
Sony unveils the “world’s smallest and lightest” digital still camera, weighing just
26 grammes. |
Gadgets
and “electronic leashes” are the rage in Tokyo where people don’t just spy on their
neighbours but on the latest star in vogue
Akihabara, Tokyo’s electronics
retail district, has been bustling since 1998, when the new economy really took off
in Japan. “New computers and cell phones with Internet access are the best-selling
products,” says Toshihiro Miyazaki, a salesman at Laox, a huge mass-consumer temple
devoted to electronics.
But another section of the store is also packed: the one selling gadgets for spying
on spouses, neighbours and co-workers–miniature digital cameras with pictures that
can be viewed from a distance, micro-chips, miniature recorders and electronic “leashes”
so small they are almost invisible. Researchers and engineers in the laboratories
of Sony, Sharp, Panasonic and others are busy developing more and more miniaturized
devices. Prices range from 30,000 yen ($255) to 200,000 yen ($1,700), and sales at
Laox have been rising since 1999. These items are especially popular with 15 to 25
year-olds (the sedai video-game generation) and with otaku (children of the virtual
empire). Others, known as the camera kozô , get their share of fun from snapping
embarrassing pictures with remote-controlled miniature cameras.
In Japan, a society influenced by Confuciansim, control over the self and others
has always been the norm. The neighbourhood police station (koban) and foot patrolmen
still frequently draw up detailed lists of local residents and inquire about the
identity of newcomers as soon as they move in. Neighbourhood committees (tonarigumi),
an institution dating back to the 16th century, were used during the Second World
War to punish activities deemed anti-Japanese. Although the committees are on the
wane, they still exist.
Today, these traditional ways of watching people seem harmless compared to the spying
being done with new electronic products. There are regular reports on television
about acts of voyeurism. Some people specialize in spying on public toilets, while
others hide cameras and microphones in the homes of friends or young, single women.
Others have turned into Internet paparazzi, broadcasting their stealthy pictures
on the Web. Recently, the marathon runner Naoko Takahashi, who has become a star
since bringing home a gold medal from the Sydney Olympics, found that her fame had
stretched beyond acceptable limits. Thousands of copies of a video featuring her
naked in her bathroom have been illegally sold. A miniature camera filmed the pictures
without her knowledge.
The Japanese are increasingly concerned about the rising number of abuses. In January,
a high school teacher was arrested for filming his students changing in the locker
room, and a cameraman from the national NHK television network filmed people at home
without their knowing it. Debate is stepping up over an inexpensive service called
Imadoko (“where are you?”), which allows parents to track their children’s every
move. A microchip built into a cell phone tells the company where the user is at
all times. At the parents’ request, the company sends them a map showing their child’s
exact whereabouts.
The Japanese feel even more anxious because the government has recently passed a
law strengthening the powers of the central police authorities (NPA) and the justice
ministry to use spying tools such as phone taps and email screening. “This law is
designed to help criminal investigations, not to interfere in people’s daily lives,”
the NPA says. But some specialists, such as Shin Mizukoshi, a media expert at Tokyo
University, are asking uneasy questions: “Has Big Brother broken into our homes?
Isn’t police interception of communications a new invasion of privacy?”
These methods are mainly used to combat computer piracy. A law “forbidding illegal
access” has just come into force – it punishes computer crimes with a year’s imprisonment
and a 500,000-yen fine ($5,000). Eighty engineer-police officers stalk criminals
at the NPA’s High-Tech Crime Technical Expert Center, a cyber-surveillance centre
with an annual budget of 190 million yen ($1.85 million).
But trouble-makers are also honing their electronics skills. Recently, a pair of
kidnappers used prepaid phones to announce their ransom demands and conditions. “The
omnipresence of advanced mobile communication systems creates new challenges,” says
an NPA official. “Compromises are necessary in the interest of the public and its
security.” As legal expert Yoichi Higuchi observes, the right to privacy may remain
“virtual” in Japan. |