About The Turntable of Civilization

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Born in Miyagi Prefecture, Japan.
It is easier than twisting a baby’s hand to manipulate the media and government of the democratic camp, which is trapped in pseudo-moralism and political correctness by the totalitarian state represented by the one-party dictatorship of the Communist Party, whose essence is propaganda.
The Asahi Shimbun dominated Japan until the press conference of its president, Tadakazu Kimura, on September 11, 2014.
When I was in elementary school, the adverse effects were probably not as significant as they could have been.
There were frequent national achievement tests and intelligence tests.
However, after my time, these tests were rarely conducted because they were said to be discriminatory.

When I was in the fifth grade, I was called into the principal’s office because I had scored very high on the above test.
For a fifth-grader, I already had the ability of a high school sophomore.
I studied at one of the best prep schools not only in Miyagi Prefecture but also in Japan.
I thought that The university of kyoto, not The university of tokyo, was where I should further my education.
One of my teachers went to Tohoku University instead ofThe university of kyoto due to family reasons and taught history at his alma mater.
When I was in junior high school, I had read Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” “Anna Karenina,” and Dostoevsky’s “The Brothers Karamazov.” Still, when I was in high school, for some reason, I became obsessed with Ryunosuke Akutagawa.
The Russian Revolution of 1917, in which Lenin established the Soviet communist state, had a significant impact on intellectuals worldwide.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa was, as his appearance suggests, a man of literature with a keen sensitivity that was the ultimate in delicacy.
He, too, has been profoundly influenced.
I felt that his suicide was partly caused by the trap of the “study school,” It said that since it had established a country of workers, there was no reason for intellectuals to exist.
That’s why I read and hunted for materials before and after the Russian Revolution in the library of my alma mater.
My teacher knew this.
When the unit on the Russian Revolution came, he put me on the podium, saying, “K knows more about this area than I do.”
The lecture I gave in front of all the brilliant students in Miyagi Prefecture lasted for two hours.
I ended the lecture by introducing Akutagawa’s “Words of a dwarf” about Lenin.
“Lenin. You are an electric locomotive born in the East, smelling of flowers and grass.

One of my classmates was one of the top two brains in science.
He was known throughout Miyagi Prefecture as a brilliant science major from the time he was in junior high school.
I was well known as a humanities major.
About five years later, he and I encountered each other on the stairs of a job security office in Sendai.
He had followed the path of Japan’s leading elite, only to be entangled by Zenkyōtō.
In stark contrast to him, I, probably because I was a liberal arts major, responded more than I should to the discord in my family where I was born and raised and went off on a sidetrack that none of my classmates knew.
In my alma mater graduation essay, it was written that “this K will eventually leave a great mark on the Japanese literary world.” Still, the main reason why this did not happen was that I encountered the writings of Le Clézio.
There is a saying that another person in this world is exactly like you, and that is how I saw him.
As long as he is writing, there is no need for me to write.
Also, it can throw books (novels) in the bucket after reading.
There should be only one book in this world.
Then I lived the life of his success story, the “Book of Escape” that I liked the most.
In the alumni directory of my alma mater, I was listed as having been missing for a long time.
I got a job at what is now Haseko Corporation.
They had been doing a background check on me for two and a half months.
One would not usually think that a man of such apparent genius would let his life go sideways due to personal and family suffering.
Wasn’t he involved in student activism?
I guess the company was concerned about this.
It was a job opening in the middle of a recession, and the halls of the head office were overflowing with job seekers for only two doors.
At the time, I was in charge of outdoor advertising sales at an advertising agency subsidiary of Sanwa Bank.
I was achieving results that were unprecedented in the history of this company.
Salaries at the subsidiary were low, and the employees were working to form a union to improve the situation.
The union’s core comprises two men, one from Kansai University and the other from Kwansei Gakuin University.
After work, we gathered in a room in a vacant building in the neighborhood and started preparing for the establishment.
However, they began to argue among themselves, so to speak, about the Sohyo line versus the Alliance line.
I said to them, “All you need to do is to ask for a raise in salary. It doesn’t matter what line you take. If that’s your main issue, then I’m out,” I said and left.
I felt a little uncomfortable.
At that time, there was a call for applications from Haseko.
The whole auditorium was filled with people in a desperate mood.
I had a feeling that most of these people would be rejected.
As for me, I was making the seven interviewers, including the one in charge who graduated from Osaka University, laugh.
I later learned that they decided to hire K because he was funny.
That was the beginning of my career in real estate.
Later, he founded Osaka Housing Distribution Group Co.Ltd., which was reputed to be one of the best real estate companies in Japan, although it was unknown nationwide.
During its heyday, the company paid over 17 billion yen in taxes to the Japanese government in just ten years.
You can find the rest of the story and today’s story in my previous blogs on goo and ameba.
In July 2010, I had no choice but to appear on the Internet because the confusion over the Osaka Station North Yard project, which I had been proclaiming to everyone around me as the key to Osaka’s revival, was too much.
Since then, I’ve been posting on goo and Amoeba, day after day, in many languages, to the world.
This time, the time has come to create this homepage as a blog with a chargeable system.
June 2021, lucky day!

About cloud funding.

It has been about 30 years since the age of the Internet, and this column, which appeared in July 2010, is the one and only blog in the world.
Hiroshi Furuta, whom I have known for the first time since August seven years ago, is a real scholar.
He is also one of the best scholars in the world.
However, as a long-time subscriber to the Asahi Shimbun, Weekly Asahi, etc., I had never heard of him.
It is one of the obvious facts about the mass media’s manipulation of information and biased reporting.
His definition of “intuition” is synonymous with what I have been saying since I was young: “Geniuses get inspiration, mediocre ones do not.
For people worldwide who want to know the truth of things, and for those who wish to have the correct knowledge as a human being living in the 21st century, this column will deliver genuine articles to the world every day in the language of each country.
As I have already mentioned, it is divine providence that the “turntable of civilization” is now turning in Japan, which has been the best country in the world since ancient times.
In Japan, real thinkers from all walks of life are writing genuine papers day and night.
Japanese is a beautiful language, but it is not the standard language of the world.
That is why the world did not know about Japan.
A recent book by Yoshio Kisa, former Yomiuri reporter and Berlin correspondent, “Germany is becoming ‘anti-Japanese,’ its true identity,” really proves that my article was correct.
This book is one of the most important books of the 21st century.
People around the world who make a living out of speech should become subscribers to this column.
It will keep you inspired about the truth of things. 

Japan, Where “The Turntable of Civilization” Is Turning — U.S.-China Technological Competition, Large-Scale and Sustained Investment, and a Question to the Ministry of Finance and the Old Media About the Nation’s Future

2026-08-13
At the very end of a Bloomberg article, an extremely important statement appears.
Kyle Chan, a fellow at the Brookings Institution who studies China’s technology and industrial policies, says:
“Ultimately, what will determine the outcome of the technological competition between the United States and China is large-scale and sustained investment in both innovation and industrial capacity. The country that possesses all of these elements will gain a lasting advantage.”
These words were spoken about the United States and China.
But I believe that these are precisely the words that Japan’s Ministry of Finance and the Old Media must now confront directly.
And yet, what are Japan’s Ministry of Finance and the Old Media thinking?
Around the world, investment in such fields as AI, semiconductors, quantum technology, space, robotics, biotechnology, energy, and advanced materials is no longer merely a matter of corporate capital expenditure; it has become a struggle that will determine the very power of nations.
What the United States and China are competing over is not this year’s fiscal balance.
What is at stake is the very destiny of nations: ten or twenty years from now, who will control the world’s core technologies, who will possess the production facilities, who will dominate supply chains, and who will determine global standards.
What is most important here is that Kyle Chan does not speak only of “innovation.”
He also speaks of “industrial capacity.”
Even if a country produces the greatest invention in the world inside a laboratory, it will not become national power if that invention cannot be mass-produced domestically.
Even if it produces the world’s finest academic papers, unless it can turn those achievements into products, build factories, supply materials, secure electricity, develop human resources, and capture global markets, the fruits of that achievement will be taken by other countries.
How many times has Japan already experienced this failure?
Liquid crystal displays, solar cells, semiconductors, digital platforms.
There are far more than one or two examples in which Japan stood at the forefront of research and technology, only to fall behind at the stage of industrialization and large-scale investment and surrender enormous markets to other countries.
Despite this, if every discussion of national investment begins with nothing but “Where will the money come from?”, “Government debt will increase,” and “This will burden future generations,” then that way of thinking itself is no longer suited to interstate competition in the twenty-first century.
Of course, I am not saying that wasteful expenditure should be permitted.
It is precisely the argument that confuses these two things that is foolish.
Expenditure that simply disappears and investment that creates future income, tax revenue, technology, industry, employment, and national-security capabilities are fundamentally different things.
It is absurd in itself to place wasting 10 billion yen and investing 10 billion yen to create a one-trillion-yen industry in the future into the same box labeled “government spending.”
At the same time, fundamentally restructuring the priorities of the national budget is also an urgent task.
In fiscal 2026, the budget related to the Basic Plan for Gender Equality amounts to approximately 433 billion yen, while the Children and Families Agency budget totals 6.3913 trillion yen when the general account and the Children and Child-Rearing Support Special Account are combined.
Existing policies into which enormous amounts of public money are poured every year, including gender-equality policies and the Children and Families Agency, must be subjected one by one to a thorough examination of their achievements and cost-effectiveness.
It seems to me that among them are many programs that it would scarcely be an exaggeration to describe as an accumulation of waste, programs whose purposes overlap, and programs for which results commensurate with the tax money invested can hardly be explained.
If we say that “there is no funding” for investments in semiconductors, AI, quantum technology, energy, space, biotechnology, robotics, advanced materials, and human-resource development—investments that will determine the nation’s future—while continuing year after year to pour enormous budgets into existing systems as though they were sacred and untouchable, then the priorities of the national budget have been completely turned upside down.
What is needed is not simply spending cuts.
What Japan must do is cut expenditure that does not create its future and boldly redirect national resources toward investment that does create its future.
Every business executive knows this.
A company that does not invest declines.
It does not renew its factories.
It does not conduct research and development.
It does not develop human resources.
It does not enter new markets.
And if a company proudly announced every year, “We reduced our debt again this year,” while doing none of those things, it would be obvious what kind of future awaited that company.
Is a nation really any different?
Indeed, in the case of a nation, technological strength and industrial capacity are themselves matters of national security.
Without semiconductors, even automobiles cannot operate.
Without AI computing infrastructure, a country cannot compete in next-generation industries.
If another country controls your energy supply, you lose diplomatic freedom.
If medicines are dependent upon foreign countries, even the lives of your citizens in an emergency can be left to the decisions of others.
If shipbuilding capacity, production facilities, machine tools, materials, communications, and space technology are lost, even national defense capabilities cannot be maintained.
Industrial policy, in other words, is economic policy and national-security policy at the same time.
The Japanese government has finally begun to recognize this clearly in actual policy.
In AI and semiconductors, a national framework has already been established to provide more than 10 trillion yen in public support over the seven years through fiscal 2030 and, using that as a catalyst, to encourage more than 50 trillion yen in public-private investment over ten years.
The fiscal 2026 budget also provides large-scale support, including massive investment related to next-generation semiconductors and the development of foundation models looking toward AI robotics and Physical AI.
This is the right direction.
The question is whether this will be treated as an exceptional and temporary policy or placed at the very foundation of national governance.
Look once again at the words Kyle Chan used.
“Large-scale.”
And “sustained.”
Those two words are the very heart of the matter.
Allocate a budget for just one year.
Cut it when the economy deteriorates.
Cut it when fiscal deficits become a topic of discussion.
Lose resolve when the Old Media calls it “reckless handouts.”
Japan cannot win global technological competition in this way.
Semiconductor plants, the research strength of universities, human-resource development, power grids, and quantum technology all require periods of ten or twenty years.
China continues such efforts on a national scale.
The United States also understands that competition with China is itself a matter of national security and invests accordingly.
If Japan alone simply stares at annual fiscal-balance figures, the outcome is predetermined from the beginning.
And I also want to ask the Old Media a question.
Whenever news emerges of massive investment in technology, do they not first ask about “funding,” then about “the burden on the public,” then about “fiscal deterioration,” and end their reporting there?
Those are not the only questions that should be asked.
What will Japan lose ten years from now if that investment is not made?
Have they ever calculated that?
If they write about the risks of investing 2 trillion yen, should they not report with equal seriousness on the risk that, by failing to invest that 2 trillion yen, Japan may lose markets worth 20 trillion, 50 trillion, or 100 trillion yen to foreign countries?
Fiscal deficits have numbers attached to them, so they are easy to turn into news stories.
But a future that has been lost has no number attached to it at the moment it is lost.
Is it not precisely the ability to foresee that future that we call intelligence?
I would say the same thing to the Ministry of Finance.
A nation’s credibility is not determined by the outstanding balance of government bonds alone.
What can that nation produce?
How much technology does it possess?
How many factories does it possess?
How many people can it develop?
How much energy, food, and critical materials can it secure?
All of these things together constitute the credibility of a nation and the power of a nation.
And it is absurd to isolate a single figure—government debt—and use it to judge the economic foundations and future investment capacity of Japan as an entire nation.
If we are to evaluate national strength, we must also look at the enormous assets held by the government, the country’s overall external assets, the financial assets of the private sector, its industrial base, its technological capabilities, and its human capital.
Japan’s net international investment position alone stood at 561.7504 trillion yen at the end of 2025.
I believe that Japan’s overall national balance sheet and underlying economic strength are so robust that it would not be an exaggeration to call them among the strongest in the world.
Nevertheless, the Ministry of Finance has placed the outstanding balance of government bonds at the forefront, while the Old Media have continued to transmit virtually the same logic directly to the Japanese people.
As a result, ideas such as “Japan has no money,” “Japan cannot invest because its fiscal situation is difficult,” and “spending must be restrained for the sake of future generations” have been imprinted upon Japanese society as though they were absolute truths.
But if we truly care about future generations, government debt is not the only thing we should ask about.
How much technology will we leave to future generations?
How many factories will we leave them?
How many researchers will we leave them?
How much energy-supply capacity will we leave them?
How many internationally competitive companies will we leave them?
And how strong and prosperous a Japan will we leave them?
Is that not the true meaning of “responsibility to future generations”?
How can handing our descendants a country whose fiscal indicators have been tidied up while its industries, technology, and research capabilities have declined possibly be called responsible fiscal management?
That is not fiscal consolidation.
It is the weakening of the nation.
And if the Ministry of Finance truly attaches importance to fiscal discipline, then all the more reason why the cost-effectiveness of every existing budget should be examined.
Budgets are continued merely because they have existed for many years.
Budgets are allocated because ministries and organizations exist.
Once a system has been created, it is protected as though it were a vested right.
If, while doing this, only investment in research and development and industrial infrastructure—investment that determines the survival of the nation—is bound by arguments about “funding,” that is not fiscal discipline.
It is merely rigidity in budget allocation.
Cutting waste and cutting investment in the future are completely different things.
Fiscal management that cannot distinguish between them is not even frugality.
It is a policy that impoverishes the nation.
Japan’s fiscal 2026 Science and Technology Promotion Budget amounts to 1.4378 trillion yen.
Then Japan should pursue this direction thoroughly.
But here we must ask an even more fundamental question.
Why have the Ministry of Finance and the Old Media continued for so long to engage in conduct that could scarcely have been more foolish?
I believe the greatest reason is that they lack the concept of “The Turntable of Civilization.”
They see Japan merely as a country with a declining population, as merely one of the advanced countries that once achieved rapid economic growth.
That is why what they see before them is the immediate fiscal balance, the outstanding balance of government bonds, and whether this year’s or next year’s accounts add up.
But that cannot reveal the true nature of Japan.
“The Turntable of Civilization,” about which I have written for many years, is not a concept concerned merely with economic scale.
It is the recognition that, through divine providence, the center of civilization moves toward countries whose civilization, culture, and intelligence have matured and that bear a responsibility to use those qualities for the benefit of the world.
And now, that “Turntable of Civilization” is turning toward Japan alongside the United States.
I am convinced of this.
Japan possesses a level of civic culture that it would not be an exaggeration to call the highest in the world.
Japan possesses an intellectual level that it would not be an exaggeration to call the highest in the world.
And Japan possesses extraordinarily beautiful nature and culture, rare even in the world, and has preserved them for thousands of years.
This was not created in a single generation.
It is civilization itself, handed down from generation to generation by countless Japanese people who have lived in this country over thousands of years.
That is why the governance of Japan cannot be discussed solely in terms of a single year’s fiscal balance.
We must think about Japan one hundred years and two hundred years from now.
And I believe that, for at least another 170 years, Japan must remain a country that leads the world alongside the United States.
In reality, the period is much, much longer.
It would not be an exaggeration to say forever.
We, who have inherited the past 2,600 years, also bear responsibility for the next 2,600 years.
Here, I believe, lies the decisive difference between Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi and the conventional view of the nation represented by the Ministry of Finance.
The present Takaichi administration has adopted a policy of “responsible proactive fiscal policy” and is pursuing growth investment and investment in crisis management as part of national strategy.
I regard Prime Minister Takaichi as a prime minister of such intelligence and decisiveness that it would not be an exaggeration to call her one of the greatest in Japan’s history.
That is because she can see Japan.
She can see the world.
Is it not because she is a politician who understands, not merely through statistical figures but almost instinctively, how enormous Japan’s inherent potential truly is?
That is precisely why she has put forward a proactive fiscal policy designed to strengthen the power of the nation and generate future wealth.
Proactive fiscal policy does not simply mean that the government spends money.
It is an investment that those of us alive today make in the future so that Japanese civilization can be passed on to the next age.
Semiconductors, AI, quantum technology, energy, space, biotechnology, and robotics are all necessary for that purpose.
Developing researchers, keeping factories in Japan, securing electricity, and protecting the national territory are all part of the same undertaking.
They are all necessary in order to pass the nation of Japan on to the next generation.
Is not this sense of time precisely what is most lacking in the Ministry of Finance and the Old Media?
This is not about this year’s budget.
Nor is it merely about ten years from now.
It is about a vision of the nation that asks how Japan will be preserved one hundred years, two hundred years, and far beyond that into the future.
Japan must not govern itself on the assumption that it will decline.
Japan must govern itself on the assumption that it will continue to be one of the greatest nations in the world.
The responsibility for that does not belong to the government alone.
It belongs to every Japanese person alive today.
The world is now at an enormous turning point.
AI is transforming industrial structures, semiconductors have become strategic goods that determine national security, and energy, robotics, space, biotechnology, and quantum technology will determine the wealth and security of nations.
In this age, the most dangerous policy is not merely to invest and fail.
It is to do nothing.
It is to fail to invest.
It is to lose researchers.
It is to lose factories.
It is to lose technology.
And then, after all of these things have been lost, to comment, “Why can Japanese companies no longer compete in the world?”
We must not repeat such foolishness any longer.
Kyle Chan’s words were spoken about the United States and China.
But it is Japan that should engrave this sentence at the very heart of its national strategy.
Only a country that invests on a large scale and on a sustained basis in both innovation and industrial capacity will gain a lasting advantage.
Then is not the answer perfectly clear?
Will Japan become a country that invests?
Or will it become a country that merely watches the United States and China invest while commenting from the sidelines on fiscal-balance figures?
The Ministry of Finance and the Old Media must answer this question.
Japan’s future will not be determined by whether this year’s accounts balance.
It will be determined by what we invest in today, how much we invest, and how long we continue that investment in order to create the next thirty years.
And we must not forget what lies beyond those thirty years.
We who have inherited the past 2,600 years bear responsibility for the next 2,600 years as well.
For the next 2,600 years too, Japan must continue to exist as one of the greatest nations in the world.
What, then, are we to preserve today, what are we to discard, and what are we to invest in for that purpose?
That is the true responsibility that the Japanese people must fulfill.
What is needed is neither taxation as the starting assumption nor indiscriminate spending cuts.
Cut what is unnecessary, and invest in what is necessary with the destiny of the nation at stake.
That is what governing a nation means.
A nation incapable of doing that can never achieve the rebirth of Japan as a technological power.