More than just the regional promotion in Japan: The case of Chita Musume

Abstract

This article investigates a Japanese transmedia regional promotion project known as Chita Musume Jikkō Iinkai (or the Executive Committee of Daughters of Chita); it critically discusses how the elusive concept of moe was deployed to facilitate and promote regional tourism. Drawing on the male gaze as a theoretical framework, this study uses Rose's discourse analysis I to investigate a wide variety of texts and documents related to the project. In doing so, it demonstrates that this regional promotion practice does not merely contribute to reinforcing its audience as heteronormative masculine subjects, but also redesigns its region as a gazed-upon dating spot.

Despite being an elusive concept, moe (萌え) has been a key word for understanding otaku culture (e.g. Galbraith, 2019). Moe is originally a noun form of the Japanese intransitive verb 萌える “moeru” meaning to sprout. Since the 1990s, however, it has been extensively used as Japanese slang to indicate affection for anime characters in otaku culture. While the contemporary use of the term has gained increased traction in Japanese society, moe has been deployed by a wide variety of agents in Japan and has expanded beyond a focus on manga, anime, and games to include cultural, social, and political functions (e.g. Abe, 2014; Galbraith, 2014). While many scholars and cultural critics have studied the notion of moe and discussed its socio-economic impact in Japan and elsewhere (e.g. Hotta, 2005), the deployment of moe has often caused much controversy when it is linked to regional tourism promotion (e.g. Sankei Shimbun, 2015).

This article takes these observations as an entry point to investigate a specific Japanese regional promotion practice involving the deployment of moe: Moe-okoshi. The notion is a term combining two words: “moe” and “okoshi.” “Okoshi” is a noun from the transitive verb 起こす “okosu,” meaning to raise, wake up, and cause. When the term “chi’iki” (region) is added before the word okoshi (chi’iki-okoshi), okoshi can be used to mean “regional promotion.” Accordingly, the combined term “moe-okoshi” can be defined as “a regional promotion through the uses of moe” (Ideguchi, 2009: 58).

While a growing body of scholarship has focused on moe practices (e.g. Abe, 2014, 2017; Azuma, 2009; Galbraith, 2014, 2019), scholars and critics have not paid sufficient attention to the relationship between moe-centered practice and regional promotion with some exceptions (Ideguchi, 2009; Igarashi, 2012; Takeuchi and Chong, 2017). This is remarkable given that many researchers have examined the relationship between popular culture and regional promotion in general, and “contents tourism” in particular (e.g. Graburn and Yamamura, 2020; Okamoto, 2015; Seaton et al., 2017). “Contents tourism” is a Japanese-English term that was officially used by the Japanese state, which noted in 2005 that the goal of contents tourism is “to give the region a ‘narrative’ and ‘theme’ as ‘an atmosphere and image unique to the region fostered through content’ and to utilize that narrative as a tourism resource” (Kokudo Kōtsūshō Sōgō Seisaku Kyoku Kankō Chiiki Shinkōka et al., 2005: 49). Put differently, contents tourism uses characters and narratives of popular culture for tourism promotion. Since then, various sectors of Japan have used characters and narratives of popular culture such as Kumamon as an official mascot of Kumamoto Prefecture to strengthen regional promotion (e.g. Kumamoto Kenchō Chīmu Kumamon, 2013). In contrast with contents tourism, moe-okoshi is more specific: both are concerned with regional promotion—especially with its resonances among tourists through uses of popular culture. Moe-okoshi is differentiated from contents tourism in that the latter is based on media contents, characters, and narratives of popular culture forms such as anime, comics, and games (ACG) in general, while the former is centered on the concept of moe. In other words, moe-okoshi is founded on a character involving moe-elements (moe character); moe-okoshi can be thus understood as a specific case of the blanket term “contents tourism” for regional promotion.

The question, then, is how to reconceptualize moe-okoshi in terms of regional promotion. Among the limited number of prior works on moe-okoshi practices, Ideguchi (2009) classified multiple moe-okoshi practices into two models: media-driven and region-led. A media-driven moe-okoshi practice can be described as a way in which the media industry strategically uses a moe character for regional promotion. Ideguchi (2009) referred to Binchō-tan (a moe character representing the high-quality white charcoal that is produced in Minabe Town, Hidaka District, Wakayama Prefecture) as a specific example of the media-driven practice. A region-led moe-okoshi practice is a way in which residents take the initiative in creating a moe character for regional promotion. Shimon-chan is a moe character of the giant purple butterfly in Shimotsuma City, Ibaraki Prefecture that exemplified the region-led moe-okoshi practice. Ideguchi (2009) illustrated both the opportunities and the challenges that the two models face in terms of the effectiveness of their regional promotion. Ideguchi's models provide a starting point of reference with which other explorations of moe-okoshi practice must engage. Still, there has been very little research on moe-okoshi practice by advancing critical theory related to moe as an essential resource for regional promotion.

To explore a moe-okoshi practice from a critical perspective, this article investigates the case of Chita Musume Jikkō Iinkai or the Executive Committee of Daughters of Chita (hereafter, CMJI). Founded in 2010 in Aichi Prefecture, the CMJI tactically engaged in the anthropomorphization of the Chita Peninsula through the deployment of moe in a performative way. More specifically, it created a fictional group of young female characters named Chita Musume (Daughters of Chita) to represent the five cities and five towns in the peninsula: each character was described as having come from the area from which she was anthropomorphized (Kobata, 2011). Accordingly, the CMJI used various media including YouTube to make the peninsula more visible and attractive through the anthropomorphization of each region.

Among the many other moe-okoshi projects, the CMJI has a major advantage for this study because it is one of the longest-established moe-okoshi practices in Japan. While moe-okoshi is likely unsustainable because it will create only a “short-term upsurge of the public interest” (Ideguchi, 2009: 67), the CMJI has been actively engaging in the region-led moe-okoshi practice and celebrated the tenth anniversary of Chita Musume in 2019. No doubt, the results of this research may not be generalizable with respect to moe-okoshi. Rather than positing the putative unity of the Japanese moe-okoshi practice, this research focuses on a specific project to shed light on one case of sustainable moe-okoshi practice.

This article starts by reviewing some seminal contributions to understanding the notion of moe as a fundamental concept for the moe-okoshi practice. The following section further discusses Mulvey's concept of the male gaze as a way to explore the elusive concept of moe in relation to regional promotion and refers to suitable research methods. The third section investigates how the CMJI engaged in a regional promotion practice through the use of moe characters from 2009 to 2019; in doing so, the section explores the production site of the moe-okoshi practice in a historical context and thus provides a historical backdrop for analysis of the CMJI's representation of the Chita Peninsula through the performative deployment of the concept of moe. The fourth section examines how the CMJI actually created a YouTube video series for regional promotion. Finally, this research summarizes key findings and discusses future directions that scholars of cultural studies and popular culture might take.

Theoretical frameworks and method

While many scholars and critics have discussed the concept of moe in contemporary Japanese society, Azuma's (2009) analysis was one of the early theoretical formulations of moe. Azuma explored and discussed the concept of moe in relation to otaku culture. He originally referred to moe as “the fictional desire for characters of comics, anime, and games or for pop idols” (Azuma, 2009: 47–8), and maintained that the concept of moe reflects postmodern characteristics in which otaku people consume (and reproduce) fragmentary moe-elements to pursue instant satisfaction. In doing so, Azuma (2009) proposed the concept of “database consumption,” in which characters are “immediately broken into moe-elements and recorded by consumers. The elements later reemerged as materials for creating new characters” (2009: 52). Put differently, the moe-elements of characters can be used as data for otaku people in their database consumption. Azuma (2009) thus elaborated on moe-elements—most of which are visual (such as a specific costume)—as the drivers of otaku's database consumption. Azuma then indicated that otaku must have the cultural competence to locate moe-elements within the character to ensure their instant satisfaction.

In extending Azuma's early theorization of moe, Galbraith (2019) foregrounded the notion of affect and referred to moe simply as “an affective response to fictional characters” (2019: 80), maintaining that moe should not be understood in terms of the stimulus-response model of communication because moe emerged from the interactions and relations between people and their objects. In doing so, Galbraith (2019) proposed the notion of “moe media,” that is, media that are “meant to trigger an affective response, which it does through characters” (2019: 108). Just as Galbraith pointed out, moe media necessarily possess what Azuma conceptualizes as moe-elements. As such, Galbraith elaborated on the concept of moe by shedding light upon its affective elements and conceptualized moe media.

Other scholars have studied the performative element of moe in fostering a certain kind of human solidarity (e.g. Condry, 2013; Saitō, 2011). For instance, Condry (2013) highlighted the notion of reciprocity as a fundamental factor constituting moe and indicated that moe plays a constitutive role in shaping communication resources for otaku people. While Galbraith conceptualized moe media as a resource for generating an affective response to characters, Condry emphasized that otaku people perform “moe” via self-aware manners, thus attributing subjectivity to themselves as moe consumers. In doing so, they create a community where their sense of moe is recognized and acknowledged as significant and meaningful.

Given the different perspectives of moe, it is useful to refer to the concept of taste to understand the role of moe in moe-okoshi further. Bourdieu (1986) famously claimed that the concept of taste not only reflects specific class interests but also serves as an important means of creating social identities. Likewise, the notion of moe apparently helps to reinforce and interpellate its audience as moe consumers by differentiating them from others unfamiliar with moe. As such, moe encourages both bonding and separation in the moe-okoshi practice: Moe provides a communication resource for its audiences to induce, express, and even share their affective feelings and desires regarding the character either individually or collectively. It also possibly serves as a boundary-making function, by alienating those who would not be moe consumers. Indeed, it is precisely where moe-okoshi and contents tourism (in general) diverge: moe-okoshi is likely to alienate those who would not accept the idea of moe as a communication resource. Accordingly, this article conceptualizes moe-okoshi as an attempt to implement regional promotion practices for potential moe consumers as its primary target audience.

Given the conceptualization of moe-okoshi, this article further refers to Mulvey's concept of the male gaze and considers the notion of moe-okoshi from a critical perspective. The male gaze is a well-known and oft-cited concept for critiquing a patriarchal visuality from a psychoanalytic perspective: Mulvey (1975) examined Hollywood films and famously pointed out the role of the male gaze in producing and reproducing a cinematic representation of women as visual objects for male spectators. The concept of the male gaze has been extensively discussed and critiqued across multiple fields of study (e.g. Columpar, 2002; Hambleton, 2020). For example, Columpar (2002) rightly pointed out that it is important to resist the temptation to reduce multiple and racialized gazes to a single male gaze, thus emphasizing the complex multiplicity of male gazes. Perhaps more relevant to this study, Allison (2000) examined Japanese children's cartoons as an object of her study and noted that “the imagery of naked female bodies is sexual but … it constructs male sexuality in such a way to maintain the male's primary role as workers” (2000: 48). In doing so, Allison (2000) concluded that, unlike what Mulvey assumes, situating a male subject as a voyeur does not necessarily empower him as a practitioner of scopophilia. Despite the critiques of the concept of male gaze, this study extends Allison's study and uses the notion of male gaze as a framework for shedding light upon moe-okoshi practice in contemporary Japanese society. In so doing, this study foregrounds the gendered and political elements of its attempt to implement regional promotion. The research questions of this article thus focus on how moe-okoshi functions to (1) reinforce its audiences as moe consumers and (2) to interpellate its region as looked-upon objects. Doing so would be a precondition for better understanding moe-okoshi from a critical perspective.

Among multiple discourse analysis methods, including critical discourse analysis (CDA) (e.g. Fairclough, 1995), this study draws on Rose's (2016) discourse analysis I to address the research questions. While CDA tends to pay critical attention to the linguistic elements of discourses (e.g. Machin and Mayr, 2012), it is difficult to investigate the functions of moe-okoshi by reducing it to the linguistic elements of its discourse. Although it is essential to consider the linguistic elements of moe-okoshi, this article uses Rose (2016)'s visual methodology and analyzes the moe-okoshi's multiple elements (e.g. visual, verbal, tone, and physical elements) to address the questions.

To analyze visual materials critically, Rose (2016) indicated that it is important to pay attention to four different sites: the sites of production, the image itself, circulation, and audiencing. In discourse analysis I, Rose (2016) focused on the first three sites as objects of research and highlighted the role of discourse in producing subjects to address the issue of Foucauldian notions of knowledge and power. This article starts by investigating “the institutional location of a discourse” (Rose, 2016: 214), and explores how a particular discourse of regional promotion was structured and how it then produced a specific kind of knowledge on its target audiences as subjects and regions as objects. In doing so, this study investigates various texts and documents including the CMJI's websites and social media, newspapers, books, etc. from 2009 to 2019. Drawing on Rose (2016)'s discourse analysis I, the next section describes and analyzes the trajectory of the CMJI simply because doing so helps to locate, and clarifies, the production site from which a particular discourse and knowledge of regional promotion was created.

Engendering the visibility of the Chita Peninsula

There were historical antecedents of moe-okoshi before the CMJI. Multiple critics have pointed out that the origins of the moe-okoshi practice can be traced back to at least 1997 when Yamato Town in Saga Prefecture used a fictional young female anime character named Mahoro-chan on its official website, thereby generating substantial media exposure in Japan (e.g. Masaru 1975, 2002; Sugimoto, 2014). While Mahoro-chan was not created for the sake of regional promotion per se, the Japanese mass media leaned toward a general romanticization of the female anime character as a resource for enhancing the visibility of the relatively unknown town and discussed Mahoro-chan in terms of regional promotion (e.g. Kai, 2011; Masaru, 1975, 2002; Sugimoto, 2014). Historically, Japanese mass media extensively used anime characters as low-cost media to promote a wide variety of goods and products such as chocolates after the end of World War II (e.g. Steinberg, 2012). Likewise, contemporary Japanese mass media viewed Mahoro-chan as a useful resource for boosting the economy in the name of regional promotion.

While Mahoro-chan as a moe character was gradually gaining attention in the Japanese media landscape, the CMJI began to emerge in the Chita Peninsula. Consisting of five cities and five towns, the Chita Peninsula is located in the southern part of Aichi Prefecture. The prefectural capital is Nagoya City—the fourth largest city in the country. The peninsula is accessible to Nagoya via the Nagoya Railroad (Meitetsu) and is also home to Chūbu International Airport. Given the convenient transportation infrastructure, the peninsula serves as a dormitory community for Nagoya and has seen a gradual increase in residents since the 1970s. Like many other parts of Japan, the Chita Peninsula has an aging population, but at a pace that is slower than the national average (Kamo, 2013). Despite these features of the peninsula, both domestic and foreign tourists to Aichi Prefecture tend to visit only the central areas of Nagoya City and not the Chita Peninsula itself (Aichiken Shinkōbu Kankōkyoku, n.d.; Dentsū, 2016). These geographical characteristics provided a space in which moe-centered regional promotion practice emerged.

The CMJI was originally launched by Endgoal—a nonprofit organization (NPO) in Handa City in the Chita Peninsula. In 2005, the NPO started its business by providing career consulting services for youth with ten employees (Canpan, 2016; Endgoal, n.d.; Chūnichi Shimbun, 2005). As Allison (2013) indicated, Japan had entered a “precarious” period of the economic downturn in the post-bubble era. This resulted in insecurity over jobs and a dramatic increase in the furītā (irregular workers) and NEET (Not in Education, Employment, or Training) lifestyles, especially among youth.

One way to improve the challenging conditions of the youth in local areas was to involve local people in the management of employment support. In 2006, the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare delegated career consulting services to 25 organizations to support young job seekers around the country (e.g. Nakamura and Hashimoto, 2016). The nationwide services were named Chiiki Wakamono Support Stations (Regional Stations for Supporting the Youth). In 2008, Endgoal was officially certified as a branch of the services by the ministry and became involved in the Chita Chiiki Wakamono Support Station in Hamada Town, Handa City. According to Tomoki Ōkubo, the founder of Endgoal, the support station initially struggled to gain attention from its target audience including Japanese youth on the peninsula (Asahi Shimbun, 2011; Ishii, 2009).

For Ōkubo, the use of anime characters was one solution because anime characters are a valuable resource for getting the attention of youth. In fact, Ōkubo (2005) published a book, Training Your Mind with Anime: Learning Life Philosophy from Anime and Manga, that highlighted the role of anime characters in youth development. In January 2009, the station launched a public relations (PR) campaign named Moero Shūkatsu (Get a Sense of Moe for Finding Employment) by utilizing a female moe anime character named Chita Miruku. Chita Miruku was so named because the Chita Peninsula is well known for its dairy enterprise, whose products include milk (miruku in Japanese) (Ishii, 2009). Ōkubo reportedly noted that he had chosen the moe character to get people “to look at it for 30 seconds and remember it” (Isono, 2012). As such, the moe character was created to attract the attention of job-seeking young people in the peninsula at that time.

The notion of the male gaze is based on the general assumption that it is generally male to gaze at women as visual and sexualized objects; thus, it is notable that Chita Miruku was designed by the female illustrator Koyori Sorahana. Indeed, many female illustrators are creating moe characters in contemporary Japanese society. Perhaps most notably, Aoi Nishimata is a well-known female illustrator of moe characters of We without Wings—a visual novel and erotic video game (Navel Ore Tsuba Shinkōkai, 2011). Kogedombo is another female illustrator of moe characters who reportedly maintained that, given that Japanese girls often portray princesses in their childhood, their continuous pursuit of the “cuteness” of princesses led to an increase in the number of female illustrators drawing moe characters (haruYasy, 2016). While this remark is based on her assumptions, the notion of male gaze may need to be reconsidered to understand moe characters as visual objects in contemporary Japanese society where female illustrators have apparently accumulated competence to locate moe-elements and portrayed moe characters as sexualized objects. As such, Chita Miruku was initially created to be a moe anime character that enhances the station's visibility among its imagined target audience.

Just like the case of Mahoro-chan, Chita Miruku (and Endgoal) gained widespread media exposure (e.g. Isono, 2012). According to Ōkubo, the moe character developed into a group of characters representing five cities and five towns on the Chita Peninsula and ultimately became involved in tourism events (Matsumi, 2012). Ultimately, the character-based PR campaign was developed into the CMJI, as led by the station in 2010. To increase the visibility of the Chita Peninsula area, Chita Miruku was redesigned as a Chita Musume character. While the CMJI started with 12 moe characters, the project developed into 16 moe characters including Mihama Ren (from Mihama Town) and Tokoname Sera (from Tokoname City).

Most Chita Musume characters were directly named after the towns and cities they represent; the characters introduce the towns and cities to audiences through their names. Moreover, each character was designed to have an individual profile derived from the deployment of moe-elements. Specifically, the profile information includes a variety of items about each character: (1) age; (2) height; (3) blood type; (4) birthday; (5) zodiac sign; (6) nickname; (7) origin of name; (8) profession; (9) favorite word; and/or (10) special qualifications. For instance, some of the information about Tokoname Sera reads as follows (Tokutei Hieiri Katsudō Hōjin Endgoal, n.d. a);

Age: 22

Height: 165 cm

Blood type: O

Birthday: 10 July

Profession: Airport official

Hobbies: Ceramic art, the Japanese art of flower arrangement, calligraphy, self-development including equity investment, and gambling

Not surprisingly, this individualized datum aligns with the characteristics of Tokoname City represented by Tokoname Sera. For instance, one of the character's listed hobbies is “ceramic art,” from which her first name, “Sera,” apparently comes. This is intended to help boost the visibility of Tokoname Ware (Tokonameyaki)—a type of Japanese pottery in the city. Her profession as an airport official is clearly linked to Chūbu International Airport's location in the city. Additionally, her birthday (10 July) is the day on which Tokoname City held a motorboat race for the first time on its speedboat racecourse (Tokutei Hieiri Katsudō Hōjin Endgoal, n.d. a). Her hobby of gambling relates to the fact that Tokoname City has a motorboat field. The CMJI thus designed each Chita Musume character to be a resource for introducing the characteristics of each town and city in the peninsula.

The CMJI has been actively involved with the local media and multiple levels of governments in Aichi Prefecture just as Ōkubo pointed out the importance of using the Chita Musume characters to strengthen regional partnerships (Asahi Shimbun, 2011). The Chūnichi Shimbun, a regional newspaper, highly appreciated the project and published many positive articles about it (e.g. Nakahashi, 2011). For example, the local newspaper favorably reported that Endgoal held auditions for female voice actors who would represent the moe characters of Chita Musume as part of the career consulting services in the peninsula. The NPO reportedly sought applications from female would-be voice actors and locals thus offering them an opportunity to gain the required skill set for becoming professional voice actors (Ishii, 2010). Local governments in the prefecture also participated. In 2012, for example, Handa City created an official YouTube video promoting tourism by using some Chita Musume characters (Yamamoto, 2012). In 2013, Agui Town used several Chita Musume characters to represent its public policy for supporting local youth (Yamano, 2013). Perhaps more notably, the Aichi prefectural government used Chita Musume characters on YouTube in 2011 to promote tourism throughout the prefecture (Aichiken, 2011). An official of the Aichi prefectural government reportedly noted that the characters were valid “to break away from the staid tourism PR video” in order to increase tourism (Miki, 2011). The YouTube video series helped the CMJI attract attention from various audiences (e.g. Chūnichi Shimbun, 2011).

Working with the local media and governments, the CMJI tactically engaged in transmedia practices in Aichi Prefecture and beyond. For example, the CMJI collaborated with local businesses and public transportation, allowing them to use the characters in various media forms including T-shirts, calendars, stationery, towels, compact discs (CDs), comics, LINE stamps, etc. (Chita Musume, n.d.). More notably, transmedia regional promotion practice was introduced to Taiwan. Many scholars have indicated that before the Chita Musume character emerged, Japanese manga and anime characters were already well-received in Taiwan, where many students learn the Japanese language in higher educational institutions (e.g. Kawada, 2012). While the CMJI harnessed a wide variety of social media outlets, including Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter only in Japanese, the Chūnichi Shimbun (2013) reported that many Taiwanese people accessed the project's Japanese-language Facebook page leading Endgoal along with four voice actors for the Chita Musume characters to attend the Taipei International Travel Fair (ITF) 2013. In 2014, the group revisited the fair and offered a street performance at Ximen, where many Taiwanese youth gather in Taipei, attracting approximately 300 people (Yamano, 2014). Endgoal later created an alternative group of moe characters named Taipei Musume or Daughters of Taipei. The NPO designated the Taipei Musume as the little sisters of Chita Musume and used them as moe characters to promote tourism in Taiwan. As such, the CMJI's moe-okoshi practice thus redefined the scale and scope of its transmedia regional promotion practice. In October 2017, the CMJI was transformed into the General Incorporated Association of Regional Revitalization Project by Chita Musume, which similarly engages with both career consulting and the moe-okoshi practice on the Chita Peninsula, thus continuing to develop its transmedia practice via female anime characters.

This section briefly illuminates the way in which the CMJI emerged and developed as it did. Theoretically, there would have been multiple ways to anthropomorphize the Chita Peninsula for regional promotion. Still, the CMJI, the Aichi government, and local media unanimously and uncritically embraced young female moe characters as a resource to increase the visibility of the peninsula for regional promotion. The CMJI's transmedia regional promotion ultimately spread to Taiwan, producing and reproducing a view of moe characters as a resource for tourism promotion. However, one wonders why moe characters were widely used as a resource for regional promotion in Aichi Prefecture and beyond. As Bourdieu (1986) indicated, this section suggests that the stakeholders of moe-okoshi apparently had a common taste for internalizing the male gaze: they did not sufficiently problematize the gendered aspect of regional promotion. Ultimately, their common taste contributes to creating social identities of those who prioritize the visibility of the peninsula over the ethics of attracting attention by capitalizing on moe characters. One then wonders what kind of subjectivity such moe-centered regional promotion attributes to its audiences. What does such moe-okoshi mean for each city and town in the Chita Peninsula?

To address these questions, the next section examines how the Aichi government and the CMJI represented the peninsula through the use of moe characters. Specifically, the section investigates the YouTube video series entitled “Deito de Chita Aruki” or “Romantic Walk on Chita [Peninsula]” and discusses the implications of their moe-okoshi practices.

Virtual dating on the Chita Peninsula

This section examines the way in which Chita Musume characters are utilized for regional promotion of the Chita Peninsula. It does this by investigating the aforementioned YouTube video series as a case of what Galbraith (2019) conceptualizes as moe media. Released in April 2011, the series consists of 12 YouTube videos that have gained substantial traction in the Japanese media landscape (e.g. Chūnichi Shimbun, 2011). In the video series, Chita Musume characters introduce towns and cities on the peninsula for audiences by allowing them to experience a virtual date with a Chita Musume character in the area that the character represents. These YouTube videos were thus designed to help audiences to imagine an alternative way of experiencing the place by promoting the development of the audience's desires and pleasures.

Focusing on the YouTube video series has several advantages for this study: first, the YouTube series was reportedly a key factor that increased the visibility of the CMJI and Endgoal in their early stage (e.g. Chūnichi Shimbun, 2011); second, the Aichi prefectural government officially created the YouTube series that uses the Chita Musume characters for tourism and regional promotion in the prefecture. The series is available in Japanese, English, and Chinese, thus enhancing its ability to reach specific target audiences. A critical analysis of the YouTube video series not only shows how the Chita Musume characters are used for regional promotion but also how the Aichi prefectural government has institutionalized its regional promotion practice through the use of moe characters.

Undoubtedly, a complete analysis of the YouTube video series requires an analysis of every video. However, the delimitation of this research is more modest. Drawing on Rose's (2016) discourse analysis I, this section examines a video about Mihama Town, because that particular video is used on the Aichi prefectural government's website to represent the entire series. In other words, focusing on the specific video as an exemplary case of the particular moe-okoshi practice from an institutional perspective would be a precondition for understanding how both Endgoal and the Aichi prefectural government regarded the specific site as a form of media for regional promotion.

The 1 minute 39 seconds video introduces five locations in Mihama Town for both domestic and foreign audiences by using the character of Mihama Ren. According to the website, she is a cute 20-year-old college student who does not have a boyfriend (Tokutei Hieiri Katsudō Hōjin Endgoal, n.d. b); she does not refer to her relationship status in the video. The video starts with Mihama Ren's spirited self-introduction. She slowly walks from the left to the center of the screen, waving to the audience, shaking her body, and introducing herself with a cheerful voice, “Pleased to meet you! I’m Ren Mihama” (PlayAichiChitahantou, 2011). She then introduces Minami-Chita Beach Land and then Minami-Chita Toy Kingdom within Beach Land. The video was designed to showcase tourist spots while allowing audiences to have fun with Mihama Ren. For instance, the video depicts dolphin and sea lion shows at Beach Land. Mihama Ren emphasizes the cuteness of the animals by energetically posing questions (“Aren’t they cute?”). Mihama Ren then introduces Shrimp Cracker Village as the third spot and expresses strong feelings about how good the crackers taste. Finally, Mihama Ren writes her name on her left palm with the index finger of her right hand, looks upward at the audience, and then shakes herself again to introduce the last two spots as tourist sites for a dating couple:

My name, Ren, is written with the Chinese character for love. This town has two places that are very popular with couples who are in love. First, let's go to the Noma Lighthouse, the symbol of Mihama. The view of the lighthouse seen from the shore to its south is very romantic. The other is Koinomizu Shrine, which means “love water shrine.” It is well known as a matchmaking shrine. The plates for writing your wish are in the shape of cute hearts. They say your love wish comes true if you write your name on a paper cup, pour in half a cup of water, and offer it to the god of the shrine … I’m sure my wish will come true since I’ve prayed at the shrine. (PlayAichiChitahantou, 2011)

The video frames and constructs Mihama Town as a dating spot for both domestic and foreign audiences in a particular way through the eyes of Mihama Ren. The Noma Lighthouse is framed as a “romantic” spot rather than as a navigational aid for maritime pilots, while the Koinomizu Shrine is reduced to being “a matchmaking shrine”—an approach that sets aside the shrine's rich history. In practice, the shrine is more than just “a matchmaking shrine”: it is dedicated to the Mizuhamenokami deity (a Shintō god of water) and is known for its small fountain whose water has been described as a panacea (Kabushikigaisha Heibonsha, 1981). Legend has it that Empress Kōmyō (701–760) drank water from the fountain and recovered from her disease. Nevertheless, the video helps marginalize the history of anything not directly related to what is defined as a “matchmaking shrine” by using moe-elements that represent the “desired characteristics of things” in Mihama Town (Azuma, 2009: 43). While some scholarship suggests that contents tourism can be seen as a resource for learning about historical figures (Sugawa-Shimada, 2015), it is important to note that such moe-okoshi reduces the rich history of the Koinomizu Shrine into the history of matchmaking by reframing the shrine as a looked-upon object in a specific way.

Just as Azuma (2009) indicates, the YouTube video also allows its audiences to focus on moe-elements of the character as a resource for their database consumption. In the specific video, for example, moe-elements embody the senses of sight and hearing. As far as sight is concerned, for example, the character's maid-like costume can be clearly read as moe-elements (e.g, Azuma, 2009). More notably, she is designed as wearing orange items for the regional promotion of Mihama Town: an orange band and a frilly white and orange miniskirt. The particular color of the specific items involving moe-elements reflects a hiking trail “Orange Line” in the town. As such, Mihama Ren is equipped with moe-elements by which spectators can develop their imagination about the particular anime character.

More intriguingly, Mihama Ren changes her size and appearance throughout the video clip. At the beginning of the clip, she is depicted as tall as a Japanese female adult. While introducing the first two locations to her audience, however, her size becomes smaller, making her a childlike and cute anime character. Mihama Ren grows to normal adult size when introducing the last two locations. That is, her size and appearance became more or less realistic and further sexualized as a looked-upon visual object when “romance” is emphasized. Intriguingly, Mihama Ren suddenly wears a Christian cross around her neck when she looks slightly embarrassed and says, “I’m sure my wish will come true since I’ve prayed at the shrine,” asking the audience to agree with her in the last image of the video clip. Her sincere wish is clearly materialized in the cross, which also provides a moe-element by which spectators can develop their narratives with her in their ways.

As for the sense of hearing, the character's high and loud voice and way of speaking can be seen as a moe-element (e.g. Kawahara, 2016). In addition to the spirited and cheerful self-introduction, her sincere wish involves the character's shy but somewhat arousing voice. The slightly embarrassed tone of her voice can be better understood in relation to Japanese ways of performing femininity (e.g. Miller, 2004), but it could provide rich resources by which audiences can construct moe-elements for their database consumption. Through a combination of such moe-elements, Mihama Ren was created as a moe character for male spectators, providing affective resources that allow the male audience to enter a world in which they take a virtual date with her in Mihama Town.

Discussion

The YouTube video series including Mihama Ren's video was widely circulated: it made both Mihama Ren and Mihama Town gazed-upon objects for male audiences as apparently ideal spectators. Put differently, moe-centered Mihama Town was designed as one such “interpretative communities” (Fish, 1982) or a moe-media-driven interpretative community where audiences shared collective fantasies of Mihama Town on the basis of the male gaze as moe-consuming spectators within their popular culture contexts that operate through the intentions of moe-okoshi practitioners including those of the CMJI and local government in Aichi Prefecture. Such interpretative communities not only reflect some of the dominant values and moral judgment in Japanese society but also indicate that moe-okoshi practitioners uncritically capitalized on the gendered aspects of a moe character as an affective resource for regional and tourism promotion, thus helping to reinforce the social identity of audiences as moe consumers with the male gaze. In doing so, such moe-okoshi practices may not merely promote the idea of treating the young female as a gazed-upon object for moe consumers, but also reinforce the prevailing notion of heteronormativity with regard to regional promotion in the region and beyond.

While the CMJI capitalized on moe characters created by the female illustrator for regional promotion, a discourse analysis of the YouTube video indicates how Japanese society views regional promotion as in the service of heterosexual men's pleasure—it also suggests the extent to which the local Japanese government and mass media naturalized the notion of male gaze under the guise of regional promotion. Ultimately, the moe-centered regional promotion practices by the CMJI imply and multiply the institutional power of defining regional promotion to attract attention and tourists by reinforcing the view of young females as gazed-upon objects at the expense of its rich history. In doing so, the moe-okoshi practice not only interpellates its audience as heteronormative masculine subjects but also redesigns each city and town as a gender-loaded interpretative community where its audiences express and share their desires regarding a moe character based on male gazes to ensure their database consumption.

Conclusions

This study indicates that the moe-okoshi practice is a double-edged sword. Given that Japanese mass media had used anime characters to promote different goods and products (e.g. Steinberg, 2012), the CMJI gained wide media exposure in Japan with its moe characters. However, its moe-okoshi practice merely proposes the simplest of solutions for regional promotion, that is, making the complicated issues involved in regional promotion appear to be nothing more than issues of moe consumption. In doing so, its moe-okoshi practice essentially reduces each area's rich history to a simplistic narrative for domestic and foreign audiences that are likely to capture the moe-elements of the characters for their database consumption. As such, moe-okoshi practice may contribute to the colonization of each area through the embedded male gaze, thus turning local spots into dating spots and constraining the scope of regional promotion to a matter of visibility for particular audiences.

More significantly, the gendered dimensions of moe-okoshi practice not only make further impositions upon the effectiveness of regional promotion but also involve ethical issues. Moe-okoshi can alienate many audience members who do not accept the idea of moe from its target audiences; it also reinforces the prevailing view of young women as gazed-upon objects under the name of regional promotion. While the notion of regional promotion per se can be seen to have nothing to do with gender and politics, this article advances the concept of male gaze by pointing out that a female illustrator apparently took up the idea of the male gaze to design a moe character for regional promotion in contemporary Japanese society and indicates that moe-okoshi functions to justify the institutionalized act of interpellating its audiences as normatively masculine subjects.

This article examined a single YouTube video on Mihama Ren. It did not analyze other videos on Chita Musume characters. Moreover, this article did not investigate the reception aspect of the Chita Musume characters. As Rose (2016) indicated, paying attention to “the site of audiencing” by engaging with ethnography for visual materials such as the Chita Musume characters would be crucial. This is a direction that future scholars might take to acquire a better understanding of moe-related regional promotion. Nevertheless, this article critically examines the CMJI and demonstrates that its moe-okoshi practice is more than just a type of regional promotion.