[Feature: New Year's Dialogue] New Year's Dialogue: Society After COVID-19 as Taught by History

Happy New Year. Thank you for joining me today. I have been looking forward to this conversation with you, Mr. Isoda.

The pleasure is mine. Thank you for having me.

Since March 2020, Keio University has been fully occupied with responding to the COVID-19 pandemic. Keio University Hospital has also struggled with the response. Amidst this, the "Keio Donner Project" (Donner meaning thunder in German)—named after the first Dean of the School of Medicine, Dr. Shibasaburo Kitasato, who was nicknamed "Thunderbolt Dad"—began COVID-19 research in April 2020 and has received high acclaim.

Furthermore, since June 2021, Keio University has conducted workplace vaccinations for 50,000 people at the Mita Campus. The fact that a vaccine for the new coronavirus was developed so quickly, in just over a year since its emergence, makes me feel that "modern medical sciences are amazing."

On the other hand, Tatsushi Fujiwara, a historian at Kyoto University, said as early as April 2020 to "prepare for a long-term war" (Asahi Shimbun, April 26, 2020). Even as medical sciences have advanced and knowledge and awareness of public health have progressed, I was shocked by his statement that "history teaches us that the battle against viruses will be a long-term one." Mr. Fujiwara's article was the first time I saw this in the newspaper, but I understand you had been making similar statements in newspapers even before that, Mr. Isoda.

In your book "The Japanese History of Infectious Diseases" (September 2020, Bunshun Shinsho) and elsewhere, you stated from an early stage that this infectious disease would come in waves—a first, second, and third wave. After nearly two years and having experienced up to a fifth wave, we finally understood, "Ah, so this is what it meant." For example, when choosing from a menu at a restaurant, we choose based on personal experience, but historians use human experience as history and make judgments based on that. I was overwhelmed by this power and realized that history serves as a guide.

First, as a historian, could you tell us how you position "history" in terms of living in the society of the future?

To be honest, I had hesitations about mentioning this pandemic. However, as a historian who has touched upon the history of past infectious diseases, I had an image based on historical knowledge of what kind of course this infectious disease was likely to take.

I was interviewed for the "Kohron" column of the Asahi Shimbun on March 6, 2020, and the article was published then. I believe the interview itself was in February. At that point, I sounded an alarm that this situation could last longer than the public expected. Past patterns showed that viruses mutate and attack us in waves. Furthermore, in the case of coronaviruses, I felt we should assume there is no lifelong strong immune persistence like with measles, so I decided to appeal that it was dangerous to easily adopt a herd immunity strategy.

Since a pandemic like this only happens once every 100 years, I felt there were things that couldn't be said without the long-term perspective that perhaps only historians possess. That is why Professor Fujiwara and I sounded the alarm that "this virus will run rampant longer than expected." I also messaged that it was necessary to temporarily endure restrictions on the freedom of movement.

What pushed me forward at that time were actually the words of Yukichi Fukuzawa. In the third volume of "Minkan Zasshi" written in 1874, he used the phrase, "Scholars are the guardian goose of the nation." This is a famous phrase for those interested in Yukichi Fukuzawa.

That's right. Former President Atsushi Seike used that phrase often.

I am also very fond of this phrase. When a flock of geese is in a field pecking at food, there is always one that keeps its head up, watching the surroundings to guard against sudden danger. This one is called the "guardian goose." That single bird foregoes the feast in front of it and focuses solely on looking far ahead to stay alert. Such a bird is vital, and the role of a scholar is the same.

Yukichi Fukuzawa likely wanted to say that there are times when the people of the world are preoccupied with immediate matters and fail to notice danger. He said scholars should speak of things that will be useful later, making people say, "I'm glad they said that." There is a saying that "a parent's lecture and cold sake take effect later." Encouraged by Yukichi Fukuzawa's jitsugaku (science) philosophy that scholars should issue early warnings that people will later be grateful for, I thought, "If I don't say it now, when will I?"

I see. Also, you have been visiting Professor Akira Hayami since your student days, haven't you?

I was not in the Faculty of Economics, but I followed Professor Akira Hayami since my student days as a private pupil. One of the last major works Professor Hayami tackled was research on the Spanish Flu ("The Spanish Influenza that Hit Japan," 2006, Fujiwara Shoten). Professor Hayami would say, "Isoda-kun, a pandemic will surely come." Even now, the intonation of his voice remains in my ears. He rented a room in a building next to the East Gate of Keio, gathered newspapers from that time, and devoted himself to researching the Spanish Influenza.

At that time, he often spoke about how viruses attack in waves. Moreover, he said the way they attack is that first, a low-virulence virus comes as a precursor. Eventually, it mutates, gains incredible infectivity and increased toxicity, and even people living in rural areas where there had been no previous outbreaks, or healthy young people, become infected. Professor Hayami would talk about such things even in casual conversation. But when that happens, the majority of the population gains immunity and antibodies, and the pandemic moves toward an end.

Since this pandemic arrived right after Professor Hayami passed away in December 2019, I felt even more compelled, along with Yukichi Fukuzawa's words, to speak out, even if it might seem presumptuous.

In the Mita-hyoron (official monthly journal published by Keio University Press) roundtable discussion 12 years ago (February 2010 issue) when Professor Hayami received the Order of Culture, which you attended, you mentioned, "Thinking calmly, influenza is something that has the potential to kill people in the hundreds of thousands on this Japanese archipelago."

Professor Hayami's work was like a giant laboratory where numerical values were entered and a massive number of people were mobilized.

It was an enormous amount of labor, and the behind-the-scenes work was truly difficult. First, we would photograph the Shumon Ninbetsucho (religious registers), which served as the resident ledgers of the Edo period. We would decipher these ledgers and convert information such as the age of death or when someone went into service into electronic data. We deciphered old documents, filled out information sheets, and entered that data to create a database. Once that was done, we performed thorough data cleaning and analysis. We drew survival curves for people of the Edo period and calculated average life expectancy and infant mortality rates. We also produced marriage ages by gender and social class. It was the kind of research where, after aggregating tens or hundreds of thousands of numbers, you finally obtained a single necessary numerical table. It was born from truly painstaking, gritty work.

That is something you cannot do unless you find significance in the results.

Yes, you can't. When looking at Edo society, I emphasized basic data such as at what age people died, at what age they married, and at what age they went to work. One should not act as if they understand a society without basic data. Therefore, I found significance in the foundational work of analyzing Edo society and wanted to be involved. That was the reason I could endure the "menial work" of the Hayami Lab.

But in that process, when you make small discoveries like "these people died at this age, and this many people lived this long," there must be a joy similar to what we engineers feel when we say, "I found the part I was looking for!"

That's right. Although rare, there were cases where twins were born, and you could see whether they grew up. Seeing such things occasionally while looking at raw data was a pleasure.

Regarding this pandemic, you stated clearly on the NHK BS program "The Choice of Heroes" that "from now on, the goal of the state must not be national security in the traditional sense, but 'national human security' to protect the lives of the people." How did this idea come about?

By looking at Keio University within history, I came to think about national human security. Yukichi Fukuzawa and others founded Keio University in the 19th century, an era when it was thought that the survival of the people on the Japanese archipelago would be difficult unless they modernized following the Western model, created a nation-state, and became a strong power. In short, it was an era where you couldn't survive unless you caught up with the West and made the country strong.

However, as we moved from the modern to the contemporary era and the flow of people and goods across national borders became more intense, the situation changed. In the 19th century, defense lines to protect life were drawn at the level of the state or the ethnic group. But looking at the current situation in the mid-21st century, defense lines also need to be firmly drawn at the level of the human being as an individual.

Those defense lines are now complex and multi-layered. There is traditional military security, but there is also health protection to prevent the intrusion of radiation or pathogens. I believe there is also economic and spiritual peace of mind. Without empathy for life as an individual, I think it will be difficult for humanity to live happily in this 21st century.

But looking back, you could say the era when Yukichi Fukuzawa founded Keio University was not so different. From the end of the Edo period to the Meiji era, Japanese people faced two risks. One was, of course, the Western powers practicing gunboat diplomacy. The other was viruses and bacteria. In particular, smallpox and cholera were two very troublesome adversaries for humans, and a single outbreak could kill over 100,000 people.

However, the Rangaku (Dutch studies) scholars who gathered at Tekijuku at the end of the Edo period ended up solving both of these troublesome issues—the Western powers and the viruses/bacteria. Masujiro Omura created the army, strengthened Western-style military power, and built the foundation to stand up to the great powers. Meanwhile, Koan Ogata and Sensai Nagayo built the foundation to stand up to viruses and bacteria.

Nagayo adopted the term "eisei" (hygiene/sanitation) and built the foundation for public health administration.

In that way, the Rangaku scholars gathered at Tekijuku were solving risks. In a slightly older era, Choei Takano was suppressed in the Bansha no Goku (Imprisonment of the Scholars of Barbarian Learning), but Shimpei Goto emerged from that lineage. The reason the scholarship of Rangaku and English studies scholars gained trust as jitsugaku (science) was because they solved these two risks. Therefore, they gained extremely strong trust and became involved in public affairs.

However, having said that, as time passed, the "Imperial Rescript on Education" of 1890 became a major turning point for Keio University. The Meiji government wanted to create a country centered on the Emperor. This was also likely for the purpose of fighting foreign enemies.

In contrast, Keio University's independence and self-respect valued the human rights of each individual and the dignity of the individual, which gradually came into conflict with the country's way of thinking. "Shūshin Yōryō: Fukuzawa's Moral Code," announced one year before Yukichi Fukuzawa's death, was seen as contrary to the "Imperial Rescript on Education," and Japan moved toward acting not for the individual, but for the country and the Emperor. Even though Keio University established a status as the place for Western studies, it was always in the minority. Some at Keio University have argued that if the thinking of "Shūshin Yōryō: Fukuzawa's Moral Code" had become the mainstream in Japan, the entry into World War II might not have happened.

The point of Keio University aiming to be a leader of the whole society is, I believe, a very important perspective now in the mid-21st century. I think there are two reasons why Yukichi Fukuzawa's thought does not grow old.

One is whether one directs knowledge toward the world or toward the domestic sphere. While Kokugaku (National Learning) became extremely popular from the end of the Edo period through the Meiji era, Yukichi Fukuzawa's eyes did not turn toward inward-looking Shinto or Kokugaku, but toward the outside. He obtained knowledge from the world and used the best of it. He wasn't necessarily rejecting Japan. It was a broad perspective of positioning Japan within the world.

The other point is whether one places their footing in the collective symbolized by the state, or in the individual. In that era, collectivism was prevalent. Through the concept of loyalty to the domain, individuals were tied to the domain or the state, and through the "filial piety" of being a good child, they were tied to the family system and the family.

However, Yukichi Fukuzawa emphasized the individual's judgment based on the workings of the intellect, knowledge, and insight cultivated through learning. Without this, nothing can truly begin. I believe Yukichi Fukuzawa's greatness lay in making the individual the foundation and the starting point, as the basis for strengthening the nation and the home. I believe this thought remains valid even 150 years later.

That's true. Yukichi Fukuzawa's words were based on the cutting-edge Western studies of the time, but when we read them now, people sometimes say, "Isn't that just common Western thinking?" However, it was revolutionary when viewed in the context of the situation Japan was in at that time. When no one else was looking at the world, he brought in various types of knowledge from the world. Moreover, he was a great patriot.

Therefore, how to convey the greatness of Yukichi Fukuzawa—who still lives in our hearts—to Keio students and how to aim for leadership of the whole society is a major challenge for us.

And he wrote concisely, cutting out waste and getting straight to the point. You also write very straightforwardly, Mr. Isoda. I feel that roundabout expressions do not connect at all to the aesthetics of public speaking that Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of. Nowadays, many people speak in a roundabout way.

It's about "speaking clearly," isn't it? A professor of modern history once told me, "Apparently, after Yukichi Fukuzawa wrote something, he would read it aloud to see if the housemaid could understand it," and that was a revelation to me. This story was in my mind from the time I wrote my first book, "The Samurai's Household Account Book," and I aimed for rhythmic writing that even a junior high school student could understand.

I think his obsession with clarity is symbolized by the fact that Yukichi Fukuzawa emphasized two great tools when introducing the model of Western modern civil society to Japan.

Those are schools and newspapers. First, you develop people in schools. Along with that, you quickly inject world knowledge into the people in the broadly spread-out regions through publications like the "Jiji Shinpo." The idea was to facilitate the flow of information from around the world and aim for an industrial nation. The transmission device of the newspaper gave people throughout the country the power to create things, strengthening them from within their minds. It takes time and effort, but this method is the royal road to social reform. The effects appear later.

Because Japan had a long era of the samurai, it is good at the method of dropping values, knowledge, and information from the top down. It tends to become an authoritarian, vertical society. This may be efficient in terms of the speed of modernization, but as long as that continues, ideas like responding to change or the pursuit of individual happiness are unlikely to emerge. I believe Fukuzawa's excellence lay in proposing a straightforward way of building a country and society—even if it was a detour—by creating people with a responsible sense of publicness while emphasizing newspapers and schools to increase industrial strength.

That's right. Regarding the naming of Keio University, "Keio" happened to be taken from the era name of the time, but "Gijuku" (public school) was taken from the British public schools. Public schools are not necessarily state-run; they are private, yet they consider public development in a non-governmental form. Furthermore, they emphasize the basic principles of democracy—which are currently under threat—such as independence and self-respect, focusing on each individual and the independence of the self. Therefore, I believe one of our missions is how to develop democracy healthily today.

You have said that for the healthy development of democracy, primary sources in historical research are important, and furthermore, fact-checking is important.

I think fact-checking is very important. This is because the means of communication are fundamentally different from when I was a student. When I was a student, Alvin Toffler, who wrote "The Third Wave," came to Mita to give a lecture. He said that from now on, information devices such as computers would develop, and the subjects of communication would become multi-polar and decentralized. And because the general public would be able to say anything, the discourse of major newspapers, broadcasting stations, and scholars would lose its power.

What he said has largely come true. Today, everyone sends out all sorts of information via smartphones and other devices. Among that information, there is a significant amount of what people wish were true—things they want to believe—rather than whether it is true. If we don't check whether it is a fact, things will head in the wrong direction. Humans are trapped by various biases, and information that praises the group they belong to enters their ears easily. If we don't check that, we will move forward with incorrect information. I believe checking facts and returning to primary sources is vital.

However, even regarding the interpretation of primary sources, opinions can differ even among excellent experts in the field. It's what Yukichi Fukuzawa called "Taji Soron" (multiplicity of opinions and vigorous debate); that kind of style is surely important.

Exactly. It's never the case that something is correct just because it's a primary source. For example, when the Honno-ji Incident occurred, the letters sent by Toyotomi Hideyoshi are primary sources, but he sent fake letters saying that Lord Nobunaga had escaped and was still alive. In that case, what is more important is the literacy of how to read information.

I believe training is necessary to be able to judge why this information is being released, for what purpose, and under what circumstances, and whether it is correct.

In a program where you discussed the so-called populism of Fumimaro Konoe and Yosuke Matsuoka, you said, "The enthusiasm of populism always involves simplification; people jump on things that feel good, and they clearly divide into friend or foe, good or evil, to attack the opponent. What is necessary to avoid falling into the trap of populism is fact-checking." Indeed, facts are something that only emerge after being verified by several people.

That's right. The world is truly complex, so if you want to understand a complex world as it is, you need a certain amount of information and facts. When you think you can understand something too simply and clearly, it's important to be a little suspicious.

In that case, in terms of creating a base for designing future society within an educational institution like a school, what kind of education should be provided?

I believe we need education that fosters the ability to think deeply about meaning and essence more than before. The integration of science and "humanistic knowledge" is often called for. That is true, but even our field, which is called humanistic knowledge, can end up basically just reading text if left alone.

There has long been a saying, "Knowing the Analects but not knowing the Analects." In other words, the work of the humanities tends to become just teaching how to read the characters. However, it is important to think deeply about the meaning and essence beyond the characters. This might be close to your field, Mr. Itoh, but as quantum computers and AI continue to develop, if the algorithm is set and the goal is set, computers can and already do solve many things faster than humans.

In such an era, I wonder what the role humans should play is. For example, when considering what kind of human resources a university like Keio University should cultivate, I think it might be thinking comprehensively about highly abstract issues. Low-abstraction issues, such as sending a person by car from Keio University to Mita Station, are problems that can be solved by AI-driven autonomous driving. But the challenge you face as President, such as how to utilize Keio University to benefit Japanese society, is extremely abstract.

Even if you are told to manage a company and make the employees happy, does that mean wages, welfare, or a sense of fulfillment? Meaning is important for these things. From now on, I think we have no choice but to aim to raise people who can think about such highly abstract issues and realize them.

That's true. You use the term "associative thinking." Associating ideas means that being merely well-informed is not enough; one needs the power to enrich the imagination of ideas and connect them. After all, even with AI, as long as it learns through machine learning, it learns based on past experiences within existing combinations, so it is difficult for it to exceed that framework.

That must be difficult.

Therefore, everyone looks forward to seeing what humans can do from here on.

Yes. In Yukichi Fukuzawa's time, the purpose of education was easier to understand. That was an era of educating for civilization. There is a word similar to civilization but completely different: culture. If you ask how civilization and culture differ, for example, if there is a task to "put out a fire," in "civilization," you put it out with a fire extinguisher. It is a convenience of civilization. In any society on Earth, a fire can be put out with a fire extinguisher. Civilization is universal. However, the "cultural" way of putting out a fire is specific. For example, you place a "shachihoko" (mythical carp) on the roof of a castle. People do this thinking that the shachihoko will call for water and serve as a fire prevention measure, but in reality, the fire does not go out.

However, there certainly was (and is) a group on the Japanese archipelago that connects the act of putting a shachihoko on the roof with "the fire going out" in their brains. This state of connecting mysterious meanings is "culture." To another group, it is a truly strange connection of meanings. But it cannot be dismissed. This is what people find interesting. Tourists won't come if you put a fire extinguisher on a castle roof (laughs). But if you say, "Shachihoko are placed on the castle roof to call for water and put out fires," people find it interesting and come from all over the world to see it. Homo sapiens are animals that find interest in culture made of far-fetched meanings. Humanistic knowledge deals with this "culture." In this century's economy, the proportion of consumption that pleases the brain will increase. The significance of humanistic knowledge that explores meaning and value will grow.

Why are there tourists today who pay tens of thousands of yen in travel expenses to see a shachihoko on a roof? We are in an era of not just civilization but culturalization. I think this breadth that humans possess—the nature of finding interest in coming into contact with various types of information by overcoming time and space across all ages and places—will be important.

I see, that's interesting. I also love quantum research, and while I was immersed in it as basic research, quantum computers became a reality with incredible momentum. The development of modern science based on this curiosity is unstoppable. Even in cancer treatment, it is becoming possible to take the genomic information of an individual patient's cancer and decide that this drug is the one for this genomic information. Calculations that ordinary computers cannot do will become possible with quantum computers, and through that, incurable cancers may be cured.

This is wonderful, but on the other hand, if genome editing makes it possible to freely create tall people, people with high noses, or good-looking people, we at Keio University will have to combine humanistic knowledge and comprehensive knowledge to think about what is acceptable and what is not. You could say it's the turn of philosophy and ethics. Furthermore, I think that unless we create a world that values rich sensibilities—where one can enjoy saying, "The shachihoko on Nagoya Castle is magnificent!"—culture might actually die out.

That's right. Once a goal is set, that mountain can be climbed, but we are reaching a point where we have to think about whose happiness the achievement of that goal serves and what kind of meaning it holds.

Including such matters, it is the mission of Keio University to create leaders for the whole society 10, 30, and 50 years from now. For the development of a peaceful and healthy society, I believe there are many things we must be careful about, using the past as a lesson. How do you think we should proceed?

I feel that the role of Japan, and by extension the role of Keio University, will continue to be significant. In this mid-21st century era, we have entered a stage where humanity can no longer simply rely on catching up with the West as we did in the past. Moreover, differences in systems and values are beginning to be exposed globally. In the past, we innocently believed that economic development was impossible without Western concepts such as democracy, liberalism, and respect for human rights, but now countries are appearing that achieve economic development and become major powers without necessarily following that path. I believe we have entered an era where we must discuss how we should live amidst various differences on this planet and present models and hypotheses.

I believe that Japanese society is neither fully Western in every aspect nor a society that is fully connected to ancient Eastern civilizations. Rather, I see it as a "guinea pig" society that was forced to experience the clash and blending of civilizations and cultures ahead of others. For example, we were among the first to experience failures from excessive nationalism, environmental issues and pollution from over-industrialization, and deep anxieties about identity caused by pushing Westernization too far.

I believe that precisely this kind of nation can serve as a model for realistic responses to the world in an era where there are no clear answers. And I think Keio University possesses an academic tradition that is exceptionally well-suited to persistently seeking out "what a realistic response is," even when there are differences in systems and values. I believe that is our role as Keio University alumni, and in a changing era, rather than just responding to things that change, we can become subjects who change the world while disseminating information.

The Enzetsukan (Public Speaking Hall) is exactly like that, isn't it? It is an important place because, rather than being passive about the changing times, it created subjects of change who could say, "If the world is changing, it's better to go this way."

The second verse of the "Keio Sanka" contains the lyrics, "Young men burning with the blood of spirit, strength, and passion." In a modern context, we should probably read "young men" as "young people" (laughs). We must create a place where the young people who will live in the society of the future feel that they are the ones building their own society. I feel that is what is currently being lost in Japan.

When things are peaceful for the time being and there is little dissatisfaction, we tend not to think about what lies ahead. The low voter turnout in the recent election also reflects this. However, some of today's youth possess incredible abilities. Even with AI, young people are far more capable. Their mastery of tools and sensitivity to information are superior. Furthermore, children who are called "sustainability natives" feel from the bottom of their hearts that global environmental protection and economic development are inseparable.

Therefore, I feel that now is the time to return to the spirit of Ogata Koan's Tekijuku, characterized by "learning while teaching, teaching while learning." Currently, even with educational reform, the government tends to decide everything from the nature of entrance exams to university governance, but originally, a 20-year-old would feel much more responsibility if they thought for themselves. For example, I want to do things like the mock parliaments that Yukichi Fukuzawa and others held at the Enzetsukan (Public Speaking Hall) in the future.

The power of the late Edo and Meiji periods probably came from a happy relationship between those seeking learning and those providing it. Those seeking learning had a thirst for knowledge. There were young people even in the deepest mountains who wanted to read and gain knowledge. On the other hand, those who came to be called teachers would respond kindly to the young people seeking learning, either for free or at a low price. At Tekijuku, Master Koan would take many young people into his home and look after them. Koan's wife was the most remarkable of all, even though they had many children.

There is an essay by Natsume Soseki titled "My Individualism." It is a lecture Soseki gave to the children at Gakushuin, and at the end, he says, "If anyone listened to my talk and felt there were parts they didn't quite understand, please come to my house." Reflecting on myself, I cannot say today, "If there is anything you don't understand after the lecture, please come to my house."

There is a Taiga drama about Shibusawa Eiichi airing now, and when Shibusawa was wandering around Kyoto as a masterless samurai, he went to see Saigo Takamori with nothing but a business card. Saigo entertained the then-nobody Shibusawa Eiichi many times with pork hot pot while they talked. He didn't do that just because it was Shibusawa; the busy Saigo made a point of carefully meeting young people from various provinces and domains one by one.

So, while face-to-face interaction is being hindered by COVID-19, whether it is in person or remote, a place where those seeking learning and those being sought can talk with truly serious gazes is important. As living beings, I feel that face-to-face meetings are the basis for solving anything.

However, that environment is gradually breaking down. It has been decades since students stopped visiting university professors' homes. How many young people are there today who, like in the Meiji era, think, "I want to talk to that professor"? And how many professors are there who would respond to that? There was once a good era when, once you were called a teacher, it was considered your duty to do that, even if it was a loss or difficult. Keio University is nothing other than the growth of a single seed sown by Yukichi Fukuzawa during an era when such teachers interacted carefully with young people.

The faculty at Keio University have a very strong sense of responsibility toward students, so there is a very high possibility that individual faculty members can connect Keio students horizontally while enhancing their own expertise. Therefore, creating such mechanisms and environments has become one of my major goals now.

In other words, I want to create an environment where Keio students who have the imagination to want to solve social issues and build the society they want to live in can find the kind of learning they need at Keio University, just as Mr. Isoda followed Mr. Hayami. That is my strongest desire right now.

Looking back, when I was a student, I remember telling Professor Atsushi Seike of labor economics in the Faculty of Business and Commerce, "I'm in the Faculty of Letters, but please let me take your course," and going to the side of the lectern after class to ask about things I didn't understand. Years later, after I became an associate professor at Ibaraki University, I saw Professor Seike on the Joban Line and told him, "Actually, I took your class," and he was very pleased.

I used to listen to the professors from the Faculty of Letters at the izakaya Tsurunoya in Mita. My supervisor was Professor Kazuo Tashiro, who took great care of me and, of course, took me to Tsurunoya. I also remember hearing anecdotes about Yukichi Fukuzawa from Professor Tatsuo Sakai, who was then the Director of the Fukuzawa Memorial Center for Modern Japanese Studies, at Tsurunoya.

I would like to ask about the style of history education that universities and affiliated schools should tackle from now on. How should we practice treating history not as something to be forced into a mold, but as a reference and experience for humanity?

One thing I am thinking about regarding future history education is "history as a solution for the individual." Keio University has the concept of the independence of the individual, but each person has various goals. For example, if someone in the insurance industry thinks across time and space about what good insurance is, that becomes history learning. Jomon people would bury the acorns they gathered in large quantities in the ground. Isn't that the origin of insurance? This kind of perspective is fine. I call history "shoes." It is fine to have history as a tool for an individual to walk through the world safely and interestingly.

Until now, Japan has learned the history in textbooks that is ingrained as necessary standard knowledge for citizens. This is "school trip style" history. Just like visiting famous historical sites on a school trip, it ends with learning about great politicians, warlords, and great works of art. You never stop at the slightly more informal places in a rustic hot spring town. But in terms of human nature, such places actually exist, and a complex society is built upon them.

Just as individual travel has become popular recently, I think we should view history in the same way. There is a program called "Family History" on NHK, and I think you can have a significantly different view of the world even by looking at history starting from the idea of looking at your own family's history.

I recently had surgery to remove a lump on my neck. When Tokugawa Ieyasu was at Hamamatsu Castle, he also had a growth on his back—probably a sebaceous cyst—and he was very hesitant to have it removed using Ming technology and medicine. When I referred to that during my own surgery to remove the lump, I felt history was close to me, realizing that even a warlord like Ieyasu was afraid of surgery, or wondering how they obtained foreign technology in that era.

So it serves as a reference when thinking about how to face things and how to conduct oneself.

Transcending time and space is important, and I believe it is vital for regional studies and historical research to liberate the spirits of people who are confined to narrow time and space, allowing them to encounter various ideas.

But still, many people just end up saying, "Do you like history?" "No, I hate it." Especially with modern and contemporary history in high school, the common pattern in Japan is that they never finish the curriculum. It might be because it's difficult for teachers to teach, but I think there is much to learn from modern and contemporary history.

That's true. The closer things are, the more complex they become, making analysis difficult, but there is much to learn. However, as you say, it isn't really done properly.

For example, now that various materials can be viewed online, if history at the high school level became an education where students research and state their own opinions in reports, I think they could have a completely different perspective.

I agree. That's why the perspective of preserving many materials and comparing them side-by-side is very important. Even textbooks are interesting if you read those from different countries side-by-side. For the same incident, Korean textbooks and Japanese textbooks write completely different things. Rather than which one is correct, knowing how people view things can sometimes be more valuable than pursuing the facts.

In that case, the ability of those in the position of teachers in a broad sense will be put to the test.

Yes. They become like midwives. The fact that the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates called his method of dialogue "maieutics" (midwifery) is a very helpful reference. Rather than teaching answers for memorization, the role may become like that of a midwife or a guide—showing how to approach the truth, how to compare, how diverse ideas exist in the world, and how overflowing information is transmitted.

When I was a student at Keio Senior High School, it happened that the teacher in charge of earth science was a graduate student at another university. He brought in fossils he had dug up himself and had us practice analyzing and classifying them.

That is excellent education.

We classified leaf fossils according to what the field guides taught, identified which era and which leaf they were, made plaster molds, and created fossil replicas. That process was interesting, and it naturally made us understand, "Oh, this is the process used for research." I feel it is important to have such people in Keio's affiliated schools.

Why can that knowledge be obtained? Why was that single line in the textbook able to be written? Classes that show that process are interesting. I think it is also important to see the scenery of the research site to some extent at an early stage, breaking the pre-established harmony to gain new knowledge. In this era of information production, it's no longer an age where producing two of the same thing found everywhere will suffice.

That's right. When I was at the University of California, Berkeley, I was doing research searching for an elementary particle that hasn't been found yet called "dark matter." The debate over what dark matter is was heated; Berkeley was pushing for one type of dark matter, while the University of Chicago was pushing for a different one. Since it's a theoretical hypothetical particle that no one knows, the two factions were divided and in a major conflict.

It was a raw world, different from the beautiful world of physicists that the general public imagines, but conversely, there was something interesting about its straightforwardness. Sometimes I want to show them that kind of raw, Waseda-Keio rivalry-like atmosphere in a good sense.

Actually, when I was a freshman in college, I read piles of books on the universe. I was shocked when I learned about dark matter. Even the human brain operates on neural potentials. We perceive and think through things like light and electrons. If something like dark matter occupies a significant portion of the mass of the universe, is there an unknowable darkness in the universe that we can never know? Thinking that made me feel intensely afraid at one point.

Is that so? Since dark matter is a hypothetical particle, it is physically exciting, and there is a tendency for the claims of the person who shows the most elegant derivation of a formula to be accepted. Einstein's E=mc2 is also beautiful, isn't it? People who make E=mc2 more complex are always crushed by loud boos. Everyone hopes that the world is made simply.

I believe that there is at least a world of God or a world of nature—what Yukichi Fukuzawa and others called the world of Heaven—but I think we must be careful not to let humanity destroy itself as we approach that world of Heaven.

"God does not play dice." The era of classical mechanical determinism of Newton and others, as Einstein said, was easy to understand. It was seen that if the initial conditions and constraints were known, the future solution could be deterministically predicted. However, in the era of quantum mechanics, we have come to understand that this world is probabilistic and uncertain. Now, the quantum computers that you, Mr. Ito, are researching have appeared. Expectations are beginning to rise that many things can be predicted probabilistically, and in fact, various discoveries are being made.

Exactly. Our interest was whether we could master things like God playing dice, and the possibility of mastering them has become high. But if, while we think we have mastered it, subtle malfunctions appear and we realize that our understanding of quantum mechanics was not complete, then we've hit the jackpot. Therefore, the task of creating a perfect quantum computer is a grand experiment to test our understanding of quantum mechanics. It is truly scientific curiosity.

Looking at Mr. Isoda's various books and programs, I thought that history is the study of looking back at the path we took to reach our current understanding and organizing it systematically, and our jitsugaku (science) is making judgments based on that history, which can be called experience. When I thought that way, it suddenly occurred to me that I am also a historian. For example, even in scientific research, we organize previous research while reading papers and listening to various people's stories before doing the next research, so in fact, everyone is a historian to a greater or lesser extent.

That's right. Everyone is a historian. In that case, I must also become a physicist (laughs).

Mr. Ito mentioned the "Gi" in Keio Gijuku (Keio University) earlier. The word "Gi" in this case refers to "public," and I think this is an exquisite translation. If you ask what "Gi" is, I interpret it as "the courage to do what must be done when there is something to be done."

This is a spontaneous power; it's not because someone ordered it, but a school created by people who mustered the courage because they thought a school was necessary is a "Gijuku," isn't it? I believe this spontaneously arising power is important.

I agree. To that end, each person must feel significance in their existence there. Even if told to "be independent," if we don't create an environment where people feel the significance of their own existence and are recognized by those around them, they will feel isolated. Education that makes one feel that significance of existence is important, and it doesn't matter at all if one person says something and another person gives a different opinion, as long as they respect each other.

Engaging in heated debate with a diversity of opinions. But everyone is trying to make the country and the world better. I believe it is an accumulation where, as a result, oneself improves, the family improves, and the community improves. After everyone has done the foundation work, heated debates lead to the creation of a good society. I believe we should create such a place at Keio University where everyone joins forces to move in a good direction.

The foundation work for an individual is academic learning. I believe there are two types of learning in the "independence of the individual" that Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of: the acquisition of life skills and the establishment of a self-philosophy. There is a way of learning where one seeks stability in life by obtaining qualifications or entering a high-ranking university to get a job. I call that "learning for the sake of getting by in the world." Until now, one could manage with just that. However, in the uncertain world of the mid-21st century, that is no longer enough.

The purpose of learning as an individual's foundation work must now include having one's own philosophy, values, and criteria for judgment, alongside the acquisition of life skills. These are formed not by things given by others, but by seeing and hearing various things across time and space. A favorite phrase of mine, advocated by the Chinese painter Dong Qichang and inherited by Tomioka Tessai, is "Read ten thousand volumes and travel ten thousand miles." I believe true learning is firmly holding one's own worldview, way of looking at the world, and values while enjoyably encountering various things and ideas.

When people engage in genuine learning and begin to act spontaneously so as to be useful to the world and make it a better place, that is "Gi." Keio Gijuku is neither Keio Juku nor Keio Private School. It is a Gijuku. To "be independent" means to know many things, to be able to judge for oneself, to have one's own yardstick within oneself, and to become a person who acts spontaneously to improve society. Yukichi Fukuzawa made the Juku that fosters such people a Gijuku.

I believe Keio University is the place that must do that. In that sense, there must not be a gap between academia and society. And regarding the "Gi" of public interest, even when we speak of leading, it's not about one person pulling everyone along; everyone is in that group, and in some cases, I think it is very important to serve as the "rear guard." I feel that true leadership is thinking of everyone so no one is left behind, and moving in the right direction within the larger society while also serving as the rear guard.

Thank you very much for your time today.