I’ve been in Tokyo for a day now, and today I visited the Tsukiji fish market, the world’s largest, which handles more than 400 types of seafood every day. This includes fresh tuna weighing more than 600 pounds each, which are auctioned off in frenzied early-morning bidding and then quickly find their way into sushi bars across the country and around the world.

The irony is that many of these tuna are caught in waters off the coast of New England, then are shipped overnight to Tsukiji in Tokyo — and then, if deemed premium grade, may actually make their way back to America for sale in top-end sushi bars.

This article in Foreign Policy provides a fascinating look at the global network of fishermen, fishmongers, and businesspeople who bring that fresh pink tuna onto your dinner plate. Here’s one paragraph worth pondering:

Not to impugn the quality of the fish sold in the United States, but on the New England docks, the first determination of tuna buyers is whether they are looking at a “domestic” fish or an “export” fish. On that judgment hangs several dollars a pound for the fisher, and the supply of sashimi-grade tuna for fishmongers, sushi bars, and seafood restaurants up and down the Eastern seaboard. Some of the best tuna from New England may make it to New York or Los Angeles, but by way of Tokyo — validated as top quality (and top price) by the decision to ship it to Japan by air for sale at Tsukiji, where it may be purchased by one of the handful of Tsukiji sushi exporters who supply premier expatriate sushi chefs in the world’s leading cities.

So what value does that around-the-world jaunt from New England to Tokyo and back actually impart to your wasabi-laden sushi roll? Nothing more than the stamp of approval of a certified Japanese tuna buyer — one worth a substantial amount of money in this global fish market.

Of course, this may not be so strange a concept if you remember all the “American” brand-name products that are manufactured in far-off lands, with no real U.S. connection except for, at best, a corporate headquarters still rooted (thanks to generous tax breaks) in some random city. Even the label “Made in America” can sometimes mean parts produced in Mexico and China were merely clamped and welded together in a domestic factory.

In the interconnected world of today, rich countries like America and Japan may not build or produce anything in their own factories anymore, but they sure know good value — enough to charge a hefty premium for it.

Victor Tan Chen Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen