Recently, I came across an article in the Asahi Shimbun titled, “Original letter from warlord Hideyoshi Toyotomi found in Kyoto” by the staff writer Yukiko Kitamura. I immediately took issue with the characterization of Hideyoshi Toyotomi. He was the most powerful person in Japan during the Azuchi-Momoyama period (1574-1600) and held the title Taiko, or prime minister, of Japan. He was bestowed the title Taiko by the emperor when he unified Japan. He was not given the title shogun because of his family lineage. That is why the Battle of Sekigahara occurred on October 21, 1600. If the emperor had bestowed Hideyoshi Toyotomi, the title shogun, his family would have been in full control of Japan for years to come, as was the Tokugawa bakufu. One of the more significant disagreements I had related to Japanese history, specifically samurai and Hideyoshi Toyotomi, was when I was on a scouting trip at Tsuruga-jo (Aizu castle) in Fukushima prefecture. While I was there, I picked up some of the English print pamphlets while walking the castle grounds. I sat down to enjoy some tea and read the pamphlets as a diversion. My eyes were immediately drawn to the following words written in the pamphlet, “Hideyoshi Toyotomi - the shogun,” a mistake so egregious I had to correct it immediately. Just as I finished reading about Hideyoshi Toyotomi in their pamphlet, one of their tour guides strolled by with a client, and I politely asked her a few simple questions, “Is this pamphlet from your office?” I then followed with, “It says here that Hideyoshi Toyotomi was shogun. Is that correct?” Her reply was, “Yes, that’s right. Hideyoshi Toyotomi was shogun.” I launched into a 5-minute corrective measure to her on Japanese history, explaining the points that I made above. The gentleman who she was guiding on a private, historical tour of Aizu castle confirmed, “Yes, he’s right. There was never a Hideyoshi Toyotomi shogunate,” and he then made a quick and polite excuse to end his tour with that particular guide, but this was only the beginning. To the average reader, this may seem harsh, but Japanese people pride themselves on factual accuracy, but seemingly only for themselves at times. Losing face is a concept that has crossed the cultural divide, and if a samurai lost face, then it meant death by his own katana. However, it seems that for international visitors, non-Japanese, that the ‘facts’ are presented in a much more cavalier manner. With all this in mind, I visited the main administrative office of Tsuruga-jo and made my case for the factual error in the English pamphlet. The conversation started with me talking to a clerk, then quickly, the head administrator came to continue the conversation. We exchanged business cards, as is the custom in Japan, and I began, “Excuse me, is this some kind of a joke, kind sir? Japan had three shogunates which are: the Kamakura, Ashikaga, and Tokugawa bakufus, but according to your pamphlet,” I said incredulously, “there was a fourth bakufu/shogun, the Toyotomi? I must have missed that day of lecture at Tokyo University.” By this time, the conversation had attracted several other staff members, but the head administrator summarily excused everyone else in attendance and told them to return to their desks. Everyone in the office beside me was red-faced with shame. The administrator told me in Japanese that he would remove the pamphlet from circulation immediately. I reflected for a moment and wondered how long this historical inaccuracy had been in print, so I asked how many years that mistaken pamphlet had been available for tourists, to which he replied, “Two years.” You could have bowled me over with a feather. He added that the pamphlet had been translated by a person in Tokyo, and they accepted it as correct. Small English errors such as ‘tee’ for ‘tea’ don’t bother me, but this is an enormous factual error that people who had read the pamphlet would internalize and take home with them. I’ve heard horror stories from clients, friends, and colleagues about getting incorrect information when I wasn’t present. Japan is a country full of superstition. People hate admitting that they don’t have the answers, so to save face, the tour guides give shallow, oversimplified answers to questions, such as reducing Japan’s mystical, mythological, and sociological history to good karma and bad karma. Your average tour guide is just that, average, so you get average and often below average answers to your questions. These guides don’t have backgrounds in history, and they know about 2,000 kanji. This is part of why I started digging and studying ancient Japanese folklore and history and befriended several academics from Tokyo University and Waseda University. They were of great help and guided me along my way to start understanding authentic Japanese symbology, mythology, sociology, and authentic folklore, among other topics.