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Bibliographic Data: Farris, WIlliam Wayne. Population, Disease, and Land in Early Japan, 645-900. Cambridge, MA: Harvard-Yencheng Institute, 1985.
Main Argument: Farris applies (then) modern demographic techniques to surviving records from classical Japan to argue against some now hopelessly out of date ideas about the ritsuryô period, i.e. when the Yamato state borrowed structures from Tang China and instituted a number of centralizing reforms, as well as the ideal of government, and provincial division, that existed at least until the 20thC. Applying statistical methodology to surviving demographic data (which are relatively plentiful, if objectively not unproblematic) and linking population, land and disease as interdependent explanatory factors sheds a powerful new light on the events of early Japanese history and shows that there was not sustained population growth in the classical era.
Historiographical Engagement: William McNeill, Plagues and Peoples; various Japanese and Western historians
Introduction: Argument, Sources, Examples Farris' central contention is that a) the introduction of rice farming allowed the economy to grow to such an extent that social classes, and eventually primitive forms of political organization, appeared in Japan at the end of the yayoi period, and that by the beginning of the ritsuryô period in 645 CE, Japan's population was somewhere between 3 and 5.5 million people; b) that Emperors Tenmu and Jito were the primary architects of the ritsuryô state, introducing a number of policies that were brought to fruition by Jitô during her sole reign (Japan's first systematic law codes, population registration, tax collection, state land allocation, and the construction of Japan's first Chinese-style capital, Fujiwara), for which she was the first sovereign to be hailed as tennô in her lifetime; c) the adumbration of the Taihô codes, which subordinated the imperial house to the council of state and returned broad powers of administration to provincial governors, had as their aim the control of commoners.
( Smallpox strikes again )
Critical assessment: Despite a rather workmanlike title, Population, Disease, and Land in Early Japan, 645-900 presents an unabashedly revisionist picture of the ritsuryô state that not only still holds water but is, in many of its details, still fresh and relevant. To be blunt, the nuanced portrait of the fortunes and policy of the Yamato polity that Farris offers is by no means patent among scholars on either side of the Pacific.
I would contest the characterization of Farris' prose as "lifeless;" the text genuinely held my interest throughout, which is no mean achievement for a study so closely tied to a very small set of data that have been lovingly massaged with statistical techniques. If anything, I found the initial framing of his study somewhat mushy, but by the middle of the book I not only could grasp where he was growing, but agreed with his presentation of his evidence and his conclusions therefrom.
In comparison with John Whitney Hall, Farris has the benefit of an additional twenty years' worth of intensive scholarship under his belt, particularly in the area of mokkan, the wooden proclamations which the ritsuryô state so loved to issue. (Aside: are mokkan classified as a form of epigraphy?) Unlike some other ancient historians, however, Farris does not make the mistake of privileging any one form of evidence over the others; instead, he uses his data to build a larger story, a story that is ultimately about the rise and fall of the ritsuryô state.
I could wish that this ur-narrative were more explicitly brought out in the text, and I take the point that there is more than a whiff of determinism about the way Farris frames his narrative, a whiff that does sharpen the enigma of the mid- to late Heian period: what was it that allowed the country to escape the demographic trap that Farris illuminates, if not explains? The answer is beyond Farris' scope, but it does leave one wondering. One also wonders whether, if he were writing this book now, Farris would be so quick to take William McNeill as a guide, given that McNeill's conclusions (though not his overall argument, namely that diseases affect human history) have been criticized since the publication of his book. Still, the McNeillian analysis of the transformative role that smallpox played in the eighth century (even to the point of, arguably, contributing to the informal disbarment of women from the throne and the transfer of the capital from Nara!) is one of the strongest parts of the book, and an object lesson in the power that this sort of demographic-centered historiography can have.
Further reading: Farris, Japan's Medieval Population: Famine, Fertility, and Warfare in a Transformative Age
Meta notes: Empress Jitô was awesome, and you should laugh in the face of the sexist haters who try to tell you otherwise. Cornelius J. Kiley, I'm looking at you.
Main Argument: Farris applies (then) modern demographic techniques to surviving records from classical Japan to argue against some now hopelessly out of date ideas about the ritsuryô period, i.e. when the Yamato state borrowed structures from Tang China and instituted a number of centralizing reforms, as well as the ideal of government, and provincial division, that existed at least until the 20thC. Applying statistical methodology to surviving demographic data (which are relatively plentiful, if objectively not unproblematic) and linking population, land and disease as interdependent explanatory factors sheds a powerful new light on the events of early Japanese history and shows that there was not sustained population growth in the classical era.
Historiographical Engagement: William McNeill, Plagues and Peoples; various Japanese and Western historians
Introduction: Argument, Sources, Examples Farris' central contention is that a) the introduction of rice farming allowed the economy to grow to such an extent that social classes, and eventually primitive forms of political organization, appeared in Japan at the end of the yayoi period, and that by the beginning of the ritsuryô period in 645 CE, Japan's population was somewhere between 3 and 5.5 million people; b) that Emperors Tenmu and Jito were the primary architects of the ritsuryô state, introducing a number of policies that were brought to fruition by Jitô during her sole reign (Japan's first systematic law codes, population registration, tax collection, state land allocation, and the construction of Japan's first Chinese-style capital, Fujiwara), for which she was the first sovereign to be hailed as tennô in her lifetime; c) the adumbration of the Taihô codes, which subordinated the imperial house to the council of state and returned broad powers of administration to provincial governors, had as their aim the control of commoners.
( Smallpox strikes again )
Critical assessment: Despite a rather workmanlike title, Population, Disease, and Land in Early Japan, 645-900 presents an unabashedly revisionist picture of the ritsuryô state that not only still holds water but is, in many of its details, still fresh and relevant. To be blunt, the nuanced portrait of the fortunes and policy of the Yamato polity that Farris offers is by no means patent among scholars on either side of the Pacific.
I would contest the characterization of Farris' prose as "lifeless;" the text genuinely held my interest throughout, which is no mean achievement for a study so closely tied to a very small set of data that have been lovingly massaged with statistical techniques. If anything, I found the initial framing of his study somewhat mushy, but by the middle of the book I not only could grasp where he was growing, but agreed with his presentation of his evidence and his conclusions therefrom.
In comparison with John Whitney Hall, Farris has the benefit of an additional twenty years' worth of intensive scholarship under his belt, particularly in the area of mokkan, the wooden proclamations which the ritsuryô state so loved to issue. (Aside: are mokkan classified as a form of epigraphy?) Unlike some other ancient historians, however, Farris does not make the mistake of privileging any one form of evidence over the others; instead, he uses his data to build a larger story, a story that is ultimately about the rise and fall of the ritsuryô state.
I could wish that this ur-narrative were more explicitly brought out in the text, and I take the point that there is more than a whiff of determinism about the way Farris frames his narrative, a whiff that does sharpen the enigma of the mid- to late Heian period: what was it that allowed the country to escape the demographic trap that Farris illuminates, if not explains? The answer is beyond Farris' scope, but it does leave one wondering. One also wonders whether, if he were writing this book now, Farris would be so quick to take William McNeill as a guide, given that McNeill's conclusions (though not his overall argument, namely that diseases affect human history) have been criticized since the publication of his book. Still, the McNeillian analysis of the transformative role that smallpox played in the eighth century (even to the point of, arguably, contributing to the informal disbarment of women from the throne and the transfer of the capital from Nara!) is one of the strongest parts of the book, and an object lesson in the power that this sort of demographic-centered historiography can have.
Further reading: Farris, Japan's Medieval Population: Famine, Fertility, and Warfare in a Transformative Age
Meta notes: Empress Jitô was awesome, and you should laugh in the face of the sexist haters who try to tell you otherwise. Cornelius J. Kiley, I'm looking at you.