Through this column, I have long shared my thoughts and opinions on a wide range of topics—from the economy and business management to international affairs, politics, and even headline-grabbing current events—all from the perspective of an ordinary businessperson, an amateur observer. I have also written candidly about the personal values I have developed through these reflections. I have been writing this column every month for more than 20 years now—closer to 30 if you include the early days when print was virtually the only medium of publication. Lately, perhaps due to age, my mind doesn’t work quite as quickly as it once did, and writing has also become increasingly demanding. Even so, I keep at it because the messages I receive from readers bring me joy and motivate me to continue.

Most messages I receive from readers are positive, with many saying things like, “Thank you for offering a new perspective.” Of course, those who disagree or find my writing dull probably wouldn’t bother to send messages in the first place, so it’s only natural that the feedback tends to be favorable. Recently, I’ve also been hearing more from retail investors, often saying something along the lines of, “I agree with your views and vision, but could you please do something about your company’s share price?” Whenever I receive messages like that, I can’t help but feel apologetic. Our earnings have continued to grow steadily, reaching record highs year after year, yet our share price has been rather weak compared with the past. Perhaps we haven’t communicated our vision for the future clearly enough to the market, or perhaps investors are simply asking us to deliver even stronger short-term results. In any case, I intend to address the issue properly.

Through the process of writing these columns and reading the messages from readers, I’ve come to a certain realization, and I’d like to make that the theme of this month’s column: Discovering my true strength.

In this column, I’ve often written about business management. When I succeeded my father as president, I transformed the company’s business model from that of a traditional publishing house into a web-based media company, and shifted our focus from Buddhist publications to addressing issues surrounding Japan’s aging society. Toward the end of the 20th century, as the internet began to spread, I sensed that the publishing industry would face challenges with the rise of new forms of information distribution. Also, the market for Buddhist books was simply too small. By contrast, I believed there was significant growth potential in addressing Japan’s aging society.

Thanks to that shift, our company has continued to grow as a publicly listed company. However, I am by no means an exceptional business leader. I simply have a strong sense of intellectual curiosity and enjoy learning and thinking. I wasn’t born with the qualities of a business leader; rather, it was my curiosity that drove me to study and acquire those qualities—at least enough to fulfill the role.

My interest in philanthropy began with the Great East Japan Earthquake 14 years ago. At that time, I found it strange that volunteer activities and charitable support would surge only when a major disaster struck. After all, I thought, there are many people living with disabilities or struggling materially due to various injustices, even in ordinary times. Through research, I discovered that Japan had the second-highest poverty rate among OECD member counties. That realization led me to establish a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting people facing everyday hardships—a modest charitable effort I continue to this day. I also serve on the board of a social welfare corporation that operates a children’s home and an infant care center for those who cannot live with their parents. However, I do not consider myself a philanthropist; I simply acted out of my intellectual curiosity and a habit of thinking deeply about whatever happens before me.

I have also occasionally written about the economy and financial markets. I don’t devour technical books on these subjects, but I never miss the early-morning economic news programs, and I make a habit of reading analysts’ reports, the Nikkei, and several economic magazines. Based on these inputs, I form my own views on interest rates, exchange rates, and stock market trends in Japan and the U.S. That said, I don’t expect my forecasts to be accurate; I simply enjoy the process of thinking them through. I’m not a skilled analyst or investor, but just an amateur observer driven by intellectual curiosity and a love of learning and reflection.

I have also shared my personal views on domestic and international politics and global affairs—again, simply because I have a strong intellectual curiosity and enjoy thinking about such matters. However, I have no intention of engaging directly in those fields or trying to spread my opinions to influence others. Even if I wished to change society based on my own beliefs, the time required to do so would far exceed the time I have left in this life.

Looking around the world, there are times when the focus is on the future, with issues such as diversity and the environment taking center stage, as we saw not so long ago. And there are times when short-term interests dominate, as demonstrated by the changes taking place in the U.S. today. I have my own opinions about this, but I also recognize that such shifts in priorities are inevitable. Here in Japan, I believe that ensuring financial soundness and reforming the social security system are far more important than short-term measures like lowering rice prices. As I often write, most people tend to think only about what lies immediately ahead, with short- and long-term perspectives perpetually in conflict. Still, I understand that society is built on many different value systems, and that we have no choice but to seek balance among them.

So, if I were to assess my true strength, it would undoubtedly be my strong intellectual curiosity. I’m neither an outstanding business leader nor an admirable philanthropist, nor am I a particularly skilled investor or critic. I simply have a deep interest in many things—I think about them, and occasionally, I take action. That, I believe, is the defining trait that makes me who I am.

Now that I’ve passed 60 (I’m currently 62), my greatest curiosity has shifted toward how I should spend the rest of my life—in other words, what it means to live with purpose. These days, people often talk about the “100-year life,” but I believe there is a clear difference between simply living and living well. The final stage of life—when one is sustained by medical care and social welfare—is, to me, outside the scope of what defines a meaningful life. What matters is how to live well in the years leading up to that stage.

So my conclusion is this: I want to remain in an environment that continually nourishes my intellectual curiosity—my greatest strength, where I can meet good people, learn from good ideas, and keep thinking for myself. Time is precious now, and I hope to spend the rest of my life in such a setting.

Hirotaka Shimizu
Chairman and CEO
Kamakura Shinsho, Ltd.

Image material：PIXTA