Notes from the President's Office No. 21: Universities and the Crisis in Japan—Revisited

2024/02/27

Kohei Itoh, President, Keio University

The January 2024 issue of "IDE—Modern Higher Education," the journal of the Institute for Democratic Education (IDE), featured a special section titled "Turning Crisis into Opportunity." I contributed an article titled "Universities and the Crisis in Japan—Revisited," which received a certain amount of feedback. With the permission of the IDE, I am reprinting the article below. Sections 1 and 2 are the original text published in IDE, and for this edition of Notes from the President's Office, I have added sections 3 and 4.

"Universities and the Crisis in Japan—Revisited"

1. The Tortoise and the Hare

In Aesop's fable "The Tortoise and the Hare," the hare is naturally faster but loses to the tortoise—who proceeds steadily and without rest—because the hare gets complacent and takes a nap. From this, we in Japan were taught, "Good things will come if you proceed diligently like the tortoise." However, it all depends on your perspective. A U.S. Disney animation also features the story of "The Tortoise and the Hare," and American children who watched it were reportedly taught, "If you are lazy like this hare, you will lose to a tortoise you should never have lost to." In the end, it seems that Americans see themselves as the hare, and the Japanese see themselves as the tortoise.

Taking my own field as an example, the transistor was invented in the United States in the late 1940s, and the scientific understanding and technological development needed to integrate and commercialize it were initially led by the U.S. They were truly the hare. However, from the late 1970s, Japan's electronics industry, through diligent ingenuity and effort, advanced semiconductor integrated circuits. By the late 1980s, Japan's share of semiconductor devices was by far the largest in the world, to the point that it developed into Japan-U.S. trade friction. It was the moment the tortoise took the lead. But the hare got angry. The Japanese were ridiculed for being good at improvement but poor at invention—in other words, lacking creativity and only imitating others. Taking this criticism seriously, Japan reflected on its ways. Thus, in the mid-1990s, after the collapse of the bubble economy, the Basic Plan for Science and Technology was launched to promote a seamless path from basic research to industrialization, and for about a decade, generous funding was poured into science. Around that time, a string of Nobel Prize wins for Japanese researchers began. This Nobel Prize rush confirmed that Japan's basic science was already at a very high level even before the Basic Plan for Science and Technology began, and from the perspective of Nobel Prizes, I believe this trend will continue for some time. This is because the Basic Plan for Science and Technology led to highly creative achievements among some Japanese scientists. However, by around 2010, impatience with the non-recovering Japanese economy surfaced, and self-criticism began that the vast results of basic research were not being linked to industrialization. For example, there was self-criticism that although fundamental inventions and discoveries in quantum computers were made by Japanese researchers in the late 1990s, it was Western companies that commercialized them. More recently, it is said that Japan's presence is declining even in the field of basic research.

Self-criticism is important, but we need to sort out what the problem is. If Japan as a whole genuinely aims to be a group of hares, it will need to build an education system and society that thoroughly implements a merit-based system, paying no mind to minor failures or breaches of etiquette. From elementary school, children with potential should be pushed to their limits, without concern for disparities. In companies, only those who excel will survive, the concept of lifetime employment will be eliminated, and underperforming employees will be dismissed. For the entire country to prosper through its hares, we would need to gather hares from all over the world and introduce the principle of competition. Hares seek to break away from the pack, so like-minded hares will cooperate to form a leading group. The nation's economy and academic societies would be powerfully driven by a few groups of hares, but disparities would widen further. The hares would pay enough taxes to enrich the national budget, which would then firmly support the lives of the common people. But would such a hare-like approach suit Japan?

I studied at a graduate school in the U.S. and, since taking a teaching position at a Japanese university in 1995, have watched Japan during its "lost 30 years" with an interest in the differences between the West and Asia. By around 2010, half of the members in my research lab, which specializes in semiconductor physics and quantum computers, were international students. Graduate students gathered from France, Germany, Sweden, Spain, the U.S., the U.K., South Korea, and elsewhere, and I thought we were finally on our way to creating a Western-style, hare-driven research lab. I expected a group that was merit-based, without a senior-junior hierarchy, and voracious enough to fight over experimental equipment, as I had experienced in the U.S. But that's not what happened. The international students who joined respected Japanese culture, were grateful for the careful guidance they received from their senior lab members, and did the same for their juniors. They also learned Japanese. However, presentations and discussions in the lab naturally became standardized in English, and lab retreats, arranged by the international students, began to tour various famous places in Japan that even the Japanese students didn't know. The international students were also highly efficient. They came to the lab early in the morning, worked hard, enjoyed lunch together, and went home before dinner. They loved to debate, naturally drawing in the students raised in Japan, while also enjoying the Japanese way of maintaining harmony by "reading the air." The level of the lab rose dramatically. When it came to writing papers in English, the skills of the international students were overwhelming. The students raised in Japan were amazed but also received help with their own writing. In short, like the Japanese national rugby team, we created a situation where the lab maintained its Japanese style while attracting talented people from around the world. In the end, Japan's style is that of the tortoise. The international students also came to appreciate the characteristics and strengths of Japan's tortoise society. Some chose to find employment in Japan after graduation, while others have gone on to succeed globally as a matter of course. In today's Japan, strong leadership and breakthrough power are superficially celebrated, but the true essence of "Japaneseness" lies in the tortoise-like aesthetic of Shohei Ohtani: thoroughly dedicating oneself to steady, innovative practice in the baseball he loves, and climbing the ladder step by step, only to find himself at a higher peak than anyone else. The reason so many Nobel Prizes come from Japan is not the result of fierce competition, but because Japan has provided an environment where researchers can immerse themselves in steady and creative research based on their own curiosity. Even in Japan, a country that values the spirit of "harmony is to be valued" and emphasizes a demerit-based system where not making mistakes is prioritized in education and business, as long as we create an environment where one can grow indefinitely as a tortoise, figures like Ohtani and Nobel laureates will emerge. However, under the banner of "global standards," the Western-style hare system has come to be celebrated in Japan. We directly import indicators originally intended for point-scoring groups of hares, such as governance, compliance, and rankings. While these bring many improvements, the earnest tortoises, who want to avoid any demerits, expend excessive effort on perfect adherence to governance and compliance. By being drawn into trends celebrated in the West, the progress of the tortoise-style research and business that our country prides itself on seems to be stalling. If we introduce global standards but fail to correctly adapt the system for tortoises, we will be forced to exhibit hare-like athletic ability in a tortoise's body, leading to a dead end where we are neither one nor the other. This, I believe, is the current crisis facing Japan.

2. A Proper Second Opening of the Country to Escape the Crisis

The Japanese national teams for baseball, softball, soccer, and rugby are all strong at the world level, for both men and women. In baseball, softball, and soccer, Japanese players who hone their skills in the world's top leagues form the core of the teams. In rugby, on the other hand, efforts are also made to invite top players from around the world to Japan, some of whom play for the national team. They are not a "group of hired guns," as they might have been called in the past; rather, players from overseas become part of the Japanese team, cherish the traditions of Japanese rugby, and even learn the Japanese language. As a result, the level of players raised in Japan has also risen dramatically. The famous line from Shakespeare's narrative poem "The Rape of Lucrece," also known as the spirit of rugby, "One for all, all for one," is perhaps the very essence of the Japanese tortoise style.

From this perspective, the crisis facing Japanese universities today is clear. Individual faculty members work hard to educate all students, but at the university level, there is no shared sense of purpose or goal as a single team. Or rather, the current situation is that as a team, we have not been able to set goals to lead society now and in the future, so they cannot be shared. The treasures of a university are its liberal spirit and democracy, such as freedom of expression, academic freedom, and the utmost respect for human rights. However, the goal that lies beyond must not be the selfish pursuit of individual comfort and happiness. It is crucial for each university to share the noble and uniquely academic altruistic goal of enriching humanity and bringing peace to society through learning, and to demonstrate its own creativity based on its founding spirit. This is the job and responsibility of the university's executive leadership. As the author of this article, I am keenly aware of this.

The media and others frequently discuss the numerous crises facing our nation's universities. The decline in research capabilities, the rigidity of educational content and its disconnect from societal demands, the lack of internationality, the low world university rankings, the decline in university management capabilities including financial situations—the list is unfortunately endless. However, as I have already stated, the real crisis for universities and Japanese society is that we are evaluating ourselves with metrics designed for hares. Japan's most immediate problem is the extreme shift in its population distribution toward older age groups, creating an imbalance with the working population. The proposed solution is to attract talented students from overseas and have even one of them settle here. But the argument goes that if our world university rankings are low, we won't be able to attract talented students from around the world. Is it truly wise to participate in rankings created by the West and compete for students who were originally aiming for the West? I believe what is most necessary is to leverage the diplomatic and business networks of Japanese people spread across the globe, have them recommend young people who are interested in Japan, accept them into Japanese universities, and nurture them alongside Japanese students. We may not attract international students who are outstanding from the start according to Japan's definition of basic academic skills, but by gathering as many sincere and hardworking tortoise-type international students as possible and having them learn steadily, can we not create a Japan like its national rugby team? This is not something universities can do alone. The government needs to make it a national policy for primary and secondary education to work together to attract tortoises from all over the world. If tortoises gather from around the world, the number of enthusiasts for Japanese culture and language will increase, and Japanese people's own understanding of their culture, their English proficiency, and their ability to handle diversity will all advance at once. It is also necessary to increase the number of Japanese students studying abroad, but with the current pace of aging and the likely advancement of policies centered on the elderly, will young people who have experienced the world want to return to and live in Japan? Emigration from Japan may seem like a pre-war trend of Japanese immigrants, but if things continue as they are, we cannot deny the possibility that the number of new first-generation Japanese emigrating overseas will increase. If immigration to Japan does not increase and the outflow from Japan does, the hollowing out of Japan will proceed. That is why Japan must vigorously pursue a second opening of the country, following the one in the Bakumatsu period, as a matter of policy. I believe that one way to turn this crisis into an opportunity is for the education and industrial sectors to evolve boldly as the receiving platforms for this change, and for our country to seek a new path to contribute to global development.

(End of the reprinted article from "IDE—Modern Higher Education")

3. What is a Suitable Learning Environment for a Tortoise?

I believe what a tortoise needs is an environment where i) they can thoroughly pursue their favorite subjects and hobbies, ii) they are respected by others for doing so, and iii) by teaching their special skills to their peers, not only their peers but they themselves can deepen their learning. Point i) is the environment for learning and challenge that leads to figures like Shohei Ohtani and Nobel laureates; it is an environment that nurtures individuality, as the saying goes, "what one likes, one will do well." Point ii) is the environment that becomes the origin of diversity. In a uniform learning environment that dictates, "If you're a boy, you should play sports!" individuality cannot flourish. We need to create a society where various individualities—being good at math, drawing, dancing, shogi, or enjoying volunteer activities, regardless of gender—are mutually respected and recognized. There is no superiority or inferiority among different subjects or hobbies. An environment where people get to know each other with curiosity is necessary, and for that, the environment of iii), where people teach each other, is crucial. This is where teamwork is fostered. It is precisely by honoring oneself in accordance with the spirit of `independence and self-respect` that one can, in turn, honor others. And, as the teaching "the independence of the individual leads to the independence of the nation" suggests, individual independence and connections lead to the independence of the group.

In short, when we restrict the progress of each subject by grade level, as we do now, the growth of a tortoise that should be steadily advancing is capped midway. For example, from the elementary school level, a student who loves math should be naturally encouraged to take on the curriculum of a higher grade, while also being given opportunities to teach math to their classmates. Using tablets and AI technology, it is possible to level up beyond grade boundaries, like clearing stages in a game, so that the steady growth of each student as a tortoise is not hindered. Returning to the example of Shohei Ohtani, he has consistently chosen environments where he could achieve his own steady development in the field of baseball. Conversely, such environments were available to him as options. And even at the professional level, the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters created an unconventional environment for him as a two-way player, both a pitcher and a batter. We should prepare such environments for various subjects and extracurricular activities.

On the other hand, it is also important to provide a learning environment that guarantees a minimum level of comprehensive ability. It is necessary to create an environment for comprehensively learning skills required of everyone: the ability to absorb (reading, listening), the ability to transmit (writing, speaking), the ability to analyze and plan (logic, arithmetic, IT tools), the ability to create (science, technology), and the ability to interact (discussion, collaboration). What is required of schools is to guarantee this minimum baseline while creating an environment where each tortoise can continue to advance in their respective areas of expertise. For knowledge-based subjects like Japanese, math, science, social studies, and English (language), individuals can proceed with their learning at their own level using tablets during class. Teachers can focus on ensuring the minimum baseline and fostering concentration, while students who progress quickly can spend time teaching others. In practical subjects and club activities such as composition, thesis writing, experiments, art, crafts, music, and sports, we should also introduce a system where leveling up earns respect from others and provides experience in teaching others. On top of that, practice is essential. Shohei Ohtani grew because he continuously experienced both success and failure through the practice of baseball. Why do we learn? It is to make society better. To develop it. Therefore, it is especially important for pupils and students to work together from an early age on activities that develop the world. This involves observing various situations, absorbing information, thinking, discussing, formulating improvement plans, and taking action. According to the results of the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) , conducted by the OECD to survey the mathematics, reading, and science literacy of 15-year-old students, as of 2022, Japan's 15-year-olds ranked first among OECD countries in mathematics and science, and second in reading after Ireland, receiving extremely high evaluations. On the other hand, according to the "46th 18-Year-Olds' Awareness Survey—Attitudes Towards Society and Country (6-Country Survey)" conducted by The Nippon Foundation in the same year, 2022, among Japan, the United States, the United Kingdom, China, South Korea, and India, the percentage of Japanese 18-year-olds answering "yes" to the following six questions was last by a depressingly large margin: "I think I am an adult," "I think I am a responsible member of society," "I think my actions can change the country or society," "I want to do something useful for my country or society," "I want to donate to charitable activities," and "I want to participate in volunteer activities." What does being last in these categories mean? To use a baseball analogy, it means that while we rank top in individual metrics like strength, speed, and technique, we have never played the game of baseball, or we are unable to apply those skills to the game. This makes one wonder what the purpose of learning is. If it is for university entrance exams, then we must increasingly rethink the nature of university admissions.

4. Conclusion—Is the Modernization of Non-Western Countries Possible?

Shinichi Kitaoka, former president of the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) and Professor Emeritus at the University of Tokyo and Rikkyo University, names Yukichi Fukuzawa as the person he respects most. In his book "Independence and Self-Respect: Fukuzawa Yukichi and the Meiji Restoration" (Chikuma Shobo), Dr. Kitaoka introduces that the question Fukuzawa pursued throughout his life was, "Is the modernization of non-Western countries possible?" and that Fukuzawa's life was a search for how to achieve it. Indeed, achieving a modernization of Japan that is true to Japan's character is the baton that has been passed down to us in the present day. In his book `Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)`, Yukichi Fukuzawa states that a person's worth is determined by whether they learn or not, and that fulfilling one's professional duties (job) through continuous learning leads to that person's status (respect and position). Status is not determined by the family or circumstances one is born into. Furthermore, in `An Outline of a Theory of Civilization`, he points out the problems of hierarchical relationships and power imbalances in Japan, such as those between seniors and juniors (the seniority system), men and women, newcomers and old-timers, and main and branch families. Such hierarchical relationships not based on ability lead to negligence on the part of those in the dominant position and prevent those in overall control from continuing to learn sincerely. In the first section, I shared the example of international students in my research lab. The reason a student who entered the lab earlier teaches a newcomer how to do research or use equipment is not because they are a senior in a seniority-based system, but because they are in a position to teach as a result of their prior learning and ability. The case of an international student helping a chronologically senior student with their English paper is also a good example of cooperation based on ability. There are no hierarchical relationships or power imbalances here; instead, a truly Japanese sense of harmony was born, where people on equal footing help others when they are able to.

The extension of this discussion, which has centered on education, should be clear. The same principles must be practiced in the Japanese workplace. It is desirable to eliminate discriminatory factors such as the seniority system, gender, nationality, and educational background, and to create an environment where everyone can continue to grow as a tortoise. At the same time, encouraging activities where those with ability help their colleagues, and having everyone appreciate and value such actions, will lead to the formation of an equal workplace that transcends various differences. This will result in the formation of a team where everyone respects each other and moves forward together. And what is important is that the story of "The Tortoise and the Hare" was ultimately about competition—about who would win. Shohei Ohtani also developed his skills with the sole desire to win at baseball. To join forces with our peers and, in a spirit of serious competition, achieve a new modernization for Japan as a non-Western country, we must not just chase after Western rules, compliance, and governance. We must build a social system that combines competition and cooperation based on our own values. By achieving this, Japan will become an attractive country for cooperative, tortoise-type talent, a country that not only attracts people from overseas but also one that Japanese people who have experienced the world will want to return to as their home country.