BOB GARFIELD: This is On the Media. I'm Bob Garfield. The Liberal Democratic Party has ruled Japan for 53 of the past 54 years, but in August the perennial opposition party, the Democratic Party, finally won control of the government in a landslide victory. It campaigned with the promise of cleaning up the corruption and coziness between government, corporations and - the media. That coziness is embodied by the press clubs of Japan. They call them Kisha Clubs. There are thousands of them located inside of every office you can imagine - government agencies, political parties, businesses, even consumer groups. Outsiders are barred and membership is exclusive, open only to journalists from major newspapers and broadcast networks. Already the newly-elected Democratic Party has tried to open up some of the government press clubs to all reporters. But the ruling party is finding that job not so easy, because the rules of the club are written by the club members themselves, not the government. So for now, the Kisha Club system remains more or less intact. Last year, we sent OTM producer Mark Phillips to Tokyo to examine this system, and this is what he found. MARK PHILLIPS: The media in Japan has its share of paradoxes. For instance, circulation numbers are huge here. In fact, Japan’s top five papers are in the top ten worldwide. And the most read paper, The Yomiuri Shimbun, has the world’s biggest circulation, almost twice USA Today, The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times, combined. The paradox? The Japanese, who read more papers per capita than anyone, except Norwegians, almost always describe their newspapers as boring. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: They go, Prime Minister Aso woke up at X hour in the morning. He took a walk for four minutes and 30 seconds. He is headed for the bar at the Imperial Hotel at night. He eats a hamburger, etc., etc. [JAPANESE] MARK PHILLIPS: Takashi Uesugi, a freelance journalist in Tokyo, has authored the book, The Collapse of Journalism, which blasts Japan’s Kisha Clubs, and he’s in the position to know. He started his career as a reporter working inside the Kisha Club system but then left to work in the government. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: When I was on the politician side, I thought, wow, what a convenient system. [LAUGHS] Oh, I utilized it every day. [LAUGHTER] MARK PHILLIPS: Uesugi was a political aide in the Liberal Democratic Party, the conservative party that’s held uninterrupted power here since 1955, minus a few months in 1993. When Uesugi needed to release bad news, he spoke only to the press inside the Party’s Kisha Club, where a club dynamic ensures one reporter doesn't print the story ahead of the pack. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: They like the convoy system; no one should stand out. If you are the only one who gets the scoop, you are given the cold shoulder. If you are the only one who doesn't write it, then you are condemned by your company. MARK PHILLIPS: To safeguard against accidental initiative, members of a Kisha Club, reporters from different papers, share notes in a practice call memo-matching. It often results in newspapers printing identical stories. One night I saw three evening papers lead with an identical headline. In fact, two out of three even had the same sub-headline. The fear of being last, or first, ensures that the press club reporters release information in lockstep. So, Uesugi sneaks into the Liberal Democratic Party’s Kisha Club, as well as the Prime Minister’s, posing as a secretary. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: When they find me, they throw me out. One time, for example, the manager of the Kisha Club approached me and said, why are you here? Who gave you permission? I told him, oh, I got lost and I just found myself in here. And they said, don't give us that crap, get the hell out. If we see you next time, we'll report you to the police for trespassing. Well, I still sneak in there anyway. There are a number of ways, but I cannot get into that. MARK PHILLIPS: It sounded fun, so I snuck into a private Kisha Club myself. [CHIME SOUNDING] I promised my guide not to say which one, but, like all such clubs, it was located inside the agency the reporters were supposed to be covering, with separate sections for print and broadcast. It’s reminiscent of a summer camp or a college dorm, with bunk beds that double as desks, run-down furniture with cigarette burns and baseball trophies on top of file cabinets. In one corner there are four TV screens always on. Outside the curtain, there’s a common area with vending machines and beaten-up coffee tables. With morning and evening editions to write for, many reporters spend days on end inside the club. And the agency’s P.R. room is just a few doors down, which, critics argue, creates a too-cozy environment. [JAPANESE] YATA SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: It is almost equivalent to a bunch of male geisha. MARK PHILLIPS: Yata Suzuki was a Kisha Club member when he was a newspaper reporter. Now he writes for the weekly magazines. [JAPANESE] YATA SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: The best-behaved reporters at the Kisha Club are the first to get information. All they can do is hang out with the authority, drinking sake and having fun, trying to please them. MARK PHILLIPS: But the bond between reporter and official runs deeper than the booze, the cigarette breaks and the office space they share. Their whole careers are intertwined. Takashi Uesugi: [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: Strangely enough, if a reporter started out covering Mr. Aso when he was Foreign Minister, basically the same reporter follows Mr. Aso for the rest of his life. As your pet politician rises up the food chain, so does the reporter who follows him. MARK PHILLIPS: In this setup, reporters play the role of protector, not investigator. Again, Takashi Uesugi: [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: If the reporter gets some information about this politician’s rival scheming or something, he would warn him. You see? If your politician has a big downfall caused by a scandal, you have a downfall too, maybe getting assigned to some remote area. Then you can't write anything. MARK PHILLIPS: Kisha Club reporters also give their politicians a heads-up on what questions will be asked at the press conferences. Sometimes the answers are even typed up and given to reporters in advance, making the actual event - a mere formality. I got a taste of that at the Japanese Newspaper Association, which oversees and makes guidelines for the Kisha Clubs. I submitted questions in advance, and when I arrived, seven stern-looking men were waiting for me at a long table. With harsh lights and sweaty foreheads, it felt like an interrogation scene from the movies. One of the men reached across the table, handed me a printout of the answers and started reading them. [JAPANESE] INTERPRETER: The answer is, see page one, second paragraph. The answer I'm about to read is written here. This is a guideline. MARK PHILLIPS: Shinsuki Sano, managing editor at one of Japan’s largest newspapers and chairman of the Subcommittee on the Problems of the Kisha Clubs, is reading excerpts of the Association’s official guidelines, in response to my question, why do Kisha Clubs exist? [JAPANESE] INTERPRETER: Public institutions in Japan are rather reluctant to disclose information. The history of the Kisha Club is that it has functioned as a collective team to pressure them to disclose information to the journalist. The Kisha Club has been active for over a century, representing Japanese citizens who are entitled to obtain information. [JAPANESE] That’s the answer to the first question. MARK PHILLIPS: But what about freelance reporters’ complaints that journalists who aren't members of Kisha Clubs get shut out of press conferences? [JAPANESE] INTERPRETER: There are occasions where we are the one to host the press conference, and on many of those occasions we allow freelance journalists and magazine reporters, as long as they agree to follow our rules. MARK PHILLIPS: And can I ask you what some of those rules are? [LONG PAUSE] Shinsuki Sano paused for over a minute as the various representatives shuffled through their papers to find an official response to my ad lib question. [JAPANESE] SHINSUKI SANO VIA INTERPRETER: For example, they have to be magazine reporters or media reporters with longstanding careers. Other criteria - they have to have the common interest of fair reporting, to be able to cooperate with the management of the club and for them to comply with our high standards for media ethics. MARK PHILLIPS: Then Sano handed me the Canon of Journalism Ethics and stipulated that freelancers must prove their allegiance to its principles through their actions, an abstract requirement that effectively shuts out freelance and magazine writers. But Sano says there’s nothing stopping those reporters from approaching officials directly. [JAPANESE] SHINSUKI SANO VIA INTERPRETER: If you need to speak privately to a certain individual, it would be through that individual’s secretary or office, I suppose. The Kisha Club would have nothing to do with it. [SHINSUKI SANO CONTINUES IN JAPANESE] MARK PHILLIPS: That’s exactly what Takashi Uesugi tried to do in 1999 when then-Prime Minister Obuchi actually said yes to his interview request. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: While the office of Mr. Obuchi okayed the interview, the office had to submit the Prime Minister’s daily schedule to the Cabinet Kisha Club. According to the Kisha Club, it would be a violation of the rules for me to do a one-on-one interview with Prime Minister Obuchi. I said, Prime Minister Obuchi granted me the interview himself. Why shouldn't I be able to interview him? The Kisha Club replied - rules are rules. If you want an interview, you need to belong to our organization, and only then can you reapply for a one-on-one interview. And while this was all going on, Mr. Obuchi had a stroke, got hospitalized and passed away. And that was that. MARK PHILLIPS: Little has changed since. Outsiders can't get in, and insiders can't get the word out because of the club rules, including blackboard agreements, lists of stories they can't write. Shinsuki Sano at the Newspaper Association: [JAPANESE] SHINSUKI SANO VIA INTERPRETER: We don't actually have a blackboard agreement. We don't have a blackboard. How it works is that, for example, if there is a kidnapping case, in order not to interfere with the ongoing investigation, we discuss and make an agreement on keeping some information. Otherwise, as a rule, we try not to have agreements, as much as possible. TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: Here is today’s blackboard agreement. Let me show it to you. MARK PHILLIPS: Author and freelancer Takashi Uesugi says there are blackboard agreements handed out every day at various Kisha Clubs, and he opened up his laptop to show me a leaked copy of that day’s blackboard list from the Prime Minister’s Club. Among various items not to be written was a bona fide blockbuster. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: This was handed to me by a private secretary of Prime Minister Aso. Japan considers lending 100 billion dollars to financial market. This is considered a scoop. However, if you went off by yourself and wrote this, you and your news organization will be banned. MARK PHILLIPS: And so, the bailout scoop went unpublished for a couple of days, until the time when the blackboard agreement stipulated it could be published. Yet scoops and scandals still break in the media here. How they do it is another great paradox of Japanese journalism. Kisha Club reporters leak the stories they can't print to rival reporters at the weekly magazines. Writer Yato Suzuki is a frequent recipient. [JAPANESE] YATO SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: In that context, the weekly magazines and the press club have a codependent relationship. If the stories become public knowledge by being printed in the magazines, they can then write about them in the papers. MARK PHILLIPS: Sometimes the Kisha Club reporters will even write the stories themselves for the weeklies. Of course, they use a pen name so as not to get fired, and because most of the weeklies are – well – I went to a newsstand with former Tokyo crime reporter Jake Adelstein. [STREET SOUNDS] MARK PHILLIPS: What are the headlines? JAKE ADELSTEIN: Some of these headlines are so offensive I can't even translate them for you. [LAUGHTER] MARK PHILLIPS: What? JAKE ADELSTEIN: They're talking about somebody’s mango-shaped breast. MARK PHILLIPS: Adelstein’s assistant had to jump in to clarify. FEMALE ASSISTANT: Girl is 15 years younger than he is, with a breast that has a – is so big, it’s like mango. [LAUGHTER] JAKE ADELSTEIN: Well-stated. I didn't even know how to begin translating that one. MARK PHILLIPS: That’s the main story? JAKE ADELSTEIN: Yes, yes, the Mango-Shaped Breasts are the top story. MARK PHILLIPS: These magazines thrive on celebrity gossip and sex. Most of their covers feature very young women wearing very little, and many have actual pornography inside. It’d be like mixing the sleaziest elements of The National Enquirer and Hustler with the cultural and political analysis of The New Yorker and The Atlantic, like this article, which was next to the piece on the mango-shaped breast. JAKE ADELSTEIN: This is a good one. This is how the Prime Minister Aso’s family business has been covering up defects in the high-speed roadways that they've been building. This is how they've been covering it up. And they've got internal documents. They've got photos. This is like the stuff you would hope that Japanese newspapers would do, but probably won't. MARK PHILLIPS: But magazine writer Yato Suzuki says the boring newspapers seem more credible, even when they aren't. [JAPANESE] YATO SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: There are many who suspect the accuracy of what the weekly magazines write. Even though in actuality the weekly magazines may have higher accuracy, there are many scandals where, although they are accurate, they end up being killed by the newspapers. MARK PHILLIPS: How do they kill them? [JAPANESE] YATO SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: By deliberately ignoring them. MARK PHILLIPS: Meanwhile, the public is mostly unaware of the power of the Kisha Club. Again, Yato Suzuki. [JAPANESE] YATO SUZUKI VIA INTERPRETER: I think that 90 percent of the average citizens don't know. However, 100 percent of the people in the media do know. MARK PHILLIPS: And since even magazine writers and freelancers depend on club members for juicy leaks, few openly protest the club system. [JAPANESE] KEN TAKEUCHI VIA INTERPRETER: Ever since my start, I had serious doubts about the Kisha Club. MARK PHILLIPS: Ken Takeuchi started as a political reporter in the late '60s at the Asahi newspaper. In the '90s, he ran for mayor of Kamakura City, and won. In 1996, he took the controversial step of opening up the Kisha Clubs in his jurisdiction to freelance writers and foreign correspondents. [JAPANESE] KEN TAKEUCHI VIA INTERPRETER: Obviously, as Mayor, it would probably be advantageous for me to maintain a cozy relationship with the press. But, for the sake of Japanese media itself and the Japanese citizens, I thought, let the freelancers in, let the foreign correspondents in. MARK PHILLIPS: Another governor followed suit by abolishing Kisha Clubs altogether throughout this entire region. The Japanese Newspaper Association continued the trend by changing their guidelines. But since the rules for each club are set by its members, the guidelines are easily brushed aside. Former Mayor Ken Takeuchi. [JAPANESE] KEN TAKEUCHI VIA INTERPRETER: You can see a couple of points of improvement, however, since the amended guidelines. For example, clubs started paying their own telephone and fax bills. Also, in the old days, government employees worked in the press clubs running various errands for reporters. Most of them are not doing that, after being told to stop. MARK PHILLIPS: After politics, Takeuchi has gone on to start a news website called Janjan, and he’s hoping it can play a similar role as the weekly by providing a place for unreported stories to get their first airing. Although it isn't his proudest scoop, Janjan was the first place to write about Prime Minister Aso’s apparent inability to read Kanji, the Chinese characters used in Japanese. By all accounts, Kanji is difficult, but it’s still an expected skill set for the Prime Minister. [LAUGHTER] [JAPANESE] KEN TAKEUCHI VIA INTERPRETER: We at Janjan were the first people to write about it. All the political reporters who are following the Cabinet positions and are in charge of Prime Minister Aso would know that he is making a mistake in reading Kanji, but they would not write about it, considering the relationship they have with him and the Liberal Democratic Party. [JAPANESE] After it appeared on Janjan, they did start writing about it. Takashi Uesugi sees a similar trend now that video of legislative sessions is available on the Internet. Bloggers are beginning to scrutinize and discuss bills that previously went unmentioned. [JAPANESE] TAKASHI UESUGI VIA INTERPRETER: It is only the beginning, but the conventional political reporter’s ways, where they would cover up for their politicians, are now falling apart, albeit little by little. MARK PHILLIPS: “Little” being the operative word. In fact, the ruling Liberal Democratic Party has been passing privacy laws that actually make it more difficult to report on scandals. And the current leader of the opposition is no champion of the free press, either. Strangely, the best hope for either opening or abolishing the Kisha Clubs altogether may be the very thing we fear might ruin journalism in the U.S. – a dying newspaper industry. Japan’s colossal circulation figures have dropped in recent years, and a revenue crisis here could weaken the power of the Kisha Clubs. That may be the biggest paradox - that the decline of newspapers could lead to a blossoming of real journalism. And Japanese newspapers might just find that printing a scoop once in a while is actually a great way to sell papers. In Tokyo for OTM, I'm Mark Phillips. [MUSIC & JAPANESE AIRLINES FLIGHT ANNOUNCEMENT/MUSIC UP AND UNDER]

BOB GARFIELD: That's it for this week's show. On the Media was produced by Jamie York, Mike Vuolo, Mark Phillips, Nazanin Rafsanjani, Michael Bernstein and P.J. Vogt, with more help from James Hawver, Dan Mauzy and Julia Simon, and edited by our senior producer, Katya Rogers. We had technical direction from Jennifer Munson and more engineering help from Zach Marsh.

John Keefe is our executive producer. Bassist/composer Ben Allison wrote our theme. You can listen to the program and find transcripts at onthemedia.org. You can also post comments there, or email us at onthemedia@wnyc.org. This is On the Media from WNYC. Brooke Gladstone will be back next week. I’m Bob Garfield.