ASIA : Youth in Japan Not Eager to Grow Up : A government survey concludes today’s more affluent young people are less independent.

And now the latest news about growing up in Japan: A lot of the young don’t seem to want to.

On a recent drizzling afternoon, Noriko Matsumoto donned a bright silk kimono and headed over to the local public hall to participate in Coming of Age Day, the national ceremony marking the attainment of adulthood at age 20--along with the right to vote, smoke and drink. But ask her if she really wants to come of age, and the response is a wail.

“Nooooooooo! “ Matsumoto cried. “It’s easier staying a child--no responsibility or duty!”

Two new surveys--and a decidedly non-scientific sampling of 20-year-olds--indicates that Matsumoto is far from alone. According to separate surveys by the national government and Chiba University, Japan’s postwar affluence has enriched young people with unprecedented material luxuries but diminished their spiritual values, such as self-reliance, a sense of purpose in life and a desire to contribute to society.

Some 57.3% of eighth-graders had their own rooms in 1991, an increase over 48.7% in 1986, while 44% of college students had their own phone, according to the government’s 1992 White Paper on Youth released last week.

But the proportion of elementary school children who had an idea of what they want to be when they grow up fell to 30% in 1989 from 40% in 1984; and the 57.2% of college students with part-time jobs said they used the income for their own pleasure, still relying on their parents for major living expenses.

The survey concluded that today’s young people are less independent than previous generations, while their desire to serve society has diminished.

Meanwhile, a Chiba University survey of 577 people between ages 15 and 30 in Japan and America showed sharp national differences. Among Americans, 56% said they gain a sense of purpose in life when they contribute to society, compared with 24% of Japanese. And more Japanese than Americans--32% versus 19%--said they want to remain with their families rather than carving out an independent life.

In one sense, the shift in values of the young can be seen in the way Japan’s national Coming of Age ceremony itself has changed over time. Dating back to the days of the samurai hundreds of years ago, the ritual once initiated youth into manhood as early as age 13 with rigorous tests of physical endurance, such as climbing mountains. The ceremony also involved days of spiritual preparation during which initiates ate simple foods, purified themselves in the river and meditated with a Shinto priest.

And after the initiation, the new adults would leave their families and begin independent lives living communally with other young men.

For young women, the ritual took place at puberty and was marked by shaving their eyebrows and blackening their teeth.

But the Jan. 15 ceremony in the Shibuya district of Tokyo was a far cry from the solemn rites of the past. Nationwide, more than 2 million young people officially became adults on Coming of Age Day, the largest number in 22 years. More than 1,500 of them showed up in Shibuya: men in suits and women as colorful as butterflies in brilliant kimonos and hair flowers.

They chattered throughout VIP speeches in the auditorium. Many dashed out to the lobby to preen and check each other out. Only when the CC Girls, a sexy quartet of singers in their 20s, took the stage did the audience give its full attention.

In truth, several young adults confided, they came to ogle the CC Girls rather than celebrate their adulthood.

“When you’re a child, you can be honest. When you’re an adult, you have to start lying,” said Tomomi Sagi, who is studying to be a chef. “If that’s what an adult is, I don’t want to be one.”

But not all young people viewed growing up with so much skepticism. Engineering student Takeshi Koga looks forward to joining a major electronics firm after graduating from Waseda University and plans to help a friend mount a drive to donate radios to Southeast Asian children.

Kahori Ota aspires to set radically new models of independence for Japanese women. Not only does she want to hurry and finish her two-year business school so she can move out on her own; she also wants to have a child--sans husband.

“With the male thinking here that the woman belongs in the house, I think marriage would really narrow my world,” she said. “I’d prefer simply to have a lover for the rest of my life.”