The unprecedented catastrophes in Japan have put the world into grief and terror. In particular, the meltdown of the Fukushima nuclear reactors, which have been severely damaged by the recent earthquake and tsunami, is dragging the nation into terrifying danger of radioactive contamination.

The Japanese government's performance over the entire crisis has been deemed unsatisfactory. Its frantic effort to cool the collapsing Fukushima nuclear power plant is working for the moment, but appears to be more prayer than plan. As one American official with long nuclear experience said to The New York Times, Japan is "just throwing everything at it in hopes something will work."

The ultimate cause of this dire situation is attributable to the out-of-date Fukushima nuclear facilities, which were not remotely capable of surviving major natural disasters. They weren't built to cope with a quake of such magnitude, but this extremely aged plant was allowed to continue.

This raises a fundamental question: How on earth could a first-world country which was governed by the rule of law, but often hit by earthquakes, have been at ease with the threat of shoddy reactors?

Under the rule of law, the public has the right to information. This right is ensured by the transparent nature of democracy that is supported by a multi-layered monitoring mechanism such as the two-party system, non-governmental organizations and media publicity.

Such a system can enable the public to participate in State affairs, question and influence political decision-making processes and therefore safeguard their own rights.

But why did this system utterly fail in monitoring the quality of the Fukushima nuclear plant?

In today's world, politics is increasingly dominated by powerful groups such as big companies and their lobbyists. The Tokyo Electric Power Company, which owns the Fukushima plant, is now being accused of keeping poor facilities in use which should have been retired long ago.

Had the Japanese public had sufficient political power or interest in the topic, they could have forced this company to renovate the plant to a satisfactory level. Such technologies are readily available.

The Japanese public and media also trusted the government too much. Back in 2006, Japan's Nuclear Safety Commission declared in its official guidelines that the country's nuclear facilities would "not be significantly affected" in the event of a tsunami.

In general, a democratic government's word is far less questioned by the public because they believe in the existence of reliability under a transparent, monitored political regime.

Whatever the causes, a democratic government in one of the world's most developed nations fails to put its citizens' most basic right, the right to life, as its absolute priority.

And it is only after hardships hit that can we really judge a government because many problems of our society are hidden during ordinary life. The Fukushima nuclear crisis is a typical example: The problems had always been there but were never spelt out.

The Fukushima nuclear crisis is not new to us. We should not forget the global financial tsunami, which was the result of greed and overconsumption.

What on earth is the real value of democracy to the American people who are still suffering the dreadful aftermath of a collapse caused by a handful of greedy brokers?

The solution does not lie in denying democracy. Answers, however, can only be reached when our understanding and practice of democracy are built upon new mindsets and economic patterns. These patterns must reject materialism and overconsumption.

To achieve this, we will have to remove commercial greed and games from the roots of democracy, and create systems that are far more environmentally friendly, more technologically advanced and less energy driven.

The author is an expert on international intellectual property law.