On September 28, 2021, Mr. Shoukei Matsumoto delivered an online lecture themed "Connections" at the opening event of the annual summer festival hosted by IHI’s Technology Development Division. Founded in 1853, IHI is a long-established machinery manufacturer with a history spanning 167 years. The Technology Development Division is dedicated to fostering innovation that supports IHI’s technological advancements. The development of IHI’s products often spans decades, requiring multiple generations to carry the baton until the final results are achieved. In this context, Mr. Matsumoto engaged in discussions with the Technology Development Division about what they will pass down to future generations.

Long-Established Company: IHI. What Will IHI Pass Down to Future Generations?

Lecture by Mr. Shoukei Matsumoto

Thank you for inviting me to speak with you today on the theme of "Connections." My name is Shoukei Matsumoto, and I identify as a contemporary Buddhist monk. I’ve been exploring how to express Buddhism in a modern context, moving beyond traditional rituals and sutras.

I recently learned about IHI's significant efforts to enhance employee well-being—a topic that resonates deeply with me. In light of the challenges posed by the COVID  pandemic, many companies have reached out to me with increasing interest in this subject. The pandemic has led to a loss of connections and a rise in feelings of isolation and loneliness. From a Buddhist perspective, we understand these challenges through the lens of interconnectedness. As we often say, "The existence of every person is rooted in relationships." This idea is expressed through the principles of "dependent origination (縁)" and "emptiness (空)". At its core, nothing exists independently; everything is connected. Even when we attempt to isolate ourselves, we find that true isolation is impossible. In English, we refer to this interconnectedness as "Interbeing." Rather than examining connections in isolation, we strive to see the bigger picture—recognizing how everything is intertwined.

The friend who introduced me to IHI is an occupational physician. He suggested that, in today's world, there may also be a need for "occupational monks." This insight inspired me to embrace the role of a Sangyo-so, or occupational monk.One of the key activities I engage in as a Sangyo-so is facilitating one-on-one dialogues between monks and employees. In these conversations, we intentionally refrain from labeling the interaction as coaching, setting specific goals, or sharing any content with the company or HR. Instead, we maintain a completely free-form dialogue. This open approach allows a diverse range of topics to surface, including workplace relationships, family issues, and personal life consultations.

During the dialogues, we utilize voice emotion analysis, a technique commonly employed in healthcare, to assess the emotions conveyed through participants' voices. We focus solely on the tone rather than the content of the conversations. The analysis revealed an increase in feelings of "sadness" following the monk-employee dialogues. While this might initially appear to indicate dissatisfaction, participant feedback was overwhelmingly positive, reflecting high levels of satisfaction and a strong desire to continue these discussions. So, how do we interpret these findings? Independent researcher Mr. Makoto Morita has observed that "sadness is a vessel for many emotions." Experiencing sadness iis not inherently negative. In Buddhism, we talk about compassion, which embodies empathy and a connection with others. Thus, sadness can serve as a valuable means to understand and relate to the experiences of those around us.

In any organization or religious context, individuals often find themselves constrained by established frameworks, which can hinder their ability to express their true thoughts and feelings. In the workplace, many people may feel the need to "turn off" their emotions to cope with the demands placed upon them. However, this suppression can lead to an increase in "suffering," ultimately resulting in mental health challenges.

By engaging in dialogues with a Sangyo-so, an occupational monk, participants have the opportunity to reconnect with the emotions they typically suppress. This process allows them to acknowledge, "I was suffering," fostering a sense of "self-empathy." When we disconnect from our emotions and become trapped in our roles, not only do we experience discomfort, but we also stifle our potential for innovation. It’s crucial to recognize that embracing our emotions can lead to greater understanding and creativity within ourselves and our organizations.

In my conversations with various companies, I often hear about the pressures associated with quarterly results, where short-term goals take precedence. This relentless focus on immediate tasks can prevent individuals from taking the necessary time to reflect deeply, making innovation increasingly difficult. Many employees find themselves in the frustrating position of being expected to drive innovation while simultaneously grappling with the limitations imposed by short-term thinking.

So, how can we reclaim our sense of self in this demanding environment? As a Sangyo-so, an occupational monk, I strive to tackle this challenge. The role of a monk involves reflecting on what has been handed down through generations and considering what we will carry forward into the future. This necessitates a long-term perspective. 

As I reflected on my connection with IHI, I took the opportunity to explore the company’s history. Founded in 1853, I am genuinely impressed by its enduring presence and significant contributions over the years. Personally, I feel a strong connection to IHI. For example, I frequently use Tokyo Station, where I’ve learned that IHI was responsible for fabricating and assembling its steel framework. The work of those who came before us is clearly reflected in the very structure of this iconic landmark. Moreover, IHI’s legacy includes essential infrastructure projects such as the Rainbow Bridge, the Tokyo Bay Aqua-Line, and the Yokohama Bay Bridge. Given IHI’s global reach, it can be said that countless people around the world have connections to IHI and benefit from its remarkable contributions.

In September of this year, I had the opportunity to translate a book titled Good Ancestor by British philosopher Roman Krznaric. This work isn't about labeling our ancestors as good or bad; rather, it highlights a profound truth: everyone gathered here today will not be alive in a hundred years. At the same time, each of us will become an ancestor to future generations. We are all influenced by those who came before us at IHI, and it’s essential to consider how we will be remembered.

From the perspective of a hundred years into the future, will we be seen as having left behind something valuable, or will our legacy be viewed negatively? Today’s theme is Connections. While the rise of remote work may weaken our horizontal connections, it’s equally important to recognize our vertical connections—those with the past and the future. IHI's long-term business model is often compared to forestry: previous generations plant the seeds, the next nurtures them, and subsequent generations harvest the fruits. What kind of seeds are we planting today? Regardless of their nature, these seeds are interconnected with society. 

The central question posed by Good Ancestor is, “What can we leave behind for future generations?”

Today marks the opening of the Summer Festival. The word festival can be written with various kanji characters, such as "政 (matsurigoto)," which means governance. Festivals are also ceremonies of gratitude and prayer, involving offerings and incense. These ceremonies are what we call festivals. While festivals are times for everyone to have fun and celebrate, they also serve as moments to reaffirm that we live within a larger network of connections. There's a concept known as "Hare and Ke," where "Hare" signifies the extraordinary, helping us remember the broader connections we often overlook in our daily lives. The role of the festival is not just for individuals to recall these connections alone, but for everyone to come together and collectively remember them.

Festivals are occasions where we can forget our usual selves, drink alcohol, and let loose, sometimes even losing our sense of reality. However, aren't festivals actually places where we, who often lose our sanity by getting stuck in our everyday roles and frameworks, can "regain our sanity"? Today, in this place where we are connected both vertically and horizontally, we have often lost opportunities to see ourselves from a broader perspective due to COVID. But if this festival can be an occasion where we ask ourselves the important question, "How will my work be evaluated by people 100 years in the future?"—a question we don't usually consider but is truly significant—then I believe this festival will be a success. Furthermore, because IHI has such a long history, I think we should earnestly contemplate what the future will look like 100 years from now.