Originally published on October 16, 2020, and republished on July 26, 2026. Drawing on Nozomu Ishii’s research on the Senkaku Islands, Ukeru Magosaki’s arguments, the Science Council of Japan appointment controversy, publicly funded research, and NHK’s News Watch 9, this essay examines the responsibilities of scholarship, media scrutiny of political power, and evidence-based responses to information warfare concerning Japan’s territory and security.

2020-10-16
The Science Council of Japan and “Anti-Establishment” Reporting—Public Funds, Scholarship, and the Senkaku Islands
Republished July 26, 2026
This essay was originally published on October 16, 2020.
Since then, the institutional framework surrounding the Science Council of Japan has changed substantially.
A new Science Council of Japan Act was enacted on June 11, 2025, and the Science Council of Japan is scheduled to become an incorporated body on October 1, 2026.
The following is therefore republished as the argument I wrote in 2020 concerning the controversy over appointments to the Science Council.
What follows introduces the substance of the preface to Nozomu Ishii’s major work, Senkaku Hanbaku Manual Hyakudai—One Hundred Questions: A Manual for Refuting Claims on the Senkaku Islands.
The book is a serious scholarly study that examines Chinese claims concerning the Senkaku Islands through China’s own classical historical records.
Why do I take up this passage?
Because among people who read only the Asahi Shimbun and watch only NHK, there are those who, just as I once did, know almost nothing about what Ukeru Magosaki, former Director-General of the International Intelligence Bureau of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, had argued concerning the Senkaku issue.
In his preface, Ishii states that the more he studied Chinese historical records, the more convinced he became that the Senkaku Islands historically and culturally belonged on the Japanese side.
Then, in the autumn of 2010, a Chinese fishing vessel collided with Japan Coast Guard patrol vessels near the Senkaku Islands.
The incident remains in the memory of many Japanese as an event that shook the very foundations of Japan’s territory and administration.
Ishii questioned why Japanese reporting and commentary on the Senkakus contained so little discussion based on direct examination of China’s own classical historical records, and he proceeded with a full-scale investigation while publishing the results of his research.
What concerned him was the emergence of arguments that disseminated Chinese interpretations in Japan without sufficiently examining the actual content of the Chinese historical sources.
Ishii sharply criticized the arguments advanced by Magosaki and others concerning the Senkakus as a typical example.
At the heart of Ishii’s criticism was the contention that Magosaki did not himself conduct a detailed reading of the original Chinese-language historical sources, but instead accepted the Chinese interpretation as it stood.
The reason I introduce this passage is that I believed Magosaki also needed to be placed within the perspective I expressed in the preceding chapter: “The biographies of postwar intellectuals were biographies of betrayers.”
Then, in 2020, a major controversy erupted over the Science Council of Japan.
Of the 105 candidates recommended by the Science Council for membership in its 25th term, Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga did not appoint six.
Here I would also like to address the issue of Grants-in-Aid for Scientific Research.
Regarding projects for which political scientist Jiro Yamaguchi served as principal investigator, the total funding awarded to three major projects between 2002 and 2017 amounted to approximately ¥590 million.
Is it not only natural that research receiving such large amounts of public funding should have its results and public significance explained in a form that citizens can understand?
Watching NHK’s News Watch 9 at the time, I felt a strong sense of discomfort.
To me, Yoshio Arima’s comments sounded as though criticism of political power itself were being treated as proof of democracy.
By contrast, when Mayuko Wakuda appeared on screen during that segment, I thought her expression seemed to convey uncertainty.
Of course, that is simply my personal impression as someone who watched the broadcast.
But the issue I am raising is not the facial expression of an individual presenter.
If a news organization automatically places “the side criticizing power” on the side of justice, then reporting itself becomes a political position.
Among the six people not appointed in 2020 was Yoko Kato, then a professor at the University of Tokyo.
I had long held serious doubts about Kato’s interpretation of history and her public statements.
I have also long believed that the Science Council of Japan, as an institution established during the GHQ occupation period, needs to be examined together with its historical background.
The same applies to the Asahi Shimbun and NHK.
The problem is not opposition to government in itself.
Journalism that scrutinizes government is necessary in a democracy.
But adopting the banner of criticism of power does not exempt anyone from factual verification.
What has Japan’s academic community researched and presented to society regarding China’s military and propaganda activities concerning the Senkaku Islands?
If historical materials or digital exhibitions concerning the Senkakus published by the Chinese side contain statements inconsistent with the facts, Japanese scholars should answer them with historical evidence.
Is that not precisely the role of scholarship?
There must be freedom to criticize government, and there must also be freedom to support government policy.
But as long as something is presented in the name of scholarship, what must ultimately be tested is not political position, but historical sources and facts.
That was how I viewed this issue on October 16, 2020.
And precisely because it is now 2026, as the Science Council of Japan prepares to become an incorporated body, I want to ask the same questions again.
For whom does scholarship supported by public funds exist?
Are citizens receiving an adequate explanation of its research results and activities?
And in the face of information warfare concerning Japan’s security and territory, is Japan’s academic community truly fulfilling the role it ought to fulfill?