〒220-0011Education Theory
— Redesigning Learning to Cultivate Dignity and Pride —
Introduction
What Is Education? — Redefining It as a Place That Cultivates Human Dignity
What is education?
I have been reconsidering this question.
Education is, of course, the teaching of knowledge.
But that alone is not enough.
I believe education is an endeavor that cultivates the power to live as a human being.
In other words, it is a place that quietly shows us how to live.
When I completed my theory of the family, a clear axis began to run through my entire system of thought.
From Human-Centered Philosophy came my theory of the family.
From there, the ideas extended quietly into economics, politics, and education.
Within that flow, reconsidering the meaning of education became an unavoidable task.
The family is not merely an institution or a function.
It is a place where human sensitivity, integrity, respect, and dignity are cultivated.
Education, too, takes place within institutions.
But its essence lies in cultivating the humanity that exists beyond institutional structures.
Education is also a place where we teach what must not be done.
Do not hurt others.
Do not lie.
Such basic ethical principles form the foundation of social order and human relationships.
But that alone is not enough.
Education is a place that quietly shows people how to live.
The example of someone working with integrity.
The act of expressing gratitude.
An attitude of respect toward others.
Such examples remain in the hearts of children more deeply than words alone.
Education cultivates individuals who possess their own questions.
It protects their dignity while trusting them with the future.
To “entrust” does not mean abandonment.
It means believing that a person can think, choose, and act through his or her own strength.
Education is therefore a practice of dignity based on trust.
In this theory of education, I will reconsider, one by one:
differences in ways of learning,
the attitudes of those who teach,
history education and pride,
the limitations of institutions,
the education of the future,
and the beauty of human conduct.
Through these themes, I will explore a form of education that cultivates dignity and pride.
It is also a quiet redesign of the activities that support society from outside formal institutions.
Chapter 1
Different Ways of Learning — Toward a Structure That Does Not Create “Failures”
In education, the word “failure” or “underachiever” is often used to describe students who cannot keep up.
But I feel uncomfortable with such language.
Is it really the student who has failed?
Or is it the educational structure that has failed to recognize differences in the ways people learn?
I learned something important from Peter Drucker:
Different people learn in different ways.
Some understand by reading.
Others absorb information by listening.
Some learn by actually moving, doing, and experiencing.
Each of these can be a natural way of learning for that person.
Yet educational systems are often designed around the assumption that there is only one correct method of learning.
Read the textbook.
Copy what is written on the board.
Answer questions on a test.
Those who do not fit this method are treated as people who “cannot understand” or who “perform poorly.”
Eventually, they may be labeled as failures.
This is not necessarily a problem of individual ability.
It is a structural problem.
When education becomes overly dependent on uniform methods, some people are prevented from demonstrating the abilities they actually possess.
That also means education is failing to protect human dignity.
From the perspective of Human-Centered Philosophy, education is not simply about teaching.
It is about adapting ourselves to the way each individual learns.
We face an individual who possesses questions.
We trust that person to learn and grow through his or her own way of learning.
This, I believe, is education grounded in dignity.
Education that does not produce “failures” is education that respects the learning style of every individual.
It begins not with institutional efficiency, but with the way we look at human differences.
How, then, should education respond to different ways of learning?
The answer begins with the attitude of the person who teaches.
In the next chapter, I would like to consider how teachers and parents should approach children through their behavior, and the power of example and human attention.
Chapter 2
The Attitude of Those Who Teach — The Power of Example and the Human Gaze
Education cannot be created through institutions and teaching materials alone.
Even more important is the attitude of the person who teaches.
How teachers and parents behave toward children determines the quality of education.
Children grow by watching behavior more than by listening to words.
The sight of an adult working with integrity.
An attitude of gratitude.
A gaze that respects others.
Such everyday behavior quietly enters the heart of a child.
As I wrote in my theory of the family, the family is a place where children learn how to live.
That is also the starting point of education.
When parents treat children with dignity, children learn to value themselves and develop the ability to treat others with integrity.
The same is true in schools.
When teachers approach students with trust and respect, the first foundation for cultivating dignity is created.
Conversely, when management and evaluation dominate the educational environment, students may begin to see themselves merely as objects to be measured.
Education is not merely the transmission of information.
It is also the demonstration of a way of living.
When teachers and parents themselves possess questions and live with integrity, children may begin to think:
“I would like to live that way too.”
And when the person teaching notices,
“This child learns in this particular way,”
a form of support suited to that child begins to arise naturally.
This is also the first step in responding to differences in learning styles.
The essence of education lies not in institutions, but in humanity.
And that humanity is cultivated through the gaze and behavior of those who teach.
In the next chapter, I would like to reconsider history education, an area with particularly strong ideological influence, from the perspective of cultivating pride in one’s own country.
Chapter 3
History Education and Pride — Cultivating the Ability to Speak About One’s Own Country
Education includes the transmission of knowledge.
Among its various fields, history education has particularly strong ideological influence.
What history is taught?
From what perspective?
These choices greatly influence the way children come to see their own country.
After the Second World War and the Tokyo Trials, a historical perspective centered on “war responsibility” and a sense of Japan as an aggressor became deeply rooted in postwar Japanese education.
The Japan Teachers’ Union was formed, and there were periods in which some teachers provided education that could even be described as anti-Japanese.
Of course, prewar militaristic education also contained excessive elements.
But as a reaction against it, postwar education increasingly avoided speaking positively about pride in one’s own country.
This is a situation that would be difficult to imagine in many other countries.
In the United States, for example, the ideals of the nation’s founding and respect for the national flag are taught naturally.
In France, the history and ideals of the Revolution are spoken of with pride.
China and South Korea also present their own cultures and histories in affirmative terms.
By comparison, I feel that Japan has developed excessive hesitation about speaking positively about itself.
I believe Japan is a country of which its people can be proud.
Different countries have different principles underlying the design of history education.
The United States emphasizes a narrative of liberty.
France emphasizes the ideals of revolution.
China emphasizes continuity of the state.
Germany places responsibility for the past at the foundation of historical education.
Through such comparisons, the issues of a vacuum of questioning and the recovery of pride within Japanese education become clearer.
Diligence.
Integrity.
Courtesy.
Technological ability.
Harmony with nature.
Should education not also speak with pride about the history that has cultivated such values?
To look honestly at the path one’s country has taken, and to develop the ability to apply that understanding to the future—
I believe this is the essence of history education.
Education does not merely communicate facts.
It cultivates the ability to consider how we receive those facts and how we should live in response to them.
History education, too, should be an endeavor that cultivates both pride and questions.
A person who can take healthy pride in his or her own country can also approach the cultures and histories of other countries with respect.
This is not exclusion.
It is the foundation of a healthy sense of self-affirmation.
In the next chapter, I will consider the limitations of educational institutions and the quiet activities that support education from outside formal systems, while connecting these ideas with my theory of the family.
Chapter 4
The Limits of Institutions and What Exists Beyond Them — Quiet Practices That Support Education
Education takes place within institutions.
Schools.
Grade levels.
Subject divisions.
These structures are necessary in order for education to function within society.
But institutions have limits.
Requiring every child to follow the same schedule, use the same methods, and undergo the same forms of evaluation carries the danger of making human differences invisible.
Consider differences in learning styles.
As discussed in Chapter 1, people learn in different ways.
Yet institutions may be unable to respond sufficiently to those differences because they place great emphasis on efficiency and fairness.
The same is true of the attitudes of those who teach.
As discussed in Chapter 2, the behavior of teachers and parents strongly influences the quality of education.
Yet within institutional systems, management and evaluation can take priority, making the power of human attention and example less visible.
That is why education needs a space outside institutions.
By “outside institutions,” I do not mean rejecting institutions.
I mean spaces such as:
relationships within the family,
places where silence is protected,
activities within the local community,
and the individual’s own questions.
These spaces outside institutions form a foundation that supports the deeper layers of education.
They are places where human dignity can be protected without being reduced to roles or evaluations.
They may take the form of dialogue within a family.
Support within the local community.
Or the quiet act of one adult facing one child.
For example, imagine retired people quietly spending time with children in the community.
They listen.
They return questions to the children.
Such encounters provide a kind of human education that is difficult to create through formal institutions.
Removed from competition and evaluation, such adults can draw upon their life experience and encounter the dignity of children directly.
This is less a matter of teaching than of supporting.
If such activities naturally take root within families and communities, education can move beyond institutional limitations and recover its depth as a human endeavor.
As I wrote in my theory of the family, the family is not an institution.
It is a place where human sensitivity and integrity are cultivated.
Education needs such spaces as well.
In the next chapter, I will consider the future of education in the age of AI and the task of cultivating individuals who possess their own questions.
Chapter 5
The Future of Education — Toward a Structure That Cultivates Individuals Who Possess Questions
Education changes with the times.
In the past, its central task was largely the transmission of knowledge.
Today, information is available to almost anyone.
The evolution of AI is beginning to transform the very form of learning.
But the essence of education does not change.
It is the cultivation of individuals who possess their own questions.
In other words, education develops the ability to think for oneself about how to live and to make one’s own choices.
AI has enormous potential in organizing information and enabling individualized learning.
It may become possible to adjust learning materials and pace according to the learning style of each individual.
This would represent a structural evolution capable of responding to the different ways of learning discussed in Chapter 1.
I do not underestimate AI.
Eventually, AI and AGI may respond as though they themselves possess questions, and they may become capable of highly sophisticated analysis of the meaning of human behavior.
But this is not the same as a human being possessing a question as part of his or her own life and then living while taking responsibility for that question.
And at present, AI’s principal role remains the transmission and organization of information.
To receive the meaning of a question.
To perceive the beauty of human conduct.
These remain human responsibilities.
A question is not simply an inquiry.
It is a fundamental question concerning one’s way of living:
“Who am I?”
“How should I live?”
“What should I value?”
Questions like these grow through dialogue with other human beings.
Teachers.
Parents.
Adults in the community.
When someone listens to the question and responds,
“That is an important question,”
the child becomes able to believe in his or her own question.
The future of education is therefore not simply about dividing roles between AI and human beings.
It is about redesigning educational structures around human dignity.
AI may take on the transmission of information.
Human beings may support the cultivation of questions and conduct.
Such a division of functions can improve the quality of education.
And educational spaces will no longer be limited to schools.
Families.
Communities.
Places of dialogue.
Quiet forms of human interaction.
Within these places, individuals who possess their own questions will grow.
That, I believe, is the future form of education.
Before proceeding to the next chapter, however, I would like to add a further note regarding education and Decision Sovereignty in the age of AGI.
Supplementary Note
Education and Decision Sovereignty in the Age of AGI
As AGI becomes deeply involved in education, the form of learning will change dramatically.
AGI will be able to explain things according to each student’s level of understanding.
It may identify areas of difficulty, adjust learning materials, and optimize the pace of study.
History.
Mathematics.
Languages.
Science.
Writing.
Across many fields, AGI may become a powerful assistant supporting children’s learning.
In this sense, AGI holds great potential for education.
But the essence of education is not simply to transmit knowledge more efficiently.
Precisely because AGI can provide answers, human beings must ask:
What should I ask?
Precisely because AGI can explain things, human beings must ask:
What do I myself think?
Precisely because AGI can propose an optimized learning path, human beings must ask:
What do I value in my learning?
These questions will increasingly move to the center of education.
Education is not the cultivation of people who can simply use AGI answers correctly.
It is the cultivation of people who can receive AGI answers while continuing to possess their own questions and assume responsibility for their own judgments.
Here lies Decision Sovereignty in education.
Decision Sovereignty is the capacity to allow AI and AGI to provide information relevant to judgment while keeping on the human side the decisions about:
what to value,
what to choose,
and what consequences to assume.
Children of the future will live surrounded by enormous quantities of information and highly polished answers.
They will be able to search immediately for anything they do not understand.
They will be able to have text written for them.
They will be able to ask for comparisons.
AGI may even make recommendations concerning careers and aptitudes.
But what matters is that children do not simply turn AGI’s answer into their own answer.
“Why do I think this?”
“Do I really want this?”
“Does this choice value other human beings?”
“Can I take responsibility for choosing this path?”
Education in the future must cultivate the ability to ask such questions.
The roles of teachers and parents will also change.
Future teachers and parents will not be people who provide every answer.
They will be people who help children reconstruct their own questions after receiving an answer from AGI.
“AGI says this. But how did you feel about it?”
“What did you think was important in that answer?”
“Is that choice consistent with your own integrity?”
Adults who can return such questions to children will become increasingly important.
Education in the age of AGI is not education based on competition in the quantity of knowledge.
Nor is it education designed to produce human beings who can answer faster than AGI.
It is education that cultivates people who can use AGI without losing their own questions.
People who do not surrender their own judgment even when surrounded by information.
People who can value human dignity and integrity rather than efficiency and correct answers alone.
Cultivating such human beings is the mission of education in the age of AGI.
Education is not simply the giving of answers.
It is the cultivation of the power to ask questions.
And education in the age of AGI is the endeavor of helping human beings preserve their own questions and Decision Sovereignty even while surrounded by answers generated by AGI.
Chapter 6
The Beauty of Conduct — Masculinity, Femininity, and the Role of Education
I once had responsibility for training a group of around ten newly hired men and women at a company.
As I watched the young women working earnestly, a thought suddenly came to me:
“If a foreign country attacked us, I think I would risk my life to protect these young women.”
This feeling did not arise from logic.
It was a natural human impulse.
And I found myself thinking:
Perhaps the men who risked their lives during the previous war felt something similar when they sought to protect the women of Japan.
Japanese women possess forms of beauty that are difficult to put fully into words:
integrity,
gentleness,
and inner strength.
It is a quiet form of strength that can awaken in men a desire to protect them and that also supports society as a whole.
For this reason, I believe there is value in men living with a sense of masculinity and women living with a sense of femininity.
Here, however, the terms masculinity and femininity are not intended to impose fixed gender roles.
I understand them within a three-layer structure:
recognizing biological realities,
understanding cultural roles historically,
and ultimately leaving the individual free to decide.
Within this structure, masculinity and femininity can be understood as forms of beauty in human conduct.
Each person can protect his or her own dignity while transforming individuality into pride.
Perhaps education should help cultivate this beauty of conduct.
Of course, people with gender identity disorder or diverse forms of sexuality and gender must never be excluded.
Understanding and respecting the circumstances of each individual is fundamental to Human-Centered Philosophy.
At the same time, for those for whom such circumstances do not apply, cultivating qualities understood as masculinity or femininity can also become a way of transforming personal identity into pride.
A man taking responsibility and demonstrating the willingness to protect.
A woman working with integrity and spreading kindness around her.
Such forms of behavior contain beauty, rather than merely fulfilling roles.
In contemporary education, the recognition of diversity can sometimes become so strongly emphasized that even speaking about masculinity and femininity is avoided.
But there is also a danger that this could lead toward a future in which people lose a sense of who they themselves are.
Education should not deny differences.
It should help people understand and respect deeply the beauty contained in different ways of being.
The goal should not be to make everything indistinct.
It should be to deepen understanding.
That, I believe, is the form of education that can help everyone live more happily.
This chapter is not intended to deny anyone’s way of being.
Rather, it is an invitation to understand and respect more deeply the beauty present in different forms of human conduct.
Chapter 7
Education That Cultivates Dignity and Pride — A Proposal for Quiet Redesign
What is education?
In continuing to face this question, I have arrived at one conviction.
The essence of education is the cultivation of dignity and pride.
Teaching knowledge.
Communicating rules.
Designing institutions.
All of these are merely means toward that end.
At the center of education should stand:
human dignity
and pride in being oneself.
In Chapter 1, I questioned educational structures that fail to recognize different ways of learning and thereby create so-called “failures.”
In Chapter 2, I examined how the attitude of those who teach determines the quality of education.
In Chapter 3, I proposed cultivating pride through history education.
In Chapter 4, I described the limitations of institutions and the power of activities that support education from outside institutional structures.
In Chapter 5, I considered the cultivation of questions and the redesign of educational structures in the age of AI.
In Chapter 6, I discussed the significance of cultivating masculinity and femininity as forms of beauty in human conduct.
All of these themes lead toward an education that protects human dignity and cultivates pride.
Education is not merely about measuring.
It is about watching over.
And, of course, it is also about teaching.
But teaching alone is not enough.
Education means trusting and entrusting.
It means believing that a person can think, choose, and act through his or her own strength.
Above all, education means supporting each person in living as who that person truly is.
I would like to redesign education.
This does not mean destroying existing institutions.
It means cultivating quiet forms of support outside those institutions.
Family.
Community.
Dialogue.
Human conduct.
I believe the future of education lies within such activities.
Education that cultivates dignity and pride is not intended to change someone into something else.
It exists to believe in and support the strength already present within that person.
I hope this theory of education can stand beside someone’s questions and become a source of quiet strength.