of traditional materials such as earth, wood, and stone, as well as the application of only rudimentary mathematical analysis. As a result, people did not overly rely on technology, aiming instead for more inclusive solutions by mobilizing all of the wisdom and knowledge of nature and society that experience allowed them. These solutions were perhaps not perfect, but they represented the conceptual ability of people able to coexist with contradictions and inconsistencies. Modern engineering, by contrast, contains within it the aspiration to control nature through the power of science (Kitagawa 2020).

Of course, modern engineering technology has close associations with social thought, as illustrated by the involvement of Marxists and socialists such as William Morris and John Ruskin in town planning in England. In Japan, however, from the Meiji era onward, the introduction of modern engineering technology has been accompanied by the abandonment of traditional technologies and the philosophies attached to them. Ryotaro Shiba has characterized this attitude as “the exaltation of technology” (“gijutsu sukōshugi 技術崇高主義”—literally “technological sublimism”), describing Japan’s lack of philosophy or beliefs regarding how the massive power of doboku technology should be used, or how the country should be shaped (Shiba 1996, pp. 151–152). The philosophy and beliefs attached to “civil engineering” and fushin have been forced to fade into the background, at least to the extent that the building of infrastructure has become its own goal, as expressed in the doboku concept. In Japan today, building a house is referred to as fushin, and there are related terms as “yasu bushin 安普請” (to build a house cheaply) and “fushin dōraku 普請道楽” (to enjoy building and repairing a house), but they are no longer commonly used.

4 Negative Images of “Doboku”

Doboku was a concept focused on technology, without incorporating a philosophy of how or why this technology should be used. Essentially, not enough effort was made to establish its social purpose. The question of “what is doboku?” was therefore a key issue from the start, especially for the JSCE. In the self-reflective process of addressing this question, the problem of negative connotations of doboku became a focus of attention. For example, in 1915, immediately after the JSCE was formed, its members expressed concern over the negative images of “scandal” and “impurity” that had become associated with the word doboku. In 1950, Haruo Matsuo conjectured that the crude and vulgar impression associated with doboku was due to the meaning of the word in ancient Chinese and Japanese: “careless or unadorned in appearance.” He goes on to describe the people employed in doboku as follows:

Those employed in doboku simply provided labor and were as a whole devoid of culture, education, or refinement...This was not only the case in the distant past. Has it not also been the case until relatively recently? Building and civil engineering contractors are often described on the level as pan-pan girls [prostitutes mainly catering to Japanese and US military officers in the confusion of postwar Japan]. Until quite recently, doboku was regarded as the standard destination for engineering students who were more interested in drinking than study (Matsuo 1950, p. 1).

Why, then, did doboku become associated with these negative images? Satoshi Nakao addresses this question from an ethnological perspective, pointing out that historically, groups in Japanese society that were subject to discrimination, such as the “hinin,” “sakanomono,” and “kawaramono,” tended to be involved in infrastructure-building projects. He mentions the concept of “bondo” from the Heian period (794–1185), a term that refers to the idea that the act of changing the natural shape of the ground through human involvement would invoke the wrath of the local gods, as the background for this tendency. Nakao cites the historical association of groups subject to discrimination with sorcery and supernatural ability as a possible factor underlying their involvement in infrastructure projects. In other words, these groups had the ability to overcome the danger of bondo (Nakao et al. 2015; Nakao 2018). This idea also sheds light on the historical involvement of Buddhist monks in building infrastructure, separately from the concept of fushin originating in temple construction. Hideyuki Ichikawa, for example, suggests that the leading role played by Buddhist monks in infrastructure projects was attributable to their ability to negotiate with and appease the local gods (Ichikawa 2009).

Another source of the negative images associated with doboku is criticism toward public works. As described above, from the Meiji era onward, doboku projects came to refer to public works projects directed by administrative bodies. This trend continued during the postwar period from 1945 onward. Infrastructure projects, such as forest and river management, the construction of roads and expressways, ports and airports, the bullet trains and subways, electrical power, water supply, and sewerage were progressively implemented, based on blueprints included in the Comprehensive National Development Plan. This infrastructure helped drive Japan’s rapid economic growth in the 1960s.

At the same time, however, criticism of public works, beginning with the movement to oppose the construction of the Nagara River Estuary Weir, extended beyond the debate on individual perspectives such as “development” and the “environment,” and emerged as a social issue. This criticism of public works was not limited to technological aspects, but also included social issues, as well as criticism of aspects such as the high-cost structure of public works, the nature of the construction industry, and the public works decision-making process. Anticipating later movements, it became an opportunity to ask wide-ranging questions about how public works should be undertaken (JSCE 2014).

On this point, Kosuke Tanaka has conducted a quantitative analysis of the treatment of public works in newspapers in postwar Japan. According to this analysis, public works emerged as the subject of newspaper reporting in the 1970s, around the time of the Kakuei Tanaka government. Newspapers initially presented a balance of critical and positive opinions, but critical opinions became dominant from the 1980s onward, reaching a peak during the 2000s (Tanaka 2016). These criticisms toward public works can be summarized as follows. The first type is criticism of vested interests associated with public works: specifically, criticism of the opaque systems that governed public works, including aspects such as the cozy relationship between politics and public works, collusion, and the movement of public officials into the private sector, which gave rise to the derogatory term “dōken kokka” (the “civil engineering state”). The second type is criticism related to the impact on the natural environment, which takes issue with the destruction of nature arising from projects such as estuary weirs, dams, and the reclamation of tidal flats. The third type is criticism related to public financing, which blames the reckless implementation of public works for a deterioration in Japan’s fiscal deficit and debt (Yamaoka 2014; Tanaka 2016).

In response to this critical trend, in 1987, the JSCE held a study group called “A Consideration of the Arguments for Renaming Doboku.” Those who advocated replacing the term doboku argued that, among other things, “the term has a bad image in general” and that “(therefore) promising young students do not choose to study in this field.” No conclusion was reached, however, regarding a new term that could replace doboku (Nakase and Kobayashi 1987, p. 24; Fujita 1993, p. 147). Changing tack, the JSCE designated November 18, 1987 “Doboku Day” as part of its efforts to improve the image associated with the term.

At the same time, university civil engineering (doboku) departments attempted to remedy the decline in the number of prospective students by changing their departmental names to various combinations of the words “environmental,” “social,” and “urban” (although the term “civil engineering” was retained in the English departmental names)—a trend that continued until around the turn of the millennium (Hitomi et al. 2018). There have also been attempts to renew the image associated with the Chinese characters for doboku in Japanese by rewriting them in a Japanese phonetic syllabary (katakana). In recent years, these efforts have developed into “doboku entertainment” aimed at the appreciation of massive (doboku/civil engineering) buildings and structures. The effectiveness of these efforts, however, has yet to be ascertained.

5 Attempts to Establish a Philosophy of “Doboku”

Even as the term doboku is plagued by negative images—so much so that an academic society and numerous university departments considered or actually proceeded in changing their names—there have also been attempts to establish a philosophy of doboku. These efforts take the form of an explanation of the historical origin of the concept of doboku adopted early in the Meiji era, accompanied by an attempt to establish a new philosophy: an initiative that has no evidential basis and, in reality, amounts to the “invention of tradition” (Hobsbawm and Ranger 1983).

For example, the Civil Engineering Handbook (Doboku Kōgaku Handobukku) compiled by the JSCE in 1989 cites the ancient Chinese theory of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements—wood, fire, earth, gold, and water—of which all things are composed, to expound the idea that earth (do) is the central element, while wood (boku) represents the season of spring. Thus, in the concept of doboku, “the two elements of earth (do) and wood (boku) were chosen to represent new, advanced technologies that would be crucial for humans and nature” (JSCE 1989, p. 5).

In 2002, Norihito Tambo, then Chairman of the JSCE, suggested that the origin of the term doboku lies in the expression “chikudo kōboku” (literally, construction from earth and wood), which appears in the ancient Chinese text Huainanzi (Tambo 2002). Satoshi Fujii has adopted this theory of “chikudo kōboku” in his attempt to create a systematic philosophy of doboku. According to Fujii, chikudo kōboku refers to the work of saints to improve living conditions by piling earth (chikudo) and building with wood (kōboku) to save the people struggling to survive in a harsh environment and enable them to live in safety and security. Based on this interpretation, Fujii refutes the explanation in the Civil Engineering Handbook (Doboku Kōgaku Handobukku), as follows:

This suggests that not only is the work of chikudo kōboku (=doboku) completely different from the self-interested actions of businessmen only interested in their own welfare or the contemptible acts of politicians hungry for power: it is the exact opposite. It is, in fact, “ritagyō” (altruistic practices) itself, practiced by “saints” and “princes,” those who seek to ease the labors of the populace. From this, we can see that doboku is far from the concept imagined in the recent Civil Engineering Handbook, or by those who seem determined to denigrate it (Fujii 2014, p. 10).

Fujii goes on to interpret the English term civil engineering as the work of building civilization. “The work of gradually improving society—advancing it from a barbarian society where people steal from each other at will, and making it gradually more “civil”—is referred to as “civilization.” This, then, is the work of “civil engineering (doboku)” (Fujii 2014, p. 121)”. In this way, Fujii emphasizes the altruism and civilization associated with the concept of “doboku.” Others have also lauded the concept of “doboku” as implying the aspiration to coexist with nature that was lacking from the modern Western European concept of “civil engineering.” Mariko Takegami, for example, writes.

This word [“doboku”] brings forth primitive images of the work that humans have engaged in since the beginning of time: standing on the earth (“do”), the basis of all life, and using their ingenuity and skill to create useful things for everyday life. It anticipates the awareness of civil engineers today, as they face issues such as the global destruction resulting from human technologies and the bankruptcy of modernist perceptions of nature. Does it not represent another way forward in the relationship between human technology and nature: an alternative to conquest (Takegami 2013, p. 237)?

I am not concerned with the historical accuracy of these perceptions. Rather, the important point in the context of this paper is that members of the JSCE and others have continued to consider the question “what is doboku”—in other words, how should it be pursued, and for what purpose? Even in recent years, the JSCE has established the “Roundtable on Public Peace Research” to consider initiatives aimed at achieving ideal doboku. These include: (1) the improvement and enhancement of communication with civic society; (2) the establishment of a broad and comprehensive perspective on the social contribution made by the study of doboku; and (3) a reevaluation of the relationship between doboku and society and the economy, and the recognition of new domains as the essence of the study of doboku (JSCE Roundtable on Public Peace Research 2018). Research into the concept of doboku will no doubt continue into the future, in terms of its involvement in politics, economics, society, and the environment.

6 Conclusion: “Doboku” Redeemed

In this paper, I have presented a summary of the emergence and development of the concept of doboku. What, then, are the implications of this concept in the context of development assistance? The interesting point here is that the negative image of doboku as “crude and muddy” is conversely perceived in a positive light on the front line of development assistance.

Technical cooperation to build infrastructure is one of the main pillars of Japan’s official development assistance (ODA). This is cooperation through the work of individuals aimed at increasing the comprehensive capabilities of people in developing countries to enable these countries to address the development challenges they face. JICA, the organization charged with implementing Japan’s ODA, has established programs to dispatch Japanese volunteer workers to engage in technical cooperation overseas, including the Japan Overseas Cooperation Volunteers (JOCVs).

The concept of “genba” (“on-site” work or fieldwork “on the ground”) is emphasized in development assistance (see Chap. 3). Specifically, this refers to efforts to work together with the local communities that are the recipients of the assistance. For example, the JOCV volunteers are aimed at “working together with local communities in developing countries, cooperating to develop the local economy and society.” The idea of volunteers engaging in crude, unrefined labor—getting their hands dirty together with the locals—is a crucial part of these efforts to work together with local communities. For example, Hirokazu Ito, who worked on infrastructure development in Myanmar (Burma) during the 1950s as part of Japan’s postwar reparations, describes how Japanese engineers, unlike those from Europe or the United States, actually lived inside the local factories. He recalls the positive perception of Japanese engineers expressed by local laborers, as follows:

In the past, the British built roads here, but the British masters never worked with us together in the jungle. There was only a Burmese foreman there to oversee the work. We’re happy because the Japanese masters are working together with us. If the Japanese masters work together with us, we’re happy to do any amount of work. With the Japanese masters, we’re sure to complete the road we’re building now (Ito 1963, p. 155).

This is a good illustration of the doctrine of Japanese-style development assistance: working in the mud together with the local laborers is a way to gain their trust, and will lead to the successful completion of the development project. This doctrine is also shared by private-sector aid organizations. For example, according to Watanabe, who analyzed the assistance activities of the Japanese Organization for Industrial, Spiritual and Cultural Advancement (OISCA) in Myanmar, many of the OISCA's Japanese staff described their assistance work as “crude and muddy.” Based on this, Watanabe characterizes the OISCA’s central ethical standpoint in terms of “muddy labor.” She identifies “muddy labor” as an important way for Japanese staff and local people to come together across cultural, national, and personal boundaries (Watanabe 2019, Chap. 4).

In this way, development assistance work “on the ground” highlights the value of practical knowledge concerning doboku, and redeems its negative image as “crude and muddy.” This practical knowledge of doboku has been thoroughly ignored by previous research on the image and philosophy of the term, examined above. Conversely, it is only by removing ourselves from specifically Japanese issues, such as the ethnological background and criticism of public works, that we can see a picture emerging of the unique characteristics and potential of the practical knowledge embodied in doboku. It is also a down-to-earth philosophy that developed in the shadow of the ideology of “technology.” Development assistance is not only a policy or academic practice, but also a practice that involves local people and nature. In this sense, by taking into account the unique logic of “doboku,” we can more fully understand the characteristics of Japan’s development assistance.