Prejudice and Power Theme Analysis

The Man in the High Castle imagines an alternate history in which the Allied Powers (namely the U.S. and Britain) lost World War II. Though it takes place entirely within the former United States, America has now been colonized in the east by the Nazis and in the west by the Japanese. This colonization has made the white characters under Japanese rule second-class citizens: they live in segregated neighborhoods, have limited job opportunities, and face daily indignities. Yet The Man in the High Castle does not present this kind of legalized racism—which resembles a milder version of the American Jim Crow system—as in any way uniquely Japanese. Instead, by emphasizing tensions between Germany, Japan and Italy; by revealing its white characters’ privately racist thoughts; and by moving between alternate history and historical reality, the novel suggests that harmful biases exist across place and culture. But while the novel suggests that bias is universal, it also shows how only the war’s winners gain power to actually shape society according to their prejudices. The Man in the High Castle thus serves as a cautionary tale to the real historical victors of World War II—the Americans and the British—warning them not to use their power to uphold racist systems. 

Though Italy, Germany and Japan were all technically victorious in the war, racial tensions still exist among the three powers—and each group is discriminated against by the others. Italian truck driver Joe complains that on the east coast, where the Nazis are in charge, he cannot get a good job because his skin is too “dark.” By contrast, on the west coast—where the Japanese are in power—white people attempt to darken their skin tones. This juxtaposition reveals that while the aesthetic values themselves may differ, racism and colorism play a major role in every one of the novel’s post-war societies. Similarly, while the Japanese have instituted one kind of rigid “place” system in the PSA (in which white people automatically have lower status), the Nazis treat have a completely opposite hierarchy. For example, in San Francisco, only Japanese people are allowed to live in the nicest neighborhoods; in New York, only white people are allowed to read the most controversial books. The same people are thus treated differently depending on which government is in charge, further suggesting that political power—regardless of who holds it—can be used to enforce prejudice on a systemic level. These prejudiced beliefs then affect even the smallest personal interactions. When Mr. Tagomi prepares to greet Mr. Baynes with a gift, he assumes that Baynes lacks “comprehension” of Japanese art and disdains it like other Nordic people. So even though Tagomi is at the top of the hierarchy in San Francisco, he must still navigate harmful anti-Japanese stereotypes when he deals with people from other parts of the world. Interestingly, Tagomi also has certain biases, as the real Baynes has almost nothing to do with the generic “Nordic” figure Tagomi imagines. Though Tagomi is more active than many other characters in examining his own prejudices, even he occasionally stereotypes, suggesting that no one is immune from this biased instinct.

Moreover, while white Americans have very little power in the Pacific States of America, The Man in the High Castle demonstrates the extent to which they retain their internal racial and ethnic biases. Though at first Robert Childan hopes to impress his Japanese clients, he soon grows frustrated with his feelings of admiration. “Why do I cater to them?” wonders Childan, “due solely to their having won?” In other words, Childan is recognizing that Japan’s political and military victory has translated into cultural (and racial) power—a fact that seems only to fuel his racist resentment. After all, Childan’s deep-seated prejudices have not disappeared with his loss of power. “Only the white races endowed with creativity,” he fumes, “think how it would have been if we would have won! No Japan today, and the U.S.A. gleaming great sole power in entire world.” Childan’s internal monologue suggests that had the Americans won, he would have wanted the Japanese to face much worse treatment than they had subjected the U.S. to—yet Childan does not seem to realize this hypocrisy. This barely suppressed racism is in fact common among the novel’s white Americans. Juliana, remembering that Frank likes Japanese people, wonders if “maybe he identifies with them because they’re ugly.” Here, the novel is again asserting that the average white American has at least as many (and likely far more) prejudices than their Japanese colonizers; the only difference is that the Japanese hold power, while the Americans do not.

Finally, when Mr. Tagomi briefly stumbles into historical reality, he discovers that the same cultural hierarchies are still in place—only this time reversed, since it is a white American government in power as opposed to a Japanese one. When Tagomi first switches timelines, he encounters a white policeman and is met with an unusual lack of respect. Tagomi is initially furious to have been “interrupted by that white barbarian Neanderthal yank,” whom he sees as “subhuman.” But he then reflects that this kind of “racist invective” is “beneath” him, the result of a frustrated moment.  Tagomi feels able to take out his anger on people he assumes are less powerful, which in his normal life would be white people. This moment is therefore an example of dramatic irony, as Tagomi does not know yet how the racial hierarchy has flipped on its head. Minutes later, Tagomi makes his way to a diner filled with white men. Not only does no one give up their seat to him, but one man tells him to “watch it, Tojo.” The racist phrase, which lumps Tagomi in with Hideki Tojo (one of the most violent Japanese generals in World War II), again emphasizes American prejudice. But more than that, this scene illustrates that the war’s winners will continue to humiliate and stereotype its losers—regardless of whether those winners are Japanese or American.

Of course, the alternate reality that Tagomi stumbles into is the actual reality of postwar America; as Juliana says, speculative novels tell us “about our own world,” reflecting back our own realities and biases. The Man in the High Castle therefore warns its readers not to be complacent merely because, in actuality, the U.S. won the war and the Nazis and Japanese lost it. Instead, the novel uses its upside-down world to suggest that Americans must be careful about how they wield power: they should not just condemn other groups’ biases but should work to check their own.