Q: “How small can semiconductor circuits become?”
A: “The ultimate answer lies not in physics, but in economics. There is no limit.”

The other morning, while watching a business news program on TV Tokyo, I came across this exchange. The question was being asked by one of the program’s reporters. The person answering was the Executive Vice President of Technology at ASML, the Dutch company that is the world’s leading manufacturer of semiconductor production equipment.

Against the backdrop of the rapid advances being made in AI, robotics, and other technologies, semiconductors are attracting an unprecedented level of attention. NVIDIA, the leading company in AI semiconductors, now has a market capitalization that exceeds Japan’s gross domestic product (GDP). Meanwhile, Kioxia, which until recently had been looking for a buyer, has risen to the top by market capitalization in Japan. Led by companies like these, semiconductor-related stocks are booming around the world.

Now, the ASML executive I quoted at the beginning belongs to a company that was originally spun off from Philips, the Dutch electronics conglomerate—roughly the equivalent of Panasonic in Japan. Today, ASML is the only company in the world capable of mass-producing the lithography systems that are indispensable for manufacturing cutting-edge semiconductors, giving it a virtual monopoly on the market. With a market capitalization of more than 100 trillion yen, it, too, is an extraordinarily large company.

Before going any further, let me briefly touch on the history of the drive toward semiconductor miniaturization. What follows is based in part on information I looked up using AI.

Semiconductor miniaturization refers to the technology of reducing the size of transistors, which are tiny switches that turn electrical current on and off. Today, the semiconductor industry is pushing toward the mass production of 2-nanometer (nm) chips and beyond into the angstrom (Å) range, challenging what are considered the physical limits of miniaturization.

Today, semiconductors are manufactured with features measuring roughly one seventy-thousandth the width of a human hair—or just a few atoms across. In physical terms, they are said to have reached the limit. That was precisely what the TV reporter’s opening question was about. And isn’t the executive in charge of technology’s answer simply brilliant? If I were to interpret and paraphrase what he said, it would be something like this.

Semiconductor miniaturization has reached its physical limit. And yet, throughout history, technological progress has always overcome what was considered the accepted limit at the time. So long as there is demand, the day will surely come when we overcome today’s physical limitations as well.

That, I think, is essentially what he was saying.

Changing the subject, 50 years ago, my elementary school teacher described me as amanojaku in the graduation essay collection—someone who always goes against the grain. I had always known, even as a child, that I tended to reject conventional thinking. My teacher was probably trying to tell me that it was one of my strengths. But to the child I was then, being different from everyone else felt like being branded as somehow flawed, and I remember how deeply it upset me.

As an adult, however—and especially after becoming a business leader—I came to realize that my habit of not simply accepting things at face value, but instead looking at them from different angles, is one of my strengths. After experiencing, time and again, that ideas unconstrained by conventional thinking often worked out surprisingly well, I gradually developed a kind of confidence. It may not have had any real basis, but it was confidence nonetheless. I have come to believe that you should never assume something cannot be done. As long as you keep the goal clearly in mind, a path will usually open up.

That is why the words, “The ultimate answer lies not in physics, but in economics. There is no limit,” resonated with me so deeply. That’s exactly right. Employees and children who have been taught to accept conventional wisdom are quick to say, “I don’t think that can be done,” or “I don’t think it’s possible.” It is easy to get angry when you hear that. But I believe what really matters is to keep sending the message: Don’t assume it can’t be done. Sooner or later, their moment will come: once they have succeeded at something that was considered impossible or unconventional, they, too, will say to their own subordinates or children:

Don’t assume it can’t be done.

Hirotaka Shimizu
Chairman and CEO
Kamakura Shinsho, Ltd.

Image material：PIXTA