June 3, 2025
Recently, there was a celebration for the 77th birthday (Kiju) of my former mentor, Professor Emeritus T. At the event, a senior colleague in his 60s, who gave a congratulatory speech, presented Professor T's achievements. He had compiled this presentation by feeding various materials—such as Professor T's numerous writings, interview articles, lecture videos, and minutes from council meetings—into the latest version of ChatGPT and conversing with it. The story of Professor T's life, as compiled by ChatGPT, was a massive work of 20,000 characters divided into six sections: #From Birth to the Present, #The Origins of His Research and Ideological Formation at Keio University, #Contributions to the Establishment of the Long-Term Care Insurance System and the Maturation of His Philosophy, #Pioneering the Community-based Integrated Care System and His Central Role in Its System Design, #Professor T's Philosophy and Values as Deciphered from His Communications, and #Vision and Expectations for the Next Generation. Of course, this was likely after a final fact-check by my senior colleague, but the content was remarkably accurate, and I was once again impressed by the evolution of ChatGPT.
With the emergence of generative AI, including ChatGPT, the way we work and the content of our education are undergoing a period of transformation. Even I myself have benefited from using generative AI to create and summarize meeting minutes and reports. Tasks that once required memorization, such as writing programming code, can now be accomplished by generative AI with the right instructions, without needing to learn the code oneself. According to an article in the *Harvard Business Review*, the average lifespan of a modern technology skill is five years, with some as short as two and a half. In information education, therefore, it seems that developing the conceptual ability to decide what to create and acquiring the information literacy to avoid being misled by misinformation within filter bubbles have become more important than simply learning to code.
"Constancy and change"—in university education, we must thoroughly discuss the unchanging, essential aspects while constantly pursuing the cutting edge in areas that are evolving. Fortunately, at Keio University, much of the former—the unchanging, essential part—can be found in the writings of figures like Yukichi Fukuzawa and Shinzo Koizumi. From the works of these great predecessors, we can gain various insights into what "learning" means at Keio University, why it is important to produce a diverse range of talented individuals, and the meaning of not only terms like "independence and self-respect" and "jiga sakuko" (self-cultivation through the study of the past), but also words we use casually every day, such as "freedom" and "courage."
Looking back at history, the spread of misinformation causing anxiety and hatred among people and leading to division in the world is nothing new. I believe it is crucial to understand the mechanisms and characteristics of today's information systems, especially the algorithms of platforms like social media and generative AI, and to learn about the risks of how unsuspecting people can be manipulated. On the other hand, the ability to view information from multiple perspectives, to examine it critically, and to persevere in one's own endeavors without being swayed by public opinion are competencies that, since the founding of Keio University, have transcended time and seem to have become even more important in university education.
My aforementioned mentor, who contributed to the establishment of Japan's long-term care insurance system and the community-based integrated care system, recalls that the liberal academic culture of Keio University and Yukichi Fukuzawa's spirit of independence and self-respect were at the foundation of these institutional reforms and designs. As a university faculty member myself, I hope to continue upholding a spirit that is unafraid of change while protecting what must be preserved.