In this article I take a look at moe from the perspective of images as opposed to strict character types. I propose that there are four categories of moe images:
- Junai-kei moe: images in which a loving, but not explicitly sexual relationship is depicted or implied between the moe heroine and the male viewer or his narrative proxy. Found most commonly in renai games such as those produced by Aquaplus / Leaf and Key.
- Otome-kei moe: images in which male presence is deemphasized in favor of a scene which implicates the heroine(s) as the centerpiece of an idealized past or present. Found most commonly in (nonsexual) yuri such as Marimite and in anime / manga such as Kamichu, Kokoro Library, and Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou.
- Erokawaii-kei moe: images in which the moe heroine is sexualized, to an extent limited by a) her innocence and b) her consent, for the benifit of the male viewer or his narrative proxy. Found most commonly in erotic games, manga and anime, and as such is often conflated with lolicon.
- Denpa-kei moe: images in which style, fetish symbols and costumes crowd out significant narrative meaning, trading on the value of pure exhuberant cuteness. Found most commonly in mascot characters, the work of artists such as POP, and nonsensical anime (Digi Charat killing two birds with one stone here).
A common thread that runs through all of these is the image in which the heroine is first made aware of the viewer’s gaze, resulting in some form of embarassment; I’ve pressed the term kaimami into service to represent this phenomenon, although its original meaning is somewhat different.
That pretty much sums up the conclusions I’ve reached in the past few months of musing on the topic. If you’re interested in the circuitous route that brought me there, examinations of Akamatsu’s view on moe, the Moetry for You position, or any of several corollary issues and problematic elements of moe, by all means read on.
Note: in the interest of respecting artist copyright I’ve decided against including example images here that I don’t have express permission to use. Should a more visual discussion arise I would recommend the forums for that purpose.
Moe (èŒãˆ) is a term which has risen to commonplace use in the otaku lexicon over the past several years, and while its colloquial meaning is widely understood, its formal properties have seldom been addressed. This article proposes to delve more deeply into the otaku mind in an attempt to discover and expose the intricacies of moe appeal.
Moe’s current usage can be roughly equated with that of the more broadly defined verb å¥½ã (suki; to like or love), although grammatically its position is more ambiguous; the phrase ã•ãã‚‰ã¡ã‚ƒã‚“èŒãˆ (Sakura-chan moe) can be parsed in several ways if we shunt a couple of particles around:
- As a verb: [boku wa] Sakura-chan [ga] moe [desu] translates as “I (moe/like) Sakura-chan”.
- As an adjective: Sakura-chan [wa] moe [desu] translates as “Sakura-chan is (moe/likeable)”.
- As an interjection: Sakura-chan moe!! translates as “Sakura-chan love!!”
- As a noun: Sakura-chan [wa] moe [ga nai] translates as “Sakura-chan lacks (moe/likeability)”.
These direct translations result in a reduction of meaning almost to the point of incoherence; the substitution of “like” for “moe” in all cases is obviously insufficient. My goal in this piece is to understand, based on an array of usage instances, the specific ways in which moe is rendered as a subset of taste (as denoting taste is the function of “liking”).
To do this, I will be focusing primarily on the term’s use as an adjective as it applies to characters as depicted in images and narratives. I contend that its usage as a verb is contingent on a subconscious understanding of a common moe referent system, which I will proceed to outline. Note that the history and etymology of the term are not part of this article’s purview, being both largely speculative in nature and well covered elsewhere; instead I will be focusing on its current construction as developed over the past decade.
Groundwork of Moe: Usage
Before we proceed, it will be useful to know a bit of sociological lingo: when we look at an image, we are subconsciously indexing it against what is called a referent system: a background set of properties, attributes, and associations that enable us to infer meaning from everything we see and hear (or otherwise experience). It is the moe referent system, existing in the mind of the otaku, that it is our goal to penetrate and understand. What are the laws that govern his perception, understanding, and appreciation of moe?
In other words, when an otaku declares his undying love for our hypothetical Sakura with the statement “Sakura-chan moe” (I like Sakura), what does he mean? What are the properties she possesses that make her attractive to him – that when viewed, cause him to melt into a puddle of gibbering goo? The understanding of these properties and their interplay with his network of subconscious associations will lead us to a fuller understanding of the moe phenomenon.
Because we are talking about properties first and foremost, and properties aren’t verbs, we must formulate moe as an adjective or noun. “Like” transposes awkwardly into “likeable” and “likeability” respectively, so it will be expedient to choose a more fitting term to correlate with moe: appeal.
Moe is a type of appeal. When used as a noun, the word â€œappealâ€ can replace the word â€œmoeâ€ in a phrase with its meaning unchanged aside from the level of specificity lost when moving from a narrow classification to a broader one. Likewise, moe as adjective can be replaced by â€œappealingâ€ with a similar retention of general meaning. Thus, Sakura wa moe ga nai becomes â€œSakura lacks appealâ€ and Sakura wa moe desu becomes â€œSakura is appealingâ€.
Like all forms of appeal, moe exists in the eye (and mind) of the beholder; that is to say, there is no moe without a moerer (viewer). Understanding what the viewer sees in an image he describes as moe will help lead us to a definition of the term. Weâ€™ll come back to this concept. A lot.
Moe is a set of generally accepted stylistic and thematic elements. While they may not be explicitly defined, for the purposes of this piece we must assume the term does have some definition beyond “I know it when I see it.” I think it could be argued convincingly that within the sphere of anime and manga moe is in fact an art movement, but I don’t have the time or art history cred to go there myself. Note that this assertion is challenged, to a certain extent, by the original verb formulation of moe (see the Issues section below).
Moe is a property of characters as depicted in images. These images are in turn informed by narratives (what is happening in the image). There is no moe without a character, there is no character without an image, and there is no image without a narrative (however sparse or nonsensical it may be).
When we speak of a moe anime, manga, or game, what weâ€™re talking about is a work in which moe characters are depicted, and these depictions are informed by a narrative. Other narrative and structural elements of the work inform the moe image as well, the details of which weâ€™ll get into later.
When speaking of an original image as moe, unrelated to any further sequential work, the narrative is derived from the content of the image in â€œa picture is worth a thousand wordsâ€ fashion. This is done subconsciously, of course, as part of the lightning-fast mental process of interpreting meaning in an image. Identifying the narrative that informs a moe image is one of the keys to understanding its appeal to the otaku mind, and the ability to infer an image’s narrative is a key part of the moe referent system.
These three assertions (that a. moe is a form of appeal, b. it has generally accepted traits and c. it is a property of characters as depicted in images) are central to the continuation of this analysis; if you disagree with any of the three, try to bear with me until the Issues section, where I’ve attempted to address some of the problems with this approach.
Now that weâ€™ve agreed on the basic usage of the term, itâ€™s time to dive into the murky depths of the otaku mind and look through his eyes at a moe character. What is her defining attribute?
The First Law of Moe
A moe character cannot be aware of her own appeal.
Indeed a large portion of her appeal comes from the viewerâ€™s knowledge of this fact. When an otaku looks at an image he describes as moe, first and foremost he sees a character who is not consciously trying to leverage her other appealing attributes to attract or seduce the viewer. This fresh, unspoiled innocence lies at the heart of moe appeal.
This lack of self-awareness, when inverted and framed as a positive attribute, can be called the moe character (hereafter referred to as the heroine)â€™s maidenly virtue, modesty, or propriety. An image has several ways of engaging this concept, ranging from affirmation to abandonment, and it is this engagement that provides one of the principal metrics for gauging the moe quality of an image.
The following five categories encompass the various ways a heroine’s propriety can be addressed by a moe image:
- All maidenly virtue, all the time. The image’s narrative affirms a conservative, almost mythically hypertraditional sense of correctness.
- The heroine’s virtue is placed in an everyday context; that is to say, it is generally preserved by the narrative, but not to a rarified extent. The narrative may depict a fantastic scenario, but it won’t place the heroine’s sense of propriety in particular danger.
- The heroine’s virtue is compromised by the narrative in some improbable set of circumstances. The heroine’s reacts with righteous indignation to revert the narrative to its proper status quo as soon as possible.
- The heroine’s sense of a proper self image is seriously challenged by the narrative depiction of a fantastically improbable or impossible event. She either reacts with outraged embarassment (not possibly commesurate with the insult to her dignity that she has recieved), or begins to accept her role as an icon of sex or cuteness. Either way, the role her virtue plays in the image’s narrative is reduced significantly.
- The heroine’s virtue is either surrendered as she embraces the reality of her sexualization, or it is rendered irrelevant by her reduction to nothing more than the sum of her visual attributes.
In addition to an imageâ€™s narrative, as discussed above, there are several other components of a moe image that work to describe the characterâ€™s position relative to her sense of virtue as depicted in the image and interpreted by the moe referent system. These components include:
Ambience: The feeling or emotion conveyed by, and the physical properties depicted in the image’s mise-en-scÃ¨ne.
Relationships: Ties between characters, based on kinship or emotion, that bear on the image’s narrative. By necessity relationships are established within the broader context of the work the image is derived from, or spelled out textually within the image itself.
Roles: The heroine’s occupation, and that of other characters, as depicted in the image. Often fetishized, roles can either be meaningfully tied to the image’s narrative and relationships or reduced to their fetish status as little more than costumes (see below).
Symbols: Costumes and props / accessories depicted in the image that have gained fetish status. They can be employed by the image either for their original use or their fetishized use.
Style: Character design elements that set moe characters apart from other character types. The predominant stylistic trait of moe is found in the head and face; the ears drop to the base of the jaw, pulling cheekbones, lower eyelids, and the bridge of the nose with them. Eyes and forehead become larger, nose and mouth smaller, head rounder. These alterations can vary from a subtle, more realistic look to cartoonish “BESM” deformations.
When taken together, how do these various properties of the moe image impact the viewer’s perception of the character it depicts? We find the answer in
The Second Law of Moe
The greater an image’s emphasis on style and fetish symbol at the expense of narrative, ambience and relationships, the less relevant propriety becomes.
Conversely, the greater the emphasis on narrative the further style and symbol are rendered contingent to it and the greater role the heroine’s purity or virtue plays in the image.
We have now developed nearly all of the tools we need for a complete understanding of what the moerer sees in a moe image, but one important factor remains: the extent to which the viewer himself, whether directly or through a proxy character, is interpolated into the image’s narrative.
There are five possible levels of male presence in an image:
- None. The viewer is ignored by the image.
- Accessory. The viewer (or his narrative proxy) is acknowledged by the image, but his presence has minimal impact.
- Voyeur. The viewer’s direct gaze is acknowledged by the image, but he is not able to participate actively in its narrative.
- Central. The viewer is the focal point of the image’s narrative. His active participation is allowed.
- Intimate. The viewer is implicated as the heroine’s lover.
The Third Law of Moe governs the relationship between the viewer’s distance from an image and its heroine’s “maidenly virtue”, or propriety. It should come as no surprise that
The closer the viewer (or his narrative proxy) becomes to a moe character, the harder it is for her to maintain her sense of propriety.
This law documents more of a trend than an uncrossable line; scenes in which the heroine is focused on the viewer or his proxy can certainly be pure and virtuous, but they may also tend toward sexual innuendo as the law would imply.
Moe as Emotion
We now know what the otaku sees when he looks at a moe image, but before we continue we need to turn around inside his head and find out what he feels. This brings us to
The Fourth (and final) Law of Moe
The viewer’s emotional response to a moe image is a function of the convergence of his position relative to the image with the heroine’s state of maidenly virtue as depicted therein.
- In response to an image where male presence is not implicated and the heroine’s virtue is affirmed, the viewer reacts with sentimentality, nostalgia, empathy, and a sense of affirmation or alignment with a (probably fictional) status quo.
- In response to an image where male presence is intimately depicted and the heroine’s virtue is preserved, the viewer reacts with an urge to comfort or support the heroine (if she is weaker) or be comforted or supported by her (if she is stronger).
- In response to an image where the male is present as a voyeur and the heroine’s virtue is compromised, the viewer is titillated by the resulting sexual tension.
- In response to an image where the male is central or intimate, and the heroine’s virtue is challenged or surrendered, sexual arousal is elicited in the viewer.
- In response to an image where male presence is not implicated and the heroine’s virtue is irrelevant, the viewer is prompted to react with excitement and diffuse energy.
Broadly considered, these five responses combined with their triggers provide a comprehensive scheme for the catagorization of moe images and narratives, as depicted in the following diagram. This can be seen, in essence, as a map of the moe referent system:
Junai-kei moe (ç´”æ„›ç³»)
The harmonic depiction of innocent lovers is the province of junai-kei moe, an image type commonly found in popular renai games. Note that the male character need not be shown in the image for his presence to be evident to the viewer (and the heroine); such images are often more powerful when the heroine is seen to be addressing the viewer (or player, in this case) directly.
Otome-kei moe (ä¹™å¥³ç³»)
The beauty and grace of everyday life in nearly utopian tranquility is captured by otome-kei moe. Unfettered for the most part by concerns of love or sex, the heroine goes about her business in perfect and idyllic innocence. Male characters are rarely present, though female interaction in the image can lend it a strong yuri tinge (but not beyond the bounds of propriety).
Erokawaii-kei moe (ã‚¨ãƒå¯æ„›ã„ç³»)
The heroine acknowledges the proximity of the male gaze, and likes it. The erotically cute moe image is just that, a girl who may be shy but is willing to shed most conventions of virtue for the benefit of the viewer or his proxy. The extent to which sexual activity is allowed here is open to debate, but force or coersion perpetrated by either party is a hard limit to this form of moe.
Denpa-kei moe (é›»æ³¢ç³»)
Denpa is a term used to describe nauseatingly saccharine, hyper-cute bishoujo game theme songs, and denpa-kei moe images are just that: heavily stylized, almost Dadaist depictions of heroines often so decked out in props and costumes that few physical design traits remain. Not overtly sexualized and with little male presence to interfere, these mascot-like characters are the iconic bastions of moe.
Translated directly as “looking through gaps in a fence”, kaimami is a literary device that dates back to the Tale of Genji. This time-honored tradition persists today in moments of voyeuristic titillation that can crop up across the spectrum of moe narratives, but most comfortably occupy an unstable position at the center of the mix, representing the moment when the viewer’s gaze compromises the heroine’s virtue for the first time.
Issues in Moe
There are several corollary themes that have thus far been assumed in the course of this analysis. What follows is an attempt to unpack some of them:
Primacy of the Image
Q. It’s assumed here that the image is the primary vehicle of moe; that is to say, the viewer can look at an image in isloation and describe it as moe with no further referential material. Is this really the case?
A. Yes and no. To clarify, when a moerer views an image he references various libraries of meaning to determine its moe content: first the character, then the narrative, then the other various stylistic elements and symbols. If he lacks knowledge of a particular image’s narrative referent (he hasn’t seen the anime or read the manga it is derived from) its appeal may be less obvious.
Q. Doesn’t moe just boil down to personal preference? Why spend so much time trying to categorize it?
A. What I try to show here is that moe isn’t just liking (or loving, or being turned on by) anything, it’s a more specific emotion or trait that can only be applied to certain entities (moe heroines) without lapsing into incoherence.
Of course, this is at odds with a segment of its actual usage (“train moe”, etc.) but I would argue that these are loose slang references to the type of emotion instantiated most directly in the moe categories I have outlined above.
Q. What’s wrong with Ken Akamatsu’s interpretation of moe? Or that of Moetry for You? They seem perfectly serviceable.
A. Akamatsu’s “nurture” theory is interesting, but it ignores a good three-fourths of the moe spectrum (otome, erokawaii, and denpa). These are all well-established uses of the term (though not by my arbitrarily coined terminology, of course) and by not addressing their broad public acceptance he limits his theory to being only partially complete, at best. Of tangential concern is how Akamatsu would rate his own work given the standards he sets for moe; his perpetually henpecked protagonists and fanservicey females don’t seem well-suited to his formulation (with the exception of Earth Defense Force Mao-chan, perhaps).
Moetry for You also ignores the baser and more frilly points of moe, but generally does a fine job of encapsulating its spirit. It’s certainly a more authentic take on the topic than this.
Q. Can the moe “heroine” be male? Can the moerer be female?
A. Yes and yes. I think it is clear that a fair segment of shotacon can be counted as moe in the various senses outlined here. Regarding the gender of the viewer I can only speculate that women are capable of appreciating innocent virtue in ways similar to men; if I were to sketch out a reverse-gender diagram it would look something like this:
Q. How do manga and anime originally targeted at girls fit into the moe spectrum?
A. Magical girl properties, along with some yuri, exist at a peculiar confluence of the moe and shoujo genres. They’ve been increasingly co-opted into the moe mainstream, to the extent that very similar male-oriented titles have been created to cash in on their popularity (compare Burston’s Engage eroge to Marimite, for example, or compare Nanoha to Precure).
While not all shoujo is well suited to migration, magical girl shows tend to rest comfortably in the denpa niche with their superabundance of costumes, accessories, and simplistic narratives. Shoujo yuri isn’t as common and subsequently sees less representation, but when it is accepted it finds a place in the conservative end of otome-kei moe.
Q. At what age can a heroine be described as “moe”? When does she grow out of it?
A. The first law of moe dictates that the heroine cannot be aware of her own appeal. Implicit in this is that she has the potential to be made aware of it; i.e. that she posesses enough self-awareness and social consciousness to engage in a propriety-based narrative. Thus she must be well beyond Lacan’s mirror stage and have had an opportunity to begin the realization of social mores: around the age of five or six.
On the opposite end of the spectrum we find the heroine aging out of the period of youth in which innocence is still credible; notions of girlish virtue can only linger for so long before they become a wink-and-nod caricature. I would place the absolute limit here at around age thirty, though such characters are extremely rare; the standard moe age range is between late elementary and high school (or some kind of mythical post-secondary “gakuen” level of education invented so eroge protagonists can be both legal and still in school).
Q. Can a non-human character be moe?
A. I would contend that non-human characters cannot be considered moe. With that said, the moeverse has managed to stretch the definition of “humanity” to previously unknown breadth, including androids, catgirls, bunny girls, various forms of undead, dolls, and etc; basically anything with a vaguely human shape and humanlike intelligence. Non-human characters are thus limited to animal sidekicks (which may be cute, but not moe) and any other personifications that a virtue-based narrative cannot be applied to coherently.
Q. Can a nonliving item be moe?
A. According to my formulation, no. Trains, spaceships, power tools, cars, guns and the like can’t be moe because, while they may argueably be characters in some narratives, they’re not sentient. I feel ridiculous even trying to explain this, so I’ll stop here. Anyone who calls a train “moe” is either hallucinating or using the term in an irresponsibly broad context when other words would be better suited to the task.
Q. What is the difference between kawaii and moe?
A. “Kawaii” translates relatively cleanly as “cute”, and is applied in a similar range of situations. It could be argued that all moe characters are also kawaii, but the reverse is certainly not true: animals, clothing, cars, faces, babies, houses, old ladies, phrases, etc. etc. are all instances of objects that can be described as kawaii but not moe. As I think has been made clear, moe is a property of human or human-like characters only, within an age range that permits them to be both socially aware and innocent.
Q. What is the relationship between fanservice and moe?
- Heroine-initiated service occurs when the heroine deliberately exposes herself to the viewer, and is rare except in erokawaii moe.
- Accidental service occurs when an act of nature, another character, or simple bad timing serves to expose the heroine to a (typically unwanted) male gaze. This is the textbook example of what I’ve termed kaimami and usually results in severe physical damage to any male characters involved, though the heroine’s emotion is occasionally more self-centered embarassment or consternation than an immediate concern for retribution and the righting of the virtuous status quo.
- Camera-based service occurs when, absent a male proxy, the camera takes “artistic liberties” in its placement vis a vis a heroine’s particular assets. Too much of this in an image or narrative and its virtue-based credibility is reduced, shading either toward denpa, erokawaii, or Agent Aika.
- Prop / costume-based service is the exploitation of fetishized moe symbols, and is found mostly in denpa and erokawaii moe.
A. Discounting more esoteric forms of service (references to other works, detailed mechanics, realistic physics / props and the like), there are four types of fanservice moe is concerned with:
In certain respects moe as a genre could be considered an exercise in fanservice, as some form of it tends to be present in almost every moetic work.
Q. Can moe only be conveyed by images? What about other media, such as text and sound?
A. This is a poser. I’m tempted to say that raw text can’t adequately represent moe unless reinforced by at least an image or two, as is standard for Japanese serial novels, but I’m by no means certain of this. I’ve never read a block of text that I would consider “moe” on its face, but my experience with Japanese literature leaves much to be desired. Using a slightly looser definition it could possibly be argued that novels such as the Betsy Tacy series are moe, but I’m not prepared to go very far in that direction.
The obvious candidate for “moe sound” would be denpa, and to the extent that it shares a name with one of the categories I’ve chosen I feel obligated to include it here. As my analysis has thus far been limited to moe images I haven’t developed a vocabulary yet with which to discuss sound, and whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.
Q. To what extent do authoritative print sources and conversations with individuals who use the term in a natural context bear out this definition?
A. The ideas developed here are based on prolonged exposure to self-titled moe publications (Dengeki Moeoh, Moetan, Moegaku, Maritan, the Moe. eroge brand, etc), works in which the term is employed (ranging from Comic Party to Welcome to the NHK), and individuals who use the term in spoken and written Japanese to describe their personal preferences. I am confident that a similar investigation of readily available resources (including a Google image search for èŒãˆ) would yield comparable results.
Relationship with Lolicon
Q. Isn’t moe just lolicon in a fancy costume, and by extension an excuse for pedophilia?
A. The only aspect of moe that could possibly be conflated with lolicon is what I term erokawaii, which composes roughly a fourth of total moe material. While referring to real human children as “moe” is certainly disingenuous (see below) referring to moe illustrations as pedophilia is even moreso; as both Akamatsu and Moetry for You go to great pains to point out, the bulk of moe is not sexual, and the parts that are must by definition remain benign and consensual. Above all, it must be stressed that moe is an attribute of two-dimensional characters (again, see below).
Lest I come across as an apologist, it is true that “moe” has been coopted to a certain extent by advertisers eager to make a few quick yen off of an otaku community with seemingly infinite amounts of expendable cash. As such, its usage in seedier parts of the internet has been stretched to include images well beyond the pale of general consensus on the topic (what this piece is concerned with).
A concept central to moe that hasn’t been touched on yet here (though Akamatsu addresses it) is the notion of narrative stasis, or the “happily ever after” syndrome. The desire for moments of perfection to be frozen in time and memorialized is a common theme in moe narratives, especially renai games; the heroines often express the sentiment “I like you just as you are, and I want us to stay this way forever.” While the narrative may continue past that point of perfect bliss, narrative stasis is accomplished through the basic mechanism of static archival images.
Thus, I think it can be argued that moe in its purest form is distilled in these carefully composed one-shot images designed to capture a moment of perfect symbolism in whatever idiom it is representing. From the “sad girl in snow” to a flash of panties in mid-fall as a waitress stumbles and drops her tray, stasis as opposed to evolution, progress or improvement reigns supreme in the moe narrative.
This is part and parcel with the notion of moe as reinforcing a mythical status quo in which the moerer / viewer / player is not forced to acknowledge his shortcomings (much less the ones that may or may not have caused him to turn to this particular form of entertainment in the first place). Instead, he is accepted “as he is” by the heroine, and moments of happiness with her are preserved until time immortal with no fear of aging or falling out of love. This, I believe, is one of the central attractions of moe.
Another important question that remains is the issue of dimensionality. Is moe solely the province of two-dimensional characters, or can flesh and blood humans also lay claim to the attribute?
When considering three-dimensional moe we immediately run up against a couple of problems: first, the initial assertion that moe is a property of characters as depicted in images. Humans aren’t characters, so to lay claim to the moe attribute they must adopt a character identity. In turn, such an adoption violates in principle the first law of moe; namely that the moe heroine is unaware of her own innocent appeal.
When a person adopts a character identity (often through cosplay, or the appropriation of costumes and accessories associated with the character or role in question), her existence as moe becomes contingent not on her lack of knowledge of her appeal, but on her ability to induce the viewer’s suspension of disbelief. In other words, her ability to play pretend is set against the viewer’s willingness to be seduced.
The one group obviously immune from the precondition of adopting a character identity is that which has yet to develop knowledge of its own (sexual) appeal; i.e. prepubescent girls (or boys). I would contend, however, that applying the moe descriptor to them is disingenuous; “cute” is more straightforward, and not laden with the referent baggage of moe (or the attendant implications of pedophilia).
Another aspect of dimensionality that comes into play when considering moe is the or distillment that occurs when three dimensions are reduced to two. While it can be argued that behind every two-dimensional heroine is a three-dimensional artist who may have motives far less pure than the characters he or she depicts, compared to an in-the-flesh idol (or even an author) the moe artist is transparent, letting abstract brush strokes form meaning in the mind of each individual viewer untainted by residual artistic baggage or preconcieved notions of the creator.
Consider the possibility that two-dimensional characters are moe precisely because they are depicted in two dimensions, and it is this reduction, simplification , lack of pretense – it is this lack that allows the heroine to preserve her virtue unquestioned by the viewer.
The incessant and agressive commodification of moe stands at ironic odds against this central tenet, but compared with other options it may seem superior: what the moerer expends on moe brings guaranteed dividends, perhaps not of love, but of simplicity, understandability, purity, earnestness, honesty.
However you read the omens of moe – crass commercialism, social decay, artistic revolution, the harbinger of world peace, or just a bunch of delusional geeks who deserve to be bred out of the gene pool, in the near term the future of Japanese visual culture is very clear:
It will be flat, and it will be moe.