[Feature: The Present Form of Regional Migration] Roundtable Discussion: Nurturing Regional Potential and Migrating in Your Own Way

Today, I would like to talk with everyone under the theme of "The Present Tense of Regional Migration." When we say migration, there may be a strong image of moving, but "living" is also a major theme. "Living" means residing in that land and conducting a livelihood (nariwai). I believe that people sometimes move in order to be true to themselves.

That being said, when it comes to conducting a livelihood and "living" somewhere, it is actually not that simple and is quite difficult. I believe there are many things that have come into view precisely because all of you have taken on challenges in the field. Today, we have gathered people who are involved in creating the future while undergoing trial and error right at the front lines.

Another part of this theme is the "present tense." I believe the essence is always in what is happening in the field, and the future is always happening somewhere right now. Today, I would like to hear about the essence we should be looking at now toward the future.

First, I would like everyone to introduce themselves and talk about their experiences and what they have seen regarding regional migration from a slightly bird's-eye view. Mr. Ominami, please start us off.

I was born in 1953 and just turned 68 last month. Young people who come to Kamiyama Town ask me things like, "Are you doing this at your age?" but I have been involved in community development in a relaxed way since I was young.

I was born and raised in Kamiyama, Tokushima Prefecture. Since my family business is construction, I made a living through public works. On the other hand, I always wondered if there was a way for a town to exist without relying on public works, and I have been doing this while harboring that self-contradiction. For the past few years, my work has been about 5%, and I feel like I am spending 95% of my time on the community development I want to do.

I lived in Silicon Valley for two years starting in 1977. At that time, the automobile industry was doing very well and it was said that Japan had the advantage, but during that period, the foundation for the current computer age was spreading. I think being exposed to that atmosphere where it felt like something was about to happen was significant for me.

It sounds like a premonition of the future.

And when I returned from there, while working in my family business in Kamiyama, I got involved in community development through the youth division of the Chamber of Commerce and Industry. I wanted to create a place where artists were always in the town, so I started an art program in 1999. Thus, artist migrants began to emerge in the town.

Then, not just artists, but diverse people such as creators started coming to the town. So, in order to introduce the series of art programs and such, I created a website called "in Kamiyama" in 2008 with a subsidy from the Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications.

Kamiyama was not originally a place with many jobs. Since NPO Green Valley operates privately, we cannot create jobs using a budget. However, when we started a program called "Work in Residence" to have people with jobs migrate here, small entrepreneurs began to gather.

Eventually, people like Chikahiro Terada (Keio University alumni) of Sansan started visiting the town from September 2010. Thinking it looked interesting, they decided to set up an office in this town, and the movement to establish satellite offices began, making it a place where designers, creators, and entrepreneurs come and go.

In the midst of this, while discussing how to build the town's future, the Kamiyama Town Regional Revitalization Comprehensive Strategy was compiled, based on the idea that it is essential to remain a "town where possibility is felt." Furthermore, since June 2019, voluntary entrepreneurs led by President Terada have been working hard to prepare for the creation of a next-generation Kosen (College of Technology).

I would like to hear more about the Kosen story later.

Yes. Kamiyama has set "Creative Depopulation" as the theme of its migration policy. Since Japan's total population has been decreasing since 2008, it would be impossible to stop population decline in a place like Kamiyama where the population has been flowing out for a long time. If that is the case, the idea is to change the content of the population rather than chasing numbers.

That has gradually shown results, and in 2019 and 2020 consecutively, the population of Kamiyama Town saw a social increase (net migration gain). The population is still decreasing overall, but achieving a social increase means that, as a result, the ratio of young people is rising.

By using Kamiyama as a field where new things happen one after another, people feel the possibility that they might be able to achieve their goals in this place, and more people gather. By repeating this, I hope to show that population is not just about numbers, which I believe will lead to possibilities in various other places. I continue my activities every day with this in mind.

I imagine there must have been many twists and turns. Next, Ms. Otsu, please.

I am the exact opposite of Mr. Ominami; I came to a land with which I had no connection or ties, in the position of a bride.

It has been 19 years of ups and downs, but I came to a depopulated village as a bride, gave birth to four children, and am contributing to preventing the declining birthrate. Actually, my father, who is also a Keio University alumni, migrated here as well, and I can take pride in the fact that we increased the village population. Not just family, but 17 couples have migrated to Aso over the past 18 years relying on us. When those people get married and have children, it totals 35 people.

But that is not the goal; "protecting the rural landscape by continuing agriculture" is our life's work. So while it may look like we are doing many different things, the base is always agriculture. Together with my husband, who was a classmate at SFC, we practice organic farming with no or reduced pesticides in rice paddies passed down through generations, and we live as full-time farmers by delivering to people nationwide through direct sales.

For me, the trigger for migration was very simple: the person I fell in love with at first sight during my student days was from here (laughs). And since he said he would return to his hometown someday, I thought it would be better to go while young rather than when old, and because I wanted to raise children in a nature-rich environment, I came to my loved one's birthplace for that reason alone.

Agriculture is certainly not easy. However, I am glad I chose agriculture. With agriculture as a base, there are really so many things you can do, and I did them one after another as I thought of them. Urban-rural exchange, challenges with processed goods, international exchange, and so on. I made many mistakes. There were times when I struggled with the sense of stagnation in the region while trying to do something innovative.

The situation changed significantly when I participated in activities aiming for Globally Important Agricultural Heritage Systems (GIAHS) status. Working together with the governor and others to promote Aso, it was successfully designated.

My desire to "protect the value of Aso recognized by the world" grew even stronger, and I put effort into messaging themed around biodiversity, landscape conservation, and agriculture in a sustainable society. Media exposure increased, and when I became a bit of a "nail that sticks out," strange rumors were spread or people tried to pull me down, and I became slightly distrustful of people. However, when I immersed myself in farm work, I was saved by the healing power of agriculture.

After that, I switched my feelings and approach, and rather than throwing a stone into rural society as a whole, I started moving to do what I could on our own farm in the first year of Reiwa (2019). It was the year of our 20th wedding anniversary. While protecting the fields and forests known as Japan's original landscape—the so-called "Satoyama"—we have begun working toward 100% renewable energy and creating new value and significance for agriculture and rural villages.

Next, Mr. Nakamura, please.

I joined a company called Recruit as a new graduate in 2006 and have consistently worked on initiating organizational transformation within the company. I have been taking on challenges while creating organizations and jobs myself roughly every three or four years.

The trigger for my migration to Iki, Nagasaki, was about three years ago when I was looking for a new work theme. I visited Iki City, Nagasaki Prefecture, partly for work, just as it had received the SDGs Future City designation and was embarking on various demonstration experiments.

I was moved to find such a local government, and actually, my hobby is fishing. For fishing enthusiasts, Iki is like a sacred place, so I thought it would be great if I could live here (laughs). As we discussed the city's future and challenges, the city's population of 26,000 clicked with me. At the time, the number of employees in Recruit's domestic business, which I viewed as the target for organizational development centered on engagement, was also 26,000. This meant that if I thought of the citizens as one organization, I might be able to develop citizen engagement. That was the first time I connected migration and work in my mind.

After a preparation period, I launched a new organization to serve as the base for my work within the HR organization and went to Iki City, Nagasaki, as part of my job at Recruit. When I went to consult with Professor Tamamura, he told me about the "Local Revitalization Entrepreneur System," and utilizing that framework, I am working as a Recruit employee while also holding the title of an Iki City Hall official.

Furthermore, while paying taxes to Iki City, I wanted to give back my knowledge of organizational development to society, so I co-founded a company called Colere Inc. in Iki with a friend. Currently, about 20 people are involved there as side jobs or pro bono, but everyone participates fully remotely from five time zones around the world, and we run a consulting business in a mysterious way where most people have never met in person.

Additionally, I was invited to become a graduate student under Professor Tamamura, and I joined casually, but it's so busy that I'm having a hard time (laughs). In that way, I feel like I am currently wearing many hats with Iki City, Nagasaki, as the stage.

Thank you for waiting, Mr. Yamanaka, please.

After leaving SFC in 2008, I joined Mitsui Fudosan. I was a developer for a long time, involved in shopping center development and flying all over the country, but at one point, I started to think that Japan didn't need any more shopping centers.

That said, I wasn't interested in building shopping centers in Asia. So, I wanted to be involved in a business that could show the next image of society from Japan, a front-runner in global challenges, and I wanted to create the maximum value I could produce for society. While I was job hunting after leaving Mitsui Fudosan, through a connection with Professor Masaru Tomita, I was introduced to Spiber, a company in Tsuruoka that makes artificial spider silk.

When I first came to Shonai, Yamagata, without knowing anything, the air was so clean that I thought, "This is it" (laughs). I migrated on intuition without deeply understanding what Spiber did, but both Professor Tomita and Spiber's president, Kazuhide Sekiyama, were dedicated to creating world-class innovation from a regional area. I was inspired by their drive and felt that I too could challenge myself from zero in this place, which is how it started.

I was only at Spiber for two months before I suddenly ended up starting a company called Yamagata Design. Keio's IAB (Institute for Advanced Biosciences) is located in the middle of rice paddies in a place called "Tsuruoka Science Park." As administrative financial resources were shrinking, I started by developing undeveloped land that had been difficult to touch, through private-sector leadership.

Now, my company aims to create a future that excites the next generation by designing businesses that solve problems as a regional community development company. We have raised 3.4 billion yen in equity capital across the group, and with hybrid funding—half regional money and half from outside—we are working on eight businesses in four categories: tourism, education, human resources, and agriculture.

It was also featured on NHK national news, but most recently, we are promoting the development of an automatic weed suppression robot for rice paddies that I would definitely like Ms. Otsu to use, and in other agriculture-related businesses, we are working on production and human resource development.

Our most famous business is a hotel called "Suiden Terrasse," but I personally have no desire at all to become a hotelier; I have a strong desire to solve problems through business. While wanting to show up the commentators of my parents' generation who say Japan's future is dark, I am enjoying doing various businesses.

As mentioned in everyone's stories, I believe that in the regions, there isn't a "boring future," but rather many "signs of an exciting future." Also, challenges are things you can take on, and it's only by taking them on that you can do interesting things. Energy comes out of that, and you are there because of that enjoyment. If you don't experience that, you end up thinking the regions are some kind of difficult world. I felt once again that today's premise is a bit different.

Mr. Yamanaka's place also does childcare support, right? Since young people come and have children, I think the fact that you focused on child-rearing is very significant.

With the understanding of regional shareholders, we built a children's educational facility called "Kids Dome SORAI." It functions as a children's hall, after-school care, and a nursery school. For the after-school care, children come from 12 out of the 15 elementary schools in Tsuruoka City.

What I always think is that originally, the administration should spend money on the younger generation, but currently, administrative financial resources are rigid. Because they have to put money into immediate medical and welfare systems, the money going to the younger generation tends to be cut. When it comes to attractive community development for the younger generation, I think there are limits to administrative functions, so I wonder if we can channel money into education as a private-sector sub-system to substitute for that.

In addition to operating the children's hall, after-school care, and nursery school, we launched an electricity business called "SORAI Denki" and are doing a project where all the electricity contracts of regional companies are applied toward regional education. There is an inevitable tendency for urban areas with many children to have better educational environments, but even in the regions, I believe it is a very important issue for the private sector to be involved in enhancing the educational environment.

It's interesting that you're not just approaching the issues, but also setting up a mechanism to use the money earned there for further regional issues.

I think you are able to get a real sense that things might actually change in this way by setting up this mechanism within the regional issues and human relationships that have become visible precisely because you have lived there.

Actually, what surprised me most when I came here was that regional areas don't get along with each other (laughs). I wondered why they were so divided.

So, living in a regional city, I understood well that while there are good points to a community, there are also difficulties. That's why I think the environment makes it hard for the whole region to cause the kind of innovation that Mr. Ominami is doing, or what Ms. Otsu and Mr. Nakamura are doing.

Conversely, I think a reorganization of the community is necessary so that innovation can be born on the regional side. Whether the leadership for that is taken by the administration or a community-rooted NPO like the one Mr. Ominami runs, there are various ways, but I think just being able to do this would further advance the migration of young people.

I am currently also running a recruitment, U-turn, and I-turn site called "Shonai Zukan," and U-turners consult with adults of their parents' or teachers' generation. But the parents speak ill of the region (laughs). So there are quite a few young people who have a sense of distrust toward the region where they grew up.

Then when they return, I see them getting caught in the vortex of the community and becoming disappointed, which I think is very futile. Since the population is steadily decreasing, I think it's better to look more outward, forward, and toward the future.

I understand. In joint research with a certain local government, we found that parents influence whether children return. If parents feel that they don't see possibility in the region, it affects the children. It is important to be able to feel the possibility in the region's future, in a way that is different from the past.

When I think about what I have been doing in Kamiyama, it was probably a movement to slightly expand the rural or regional frameworks, because it is very difficult to eliminate them entirely.

What I mean is showing things that are normally impossible in the countryside. For example, even though there are three golf courses within a 15-minute drive, someone might specifically pack their bags, get on a plane, and go on a two-week golf trip to California in the US. At first, the local people said, "Are those guys fools?"

I think that is the rural framework. There is a framework for how people living in this region should be, not just for migrants but also for those originally born and raised on the land. I myself lived in California in my mid-20s, so I know the air feels great and refreshing. Human relationships are also very dry.

Turning back from that, returning to a community like Kamiyama in the middle of the rainy season feels very cramped. Since I, a local person, felt that way, I felt it must be even more so for people coming from elsewhere. That's why I started expanding that "rural framework."

I do things that people in the countryside would say you shouldn't do. At first, the local people perceive it as something foolish, but as it unfolds continuously, it stops being thought of as something so strange. By creating such a situation, the rural framework eventually expands.

When that happens, a space is created where people who were originally born and raised there can also stretch their arms and legs within the region. A margin (yohaku) is created. I think a countryside with such margins can have the best of both worlds: the somewhat close relationships unique to the countryside along with a certain degree of freedom.

As a result, I think that even for people who move in from the outside, it becomes a place where they feel, "This place is a bit different from the usual countryside; it has a high degree of freedom, and it's flat and open."

I completely agree with what you just said. Recently, a president of a regional company told me, "Since you guys came, my common sense has become completely paralyzed." So I think it's important to paralyze regional common sense in a good way, and I think what Mr. Ominami has been doing is exactly that kind of pioneering work.

The things Ms. Otsu has done naturally must have also been changing regional common sense. Common sense exists, so to speak, but it is possible to expand the framework.

Yes. What first surprised the people in the settlement was when the topic of installing streetlights came up, and I apparently said, "The darkness at night is the charm. If you put up streetlights, you won't be able to see the stars anymore." At that time, the people around me gave me a look like, "What?" It's a difference in values.

Also, when my third son stopped going to school. Since he was little, I've raised him to "think for yourself because the situation and society ahead will be something no one has experienced," but once he entered school, he was told to do this and do that, so I was prepared for him to stop going at any time. So when he said, "Mom, I don't want to go to school," I felt, "As I thought," and accepted it, saying, "It's fine not to go, but if you're at home, help with the farming." People around me who held the common sense that children should be made to go to school were quite taken aback.

Returning to the topic of migration, I think it's best not to be too braced for it. Honestly, whether in Japan or overseas, I think it's the same that the more local you go, the more conservative the atmosphere and ties are, but I think it's important to have the casualness of thinking, "If it doesn't feel right, I can just go somewhere else."

When I think about life security, I want to ask my friends living in luxury tower apartments, "Are you okay staying there?" Like, what will you do if something happens? In that sense, rather than changing the common sense of rural villages, perhaps it's time to overturn urban common sense—or rather, to think about where to live with an awareness of "living." I suggest that if you move to the countryside, your income might decrease, but a priceless life might be waiting. Of course, there is no single correct answer. But we are no longer in an era where a "good life" only exists in the city. There is also the option of dual-base living.

I see. Certainly, if you brace yourself, you end up thinking about many things, and in the end, common sense is something everyone has individually and is different for everyone. I heard that Mr. Nakamura is currently living in Iki while doing HR and organizational development work for Recruit headquarters, and is also active in the community development council as an associate member of the fisheries cooperative and a member of the region. I'm curious why you do those things so naturally.

Well, certainly, I don't think of myself as a very conventional person, but if I were to say why I am migrating and why that choice felt natural to me, it's because I am simply following the "way of being" that I seek, which I realized again around my ninth year as a working professional.

What is that? First is to be "free." Second is to always do "new things." Third is to "do it myself." I realized there is nothing else I want to value besides these three. Now I view those three as my instincts, and I judge what I do solely based on whether I can satisfy them or not.

While I have decided all my work based on that, migration was an option that arose naturally. When people ask, "Why did you migrate?" it's just a matter of simply following those instincts, and the place I flowed to happened to be Iki.

I can, of course, talk after the fact about why it was Iki or what kind of challenges I find value in there, but to be honest, I think it's just that I am living the way I want to live, so that was the common sense within me.

In that case, the fact that I "migrated" might appear unconventional to both the people of Iki and many company employees. I think there is also a perspective of from what position and how one evaluates migration.

Those are very frank thoughts. "Continuing to be yourself" and "being natural" is quite a difficult thing. However, by choosing that place and being there, "continuing to be true to yourself" and trying to "continue to be natural" without strain by influencing the surroundings rather than being selfish will, I believe, also expand the possibilities and frameworks of that region.

May I ask Mr. Ominami a question? I'm in my early 50s and feel like I'm already at the point where I want grandchildren (laughs), but in both regional and urban areas, old common sense is no longer applicable. The population is decreasing, and that trend is particularly intense in regional and rural areas, so there are situations where the common sense that everyone has followed until now cannot be passed on as it is.

Regarding that, as Mr. Nakamura just said, I feel that people of the younger generation have the value of "going naturally," but I think it's different for the older generation.

I think the value of having continued to protect this current landscape is very great, but on the other hand, in a situation where the old common sense no longer applies, what is the perception of people of Mr. Ominami's generation and even older generations?

I personally always operate on the philosophy that there is no need to force things to continue if they aren't sustainable. For example, there's often this sentiment that because participants in a village festival are decreasing and it's becoming unsustainable, we need people to carry the portable shrine, so we ask young people to please come.

The requests from the local side for young people to come are quite often along the lines of "we're short on labor, so please help out," which, if evaluated in terms of the abilities of those young people, is a significant undervaluation. Instead, I think it's better to say "help us" in a way that focuses on what these people are capable of doing.

As Mr. Nakamura said, I think "naturally" is the best way. What we can do is simply connect people who can look at the countryside with fresh eyes and, while showing them things as they are, have certain people gain awareness.

I believe the most important thing for humans is awareness. The difficulty with this awareness is that it's something that wells up from within the person, so it cannot be taught. Therefore, I think it's important to have as many people as possible see the situation of the town, and then have those who realize that "if I don't take action, this might disappear in the future" gather and expand that circle.

Saying things like "gather because we're short on shrine carriers" doesn't take root as motivation, so it absolutely won't last long. It's better to look at the region as a whole and capture it with the image of people gathering in a way like, "I feel like this town is lacking this specific thing, so maybe I'm the one who can fill that gap."

The way the government approaches the issue of migration has also changed quite a bit now. Previously, the idea was simply to increase the number of permanent residents—essentially wanting to acquire more local allocation tax, which is distributed according to population—so that various projects could be carried out.

Instead, as a result, people who blow through like the wind are also fulfilling various functions. In Kamiyama, starting with Artist-in-Residence, that has turned into work, creators, trainees, and now there are even startups. We even have a "Horse-in-Residence," a residence for horses (laughs).

A residence doesn't mean settling down permanently. For example, people live in Kamiyama for a trial period of about one to six months and try various things. Since migrants are born out of that process, I think the overall retention rate is high.

As a result, people from various genres gather in the town, creating a relational population, and I feel that this has become a driving force for residents to create the next changes together with those people.

That's good. If you only try to protect and maintain things, you stop doing anything new. There is the reality that you actually cannot keep protecting something unless various people continue to have "awareness."

As regional revitalization is equated with population issues, the number of people attracts attention. That is true, but when the number of people decreases, it becomes difficult to gain awareness. With fewer people, opportunities to do things together or for people to meet decrease. Without various people coming and providing influence, the region often loses its diversity and people stop feeling its potential.

Everyone I am speaking with today has in common that while living in a region, you also have a place of learning close at hand. Mr. Nakamura is currently studying at the SFC graduate school, and around Mr. Otsu, it seems Keio students are staying while taking remote classes, and Mr. Otsu himself is a senior researcher at the Keio Research Institute at SFC. Mr. Yamanaka is also creating a place for learning. Mr. Oonami is trying to establish a KOSEN (National Institute of Technology) in Kamiyama Town.

Yukichi Fukuzawa established Keio University in 1858. At a turning point in history, when considering what to do for the future, he created a place of learning. He also wrote "Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)," and his idea was that through learning, each person would expand what they can do and see, and create the future through independence and self-respect.

Now, while high schools are gradually disappearing in depopulated areas around the world, why is Kamiyama Town trying to establish a new KOSEN?

The catalyst was Mr. Terada, the president of Sansan and an SFC graduate, who set up a satellite office in Kamiyama in October 2010. I heard from Mr. Terada that he aimed to go public within 10 years, and after going public, he wanted to do two businesses: one related to energy and the other related to education.

At the time, I took it as the dream of a young entrepreneur, but at the end of 2015, when we had a meal together in Tokyo, he told me he had visited the International College of Technology in Kanazawa during the day, and at that moment, I realized he was serious.

As for why a KOSEN, many distinctive private integrated elementary and junior high schools or integrated junior and senior high schools are being born nationwide now. On the other hand, in Kamiyama, public elementary and junior high schools have only about 20 students per grade. From the local perspective, if such an integrated school were built in Kamiyama and even just two students per grade enrolled, that would be equivalent to 10% of the total, making it difficult for public education to be sustained. I thought this wouldn't gain the support of the townspeople. So, while exploring various options, I started to think a KOSEN would be good.

Eighty to ninety percent of children who graduate from junior high school in Kamiyama go on to general high schools in Tokushima City and leave the town. If that's the case, presenting the option of a new KOSEN there expands the career paths for Kamiyama's children, so it's easy to get the town's approval and support from the townspeople.

On the other hand, the KOSEN system was established about 60 years ago, and during the era of high economic growth, Japan developed with graduates taking on roles as factory managers and important positions in the manufacturing industry to strengthen it. However, as a result of that manufacturing industry moving factories to China and Southeast Asia, human resources in new IT industries and AI are thin. The many achievements and success stories that KOSENs have accumulated so far have conversely become a hindrance, and it is not easy to suddenly pivot in a new direction.

That's why I thought if a new KOSEN were created within a private framework—which in a sense has lighter footwork—it could have an impact on the Japanese education system itself. For five years, there are no entrance exams in between, and at the time of entry, there is no distinction between science and humanities. It's a KOSEN that's like an engineering university, an art university, and an MBA all rolled into one. It is scheduled to open in April 2023, and it's a small school of 200 students even if you gather 40 students per grade for all five grades.

From there, as an exit, they can go to university, some might start their own businesses, and others will find employment in companies. There has never been an example of a higher education institution being built in a small town with a population of about 5,000. By leading this project to success, I am convinced that great dreams and hope can be delivered not only to Japan but to small towns and villages in remote areas of the world, and I am continuing to fight for it now.

It's called "Kamiyama Marugoto KOSEN" (tentative), a school that views all of Kamiyama as a place for learning and operates with the idea of technology, design, and entrepreneurship training. Students will literally be "in-residence." I believe that having such a mechanism will actually lead to expanding various "awareness" and possibilities for the local people.

When trying to practice something in the field, I think it's important to do so while learning—expanding what you can see or looking objectively at what you are feeling. Mr. Nakamura, as someone studying in graduate school, what do you think?

I had a period of one year after moving before entering graduate school, and I think that was a time for me to output what I had cultivated within the company Recruit.

On the other hand, I've only been a graduate student for about two months, but through new learning, the way I see the place where I am is rapidly changing. For example, as I gain perspectives on how the relationships between the three elements that make up society—government, market, and community—have changed historically and what they will become in the future, the region I've been looking at for the past year looks like a different field for activity and a different field for challenge.

I was originally doing organizational development as a person from a private company within market principles, but currently, in addition to that, I live with four personas or positions: graduate student, civil servant, and a member of the local community.

The fusion of things that were previously separate is actually happening within me, and I believe that learning might bring about a paradigm shift in a new way of being and working as an individual, as well as the way a region should be and how to change it.

In this day and age, in graduate schools and such, you can gain a synergistic effect between learning at the university and continuing research and challenges while living on-site and having the actual feeling of the field right in front of you. At SFC, there is a framework called "Local Revitalization Researcher" where you are appointed by a partner local government to live there while studying at the Graduate School of Media and Governance.

Nowadays, the number of Recruit employees moving to rural areas or suburbs is probably increasing. From a company's perspective, how is the fact that employees are starting to live in rural areas viewed?

In the short term, it's a story where many new management issues arise, from labor to communication, so while they feel they can't stop it, I think they view it as a difficult situation.

However, looking at it long-term, in terms of how a company is evaluated by the labor market regarding why that company should exist, it won't be "for the sake of the country" as it has been, but rather that they exist for the sake of the local, or for the sake of the country as a collection of locals. I believe the meaning of the point of contact between individuals and the local will become larger for corporations and will become a point of contact that establishes their raison d'être.

There are signs of people living in rural areas while working for companies in large cities. I think this is not just because of COVID-19, but rather that it's becoming a time to rethink the nature of corporations in the first place. Mr. Yamanaka, what do you think?

When I think about why I moved to a rural area, started a business, and am working on town planning, it's because I'm happy doing it now.

The happy life I envision is the coexistence of the idea that life is for oneself and the idea of living for something else, and I think the ultimate form of being for oneself is being for something else. When you realize this paradox, life is very happy. I think the phrase "Learn selfishly, realize altruistically" from "Kamiyama Marugoto KOSEN" is wonderful as it captures this exact way of thinking.

In the SORAI education we are doing now, we say "The protagonist is yourself, the strategy is your mission," but we also add "The tactic is madness." This phrase conveys that it is important to be absorbed in something in life.

"Kids Dome SORAI" provides individualized education, and the hook for that is to have them thoroughly accumulate experiences of being absorbed. If you think "I'm the one to do this," you just convince yourself to do it no matter what. I believe this is very necessary for living a happy life.

So it's the importance of being able to get absorbed in something. In the end, the meaning of living might be the same, but it's about whether you can truly get absorbed in something. Conversely, I think there are many things that aren't interesting unless you are.

Thinking about diverse perspectives, I'd like to speak from the perspective of being a mother and the only woman among us.

I believe it will be extremely important for adults to continue learning in the future. Since we are facing a society that no one has experienced before, what we learned in university cannot possibly continue to be valid, so adults must also keep learning.

I have also become a senior researcher at the Keio Research Institute at SFC and am aiming to enter the Doctoral Programs next April. My goal is to write a doctoral dissertation by the age of 50. Both my husband and I have studied landscape, and we are practicing what we learned through land-use agriculture (rice fields and vegetable plots). Since we have been continuing biological and landscape surveys, I want to turn it into a thesis to mark 20 years of farming.

I believe that hints for a sustainable society ultimately exist only in the natural world. Of course, there are technological innovations and such, but I feel the hints for what choices are necessary in the future to protect the national land and our lives while coexisting with nature in the island nation of Japan, and how to reproduce and connect to the next generation, lie in the natural world.

Not limited to rural areas, adults must continue to learn to challenge what they can do, and as a mother, I want to be in a position where I can say to the children who see that, "Are you really going to leave such a good place?"

There are parts of home education that school education can never supplement, and it is the mother who bears a large part of home education. I hope for a society where mothers, based on a value system of "giving children the power to survive" rather than values influenced by deviation scores, can be in rural areas at least while the children are small.

I am raising my children in an ideal environment where "children are in nature while they are small," and I have the confidence to get by even if my income is half of what it was in the city, but there is also the reality that money is needed as children grow up.

Therefore, I want the fact that one "lived in a rural area" to become a career path. In other words, if you move to a rural area, spot the resources there, and continue a life of working with local people while being resourceful for 10 years, you should have gained considerable management ability and various ideas.

Wouldn't it be interesting if someone were headhunted for their experience of living in the countryside, and when the time comes that the children need money or options, they could return to the city as a whole family rather than just the father going on a solo assignment? I hope for a society where one can do business or learning that utilizes the hints found in rural areas.

That's exactly right. Looking at SFC students, those who have actively worked in the field in rural areas and properly engaged with local people are the real deal; even at the university, they influence those around them and naturally produce results. I believe we are in an era where having passion, taking things seriously, involving people, and nurturing rich experiences in local fields are evaluated even in AO entrance exams.

Thoroughly carrying out essential things has meaning. That's not limited to "because it's a rural area," but in a good region like Kamiyama, where various people influence each other and can increase people's awareness, the fact that a person has grown up in that environment is extremely valuable.

When it comes to government migration support, you almost always hear voices from the local side asking, "Why are only migrants given preferential treatment?" There is dissatisfaction regarding subsidies and such for which they themselves are not eligible.

For example, people of my generation in Kamiyama, around 70 years old, were told by their parents' generation that although depopulation was gradually progressing, a livelihood could be made if it was just the eldest son, so they should come back—and at least the eldest sons did come back.

However, human resources around 50 years old, about 15 years younger than me, are now scarce in rural areas. It was an era when the parents' generation, amidst high economic growth, felt there was no longer hope in the countryside even if they returned, and removed the U-turn option, telling them to graduate from a good university and find new possibilities in the city.

Currently, people in their 30s and 40s are entering the town in the form of migration or relational population. And they are digging up various possibilities in places where many people in the town thought there were none. Ultimately, I think these movements will spread to those born in the town, and people who have found new possibilities will U-turn back. However, in this large cycle, I feel that only the part where money and funds are concentratedly invested in migrants is being singled out, leading to the talk of favoring migrants while the locals have nothing.

On the other hand, people in their late 70s have emerged who have gained awareness, saying, "Kamiyama has changed recently, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it changes in the future. If there's anything I can do, please let me know." Having been active for nearly 30 years, these past four or five years are the first time I've seen such people.

After all, we shouldn't cling to the conventional idea that the countryside should be protected only by people from the countryside; people who are interested should also do it together. I think migration is one form of that. I feel that the direction of building a society that changes flexibly through the mutual approach of residents and migrants together is important.

I thought the greatest common denominator of today's talk was that migration isn't something you necessarily have to do, but rather something people do because they like it. I get many questions every day like "How is migration?" or "What kind of life is there over there?" but the more those questions pile up, the more the feeling grows in my heart that perhaps I simply migrated as a result of being honest about designing my own life or living my own life.

It's fine to do that while living in a city, but listening to everyone's stories, I felt it's good to have the sense that migration might be one of the catalysts for rethinking the importance of living the way you want to be.

When I was working in my previous job, the question of whether this was a life true to myself was always bothering me. At the time, my eldest daughter had been born, and the deciding factor for migrating was that I wanted to be able to tell my own life story to my child with pride.

To be able to say that, it's very important that I decide the value standards for happiness myself, and when I thought selfishly about wanting to live true to myself, I thought I would like to do exciting work while cherishing time with family and friends in the rich natural environment of a rural area. I now understand that rural areas have the potential to fulfill such selfish desires.

There are quite a few people wondering if it's okay to change their current life, but once you dive in, it often turns out to be no big deal. I think you should just decide selfishly how you want to be. I truly believe that if you move to a rural area, a new path will surely open up. I would be happy if our discussion leads to pushing such people forward.

Thank you all very much. Thanks to you, this has been a roundtable discussion rich in suggestions. When we talk about a depopulating society, it tends to be about the number of people, but things like "difficulty in feeling potential" and "decrease in awareness" are likely to occur. In that context, I think migration, where people live and have livelihoods in a region while holding their own standards, has meaning.

Yukichi Fukuzawa translated the word "society" as "jinkan kosai (society)." The essence of society is the connections and interactions between people.

We tend to think that the more local a society is, the thicker the human connections and the harder it is to move, but both local people and migrants can increase various awareness and possibilities by influencing each other within those thick connections. By living there, you naturally notice things, and your own potential becomes more and more visible. And then, you influence each other further. A society with such a virtuous cycle attracts even more people. I was reminded once again of the importance of a society where there is a chain of connections where people influence each other.

Thank you very much for today.