When I was studying sociology at university, I researched an essay on Japanese companies. I've lost the report now, but I remember sifting through a vast bibliography of (mainly American) texts on how wonderful the Japanese corporation was, and how "we" could adopt the techniques of their corporate family. Apparently, the Japanese considered the team far more important and honourable than oneself, and thus they would cut short their lunch breaks and work a ridiculous amount of overtime, so that they wouldn't let the team down.

The authors were wetting themselves over how wonderful these selfless family members were for business, and how Western companies could learn a thing or two from Japanese human relations strategies.

I received a decent grade for my essay, citing references on how we could adapt Japanese corporate culture to improve our own workforce in Australia, by making it more family/team oriented. Instead, I should have received a big fat "F", because now I understand how wrong the culture theorists and other academics were.

One student of mine, Mitsunari, has left his family in Osaka, an industrial city almost 400 kilometres from Tokyo. He jokes with me that a money jar sits on his kitchen table in Osaka. Mitsunari's wife rings him at midnight every Saturday to make sure he is at home and not drinking with his buddies. If he doesn't pick up the phone, he has to contribute to the money jar when he returns home. But, the lid may stay on the jar for months, because his pilgrimages home are few.

It's not in the least unusual for Japanese "salary men" to leave home for an extended period, much like the samurai a couple of hundred years ago. The Japanese even have a name for these men, and an astonishing number of families outside Tokyo are left without a husband and father for up to a few years.

Another student, a manager for a chemical company, 34 year old Tadehiko, has a family in Hiroshima. That's about 700 km away. He's been in Tokyo for 6 months and doesn't know how long his company wants him to stay. Once, he attended a meeting in Hiroshima. It was on a Wednesday, allowing him to spend the evening with his family. But, the very next morning, he had to pack his bags early for the journey back to the capital. I asked why the company couldn't have had the meeting, say, on a Friday, so that Tadehiko could spend a few extra days with the family. Or, even better, give him the Thursday and Friday off and have an extended long weekend. Surely the company owes him something for leaving his wife and kids to work for the bastards. Tadehiko was amused. There's no way in hell a Japanese company like his would even contemplate such a thing.

The idea that Japanese staff are loyal and hard workers and have the attitude that the "team" comes before themselves is bullshit. Some may be hard workers, but loyalty only exists through a fear of what others might say about them. Brown-nosing is a national pastime inside the Japanese office. Staff members arrive early, skip lunch, and stay until the boss leaves, to give the impression they are working hard. This will help with their chances of promotion. Public servants are notorious for reading travel brochures, chatting among themselves and even sleeping during working hours. But, as soon as the metaphorical bell rings at the end of the day, they will start to look busy and put in extra hours to show each other and their bosses how keen they are.

I won't even mention the bureaucracy.

Actually, yes I will.

I'll start with my local gym. It took 3 hours to sign up! At one stage they wanted me to open a separate credit card account, where they would withdraw money electronically. Ludicrously, the new credit card account would automatically withdraw money from my current bank account, and then the gym would take the money from the credit card account.

I didn't want another credit card, so I asked whether I could simply pay cash.

"But, that's not how we do it," came the reply. I held my ground, and said that I wasn't willing to open an account just for the franchised gym to withdraw my money from my other account.

"Why can't you simply withdraw from my existing account?" I asked.

"Because that's not how we do it."

Many hours later and talks with the manager, I won. But, quitting the gym was a bigger problem. I found $140 a month a tad expensive, so - despite my appalling Japanese - I made it quite clear to the girl behind the desk that I was quitting.

Two months later, I received a call from the gym saying I owed them $280 for the last two months. Naturally, I was pissed-off and explained that I'd already quit.

"Did you fill out a 'quit' form?"

"No."

"Well, can you please come to the gym sometime this week and fill out a quit form and pay us 18,000 yen."

"Do you really expect me to pay 18,000 yen when I haven't even come to the fuckin' gym for two fuckin' months?"

I went to the fucking gym, with a good Japanese friend, and explained my position. We waited 30 minutes for the assistant to explain this to the manager who was hiding in the back room. I filled out the quit form and asked if I could see the manager to throttle his neck.

"I'm sorry, that's not how we do it."

This experience is the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The incompetencies of playing by the rules are overwhelming in this country, and I can understand why the Japanese recession has continued to drag on for a decade, with idiots in position of authority. I can't understand why the recession didn't hit sooner.

When I was an Army recruit, we had to fold our underpants 14cm by 14cm, and our singlets 20cm by 12 cm. The distance that separated them was supposed to be one cigarette packet. When our wardrobe was open to inspection our socks were to be rolled in such a way that they looked like they were smiling. Our section commander always said that if you can mesmerize the inspecting officer with a perfect front row, he won't bother checking the rest of the wardrobe. The Army calls it "BBB": bullshit baffles brains. So, even if I had rotten banana peels shoved at the back of the cupboard (which I didn't), as long as the front row gave the impression of perfection I'd be okay.

The Japanese company adopts the same philosophy. The only difference is that a Japanese company actually has banana peels rotting behind each door. Go to any department store, and the number of service people will overwhelm you. Bright lights, beautiful decorations, and the latest fashions and equipment greet you as you step into fantasy land. Even the service girls are trained to speak in ridiculously high-pitched sales voices.

But, if you want something slightly out of the ordinary, you'll quickly slip on the banana peels. Just last week I had to buy a mouthguard at a huge Sportsworld store. I had a little look around, but couldn't find one, so I asked one of the many employees. He nodded; he understood. I waited ten minutes, before he returned. "Just a moment please." I waited another 5 minutes before, finally, someone arrived with two types of mouthguards. I assumed that they must have run low, and needed to go to the warehouse, or something. On the way out, I saw many packaged mouthguards on sale only 20 metres from where I'd been waiting for 15 fucking minutes.

No, the Japanese corporate world isn't the model to follow for successful business. The reason the Japanese economy has done so well basically comes down to ruthless overseas domination, labour exploitation, and governmental intervention. If you want to study managerial incompetence, bureaucratic bungling, unethical human relations, and stupidity, just take a look at any medium-sized business in Japan. You may receive an "F" on your university paper, but at least you'll be right.