Interview with Tsuyoshi Sekihara
Co-author of Kuni: A Japanese Vision and Practice for Urban-Rural Reconnection
By Dirk Bischof, CEO and Founder, Hatch Enterprise, U.K.
Edited by Fumiko M., Liaison, ETIC.
During a cycling trip through Kyushu, Japan, I pedaled through picturesque landscapes and came across vacant houses and derelict structures. Amidst the incredible beauty of rural Japan, I couldn’t ignore the signs of rural decline, which led me to look into the challenges that rural areas in Japan face today. I learned how depopulation, aging communities, low birth rate, and brain drain are affecting these areas and it has been one of the top issues that the government has been grappling with. I ended up writing an article as I deep-dived into the topic. Here is the link.
In the course of this, a staff member at ETIC, the organization that I worked with during my sabbatical, lent me a book called Kuni: A Japanese Vision and Practice for Urban-Rural Reconnection, co-authored by Richard McCarthy and Tsuyoshi Sekihara. This led me to an opportunity to speak with Tsuyoshi on Zoom about his insights and thoughts on the future of rural and urban connections, a topic that is relevant not only in Japan but also with people and countries around the world who share a similar concern.
Dirk Bischof: I’m originally from a small town in East Germany. The population was about 20,000. When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, people left the town and we lost half of the residents. As of today, the town only has 10,000 people. I also left and I have been living in London for 20 years. However, I’m longing for small places again. I think your book spoke to me on many levels.
You are addressing a complex challenge of uniting and bringing together people in rural areas and cities through the RMO (Regional Management Organization) and creating a new community. We do something similar, as in our case, we serve as connectors between small and large organizations and help nurture community leadership. I can empathize with the challenge and the opportunities that your idea can offer.
Tsuyoshi Sekihara: As you probably read in the book, after finishing college, I went to art school in Tokyo for a short while and then co-founded an interior design company that specialized in commercial facilities. I lived in Tokyo for 18 years. Then I had a problem with my business partner. I was in despair and tried to kill myself. If I didn’t have that experience, I would probably still be in Tokyo today. I would have been a horrible person if I hadn’t experienced that excruciating failure in my life. There was a world that I could only see through failure. After that, I returned to Niigata prefecture, where I grew up. I didn’t move back to my hometown, but I went to Joestu, which is about 50 km away. For about 20 years, I worked in a woodwork cooperative and I also started a nonprofit, which served as a RMO to work with close to 30 hamlets scattered around the mountainous area in Joetsu.
But I’m going to be honest with you. I actually didn’t succeed in anything I did. The only thing that I succeeded in was to find out what needs to be done. I have the prescription for that. In the book, you can see that there are 12 roles of the RMO. In fact, it took 15 years for me to figure out those 12 roles. It probably looks simple, a no-brainer, but it took a long time.
In Japan, when it comes to regional revitalization, people tend to listen to what’s been said by scholars and academics. People don’t pay attention to insightful wisdom that comes from people working on the ground.It’s true that the government officials would like to listen to what academics say. This tendency hasn’t changed. But I still don’t like it. When I talk to these people, I definitely feel a gap. I’m not trying to criticize them at this point. There’s a saying in Japan that you sleep in the same bed, but you don’t dream the same.
Today, I want to reach out to young people. I think it’s important to plant seeds. What matters to me is to nurture young people who might be interested in involving themselves with something like kuni, or think that they want to create a kuni as a goal.
The skills that are needed to create a kuni are not easily attained. That’s why Richard McCarthy, the co-author of the book and I talk about Sisyphus. Undertaking this task is like being Sisyphus, having to push the boulder uphill forever.
It’s also crucial to understand who the ‘others’ are and then what it means to live with ‘others’ : co-exist with them. If you don’t have a good grasp of what these things mean fundamentally, it will be hard to carry on the task of building a kuni. Young people today might say they are going to work with ‘others.’ It’s not an easy task.
For example, the RMO has to be independent economically. If not, it would be subjugated by unwanted forces. It is important for regional areas to create a locally-based industry using local resources and create opportunities to generate revenue. It’s not about bringing something from outside; rather, it involves utilizing local resources. It’s like the concept of bricolage, as advocated by Claude Lévi-Strauss, to create something wonderful with existing resources.
Dirk: Can you talk about how to bring about a better understanding of myself and of the other? What made you increase the understanding of yourself and others to create a community?
Tsuyoshi: This is something that I have spoken at lectures that I’ve given at universities. Essentially, we are all alone. However, when we are born, we do not feel the loneliness because we are nourished and protected by being breastfed and wrapped in a blanket. As we grow older, we gradually become detached and separated from our parents, friends, and loved ones, sometimes through death. This cycle repeats throughout life.
These experiences of detachment from people and the resulting self-awareness I call “completion of solitude.” I am not expressing nihilism or pessimism. In these seminars, I ask young students if they truly understand the concept of solitude. I pose questions like, “Do you sometimes use people for your convenience just to alleviate your loneliness?” or “Do you view people as tools to prevent your own loneliness?” I call this immature solitude. This type of immature solitude consumes others, where people are used as tools rather than seen as fellow human beings: objects to fulfill personal needs.
I tell my students to embrace true solitude, although it is not easy to do so. By learning to truly be alone, one can perceive others not as tools but as complete individuals with their own solitude. Complete solitude leads to an understanding of ‘what it means to be with others.’ It generates a desire to be together, fostering a sense of unity. I would note that truly embodying this sense of complete solitude may be attainable by high-ranking monks, but for lay people, it may be something we recall from time to time rather than experiencing it throughout the year.
If one genuinely aims to create a community, it is crucial to be self-aware and seek genuine connections with others while holding onto the awareness of complete solitude. This lesson should remain in our minds constantly. Without this sense of awareness, attempts to build a community may result in superficial outcomes.
Dirk: I’m especially interested because you talked about your focus needing to be on young people. They would do anything trying not to be alone. They are addicted to their mobile phones, social media, it’s a drug. So we might understand solitude and being alone. However, for young people, could they practice place-polyamory or non-committal approaches to try things out? How can we bridge feelings of needing to be alone in young people to wanting to create a community that isn’t treating people like accessories or tools?
Tsuyoshi: I understand in Japan as well that there are a lot of young people addicted to social networks and such. There are so many people who think that they are connected to so many people. But that’s actually not a good form of communication. The types of interaction that take place in this sphere is not real and almost fake. It lacks authenticity.
When we examine communities where people can freely join and leave without any sense of responsibility, can we truly call them as communities? While they may fall under a broad definition of communities, I would consider them more like artificial or fake communities. In my opinion, a community is built upon authentic communication.
The types of communities that solely rely on visual and auditory cues can easily give rise to falsehoods and lies. They are based on superficial impressions and lack a fundamental depth of connection. To truly understand others requires more than just seeing them as being a cog in a machine-like system. To truly comprehend others, you must engage with them using all your five senses: being in a physical space with someone, where you can fully experience their presence.
In order for us to continue living and surviving in the same community, we must also act in accordance with the right principles. Otherwise, the community declines. The reason I emphasize this is because nature, harvests, drinking water, and the people — all these elements that we perceive with our five senses — come together to form a framework that enables our survival and continued existence. It is crucial to recognize the authenticity of the community and the importance of establishing rules and norms to sustain life on that land. If the community collectively adheres to these central principles, sharing the same understanding and embracing this notion, without getting caught up on other external influences, it becomes the most vital aspect for people living together in the community. Communities can have their own internal systems and boundaries that differentiate between insiders and outsiders.
That is why I emphasize the importance of a RMO because a community needs to be open to the outside, and the RMO can play that role. Unfortunately, as of today, I would say that 100% of communities in Japan do not fully possess this function and are heavily confined within their internal realm.
Let me explain words in Japanese: kyoudou (共同) and kyousei (共生). The former word signifies people with similar characteristics living together. The latter refers to people with different characteristics living together. This distinction is crucial. If kuni does not embrace kyousei, for example, repeat visitors from urban areas won’t be tolerated or accepted in the community.
There is depopulation occurring in rural areas not only in Japan but also in other parts of the world. They express a desire for people to come to these rural areas. However, if, for instance, they were to welcome 50 foreigners into a small rural village, they would not know how to handle the situation. This means that if they genuinely want people to come to their rural areas, they must establish internal arrangements to allow these individuals to enter. There should be a space where they can be themselves, but also guidelines they must adhere to. The RMO, therefore, can take a more proactive role in facilitating discussions to establish these rules on how to accept people from outside.
If they can establish the authenticity of being in the right and correct place, there is a chance that people from outside the community will not face discrimination based on their ideals or religion. Authenticity is the key word here — it defines the place. A young person who joins the RMO should take charge of these matters if they truly want to drive change. They must possess the determination and resilience of a Sisyphus, persistently pushing forward. These leaders may not belong to the village or the city; they exist in an intermediate space. It is not an easy role, but they must remain committed and take charge.
Kuni itself is not an attainable goal; it is an ongoing process. The point is to continue striving. It is essential to accept being the Sisyphus pushing the rock. There should be no expectations or a sense of entitlement for rewards based on efforts. This is the type of young person we need to nurture within the community. It is my dream to see someone like that emerge — one who holds strong convictions and refuses to give up on their dreams.
It is crucial to understand that when you embark on creating a community with the intention of making something beautiful, it can easily become distorted or stagnant. We should not give up easily or be quick to be disappointed. Persistence is key.
Dirk: Since the organization I’m working in now, ETIC, is working with rural entrepreneurs, this is one of the ways to do something for the local economy, and connect people from urban areas to a rural community. It could also result in connecting energy, skills, resources, capabilities under the umbrella of entrepreneurship. Do you think there is an opportunity to bring your idea of creating community more closely together with this idea of entrepreneurship, especially because you talked so much about self-sufficiency and being financially independent?
Tsuyoshi: Around 70% of the work of the RMO is entrepreneurial in nature. In terms of developing local resources, I have been involved in numerous initiatives through the nonprofit organization I launched. What often happens is that once we initiate a project and realize its potential as a profitable business, the nonprofit staff members would transform it into an incorporated entity. However, not all young people who initially aim to benefit the local community are skilled in business matters. This is a common challenge. This methodology of starting with the RMO and later transforming certain projects into for-profit entities is an effective approach. It is crucial to have people with experience who can effectively educate young individuals in these matters. They play a significant role in providing guidance and support.
Dirk: What about practical projects that offer people an opportunity to experiment and try things out? I’m particularly interested in the concept of place polyamory, where individuals can have experiential encounters without immediately committing fully. It seems important to provide activities and programs that allow people to test the waters, even to fail safely, rather than risking their livelihoods or finances.
Tsuyoshi: The first requirement is for the RMO itself to have a strong attachment to the kuni. This is the primary condition. By participating in RMO activities, individuals can gain a good understanding of the local culture and folk traditions. Without spending too much money, it’s possible to organize a tour for small groups that offer hands-on experiences in the local area. This can be a trial, combining elements of tourism and experiential learning.These days, more people are interested in exploring a self-sufficient lifestyle and are attracted to the idea of immersing themselves in the local scenery. The point is to avoid large group visits and have small groups visit on a regular basis, ensuring a more intimate and immersive experience.
For example, while craft beer is currently quite popular in Japan with new craft beer establishments emerging, I would not necessarily recommend it as an initial option due to the initial cost of investment to buy equipment. In line with Claude Levi-Strauss’ perspective, it is important to fully embrace what is in front of us and create something wonderful out of it. It is also crucial to charge a fair price for these experiences. And there will be people who show up and some of them may truly love the experience and become repeat visitors, returning often to the community. One of the key aspects of kuni is its comprehensiveness and holistic nature. It encompasses various components such as folklore and rice fields, creating a total experience.
For instance, I have witnessed individuals who loved their initial visit to the kuni and were invited back for the festival. They attended the festival and gradually became involved in the community. They became almost like the members of the community despite not permanently residing there. Becoming repeat visitors means they are more than just tourists.
Dirk: I’ve observed the importance of these repeat experiences because the community changes throughout the seasons. Each season offers a distinct and unique experience, which helps deepen the connection between people and the land. It goes beyond a simple summer holiday.
Tsuyoshi: Being invited to be part of a community is a more valuable experience than dining at a five-star restaurant. It holds greater significance, and communities can also charge a fair price for this meaningful engagement.
Dirk: I have a friend who runs an organization that produces commercial hemp seeds, hemp products like oils and butter among other things. It feels like a mini community, and I see their organization as an RMO because they organize various activities for visitors and volunteers, integrating their business into the community. I can envision many versions of kuni spreading and being established in different places, whether consciously or unconsciously. I have already recommended your book to my friend, and we can work together to promote the idea.
Tsuyoshi: Onwards, I believe the key is to truly listen to the voice of the land. We often suffer because of nature, but we also derive our sustenance from it, such as food and water. It is crucial to reevaluate the significance of the power of the land, nature’s ability to provide for us. When people stay confined to the city, they tend to lose touch with their inner selves and go crazy. One approach is to engage in conversations and explore the unknown. It can be fascinating to discover different versions of kuni and learn more about them. Grownups should ensure that younger children embrace and embody this sense of wonder. If our five senses become dull and worn out, we lose the ability to sense and experience wonder, despite the power of the land.
It’s worth noting that the land holds memories and history, which can be leveraged. Near the border of Germany in Czech, there was a village with a forgotten past. During the era of socialism, it served as a place for political prisoners. We were invited to this village to demonstrate the Kagura dance, a traditional dance performed on special occasions at the local shrine.
During this trip, we had a chance to take a walk in the forest and came across an old ruin probably from the days of the Christianity or even before that perIod. There were some simple symbols engraved on the rock. They looked animistic. People in the village said, “We really don’t know what these are all about. We just have this sense that this is something sacred.” These things are not written down but you can actually find these things with your senses. I think it’s important to be able to uncover these things or sense these things. That is the power of the land.
I still remember this moment when we all congregated in this sacred space: neither religion nor ideology mattered. We were just content that we existed in this place together.
