Winter settles in, the days grow short, and administrative burdens seem to grow just as steadily. As tax season approaches and the government pushes yet another procedure onto our plates, I find myself reflecting on the curious balance between citizenship, obligation, and convenience.
I was out for work today.
By the time I returned home, it was already pitch-dark—
and cold.
The winter chill is becoming unmistakable.
Speaking of feeling things “deeply,” the weight of taxes is another seasonal sensation.
No matter how much I work, a sizable portion goes straight to taxes, and it wears me down.
Yet when asked to contribute, it isn’t as though I can refuse.
I know taxes are necessary to keep the country functioning, but am I truly receiving enough in return?
At the very least, I want to keep an eye on how that money is being used—
even if my information comes only from newspapers and television.
Still, it seems important to stay aware.
And then there is everything the government—our venerable okami—requires of us.
The My Number card is one example, and now the My Number health insurance card has become nearly mandatory.
My wife happened to notice that my renewal deadline was this year’s birthday.
Even that simple procedure feels burdensome.
Why must I handle all these tasks myself?
Since I pay my taxes, part of me wants the system to take care of such things automatically.
But in reality, there are limits; certain steps inevitably require one’s own effort.
Even so, Japan may run as smoothly as it does precisely because people like me quietly comply.
Put differently, we may simply be a flock of sheep.
