Perhaps we fail to appreciate the dilemmas posed by military defeat - between observing national dignity and recognising that victory belonged to another.

Mary Dejevsky from Tokyo

Is it politically incorrect to delight in Japan?  That may seem a strange question, but each time I have been to Tokyo the contradiction seems to loom that much larger between what you experience and see before you - the politeness, the spare elegance, the ingenuity- and what you know about the not so distant past. Tokyo itself may stretch as far as the eye can see - even from a central restaurant on the umpteenth floor you see no end to the cityscape as you might even in fast-expanding London - and there are pedestrian office-blocks aplenty, many of which are ageing badly.

But from the inside, there is invariably evidence of aesthetic consideration: windows shaped and positioned in such a way as to maximise the light and the paucity of trees; the way space is broken up; the feng shui of reception furniture. Even seen from the outside, there are few structures that actually offend the eye – a pleasant surprise for Europeans who have lived among the monstrosities that should never have passed their first planning application in London. There are often havens of calm to be found, even in busy streets; small vestiges of old Japan. On the day after a surprise snow shower, those parts of the imperial gardens that were open to visitors were bathed in sunshine, inviting visitors to indulge in that very Japanese juxtapositional marriage of traditional and modern that is photographing each other among the first cherry trees to bloom.

Then I remember the friend of my late father who would not, could not, stand in the vicinity of any Japanese anywhere; who would not visit Japan, who would not buy a Japanese car or television, after his experience as a young British prisoner-of-war. The trends at national and personal level in recent years have all been towards reconciliation - one of Barack Obama’s last presidential visits was to Hiroshima; Prime Minister Shinzo Abe repaid the compliment by going to Pearl Harbor. But this is not the whole story.

I remember the controversy surrounding Abe’s 2013 visit to the Yasukuni shrine to Japan’s war dead, and then there is the perennial tension with China over history textbooks. If you visit the museum attached to this national, you follow an uneasy path, tiptoeing between military glory and glimpses of loss. Yet perhaps we British fail to appreciate the dilemmas posed by national military defeat. Though diversified in recent years, the Imperial War Museum is in its very conception a monument to victory. Imagine what would be displayed in such a museum if the two world wars had not been won - the delicate balance that would have to be drawn between observing national dignity and recognising that victory was someone else’s to celebrate.

Some of the those very same contradictions recur regularly in Martin Scorsese’s latest film, ‘Silence’, based on Shusaku Endo’s 1966 historical novel about Portuguese missionaries and the persecution of Christians in 17th-century Japan. One theme is the gulf between faith and its loss; another is the contrast between the doctrinal rigidity of the newcomers and the apparent - though only apparent - flexibility of the natives. Yet another is the pervasive calm and aesthetic beauty that coexists with the infliction of extreme cruelty and execution. I often wonder, as I move around this eclectic contradiction of a city, do Japanese discern the same conflict, or regard the two as aspects of the whole?

Health and social care                       
South Korea is now forecast to become the country with the longest life-expectancy, with women living on average to over 90 and men to 84 by 2030. But the accolade has long rested with Japan, where the unusual preponderance - to the European eye - of fit elderly people in the population is apparent the moment you mix it in the bustling shopping streets of Tokyo. But what about those who are less fit and much older? We may worry about the present and future burden placed on the NHS by the ageing population, but the difficulties for Japan are already more acute. So how do they fund their social care, or is filial piety still the rule?

The answer to filial piety is that it is in sharp decline. One reason is that the children of those now slipping into disablement and dementia may be in their late 70s, and ageing themselves. Another was graphically described in a harrowing series of recent press articles about murder and suicide among elderly carers for whom the pressure grew too much. Reluctance to ask younger relatives for financial, or other, help may be a consideration, too, but family - as here - may be increasingly far away.  

The answer to the funding question is precise, in a Japanese way, but complicated. Almost 20 years ago the government introduced a new contributory insurance payment to cover long-term care for the over-75s, in addition to the mixed insurance system already in place for the medical needs of the general population - health care, incidentally, being free at the point of use, but subject to means-tested, if quite modest, co-payments.

The new scheme, it is now recognised, will not be enough. So what sort of bargain can be struck? Are younger, working people to be asked to pay more, even though that will curb the consumer spending that the Japanese economy badly needs? Does the state claw back from companies, although they resist? Or are the elderly going to be asked to pay more - from pensions that for the oldest are still very small and savings that pay next to no interest? Discussions are afoot - at a rather leisurely pace, or so it seems - among health specialists, economists and government about how future costs might be, if not cut, then controlled.

Among changes mooted are a version of the UK’s GP system. At present Japanese refer themselves direct to a specialist clinic or hospital - as happens, say, in Germany. But economists see the attractions of a gate-keeper, and additional changes will be necessary Another British innovation being studied in Japan is NICE - the National Institute for Clinical Excellence - which decides what medicines and procedures the NHS will pay for, on the basis of cost and efficacy. Understandably, Japan’s pharmaceutical interests have their own view. But it is instructive to see the UK as others see it, as offering examples to follow. That said, those Japanese with experience of the NHS find it hard to fathom the British adulation of what they see as a clunky, poorly organised period-piece in need of modernisation. Salutary indeed to see yourself as others see you.

Self-service, but not quite.
I have learned enough about Japan to know that it is deceptive. Restaurants and shopping look manageable and familiar - until suddenly they are not. The last time I was in Tokyo, I discovered that Muji in Japan is a quite different proposition - enormous, for a start - from the niche boutique versions implanted here. This time I discovered that they have cafes in their big stores, too, and briefed myself in advance (thanks, tripadvisor.com) how they work, so as not to transgress too badly. Crucial to know is that you are handed a big plastic number by the greeter, which you use to reserve a table place before joining the (short) queue at the counter for food. But there was an important detail missing from the helpful hints. Everyone else seemed to be carrying a tray, but I couldn’t find one. I finally went back to the greeter, pointed to someone with a tray and looked pathetic. It turned out that the counter staff put your food on the tray, which you are handed with due ceremony at the till. Nothing wrong with that, just worth knowing - like standing on the left, repeat the left, on escalators.

Mary Dejevsky has been a correspondent in Moscow, Paris and Washington D.C.