Notice

 I’ll be taking a short break from the blog.

The Growing Number of People Without Restraint — and the Limits of Deterrence

Another rainy day, and the soreness in my throat eases slightly.
The cycle of irritation and coughing continues, softened only a little by a mask that can do no more than it already does.

This morning, a news story caught my attention — yet another reminder that restraint, once taken for granted, may no longer be working as it should.

 

A news report described a public prosecutor with a wife and children who pretended to be single on a dating app and was subsequently sued by the woman he deceived.
I recalled seeing similar stories not long ago. These incidents are likely only the tip of the iceberg.

I feel sympathy for the woman involved.

Because these interactions take place online, such behavior is technically possible.
Still, one would expect common sense or conscience to intervene and act as a brake.
Yet those internal restraints seem to have stopped functioning.

The same applies to the groups of teachers arrested last year for voyeuristic crimes.
When did society begin to look like this?

Imagination and fantasy are essential human capacities.
They have given rise to countless works of literature and driven the development of philosophy and many other fields.
Thinking, “I could do this, couldn’t I?” is not a crime in itself.

But once such thoughts are carried out in the real world — once they are directed physically toward another person — they become a crime.

Only ten years ago, before smartphones and apps became so sophisticated, carrying out such acts was physically extremely difficult.
Today, with a little ingenuity and ill-intended cleverness, they can be done all too easily.

Society cannot keep pace with technological progress quickly enough to suppress these acts — or rather, these crimes.

Of course, the removal of obstacles does not mean that anything is permissible.
Such behavior must be restrained, and ultimately, the only force capable of doing so is human conscience itself.

Yet in an age that values diversity, even the concept of conscience varies widely.
It cannot be uniformly defined, which makes the problem all the more difficult.

And it is certainly naïve to believe that saying “things were better in the past” offers any real solution.

Friendships Since I Came Here

Since moving to Hatena Blog, I have gradually formed new friendships while carrying traces of those I once had elsewhere.
Some connections have deepened through quiet encouragement, while others have faded through differences that could not be bridged.
This is a reflection on what it means to build—and sometimes let go of—relationships in a digital space.

It has been more than six months since I moved to Hatena Blog, and I am gradually realizing how different it feels from Goo Blog, where I used to write.

Goo Blog has already disappeared, and now there is no way to look back and recall what kind of place it really was.

Even so, many of us who moved from there have remained connected as friends, and little by little, I have also made new ones.

There are many recommended blogs, and when I come across something that genuinely interests me, I read it carefully. If it resonates with me, I register the writer as a friend and add them to my circle.

Perhaps because there are many younger bloggers here, I do sense a difference in atmosphere—but that is only natural.

 

Blog friends are something to be truly grateful for.
They read my daily posts and sometimes leave comments that show they understand me even better than I understand myself.

They are also considerate about my physical condition and how things are going at work. At such times, I feel deep gratitude.

Yesterday, I was surprised to receive a sudden message from a blog friend with whom I had parted ways some time ago.

Here is an article from that time.

    

Differences in Ways of Thinking, and Letting Go
— A Digitalized Society

The other day, I left a comment on an entry written by a blog friend who had appeared several times in this blog before. In response, I was harshly criticized.

It was not quite a denial of my character, but rather sharp words suggesting that the world I had lived in was different from theirs, and that my approach to blogging was naïve. The language was pointed enough to leave me deeply discouraged.

What I write on this blog is entirely my own choice. That freedom is precisely what defines this space. I also do not expect, nor can I know, what readers think about what I write, or how they should feel about it.

Even so, being attacked is painful and disappointing. And this was not the first time—it was the second.

Understanding one another is difficult. No two people grow up in exactly the same environment. Trying to bridge that gap can sometimes be meaningful, even enjoyable. But when one is abruptly dismissed, all that remains is a sense of loss.

Perhaps, being someone who values solitude, they disliked the fact that I occasionally left comments on their blog. I never intended to fully explain myself or to be understood, but after being spoken to in such a way, I decided to let it go and bring our interaction to an end.

I never imagined I would encounter the word resignation—or perhaps acceptance—in a place like this.

Rather than stopping this blog altogether…

 

Back then as well, it was encouragement from blog friends that gave me the motivation to keep writing. Looking back, I am glad I did not stop.

At one point, I felt as though I was being tightly controlled, but with the closure of Goo Blog, I now feel as if I am walking a “second life” here on Hatena Blog.

 

If one underestimates the online world simply because it is virtual, it is easy to get hurt unexpectedly, so caution is necessary.

Whether I contact that person again depends on whether I ever feel like reading their blog. At the moment, I do not.

For now, I am surrounded each day by friends I feel close to, and I spend my days in a fairly good and enjoyable state of mind.

 

 

When I Realized I Was No Longer Being Encouraged

 At a recent conference, I found myself offering words of encouragement to younger doctors—simple phrases like “Do your best” or “Have you tried this approach?”
It was only afterward that I realized something quietly unsettling: no one says those words to me anymore.

 

At a recent conference, I spoke with several younger doctors I have worked with and found myself saying things like,
“Do your best,” or, “Have you thought about doing it this way?”
They were words of encouragement, or perhaps advice.

Then it occurred to me that, at some point along the way, people had stopped saying such things to me.

There is no one left who encourages or cheers me on—
at least, not in my professional life.

Of course, my children still say, “Please stay healthy.”
But that belongs to a different dimension altogether.

When I think about it that way, it feels surprisingly lonely.

When I was younger, if someone said, “Do your best,”
I would reply without much thought,
“Yes, I will.”

But did I truly do my best?

Right after hearing those words, I would usually find some direction, and for a while I probably did “try hard” in my own way.
But how long did that effort really last?
That is less certain.

Those words of encouragement were, in effect, expectations.
Whether or not I lived up to them has accumulated into who I am today.
And in the end, the evaluation of those results is made by others.

Seen from that perspective, politicians are interesting figures: even at an advanced age, they continue to be “expected” to perform.

Of course, much of that expectation is tied to personal gain and outcomes,
and is directed more toward results than toward the individual themselves.

Even so, just because others no longer place expectations on me does not mean I must stop expecting something of myself.

For now, at least,
I will have to keep encouraging myself
as I go on living.

Just One More Week This Year

 The warmth from yesterday’s unseasonable weather still lingered this morning. It did not feel especially cold, though winter is said to be returning soon. With the year nearing its end, both the atmosphere and my thoughts feel suspended between rest and reality.

 

Some of yesterday’s unseasonable warmth seemed to remain, and this morning was not particularly cold, though winter is said to be returning.
The wind, however, was blowing strongly.

It seems that students have already started their winter break, making transfers at the station noticeably easier.
Here and there, a few students in uniform can still be seen—perhaps club activities, or perhaps university entrance exam preparation.

According to the calendar, this year offers a long year-end and New Year holiday.
There was a time when I was effectively on call 365 days a year, responding whenever something arose, but little by little, I stopped living that way.

It is not that clinicians have changed what they expect from pathologists. Rather, this shift reflects changes in working styles driven by the small number of pathologists available.
For laboratory technologists who assist us, being on standby in addition to routine night and weekend duties places a considerable burden on them.

In that sense, if I can get through this one week, a long winter break awaits.

Although I have made plans for once, my physical condition has been poor, and my mind has struggled to shift into the right mode.
Even so, this week is packed with appointments, and it does not seem possible to take time off for minor ailments.

I will do my best and get through it.

Tokyo’s Subway Is a “Anywhere Door”

 A friend who is planning to travel to Kyoto recently mentioned how affordable accommodation there has become.
What followed was a small but telling realization about travel, transportation, and how visitors experience Japan today.

 

A friend of mine, who is planning to travel to Kyoto, told me that hotel prices there have dropped significantly and that it was a real relief.

“This is thanks to Takai-san,”
they said.

It seems that accommodation costs across Japan have come down, making travel easier for Japanese people as well.
That can only be a good thing.

Yesterday, I had an errand in central Tokyo and took the subway.

Despite the crowded train, a woman was sitting with her legs crossed.
Curious, I looked at her face—she was a foreigner.

Looking around, I realized that most of the passengers were foreigners.
I searched for Japanese faces, but there didn’t seem to be any.

Saturday afternoon subways used to be relatively quiet.
Now, they have become a major mode of transportation for foreign tourists.

Subways are often thought of as dark and potentially unsafe, but Japanese subways are bright and feel unquestionably safe.
And trains arrive one after another without pause.

With a one-day pass, you can go anywhere—Ginza, Asakusa, Shinjuku, Shibuya—like using a “Anywhere Door,” moving freely in all directions.
It might even be easier than taking a sightseeing bus.

If so, why wouldn’t you use it?

Japan has become poor?
Let people say that if they want.
If they don’t want to come, they don’t have to.

Too Many Abstracts Are a Problem — Too Few Are an Even Bigger One

 I headed into Tokyo for a regional academic meeting.
My cold has been lingering, and the sky looked as unenthusiastic as I felt.

 

There was a regional academic meeting in Tokyo.
My physical condition has been fluctuating because of a cold, and the gloomy sky, with rain expected at night, did little to help.

Still, a junior colleague of mine is serving as the meeting chair, and as a senior, I could hardly skip it.
I was also curious to see the younger doctors I had once sent to work under him.

Looking through the program, I noticed many familiar names.
It seemed likely that the chair had personally asked acquaintances to submit presentations.

Academic meetings are troublesome things.
Too many abstracts create their own problems, but having too few is an even bigger one.

If they are that much trouble, perhaps academic meetings should not exist at all.
But as places for learning and exchange among members, they cannot be easily abandoned.

Thinking about all this, I found myself acknowledging how demanding it must be,
while quietly looking forward to the post-meeting reception.