[Yet another post about work. But then again, work is a big part of my life.]
In the documentary Surviving Everest, Pete Athens, six-time veteran of Everest and leader of the National Geographic 50th Anniversary Expedition to the great mountain that famously included the sons of both Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay, said this about the legendary Sherpa Norgay: "He approached the mountain as a child going into the lap of his mother. He never tried to impose his will on the mountain."
Since hearing these wise remarks, I've been asking myself if I try to impose my will on things too much, both personally and professionally. They say that damaged people need to exert control over situations and other people.
Professionally, a perfect situation for assessing that question came up this week.
I've been translating a white paper for a government ministry. The material, despite containing the usual mix of unabashed nihonjinron self-congratulation and pathological bureaucratic vagueness, was very interesting, and I really enjoyed working on it.
Until it was sent for the first revision on the government side, that is.
When it came back, they had made many changes, as is normal and natural. Translation and editing is a process, after all.
Some of the changes concerned the nuances of the original Japanese text. Not a problem.
Some of them were possibly legitimate issues of prefering certain English phrases over others. No problem there either.
But (and you knew a but was coming, didn't you?) there were also the infuriating English grammar changes. Ask yourself a question. Who knows more about English grammar (and writing style), a native-speaking English-language professional with years of experience reading, writing and editing English, or a Japanese mid-level government official with a high-intermediate grasp of the English language?
Now ask yourself another question. Who does the government official think knows more? Yes, you've got it. The government official's money is on the government official.
And therein lies the dilemma.
Do you fight these stupid changes? If you do, you might manage to make the work read better than the usual pitiful official English in Japan. But to do that, you're going to need to spend a lot of time trying to move mountains of stubbornness and take on a lot of extra stress in the process.
Or do you quietly laugh at the foolishness of their arrogance and let them believe they are right? If you take this option, you get some kind of trivial, vengeful satisfaction and much less stress, but you also have watch the quality of your work going down the toilet.
This is my professional dilemma. Do I impose my will on the monumental arrogance of Japan's elite, or do I accept that "This is Japan" and shrug it off with a shou ga nai, allowing my work to be defaced?
Not an easy choice when you actually care about your work. One thing's for sure though: I certainly don't approach working with the Japanese government as a child going into the lap of its mother.
Posted by Setsunai at March 30, 2005 6:29 PM | TrackBackI've never had to interact with the clients, but I always change the grammar back to the way I originally had it. And if they question the translator, I tell them that "my way sounds better to a native English speaker," and "who's going to be reading this anyway?" I mean, if the client is concerned that Japanese people won't understand my version, then why bother translating it in the first place? If they still absolutely insist, they know where I stand and can fuck up their own document if that's what makes them happy. It's their money.
Of course, this is all easy for me to say since I don't have to face the wrath of the client...
Posted by: Jennifer at March 31, 2005 11:06 AM | Permalink to CommentI have teachers try to tell me what's what in front of the students, and to be perfectly honest I let it slip now. I see it as a way of testing myself against things that are, ultimately, not in the slightest bit important to me. If these government officials, or, in my case, Japanese teachers of English, want to continue the perversion of the English language as it's used in Japan then I for one certainly don't feel the need to get in the way. As for the possible loss of esteem, letting someone who is evidently weaker at the subject/practice of English than you are think that they are getting it all right, I suppose that's the real test of character.
Posted by: Luke at March 31, 2005 2:08 PM | Permalink to CommentIf you're name is on it, you should feel obliged to dispute any change that makes your work look less than what you deserve. If it's not, the line is somewhat less clear (Can't you just picture some newbie office flunky who minored in English picking out minor points to conform with sentence examples in his pocket dictionary?).
Posted by: Justin at March 31, 2005 4:57 PM | Permalink to CommentJustin's right, if your name is on the piece of work then you should take an interest. But if it's not, who cares what happens to it so long as it doesn't reflect badly on you. Let the English minor have his daft little ways, using his pocket dictionary. If it's your responsibility to give him an education then straighten him out. If not, let him perpetuate his lack (and smile while he's doing it if you want).
Posted by: Luke at April 1, 2005 7:19 AM | Permalink to CommentAll fair points. My name isn't on it. If it was, there would be no dilemma. Luke, I have to say I wouldn't allow a teacher to wrongly correct me in front of the students. Surely that's time for a quiet word.
Posted by: Setsunai at April 1, 2005 10:42 AM | Permalink to Comment