【Special Feature: New Year's Dialogue】 New Year's Dialogue: Post-COVID Society as Taught by History

Happy New Year. Thank you for joining us 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 the "Thunderbolt Old Man"—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. I believe the fact that a vaccine for the new coronavirus was developed so quickly, in just over a year since its emergence, can be summed up by the words "modern medical sciences are amazing."

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

In your book "The History of Infectious Diseases in Japan" (September 2020, Bunshun Shinsho) and elsewhere, you said from an early stage that this infectious disease would come in waves—a first, second, and third wave. Having gone through nearly two years and 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 take human experience as history and make judgments based on that. I was overwhelmed by this greatness and truly felt 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 from historical knowledge of what kind of course this infectious disease was likely to follow.

I was interviewed for the "Kohron" column of the Asahi Shimbun on March 6, 2020. 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. The past pattern was that viruses mutate and attack us in waves. Also, in the case of coronaviruses, I felt we should assume there is no strong, lifelong immunity like with measles, and 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 are things that cannot be said unless viewed from the long-term perspective that only historians maintain. 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 was actually the words of Yukichi Fukuzawa. It is the phrase "Scholars are the guardian goose (dogan) of the nation," written in 1874 in the third volume of "Minkan Zasshi." It is a famous phrase for those interested in Yukichi Fukuzawa.

That's right. Former President Atsushi Seike used it often.

I also like this phrase very much. When a flock of geese is in a field pecking at food, there is always one among them that keeps its head up, watching the surroundings to guard against sudden danger. This is called the "guardian goose." That one goose foregoes the feast in front of it and focuses solely on looking into the distance to stay alert. Such a single goose is important, and the role of a scholar is also like this.

Yukichi Fukuzawa likely wanted to say that there are cases where people of the world are preoccupied with immediate matters and fail to notice danger. He said scholars should tell stories that will be useful later, making people say, "I'm glad he 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 appreciate in hindsight, 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 those words 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, 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, as well as healthy young people, become infected. Professor Hayami spoke of 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 came 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 the Japanese archipelago."

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

It was a vast amount of labor, and the behind-the-scenes work was truly difficult. First, we would photograph the Shumon Ninbetsucho (religious registers), which were the equivalent of resident registers in the Edo period. We would decipher these registers 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 the data to create a database. Once that was done, we performed thorough data cleaning and analysis. We drew survival curves for Edo people 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 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 Edo people died, at what age they married, and at what age they went to work. You shouldn't act like you 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" in 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 here and there while looking at raw data was a pleasure.

Regarding this pandemic, you said bluntly on NHK BS's "The Choice of Heroes" that "From now on, the goal of the state must not be national security, but 'national security for the people' to protect the lives of the public." How did this way of thinking come about?

I came to think about national security for the people while looking at Keio University within history. 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 to create a nation-state and become 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 intense, the situation changed. In the 19th century, the defense line for protecting lives was drawn at the level of the state or the ethnic group. However, looking at the current situation in the mid-21st century, a defense line must also be firmly drawn at the level of the human being as an individual.

That defense line is now complex and multi-layered. There is traditional military security, but there is also health protection to prevent the intrusion of radiation and pathogens. I believe there is also economic and mental 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, of course, was the Western powers practicing gunboat diplomacy. The other was viruses and bacteria. In particular, there were two very troublesome opponents for humans, smallpox and cholera, and an outbreak of these could kill over 100,000 people at a time.

However, the Rangaku (Dutch studies) scholars who gathered at Tekijuku at the end of the Edo period solved both of these troublesome issues: the Western powers and the viruses/bacteria. Masujiro Omura created the army, increased Western-style military power, and built the foundation to face the great powers. On the other hand, Koan Ogata and Sensai Nagayo built the foundation to face viruses and bacteria.

Nagayo adopted the term "eisei" (hygiene/sanitation) and built the foundation for 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 Books), 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, and gradually came into conflict with the country's way of thinking. The "Shūshin Yōryō: Fukuzawa's Moral Code," announced a year before Yukichi Fukuzawa's death, was considered contrary to the "Imperial Rescript on Education," and Japan moved toward being for the sake of the country and the Emperor, rather than for the individual. Even though it established a status where "Western studies meant Keio University," it was always in the minority. Some at Keio University have argued that if the "Shūshin Yōryō: Fukuzawa's Moral Code" style of thinking had become the mainstream in Japan, the entry into World War II might not have happened.

I believe the point of Keio University aiming to be a leader of the whole of society is 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 to direct knowledge toward the world or toward the domestic sphere. While Kokugaku (National Learning) became extremely popular during the end of the Edo period and 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 was not denying Japan. It is a broad perspective of positioning Japan within the world.

The other is whether to place one's footing in the group symbolized by the state, or in the individual. In that era, collectivism was prevalent. Domains were tied to loyalty, individuals were tied to the domain or the state, and people were tied to the family system and family through "filial piety."

However, Yukichi Fukuzawa emphasized the individual's judgment based on the workings of the intellect, knowledge, and insight cultivated through scholarship. Without this, nothing can truly begin. The greatness of Yukichi Fukuzawa was that he made the individual the foundation and footing, believing that this is the basis for making the country and the home solid. I believe this thought is still valid even after 150 years.

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

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

And he wrote the main points clearly, cutting out waste. You also write clear, straightforward prose, Mr. Isoda. I feel that roundabout expressions do not connect at all to the aesthetics of public speaking that Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of. Since there are many people who speak indirectly nowadays.

It's about "speaking clearly," isn't it? A teacher of modern history once told me, "It seems that after Yukichi Fukuzawa wrote something, he would read it aloud to see if the housemaid could understand it," and the scales fell from my eyes. This story was in my head from the time I wrote my first work, "The Samurai's Household Account Book," and I aimed for rhythmic prose 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 good 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 the "Jiji Shimpo" and other media. The idea is to facilitate the flow of information from around the world and aim for an industrial nation. A transmission device called a newspaper gives the power to create things to every corner of the country, making humans solid from within their heads. 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 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 is the case, ideas such as 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 is a detour—by creating people with a solid, responsible sense of publicness while emphasizing newspapers and schools to enhance 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" was taken from British public schools. Public schools are not necessarily public in the sense of being state-run; they are private, yet they consider public development in a non-public-body form. Furthermore, they emphasize the individual through independence and self-respect and value the independence of the individual, which is the very basis of democracy that is currently under threat. Therefore, I believe one of our missions is how to develop democracy healthily now.

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. The reason is that the means of transmission 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 transmission would become multi-polar and decentralized. And because the general public would say anything, the discourse of major newspapers, broadcasting stations, and scholars would lose power.

What he said hits the mark quite well. Currently, everyone is transmitting a wide variety of information individually using smartphones and the like. Among that, there is a considerable amount of desire—things they wish were true—and things they want to believe, rather than whether it is true. If you don't check whether it is a fact, things will head in an unintended direction. Humans are trapped by various biases, and information that praises the group they belong to enters their ears easily, so if they don't check it, they will move forward with incorrect information. I think checking facts and returning to primary sources is important.

However, even with the way primary sources are viewed, opinions can differ even among excellent experts in the field. It is the "multi-faceted debate" (taji soron) that Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of; that kind of style is surely important.

Exactly. It is never the case that something is correct just because it is 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 was able to escape and was still alive. If that's the case, what's more important is the literacy of how to read information.

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

In a program where you covered the so-called populism of Fumimaro Konoe and Yosuke Matsuoka, you said, "The frenzy of populism always involves simplification; people jump on things that feel good, and they clearly divide into friend and foe, good and 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, I think 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 that compared to before, education that cultivates the ability to think deeply about meaning and essence will become necessary. The combination of science and "humanistic knowledge" is often called for. That is true, but our field, which is called humanistic knowledge, can also end up basically just reading characters if left alone.

There is an old saying, "A reader of the Analects who knows nothing of the Analects." In other words, the work of the humanities tends to become just teaching how to read 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 are becoming able to solve many things faster than humans.

In such an era, I think the question is what role humans should play. For example, when considering what kind of human resources a university like Keio University should develop, 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 will be solved by autonomous driving by AI, but the challenge of how to utilize Keio University to benefit Japanese society, as you are doing as President, is extremely abstract.

Even if you are told to manage a company and make the employees happy, is that through wages, welfare, or a sense of fulfillment? Meaning is important for these kinds of 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 right. You use the term "conceptual combination." Combining concepts means that just being polymathic is not enough; you need the power to enrich the imagination of concepts and combine them. After all, even with AI, as long as it is learning in the form of machine learning, it learns based on past experience within existing combinations, so it is difficult to go beyond that framework.

That must be difficult.

Therefore, everyone expects to see what humans can do from now on.

Yes. In Yukichi Fukuzawa's time, the purpose of education was easier to understand. That era was an era of educating for civilization. There is a word "culture" which is similar to civilization but completely different. 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, fire can be put out with a fire extinguisher. Civilization is universal. However, the way of putting out a fire in "culture" is specific. For example, you put a "shachihoko" (mythical carp) on the roof of a castle. People do this thinking it will be a fire prevention measure because the shachihoko calls for water, but in reality, the fire does not go out.

However, there certainly was (and is) a group on the Japanese archipelago that connects putting a shachihoko on the roof with "the fire going out" in their brains. This state of connecting mysterious meanings is exactly what "culture" is. From the perspective of other groups, it is a truly strange connection of meanings. But it cannot be scoffed at. This is what people find interesting. Tourists won't come if you put a fire extinguisher on the roof of a castle (laughs). However, if you say, "A shachi is placed on the roof of the castle in the sense of calling for water and putting out fire," 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 forced 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 become greater.

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

I see, that's interesting. I also like 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 has become 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 cannot be done with ordinary computers can now be done with quantum computers, and through that, incurable cancers may become curable.

This is a wonderful thing, but on the other hand, if genome editing makes it possible to freely create, for example, tall people, people with high noses, or good-looking people, then we at Keio University must also think about what is permissible and what is not, combining humanistic knowledge and comprehensive knowledge. You could say it is the turn of philosophy and ethics. Furthermore, on top of that, unless we create a world that values rich sensibilities, such as being able to enjoy saying "The shachihoko of Nagoya Castle is magnificent!", there is a possibility that culture will die instead.

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 state of achieving it serves and what kind of meaning it holds.

Including such things, it is the mission of Keio University to create leaders for the whole of society 10, 30, and 50 years from now. For the development of a peaceful and healthy society, I think there are many things we must be careful about, taking 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 large. In this mid-21st century, we humans have entered a place where it is no longer enough to just catch up with the West. Moreover, differences in systems and values are beginning to be exposed worldwide. In the past, we naively believed that there would be no economic development without Western ideas of democracy, liberalism, and respect for human rights, but now countries are appearing that achieve economic development and become major powers without necessarily having those. In a world with various differences on this Earth, we are in an era where we should discuss how we should live and present models and hypotheses.

I think Japanese society is not fully Western in every aspect, nor is it a society that connects solely to the ancient civilizations of the East. And I think it is a "guinea pig-like" society that was made to experience the clash and mixing of civilization and culture ahead of others. For example, we were the first to experience things like nationalism going too far and failing, industrialization proceeding too far and leading to environmental problems and pollution, and Westernization being pushed too far and leading to deep anxieties about one's own identity.

In an era where there are no clear answers, such a nation might serve as a model for some realistic response to the world. And I think Keio University has an academic tradition with very excellent aspects for persistently seeking "what a realistic response is," even if there are differences in systems and values. I believe that is the role of us Keio University alumni, and in a changing era, rather than responding to things that change, we can become subjects that change things while transmitting information.

The Enzetsukan (Public Speaking Hall) is exactly like that. I think it is an important place because it created subjects who, rather than being passive about the changing times, say, "If the world is changing, it's better to go this way."

The second verse of the "Keio Sanka" contains the lyrics, 'Where youths with spirit, strength, and passion / Burn with the blood of young men.' In modern terms, we should probably replace 'young men' with '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 who will build their own society. I feel that this is something that is currently being lost in Japan.

When things are peaceful and there is little dissatisfaction for the time being, we tend not to think about what lies ahead. The low voter turnout in the recent election is a reflection of that. However, some of today's youth have incredible abilities. When it comes to 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 believe that now is the time to return to the spirit of Ogata Koan's Tekijuku, which embodied "learning while teaching, teaching while learning." Nowadays, even with educational reform, the government tends to decide everything from the nature of entrance exams to university governance. However, a 20-year-old would naturally feel much more responsible if they were the ones thinking about it. For example, I would like to do things like the mock parliaments that Yukichi Fukuzawa and others held at the Enzetsukan (Public Speaking Hall) in the future.

The strength of the Bakumatsu and Meiji periods probably lay in the happy relationship between those seeking learning and those providing it. Those seeking learning had a thirst for knowledge. Even in the deepest mountains, there were young people who wanted to read and gain knowledge. On the other hand, those who came to be called teachers would kindly receive 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 of their own.

Natsume Soseki has an essay titled "My Individualism." It is a lecture Soseki gave to the children at Gakushuin, and at the end, he says, "If anyone hears my talk and feels there is something they don'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."

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

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

However, that environment is gradually breaking down. It has been decades since students stopped visiting their professors' homes. I wonder how many young people today are like those in the Meiji era, thinking, "I want to talk to that professor." And how many teachers are willing to respond? There was once a good era when, once you were called a teacher, it was considered your duty to do so, even if it was a loss or a hardship. 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 their 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 a system and environment 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 kind of society they want to live in—can find the kind of learning they need at Keio University, just as you, Mr. Isoda, studied under Mr. Hayami. That is my strongest desire right now.

Thinking back to my student days, I remember asking Professor Atsushi Seike, who taught labor economics in the Faculty of Business and Commerce, "I'm in the Faculty of Letters, but please let me take your course." I remember going to the side of the lectern after class to ask him 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. When I told him, "Actually, I took your class," 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 vividly remember hearing anecdotes about Yukichi Fukuzawa from Professor Tatsuro 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 the idea that history cannot be forced into a mold, but should be grasped as a reference and experience for humanity?

One thing I am thinking about regarding future history education is "history as a personal solution." Keio University has the concept of "independence and self-respect" for the individual, and each person has various goals. For example, if someone in the insurance industry thinks across time and space about what makes good insurance, that becomes history learning. Jomon people would bury the many acorns they gathered in the ground. Could that be the origin of insurance? This kind of perspective is fine. I call history "shoes." It is perfectly fine for history to be 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 the standard knowledge required of a citizen. 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 a slightly run-down place in a rustic hot spring town. But in terms of human nature, such places actually exist, and they make up a complex society.

Just as individual travel has become popular recently, I think history can be viewed in the same way. There is an NHK program called "Family History," and I think you can have a very different view of the world even if you start by looking at the history of your own family.

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

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

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

But many people still end up saying, "Do you like history?" "No, I hate it." In particular, modern and contemporary history in high school often ends up being unfinished in Japan. It might be because it is 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 to us, the more complex they become, making analysis difficult, but there is much to learn. However, as you say, it isn't really being done properly.

For example, now that so many materials can be viewed online, if high school history education shifted toward researching and stating opinions in reports, I think students would be able to have completely different perspectives.

I agree. That is 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 and Japanese textbooks write completely different things. Rather than which one is correct, knowing how people view things can sometimes be more valuable than pinning down the facts.

In that case, the broad capabilities of those in the position of teachers will truly be put to the test.

Yes. They will 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 of the teacher 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 my earth science teacher 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 reference books taught, identified which era and which leaf they were, made plaster molds, and created fossil replicas. That process was so interesting that I naturally came to understand, "Oh, this is the process used for investigation." I feel it is important to have such people in Keio's affiliated schools.

Why can that knowledge be obtained? Why was that one line in the textbook able to be written? A class where you understand that process is interesting. I think it is also important to see the scenery of the research frontline 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 enough to produce two of the same thing that can be found anywhere.

That's true. When I was at the University of California, Berkeley, I was doing research looking for "dark matter," elementary particles that have not yet been found. 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 type. Since these are theoretical virtual particles that no one has seen, the two factions were divided and in great conflict.

It was a raw world, different from the beautiful world of physicists that the general public imagines, but on the contrary, there was something interesting about its straightforwardness. Sometimes I feel I want to show students that kind of raw, "Waseda-Keio rivalry" style of competition in a good sense.

Actually, when I was a freshman in college, I read piles of books about 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, does that mean there is 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 virtual 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 try to 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. However, I feel that as we approach that world of Heaven, we must be careful that humans do not destroy themselves.

"God does not play dice." The era of classical mechanical determinism, like Newton's, which Einstein spoke of, was easy to understand. It was seen that if the initial conditions and constraint equations 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 you are researching, Professor Itoh, have appeared. Expectations are beginning to rise that a great deal can be predicted probabilistically, and in fact, various discoveries are being made.

Exactly. Our interest was whether we could master something like God playing dice, and the possibility of mastering it 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 that is a success. Therefore, the task of building a perfect quantum computer is a grand experiment to test our understanding of quantum mechanics. It is purely scientific curiosity.

Watching your various books and programs, Mr. Isoda, I thought that historical science is the process of looking back at the path that led to 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 about it that way, I suddenly felt that I, too, am a historian. For example, even in scientific research, we organize previous research by reading papers and listening to various people's stories before moving on to the next study, 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 become a physicist too (laughs).

Professor Itoh, you mentioned the "Gi" in Keio Gijuku earlier. In this case, the word "Gi" 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 force; it's not because someone ordered it, but a school created by people who felt a school was necessary and mustered the courage to build it is a "Gijuku." I believe this spontaneously arising force is important.

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

Engaging in lively and spirited debate with many opinions. Yet, everyone is trying to make the country and the world better. I believe it is an accumulation where, as a result, one improves oneself, then the family improves, and then the region improves. After everyone has done the foundation work, a good society is built through spirited debate. I believe we should create a place at Keio University where everyone joins forces to move in a good direction in that way.

The foundation work for an individual is learning. I believe there are two types of learning in Yukichi Fukuzawa's "independence and self-respect": 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 university with a high deviation score to find 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 be the acquisition of life skills while simultaneously holding one's own philosophy, values, and criteria for judgment. These are formed not by what is 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 having one's own worldview, way of looking at the world, and values while enjoying contact with 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 University is neither Keio Juku nor Keio Private School. It is a Gijuku. To be "independent and self-respecting" 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 be no gap between learning 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 while also serving as the rear guard within the larger society.

Thank you very much for your time today.