Notes from the President's Office

March 15, 2024

Professor Kohei Itoh
President, Keio University

The Crisis of Japan and the University: A Reconsideration.

1. The Tortoise and the Hare
In Aesop's fable, The Tortoise and the Hare, a race is held between two creatures. The hare is faster, but due to letting its guard down to take a nap, it loses the race to the tortoise who continued at a slow and steady pace the entire time. The moral of the story as it was told to us in Japan was that "good things come to those who persevere like the tortoise." However, everything is a matter of perspective. In Disney's animated adaptation of the Tortoise and the Hare, the lesson for American children watching was that "If you are lazy like the rabbit, you will lose even when your opponent, like the tortoise, seems destined to fail." In the end, it appears as though Americans see themselves as the rabbit, while Japanese people identify with the tortoise.

Taking my own specialty as an example, the transistor was invented in the United States in the late 1940s, meaning that the technological expertise, infrastructure, and equipment needed to integrate this invention and implement it, were all primarily in the United States. They were the rabbit. However, due to the tireless innovations and efforts made by those in Japan's electronics industry starting in the late 1970s, Japanese companies were able to make significant inroads in developing semiconductor integrated circuits. By the late 1980s, Japan's share of the global semiconductor market was the largest in the world, at least, until frictions began to emerge between Japan and the United States. This was the moment the tortoise came out on top, which made the rabbit furious. Japanese people at the time were criticized for being only "pale imitations" of real inventors, skilled in improving upon designs, but unable to invent anything new, or, in other words, lacking in creativity. Japanese people took these critiques to heart. It was then, in the mid-1990s, after the bubble burst, that Japan drafted the Science and Technology Basic Plan. This was to create a streamlined system covering everything from the early stages of research to industrialization, demonstrating a significant investment in science and technology that would continue throughout the next decade. Around this time, there was also an influx of Japanese Nobel laureates, supporting the idea that Japan had been incredibly strong in the sciences even before the Science and Technology Basic Plan had come into effect. Once the plan was implemented, there was a further rise in the creative output in the Japanese scientific community. Many thought that this trend, at least as concerns Nobel prizes, would continue into the foreseeable future. However, around the year 2010, critical voices began emerging from within, expressing their unease at Japan's stagnant economy as well as the lack of industrial applications for the discoveries being made in the scientific realm. One example of such criticism concerned quantum computers. While fundamental research related to the invention and development of quantum computers was conducted by Japanese researchers in the latter half of the 1990s, American and European companies were the ones to find a way to introduce the technology into industrial settings. To exacerbate this, Japan's influence on essential research in the field has fallen largely by the wayside in recent years.

While this type of self-criticism is important, it is also vital to take stock of what the actual problems lie behind this. If Japan as a whole truly wanted to be a coalition of "rabbits," it would need to thoroughly adapt its educational and social systems to focus on merit, regardless of petty mistakes or faux pas in etiquette. Students who demonstrate potential in elementary school would be the ones to invest in and foster, ignoring any inequalities that develop. Likewise, in companies, only the strong would survive. Japan would need to let go of its concept of "lifetime employment" and start firing employees who underperform. To become a country full of "rabbits," the country would need to introduce market competition, attracting ambitious people from around the world. Those who fit the rabbit archetype want to lead, so their matching interests would make them form cooperative groups that can help them "get ahead." While these groups would advance Japan's economy and academic sphere, they will also heighten existing disparities. The rabbits would pay plenty of taxes which, when collected, would enrich the national budget, and help support the lives of those beneath them. A question, though: does this "rabbit system" fit Japan?

I went to graduate school in the United States and then began my position teaching at a Japanese university in 1995. Over the last thirty years, or "Japan's lost decades," I have watched things develop while remaining interested and cognizant of differences that exist between the West and Asia. Around 2010, half of the students in my research lab, which specializes in semiconductor physics and quantum computing, were from foreign countries. With students hailing from France, Germany, Sweden, Spain, the United States, England, Korea, and other parts of the world, I thought that I would finally have the opportunity to make a Western-style "rabbitocracy." I assumed that it would be a system based purely on competency, absent of hierarchy between students' academic years, and a cutthroat competition for experimental equipment like what I experienced in the United States. On the contrary, the international students held a deep respect for Japanese culture and, because their upperclassmen had looked after them when they joined the lab, were quick to extend similar favors to incoming students. They also learned Japanese. Of course, everyone would use English for presentations and discussions, but the international students also organized a group trip to visit famous sites that not even most Japanese people would know about. The international students were also incredibly efficient. They would wake up early to work in the lab, enjoy lunch breaks with their peers, and then go home before dinner. They loved to debate and discuss ideas, roping in even the students who were raised in Japan. At the same time, these international students enjoyed the nuances of Japanese communication and "reading the room." There was an immediate jump in the lab's quality. The students who were from Japan were often amazed at the competency international students displayed in English composition and would ask for help when writing their own papers. In short, much like Japan's national rugby team, circumstances were created in which the "Japanese" style of the lab was preserved while simultaneously being a place where the best and brightest from around the world were able to come together. My conclusion is that Japan has a tortoise approach. Many international students are convinced of this "tortoise society" with its benefits and distinct characteristics. Some choose to stay and work in Japan after graduation while some, of course, leave for other parts of the world. Though many in Japan currently pay lip service to the value of being "leaders" and "cutting-edge," the true essence and beauty of Japan's tortoise culture is embodied in stories like those of baseball player Shohei Ohtani, a man who devoted himself utterly and consistently to the sport he loved, putting one foot in front of the other until, somewhere on his journey, he had reached new heights no one else could match. The reason so many Nobel Prize winners have been from Japan is not just the result of fierce competition, but because the research environments here allow scientists to follow their creative instincts, invest in their work, and innovate. Even though great value is placed on creating harmonious group dynamics, and education and business ventures focus heavily on avoiding mistakes as a part of Japan's de-merit system, as long as there is space for people to make progress like the tortoise, slow and steady, then more Nobel Prize laureates and people like Shohei Ohtani will emerge. However, in the name of matching "global standards," even people here in Japan have come to greatly admire the Western "rabbit" system. We are directly importing indicators and metrics based in this rabbit merit system, fixating on "governance," "compliance," and "rankings." While this can allow for improvements in many areas, when the tortoises, still resolved to avoid errors or any kind, put their utmost into trying to perfectly implement these governance and compliance standards, they can get knocked off course by whatever is trending in Europe and America. As a result, they lose sight of the progress we have already made in research and business using our tortoise systems. If we are unable to alter and improve upon global standards so that they can be used in conjunction with Japanese systems, we will end up at an impasse where we are trying to force a tortoise to run like a rabbit. This, I believe, is Japan's current crisis.

2. Avoiding Crisis through the "Second Opening of Japan"

Japan has met with incredible success on the world sports stage with its men's and women's teams in baseball, softball, soccer, and rugby. While for baseball, softball, and soccer, the teams are known for having diligent athletes who are originally from Japan competing at the highest levels around the world, the national rugby team has been investing in recruiting athletes from abroad to play for Japan. These are not the suketto of the past (lit. "helpers" in Japanese), but athletes who are fully incorporated as members of the team, appreciating the legacy of rugby in Japan, and actively working to learn the language. After hiring these international teammates, the skills of the Japan-based athletes quickly improved as well. In Shakespeare's poem, The Rape of Lucrece, there is a famous line that is also commonly used within the rugby community here in Japan. It is, "one for all, or all for one." This is the quintessential attitude behind Japan's tortoise culture.

When looking at things from this perspective, the crisis facing Japanese universities becomes clear. While individual faculty members work tirelessly for the sake of educating all students, "universities" as institutions are not "teams" either in terms of how they view themselves and their purpose, or in how they share their goals between their constituent parts. In fact, the universities have not been able to share these goals, because they have not even created goals in the first place. There is no united front in how a university plans to take the lead in our society now, and no plan how it might do so in the future. Freedom of expression, academic freedom, and the preeminence of human rights form the core spirit of liberalism and democracy, which are the crown jewels of the university. Any purposes beyond these should never be about personal gratification or egoism. It is vital that universities share altruistic goals that they are uniquely equipped to accomplish and use their academic prowess to lead the rest of society towards these noble objectives, each doing so while manifesting their unique ideas and creativity as rooted in their school's founding principles. Accomplishing this is the job and responsibility of a university's executive board. I, myself, as someone in this exact position, am keenly aware of this tension.

As covered extensively in the news, universities are facing a plethora of crises. They range from declining research capabilities, increased rigidity in educational content and estrangement from public interests, a lack of internationalism, stagnation in global university rankings, sluggish administrative systems and financial statuses, and, unfortunately, many other issues that I do not have the space to name here. However, as I argued before, trying to evaluate ourselves while using indicators designed for rabbit systems is, in and of itself, a crisis for our universities and Japanese society. One problem Japan has been dealing with recently is the shift in its population demographics. The scales are tipping, with fewer people entering the workforce and more and more people aging out. This is why people argue that we need to attract as many bright international minds as possible and have them immigrate here, but because Japan falls short in the global rankings, students will not come in the first place. However, is it really the best plan to try to siphon away students from the West by participating in ranking systems from Europe and the US? I personally think that we need to focus on utilizing the diplomatic and business networks that Japanese people have established around the world to recommend more young people with a latent interest in Japan to come here, study at Japanese universities, interact alongside Japanese students, and grow their talents. While Japan's definition of a core education may not be enough to attract brilliant international students at first, if we can bring over even one student who is "slow and steady" and can adapt to our tortoise approach during their studies, what is stopping Japan from becoming like its rugby team? This, though, cannot be accomplished by universities alone. Japan must make national policies that can integrate tortoises from around the world in primary and secondary education systems. By taking in international tortoises, we can increase the number of people who appreciate Japanese culture and language while also helping Japanese people understand their own cultural heritage, increase their English language skills, and accommodate diversity. While it is also necessary to increase the number of Japanese students studying abroad, under the current climate and with the progression of government policies that are focused on our elderly population, do we really think that these young people who go out to experience other parts of the world will want to come back to live here? While emigration from Japan to other parts of the world is may be reminiscent of the prewar period, it's impossible to deny the possibility that we may see a new wave of emigration abroad in the future. Should Japanese people leave Japan without people from abroad coming to live here, Japan will become a hollow shell of itself. This is precisely why Japan needs to make it national policy to create a second "Opening of Japan" like what was seen at the end of the Edo period. I think that one way to capitalize on our current crisis is to make bold changes to our educational and industrial systems, forging a new path for Japan's contributions to our world and its progress.

(The above is a reprint of an article as it appeared when published at the Institute for Development of Higher Education)

3. What Learning Environments Work for Tortoises?

I think that there are three factors to create environments in which tortoises can thrive: (1) a place where they can fully pursue their favorite subjects and interests, (2) a place where they are respected for their interests by their peers, (3) a place where they can deepen their understanding and grow in their specialties by teaching the people around them. This first environment enables learning and confronting challenges, leading to success stories like Shohei Ohtani and the Nobel Prize laureates; what one likes, one does well. The second environment forms the foundation of diversity. One-dimensional stereotypes about how people learn, such as assuming that boys should play sports, only stagnate individuality. A person's sex shouldn't matter. We need to make our society into a place where people respect each other for their distinct talents, whether it means that someone is good at math, drawing, dancing, shōgi, or volunteer work. There is no superiority or inferiority that can be inferred from differences in a person's area of study or their interests. We need to create spaces where people can share their curiosity with each other, tying back to the third category above: an environment where people teach and learn from each other, fostering teamwork. This is the true essence behind Keio's spirit of independence and self-respect: by respecting ourselves we respect those around us. In the words of Keio's founder, Yukichi Fukuzawa, "Independent individuals make an independent nation." The connections between those who are self-reliant are what allow us to build camaraderie and independence.

My point is that when people are confined to learn at a certain pace based on their academic year, as our current system does, even the tortoises who should be making steady progress will end up hitting a plateau. Let us consider an example of how we might address this issue starting in elementary school. If a student is gifted in math, then they should be given the opportunity to try their hand at curriculum from higher grade levels and try to teach their classmates about math as well. Through tablets and AI technology, we can treat academic years like video games. Once you clear the level, you can "level up," proceeding through the academic content at your own tortoise-steady pace without impediment. To return to my earlier example of Shohei Ohtani, within the world of baseball, he chose an environment where he would be able to gradually develop and hone his skills. Another way of looking at this is that he had the choice to pick from different environments that were available. Even when Shohei Ohtani reached the professional level, his team, the Hokkaidō Nippon-Ham Fighters, provided him the space to be a two-way player, meaning he was given the opportunity to both pitch and bat. We should expand this type of flexibility to other subjects and extracurricular activities.

While doing this, it will also be important to make sure that these environments still guarantee a basic level of education. Our learning spaces and systems must be equipped to teach comprehensive skills that are useful no matter who you are: comprehension (reading and listening skills), production (writing and speaking skills), analysis (logic, math, IT), creation (science and technology), and social interaction (debate and teamwork). We need our schools to be places where they can guarantee these basic skills while also treating students like individuals, each of whom will make progress in their specialized areas of interest at their unique tortoise pace. For school subjects like grammar, math, science, social studies, and foreign language, individual students could use tablets during classes so that they can work at their own pace. Teachers would make sure that everyone is understanding things at a basic level and foster an atmosphere conducive to productivity and concentration. Students who make quick progress could use any extra time to learn other things. This would also work for practical skills like composition, science experiments, art, music, sports, and other skills covered in extracurricular clubs. Whenever students "level up" they would earn the respect of their peers and be given the opportunity to teach others. The key to all of this is practice. Shohei Otani grew because he continued to experience both success and failure throughout his career in baseball. Why do we study? Because we want to make our communities into better places. We want to make progress. This means that we must provide students early on with opportunities to join forces and get involved in developing our world. They must have the opportunity to observe various scenarios, absorb, consider, debate, come up with improvement plans, and turn those plans into real actions. According to the results of the OECD's Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), a program that tests 15-year-old students in math, reading, and science literacy, Japanese students ranked incredibly well in 2022. They placed first among OECD countries for math and science and were second only to Ireland in reading skills. On the other hand, in that same year, according to the Nippon Foundation's 46th Awareness Survey of 18-Year-Olds, among Japan, the United States, the United Kingdom, China, South Korea, and India, Japanese 18-year-olds were the least likely to answer "yes" to the following six questions by a wide margin: "I feel like I am an adult," "I feel like a am a responsible member of society," "I feel like my actions can change this country or my community," "I want to do something useful for my country or community," "I want to donate to charity," "I want to do volunteer work." Why do Japanese students finish last here? To return to the baseball analogy, this is like having athletes who are top tier in strength, speed, and technique, but who have never actually played baseball or who have never had the opportunity to use their skills in a game of baseball. What's the point of studying at all in this scenario? If students study just to pass entrance exams, then we need to reexamine how these exams are run in the first place.

4. Conclusion: Is Modernization Possible for Non-Western Countries?

Dr. Shinichi Kitaoka, former president of the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) and professor emeritus at the University of Tokyo and Rikkyo University, cited Yukichi Fukuzawa, Keio's founder, as the person he most respects. In Dr. Kitaoka's book, Self-Respect and Independence of Mind, the question that Yukichi Fukuzawa pursued throughout his life was this: is it possible for non-Western countries to modernize? The book introduces how Fukuzawa's life was all about finding ways to make the answer be a resounding "yes." This question―whether Japan can find a way to modernize that fits its existing cultural reality―is a familiar one; one that has been passed down to us today. In Fukuzawa's An Encouragement of Learning, he argues that human value is determined based on whether a person chooses to learn and that continuing in one's studies to fulfill a duty (work) connects to a person's basic value, or dignity (respect and position in life). Dignity is not based on what family or circumstances a person is born into. Likewise, in Fukuzawa's An Outline of a Theory of Civilization, he addresses many of the issues endemic in Japan's power dynamics, whether based on seniority, gender, length of employment, or status within a family tree. Because these power dynamics are completely devoid of any real considerations of merit, it leads to negligence from those in positions of authority. The ones with the most control over everything are the ones without any motivation to learn. In my first section above, I discussed the international students who were in my laboratory, but I want to make clear that the reason why the upperclassmen introduced to new students how things were done and how to use the equipment was not because of abstract "seniority," but because they had already gained experience and results from their studies at the lab, putting them in a position where they were qualified to teach others. When the younger international students helped their upperclassmen write research papers in English, it was also based on skill rather than seniority. There was no subjugation happening based on power struggles. Everyone stood on an equal footing with each other, teaching when they saw others who needed help, taking the peaceful and harmonious approach to group dynamics characteristic of Japan.

While I have focused on education mainly up until this point, there are clear implications for other areas as well. We must implement similar changes into Japanese workplaces. Everyone will benefit if we are able to create environments in which individuals can grow at their own tortoise pace, eliminating any form of discrimination based on seniority, sex, nationality, or educational background. At the same time, we must encourage activities in which competent people help and teach in ways that are appreciated by their colleagues. This will lead to the formation of an equal workplace that can compensate for everyone's different strengths and weaknesses, resulting in a team that respects each other and makes progress together. Also, we must remember that the original story of the tortoise and the hare was one about winning a race. Shohei Ohtani also honed his skills based on his desire to win. If we want to work together as peers and enter this new stage of modernizing Japan as a non-Western country while remaining competitive, we need to create social systems that combine competition and cooperation based on our own values, rather than just blindly following Western regulations, compliance, and governance. By doing this, we will not only start attracting talented individuals from abroad who are cooperative tortoises at heart, but also make this country into a place where Japanese people who have left to gain experiences around the world will want to come home.