Podcasts about in japanese

Speakers are now competing with mobile phones, short attention spans, and the audience's constant temptation to escape to the internet. A monotone delivery makes that escape almost irresistible. A presentation can have a powerful topic, a brilliant speaker resume, and a room full of interested people, yet still fail if the delivery puts everyone to sleep. Whether speaking in Japan, Australia, the United States, Europe, or anywhere across Asia-Pacific, leaders, trainers, salespeople, and executives need vocal variety, pauses, and emphasis to keep attention alive. Why do monotone speakers lose their audience so quickly? Monotone speakers lose audiences because the brain stops receiving useful signals of change, importance, or emotion. When every word sounds the same, listeners struggle to know what matters. A monotone voice becomes verbal white noise. Like the steady hum of a refrigerator, it may be present, but it does not stimulate attention. In Japanese business presentations, monotone delivery is often explained as a language and cultural pattern, because Japanese speech can sound flatter compared with English. Yet when speaking in English, especially to international executives or mixed audiences, the speaker must work harder to create highs, lows, contrast, and rhythm. Do now: Record your next talk and check whether your voice rises, falls, speeds up, slows down, and signals meaning. How does mobile phone distraction change public speaking? Mobile phones punish boring delivery faster than ever because the audience has an instant escape route. If the speaker does not hold attention, the internet will. Before smartphones, bored audience members had fewer options. They might stare at the ceiling, doodle, or politely suffer. Now they can check email, LinkedIn, Slack, WhatsApp, news, stock prices, or sports scores within seconds. This makes voice modulation a business survival skill, not a theatrical extra. In corporate training, sales presentations, town halls, investor briefings, and conference speeches, the speaker is competing against a personal entertainment machine in every hand. Do now: Assume the audience will leave you mentally unless your delivery gives them a reason to stay. Why are pauses so important in presentations? Pauses are powerful because they give the audience time to process, translate, and absorb the message. Continuous talking drowns one idea beneath the next. Many speakers fear silence. They rush, fill every gap, and treat a pause as a failure. In reality, pauses are pattern interrupters. They tell the brain, "Something has changed. Pay attention." For Japanese audiences listening in English, pauses are especially useful because they allow mental translation and comprehension. For global audiences, pauses also create authority. Leaders who pause sound more confident than leaders who machine-gun words at the room. Do now: Insert short pauses after important points, transitions, numbers, questions, and recommendations. How can speakers use voice modulation effectively? Voice modulation works by adding contrast through volume, pace, pitch, and energy. The audience needs vocal variety to stay mentally engaged. A strong speaker does not need a radio announcer's baritone voice. The goal is not to sound like a professional narrator. The goal is to guide listeners. Speed up to show energy. Slow down to show importance. Add strength to key phrases. Drop the voice to create seriousness. Lift the voice to create curiosity. This is especially important for executives, trainers, and salespeople who need to persuade, not merely transfer information. Do now: Practise one paragraph three ways: stronger, softer, faster, and slower. Notice how meaning changes. Why should speakers emphasise key words? Speakers should emphasise key words because audiences need help identifying what matters most. Without emphasis, every sentence sounds equally important and equally forgettable. Democracy is excellent in political systems, but not in speeches. In presentations, some words deserve more weight than others. The speaker must decide which words carry the meaning and then punch them vocally. This creates a mental path for the listener. In sales, leadership, teaching, and keynote speaking, key-word emphasis helps the audience follow the speaker's intended logic, emotion, and conclusion. Do now: Mark your script before presenting. Underline the words you want to hit harder. What should leaders and presenters do to avoid boring delivery? Leaders and presenters should check their delivery by recording themselves and listening honestly. Self-awareness is the fastest way to escape monotone hell. Most speakers do not know how they actually sound. They judge themselves by intention, not by audience experience. Recording reveals whether the talk has vocal variety, useful pauses, and highlighted key words. This matters for CEOs, sales managers, trainers, consultants, academics, and anyone presenting ideas. People attend talks to be informed, persuaded, motivated, entertained, or ideally all four. They do not attend to be gently sedated. Do now: Tape your next presentation. Listen for modulation, pauses, and emphasis before blaming the audience. Final summary A monotone presentation kills attention, no matter how strong the topic or impressive the speaker's credentials. Audiences need vocal variety, pauses, and key-word emphasis to stay engaged. Speakers are not just delivering information. They are guiding attention. In the smartphone era, boring delivery is punished immediately. The good news is that voice modulation, strategic pauses, and emphasis can all be practised. Quick actions for speakers Add voice modulation by varying strength, pace, pitch, and energy. Use pauses so the audience can process what you have said. Emphasise key words to guide listeners toward your message. Record your delivery and listen for monotone patterns. Do not rely on topic quality alone to hold attention. Author bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

I assume it's a portmanteau of "gallant" and "valiant?" Obviously neither of those have an E in them, but it's a language thing. In Japanese an E sound makes more sense there. All I have is my theories, because I've never seen this show, and I'm on the pod with two people who have a lot of thoughts about it. You can find a video version of this podcast for free on Scanline Media's Patreon! Don't forget to check out Grant on Bluesky, and also check out The Disappearances of Lydia Fountayne, a ten episode audio drama mystery! The first episode is out now, and if you want more, it's just a few days away- the rest of the season releases June 21st! If you want to find us on Bluesky, Dylan is lowpolyrobot.bsky.social and Six is six.scanlinemedia.com. Our opening theme is the Hangar Theme from Gundam Breaker 3, and our ending theme for this episode is Resumption from Gundam Breaker 4. Our podcast art is a fantastic piece of work from Twitter artist @fenfelt. Want to see a list of every unit we've covered from every episode, including variants and tangents? It's right here. Grant's intro music is Vlog Beat Background by Tunetank, a royalty free song used with our gratitude. The Scanline Media Discord can be found here! Units discussed: Galient Assault Galient Iron Giant Galient Cursed Soldier Ratt Robo-Dou Galient

Innovation may look obvious from the leader's chair, but it often looks like extra work from the team's chair. Leaders may say, "We need to keep innovating," but employees hear, "Here comes another initiative on top of everything else we are already doing." In Japan, this resistance can be even stronger because change often feels risky, disruptive and uncomfortable. People have routines. They know how to do their current work. They are competent, comfortable and busy. The leadership challenge is not merely to announce innovation. The real challenge is to sell the need for innovation so clearly that the team understands why standing still is more dangerous than moving forward. Why do leaders need to sell the need for innovation? Leaders need to sell innovation because most employees do not automatically see change as attractive, urgent or safe. They may already feel overloaded, sceptical or tired from previous initiatives that disappeared without results. Innovation sounds exciting in strategy meetings, but it can sound painful at the frontline. In Japanese organisations, SMEs, multinationals and B2B service firms, people often worry about risk, mistakes, extra workload and unclear benefits. If the boss simply talks about "better, higher, further, faster," the team may mentally check out. The leader must connect innovation to business survival, client value, productivity and personal relevance. Do now: Start by asking what the team is likely to resist, not what the leader wants to announce. How should leaders prepare before presenting innovation? Leaders should prepare by analysing the audience's knowledge, experience, biases and likely resistance. Innovation persuasion begins with understanding the listeners before crafting the message. A team of engineers, salespeople, administrators or senior managers will each hear the same innovation message differently. In Japan, where consensus-building and risk avoidance often shape decision-making, leaders must anticipate objections early. Has the team seen failed innovation campaigns before? Do they believe management will support the work? Are they worried about resources, time or blame? Preparation means mapping these concerns before the presentation. Do now: List the audience's likely objections and build answers into the talk before anyone raises them. Why should leaders design the closing first? Leaders should design the closing first because the desired final impression determines the whole presentation. If the close is vague, the rest of the talk will wander. This feels counterintuitive, but it is practical. Before designing the opening, leaders must know the one message they want people to remember. Is the goal to gain agreement for innovation time? Secure resources? Encourage experiments? Change behaviour? The close forces the speaker to boil the ocean of possibilities down to one essential point. That clarity then shapes the examples, evidence and alternatives used throughout the presentation. Do now: Write the final sentence first. Make it so clear the team can repeat it after the meeting. How can leaders state the organisational need for innovation clearly? Leaders should state the need for innovation in one short, direct paragraph that explains the problem and the objective. The team should understand the point within two seconds. A clear statement might connect market pressure, customer expectations, digital transformation, labour shortages or productivity problems to the organisation's future. In Japan's post-pandemic workplace, leaders cannot rely on long hours or old routines to solve every challenge. The statement should not drown people in proof yet. Its job is to create immediate understanding. The supporting evidence comes later, but the first statement must be unambiguous. Do now: Create a two-second innovation statement: the problem, the risk and the objective. What kind of story helps teams accept innovation? A brief, concrete story helps teams accept innovation because it lets them picture the need before being told the conclusion. Storytelling turns abstract change into a visible business problem. The story should include people the team recognises, a specific location, timing, season and situation. For example, a missed client opportunity in Tokyo, a competitor's faster response in Osaka or a productivity bottleneck in a regional office can show why the current way is no longer enough. If the story is vivid and concise, listeners may reach the leader's conclusion before the leader states it. That is persuasion doing its job. Do now: Use one short story that makes the cost of not innovating obvious. Why should leaders present alternative solutions? Leaders should present several credible alternatives because teams trust a strategic comparison more than a single imposed answer. Options reduce resistance and show the leader has done the work. Offer three workable solutions and explain the pros, cons, costs and risks of each. Then present the preferred solution last, because people often remember best what they heard most recently. If the recommended choice is to invest team time and resources into innovation, explain why it beats the other alternatives. In Japanese organisations, this comparison also helps internal consensus because stakeholders can see the logic. Do now: Present three options, make the innovation option strongest, and explain why it is the best path. Final Summary Selling innovation is a leadership presentation, not a casual team announcement. The design order matters: prepare the audience analysis, design the close, clarify the organisational need, build a story, compare alternatives, choose the best solution and then craft the opening. The delivery order is different: open strongly, state the need, tell the story, present alternatives, recommend the best solution and close with clarity. Most importantly, rehearse. Treat this internal talk like a major client presentation because the stakes are high. Leaders are asking people to leave the comfort zone and enter uncharted territory. That requires persuasion, structure and conviction. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー). Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Sales conversations need structure, not spaghetti. In Japan especially, the best salespeople do not simply pitch, push and hope. They build bridges between each phase of the buyer conversation: rapport, permission to ask questions, solution presentation, objection handling and the final close. These bridges make the sales call feel natural, respectful and useful for the client. For executives, sales leaders and B2B professionals, the real lesson is simple: a sales process is not just a checklist. It is a conversation road map. When each transition is handled smoothly, the buyer feels understood rather than sold to. Why do sales conversations need bridges? Sales conversations need bridges because buyers rarely move smoothly from greeting to decision without guidance. A bridge is the short phrase, question or transition that helps the buyer follow the logic of the meeting. In Japan, where trust, politeness and context matter deeply in business, these bridges are even more important. A salesperson who jumps too quickly into the pitch can feel abrupt, especially compared with the slower relationship-building style common in Japanese B2B sales. In the US, a direct "Let's get down to business" approach may be accepted. In Japan, the same move can miss the social rhythm that helps buyers relax and open up. Do now: Map your sales call into phases and write one clear bridge sentence between each phase. How should salespeople start a meeting in Japan? Salespeople in Japan should start by using small talk, meishi and respectful observation to build trust before discussing business. The beginning of the meeting is not wasted time; it is the first sales bridge. Business cards remain a gold mine in Japan. The buyer's meishi can reveal their title, division, company structure, location, seniority and sometimes even regional clues in their name. A skilled salesperson uses these details naturally. For example, commenting politely on a rare kanji reading or asking about the buyer's role can start a human conversation. This is different from many Western business settings, where business cards have become less central and meetings often begin more transactionally. Do now: Treat the first three minutes as a trust-building phase, not an awkward warm-up. Why should salespeople ask permission before asking questions? Salespeople should ask permission because questioning the buyer can feel intrusive unless the purpose is clearly explained. In Japan, this bridge is vital because direct questioning may be seen as rude if handled poorly. Many Japanese salespeople avoid asking diagnostic questions and instead launch straight into the pitch. That creates a problem: without questions, the salesperson cannot know which solution matters. If a company has 155 training modules, products or services, presenting everything overwhelms the buyer. A better bridge is: "We may be able to help, but I am not sure yet. Would you mind if I asked a few questions so I can understand your situation?" This makes the questioning feel respectful and useful. Do now: Never interrogate. Ask permission, explain the benefit, then diagnose. How do you move from questions to the solution? The best bridge from questions to solution is a short confirmation that shows the buyer you listened. Before presenting, summarise the need and explain that you have narrowed the options. This is where many salespeople lose control of the conversation. They ask good questions, then dump too much information on the buyer. In B2B sales, especially with executives, SMEs and large Japanese firms, clarity beats quantity. A strong bridge sounds like: "Thank you, I now understand what you are looking for. Based on your priorities, I believe this solution fits best." This tells the buyer the pitch is not generic. It is selected for them. Do now: Present only the solution that matches the buyer's stated need. Leave the rest out. What is the best way to check buyer interest during the sales presentation? A trial close is the bridge that checks whether the buyer is following, interested and comfortable. The simple question "How does that sound so far?" can reveal confusion, hesitation or hidden objections. This is not a hard close. It is a conversational checkpoint. After explaining the feature, benefit, application and evidence, the salesperson pauses and lets the buyer react. In Japan, where buyers may avoid direct confrontation, these gentle checks are especially useful. They give the buyer permission to raise concerns without losing face. Compared with more aggressive American closing styles, this approach is low-pressure but still commercially effective. Do now: After each major solution point, ask a soft trial close before moving forward. How should salespeople handle price objections? Salespeople should bridge into objections by thanking the buyer and asking why they feel that way. The best response to "Your price is too high" is not a defence; it is curiosity. A calm answer might be: "Thank you. May I ask why you say that?" Then stop talking. Silence is powerful. The buyer may reveal they are comparing against a cheaper competitor, working with a fixed budget, unsure of value, or testing whether a discount is available. Each answer requires a different response. If the salesperson guesses, they may answer the wrong objection. In Japanese sales, where open disagreement can be subtle, this bridge helps uncover the real issue. Do now: Do not fight objections. Clarify them first, then answer the real concern. Conclusion: What should sales leaders do now? Sales leaders should train their teams to build bridges, not just deliver pitches. A strong sales call has a clear flow: rapport, permission, diagnosis, tailored solution, trial close, objection handling and final decision. Each phase needs a transition that feels natural to the buyer. For Japan-focused sales teams, this is especially important. Respectful pacing, small talk, meishi awareness, permission-based questioning and low-pressure closing all help buyers feel safe enough to engage. The goal is not to manipulate the conversation. The goal is to make it easier for the buyer to understand, trust and decide. Author bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including the best-sellers Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery and Japan Presentations Mastery, along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō, Purezen no Tatsujin, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery and Japan's Top Business Interviews, followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Leadership communication is not just about giving instructions, sending emails, or making polished speeches. The real test is whether the message is received, understood, accepted, and acted upon correctly by the team. Many leaders assume that because they have said something, communication has happened. That is a dangerous assumption. In busy workplaces across Japan, Australia, the United States, Europe, and Asia-Pacific, employees are drowning in emails, Slack messages, Teams notifications, social media updates, policies, procedures, and constant information overload. When language differences are involved, especially English and Japanese, the risks multiply. Leaders must move from one-way broadcasting to interactive communication built on questioning, listening, and checking for understanding. Why does leadership communication often fail? Leadership communication fails when leaders confuse sending a message with creating shared understanding. A memo, email, meeting instruction, or executive monologue is only useful if the team actually receives, interprets, and applies it correctly. Many leaders fire content at their teams like a high-pressure hose, then move on to the next meeting. Later, they discover the task was not done, was done incorrectly, or veered off in a direction they never imagined. This is not always laziness or resistance. Often it is a communication failure. In Japanese workplaces, written English may be easier to process than rapid-fire spoken English, but written instructions can still be missed, skimmed, misunderstood, or buried under workload. Do now: After important communication, do not ask, "Did I send it?" Ask, "What did they understand, and what will they do next?" Why is one-way communication risky for leaders? One-way communication is risky because it gives the leader no reliable evidence that the message has landed.Broadcast communication may be efficient, but it is not always effective. Rules, regulations, standard operating procedures, policy memos, emails, chat posts, and presentation decks all have a place. They create records and help people review details later. However, they do not prove comprehension. The leader may believe the message is obvious because they wrote it clearly and sent it to everyone. The team may be distracted, overloaded, unsure, or reluctant to ask questions. In multinational Japan offices, this gap widens when instructions move between English and Japanese communication styles. Do now: Treat written communication as the start of the process, not the end. Build in questions, confirmation, and follow-up. How can leaders check whether people really understand? Leaders check understanding by asking clarifying questions and having team members explain the message back in their own words. A polite nod is not proof of comprehension. This is especially important in Japan, where people may avoid admitting confusion to protect face, preserve harmony, or avoid slowing down the meeting. Foreign executives working in English may also smile and nod through Japanese explanations they only partly understand. The solution is not to embarrass people with interrogation. It is to normalise clarification. Ask, "How do you interpret the priority?" "What is the first action?" or "Can we confirm the deadline and expected output?" These questions reduce expensive rework. Do now: Use feedback loops. Ask people to restate the decision, deadline, owner, and next step before everyone leaves the meeting. What are the five levels of listening in leadership? The five levels of listening are ignoring, pretending, selective listening, attentive listening, and empathetic listening.Leaders need to know which level they are really operating at, not which level they imagine they are using. At the lowest level, the leader ignores the speaker because their own thoughts take over. At the second level, they pretend to listen while preparing their clever response. At the third level, they listen selectively for agreement, resistance, or the answer they want. At the fourth level, they listen attentively, give full focus, and paraphrase what they heard. At the highest level, they listen empathetically, reading tone, emotion, hesitation, and what remains unsaid. Do now: In your next one-on-one, notice whether you are listening to understand or listening to reply. Why do leaders pretend to listen? Leaders pretend to listen when they look attentive but are mentally preparing their response, defence, story, or counterargument. The body may be in the conversation, but the mind has already left. This happens easily to busy managers and senior executives. A team member starts speaking, and one phrase triggers the leader's own experience, advice, warning, or disagreement. Suddenly the leader is no longer listening. They are preparing to lecture, correct, debate, or impress. In high-pressure workplaces, this habit is common because leaders feel responsible for having the answer. The problem is that employees notice when the boss is not truly present, and they often stop sharing useful information. Do now: Delay your response. Listen until the person finishes, pause, then paraphrase before giving your view. Why is selective listening dangerous for managers? Selective listening is dangerous because leaders hear only what confirms their opinion and miss critical information attached to the message. The team may be giving a warning, but the boss only hears agreement or resistance. Managers often listen for "yes," "no," "done," or "not done." They may miss nuance, risk, uncertainty, capacity issues, client concerns, or cultural hesitation. This is particularly risky in Japan, where indirect communication may carry important meaning between the lines. A team member may say, "That may be difficult," and the foreign leader may hear mild inconvenience rather than serious impossibility. Selective listening creates false confidence and poor decisions. Do now: Listen for context, constraints, and risk signals, not just agreement with your preferred plan. What does attentive listening look like in leadership? Attentive listening means giving the speaker full focus without interrupting, filtering, finishing their sentences, or redirecting the conversation too early. It is disciplined, patient, and practical. Attentive leaders listen to the entire point before responding. They paraphrase what they heard and check whether they understood correctly. They do not mentally draft their next speech while the employee is still talking. This improves execution because misunderstanding is caught early. It also builds trust because the team member feels respected. In performance reviews, project updates, client debriefs, and cross-cultural meetings, attentive listening can prevent avoidable confusion and rework. Do now: Use the phrase, "Let me check I understood you correctly," then summarise the person's point in plain language. Why is empathetic listening essential in Japan? Empathetic listening is essential in Japan because meaning is often carried through tone, hesitation, context, silence, and what is not directly said. Leaders must listen with their eyes as well as their ears. English can be direct and confronting, while Japanese communication is often more indirect, contextual, and circuitous. This does not make one style better than the other; it means leaders need cultural range. Empathetic listening means trying to enter "the conversation going on in the other person's mind." Is the person worried, unconvinced, embarrassed, overloaded, or quietly disagreeing? Are they saying yes to preserve harmony while thinking no privately? These signals matter. Do now: Watch facial expression, pace, silence, and tone. Then gently check what the person really means before assuming agreement. Final summary Leadership communication is not a monologue. It is not a memo, a speech, or a rapid-fire burst of executive brilliance. Communication only works when the message is understood and acted upon correctly. Leaders must move beyond one-way broadcasting and build habits of clarification, paraphrasing, attentive listening, empathetic listening, and feedback loops. This is especially important in bilingual or cross-cultural workplaces where English and Japanese communication styles can easily collide. The goal is simple: fewer misunderstandings, stronger trust, better execution, and a team that feels heard. FAQs Why do leaders think they are communicating when they are not? Leaders often mistake message delivery for understanding. Sending an email or giving instructions does not prove that people understood the meaning, priority, deadline, or expected action. What is the best way to check understanding? The best way is to ask people to explain the decision, deadline, owner, and next step in their own words. This should feel like a normal communication habit, not a test. Why is listening difficult for busy leaders? Listening is difficult because leaders are often already preparing their response while the other person is speaking.This creates the appearance of attention without real understanding. What is empathetic listening? Empathetic listening means listening for emotion, context, tone, hesitation, and what is not being said. It helps leaders understand the person behind the words. Why is communication harder between English and Japanese speakers? English is often direct, while Japanese can be more indirect and context-driven. This creates more room for misunderstanding, especially when people nod politely despite partial comprehension. Quick actions for leaders Replace one-way communication with feedback loops. Ask clarifying questions after important instructions. Have team members restate decisions and deadlines. Stop preparing your reply while others are speaking. Listen for tone, hesitation, silence, and hidden concerns. Use written follow-up for complex or bilingual instructions. Make checking understanding a normal team habit. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021, and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers: Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery, along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

"You have to make the effort to talk to the people who are decisive" "You shouldn't be the ambassador or the mail boy" "Communication is very important" "People are not stupid. They really see immediately if people do not walk the talk" "Be respectful and don't say no too fast"   Klaus Meder is Previous President of Bosch in Japan, leading a business that has evolved from a network of joint ventures, license relationships and specialised manufacturing operations into a major Bosch Group presence of about seven thousand associates. His Japan career began in the late 1990s, when he worked for roughly five years in a Bosch-Zexel joint venture in Tomioka, Gunma Prefecture, where he led a largely Japanese team in airbag electronic control systems while bridging technology, culture, language and headquarters relationships. He returned to Japan in mid-2017, bringing decades of Bosch experience, deep product expertise and a practical understanding of how German and Japanese business cultures can work together. His leadership story is shaped by adaptability: learning when hierarchy matters, when direct communication is needed, when respect must come first, and how a global company can build engagement, trust and innovation in Japan. Klaus Meder's reflections on leadership in Japan are valuable because they avoid both romanticism and stereotype. He first came to Japan in the late 1990s to work in a joint venture between Bosch and Zexel Corporation in Tomioka, Gunma Prefecture. The organisation was small, local, highly Japanese and deeply hierarchical. The seating order itself reflected the organisation chart, with senior managers placed according to rank and younger engineers progressively further away. For a young German vice president working through a translator, the first leadership challenge was not simply language. It was credibility. Meder earned that credibility through technical expertise, connections to headquarters and a willingness to communicate with the people who actually held authority, even when communication was difficult. He is clear that a common mistake for foreign executives is to speak only with the younger employees who have stronger English. That may feel efficient, but it bypasses the hierarchy and weakens trust. His advice is to respect the decision structure and make the effort to speak with decisive people. This is where Japan-specific concepts such as nemawashi, ringi-sho, consensus and uchi-soto become practical leadership realities rather than cultural vocabulary. A leader must understand where influence sits, how decisions are prepared and why inclusion matters before a formal decision appears. Meder also challenges simplistic views of Japan as indirect or passive. His early experience included a very direct Japanese president who shouted at people, and Japanese colleagues who told him plainly that he was too young. The lesson is that intercultural training is useful, but reality is more complex than the stereotype. Japan combines respect, formality, hierarchy and strong customer orientation with moments of surprising directness. When he returned to Japan in 2017, Bosch Japan had grown dramatically. The leadership challenge had shifted from surviving in a traditional joint venture to building one Bosch spirit across legacy companies, product relationships and long-standing industrial ties. Engagement, in his view, is not captured perfectly by global survey scores. A question such as whether an associate would recommend the company to a relative carries different weight in Japan because personal responsibility, employer responsibility and uncertainty avoidance are culturally stronger. For Meder, engagement is built through communication and practical proof. During the coronavirus crisis, Bosch Japan held weekly crisis meetings, shared outcomes and used his personal blog, translated into Japanese, to explain global and local decisions. The company also ran a vaccination programme for thousands of associates and family members. Trust was not just discussed; it was operationalised. That same trust appears in working-time recording, where associates record their own hours honestly even though overtime pay is affected. His leadership definition is anchored in approachability, conviction, walk the talk behaviour and judgement. Leaders must know when to let teams run and when to make clear decisions. In Japan, they must be respectful, slow to reject ideas, serious about language and body language, and willing to encourage people to move faster in their careers. For Meder, leadership in Japan is not about forcing a Western model onto a Japanese organisation. It is about combining respect with clarity, trust with accountability, and global ambition with cultural intelligence. Q&A Summary What makes leadership in Japan unique? Leadership in Japan is unique because formal structure, informal influence and respect all operate at the same time. Klaus Meder describes an earlier workplace where the seating order mirrored the organisation chart and where communication moved through clear hierarchical channels. A foreign leader who ignores that structure can easily damage trust. Effective leadership therefore requires understanding nemawashi, consensus-building, ringi-sho style preparation and the boundary between uchi and soto. Japan is not simply hierarchical for the sake of hierarchy; it is a system in which responsibility, respect and decision ownership must be carefully managed. Why do global executives struggle? Global executives often struggle because they mistake English fluency for authority. Meder warns against speaking only to younger engineers or managers who communicate easily in English while bypassing senior decision-makers. That may accelerate conversation in the short term, but it weakens alignment. Executives also struggle when they rely too heavily on stereotypes. Meder was told that Japanese leaders were indirect and quiet, yet his first Japanese president was extremely direct. The real skill is to observe, adapt and communicate with the people who matter, not with the people who are merely easiest to reach. Is Japan truly risk-averse? Meder's comments suggest that Japan is not simply risk-averse; it is responsibility-conscious. Engagement survey questions reveal this difference. When Japanese associates are asked whether they would recommend the company to a relative or friend, they may hesitate not because they are disengaged, but because they feel personally responsible for both the person and the employer. This is closer to uncertainty avoidance than lack of commitment. Leaders need decision intelligence: the ability to interpret survey data, promotion reluctance and customer requests through cultural context rather than through a single global benchmark. What leadership style actually works? The style that works is respectful, approachable and clear. Meder emphasises communication, trust and walk the talk behaviour. People quickly notice when leaders say one thing and do another. In stable periods, leaders can let the team operate independently. In crises, people want leaders to bring them together and make clear decisions. This flexible style matters in Japan because excessive command can suppress initiative, while excessive delegation can create uncertainty. The leader's task is to know when to let loose and when to lead. How can technology help? Technology helps when it creates participation, visibility and learning. Bosch uses continuous improvement, hackathons, internal start-up platforms and online training to draw ideas from associates and make them visible to management. In an advanced manufacturing environment, the same principle extends to decision intelligence, digital twins and data-informed process improvement: technology should not replace trust, but it can make problems, options and learning cycles clearer. For engagement, the platform itself can be as valuable as the eventual winning idea because associates see that their ideas are heard. Does language proficiency matter? Yes, language proficiency matters, but effort matters even before mastery. Meder says Japanese is difficult, yet even a few words can be appreciated because the effort signals respect. He also stresses the importance of gestures and body language. In Japanese grammar, the decisive word can come at the end, and sometimes it is not spoken at all. Leaders therefore need to read tone, silence and non-verbal cues. Language is not only vocabulary; it is a way of understanding respect, hesitation, agreement and disagreement. What's the ultimate leadership lesson? The ultimate lesson is to combine respect with movement. Meder advises foreign leaders to be respectful and not say no too quickly, especially to customers or associates. At the same time, he believes Japanese careers often progress too slowly. He encourages associates to think in three-to-five-year career steps rather than staying in the same role for ten or fifteen years. Leadership in Japan therefore means honouring the culture while helping people grow beyond the limits the culture can sometimes impose. Author Credentials Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have also been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー). In addition to his books, Greg publishes daily blogs on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, offering practical insights on leadership, communication, and Japanese business culture. He is also the host of six weekly podcasts, including The Leadership Japan Series, The Sales Japan Series, The Presentations Japan Series, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews. On YouTube, he produces three weekly shows — The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews — which have become leading resources for executives seeking strategies for success in Japan.

Enthusiasm is not decoration in a presentation. It is the force that transfers belief from the speaker to the audience. In Japan, where business audiences often value substance, humility, preparation, and credibility, enthusiasm must be authentic rather than theatrical. When professionals present, they are selling more than information. They are selling their personal brand, their company brand, their message, and their conclusion. The speaker who combines expertise with genuine passion becomes much easier to trust, remember, and follow. Why does enthusiasm matter when presenting in Japan? Enthusiasm matters because audiences do not only evaluate the speaker's information; they evaluate the speaker's conviction. If the presenter does not seem to believe the message, the audience will not feel compelled to believe it either. In Japanese business presentations, especially with executives, clients, sales teams, and internal decision-makers, the audience often watches for preparation, sincerity, and credibility. This is true whether the speaker is presenting in Tokyo, Osaka, Singapore, Sydney, New York, or London. Enthusiasm signals that the presenter has moved beyond data and has reached a clear point of view. It also helps cut through the formality of the room. The best energy is not loudness. It is visible commitment to the message. Do now: Treat enthusiasm as proof of belief. Show the audience that the message matters to you before asking it to matter to them. Are all professionals really in sales when they present? Yes, every professional is in sales when presenting because every presentation asks the audience to accept an idea, support a decision, or remember a message. The word "sales" may feel uncomfortable, but the activity is unavoidable. A lawyer sells an argument. A consultant sells a recommendation. A manager sells a strategy. A professor sells a way of thinking. A founder sells a vision. A country manager in Japan may be selling change to headquarters, while a regional executive may be selling alignment across Asia-Pacific. Even if the business card does not say salesperson, the podium turns the speaker into a persuader. That is why dismissing sales as something only "car salespeople" or "vacuum cleaner salespeople" do is dated and dangerous. Do now: Before presenting, ask: "What am I selling — my idea, my conclusion, my brand, or the next action?" What are presenters really selling to the audience? Presenters sell three things at once: their personal brand, their company brand, and their message. The audience forms judgments about all three while the speaker is talking. Personal brand comes first. Does this person seem credible, prepared, thoughtful, and worth listening to? Company brand follows. If the speaker is dull, confused, or flat, the organisation's reputation also suffers. Finally, the message must be sold: the insight, lesson, proposal, or conclusion the speaker wants the audience to accept. In B2B sales presentations, leadership meetings, investor briefings, training rooms, and conference keynotes, these layers are always operating together. The presenter cannot separate themselves from the impression they create. Do now: Build the talk so your credibility, your organisation's credibility, and your message all reinforce each other. Why is subject matter expertise still essential? Enthusiasm without expertise is empty performance; expertise without enthusiasm is forgettable. The strongest presenters combine technical mastery with human energy. In Japan, where senior audiences often expect depth, precision, and evidence, a speaker must have a strong base in the subject matter. Enthusiasm cannot replace preparation. It can only amplify it. A sales trainer, engineer, financial adviser, HR leader, or university professor must know the topic well enough to answer questions, handle objections, and explain the logic behind the recommendation. As of 2025, audiences are also surrounded by AI-generated content, online lectures, and searchable reports, so the presenter must offer something more valuable than generic information: lived experience, judgment, and conviction. Do now: Earn the right to be enthusiastic by mastering the material first. How can presenters sound genuinely enthusiastic? The best way to sound enthusiastic is to speak about the part of the subject that genuinely lights your inner fire.Forced energy feels fake, but real interest is hard to hide. Inside every profession there are topics that matter deeply to the speaker. A sales leader may care about helping clients make better decisions. A trainer may care about changing behaviour. A founder may care about solving a problem that wasted years of effort. A Japanese country manager may care about bridging local customer needs with global headquarters strategy. When the speaker chooses the angle they truly care about, voice, gesture, pace, and facial expression naturally improve. This is not theatre. It is alignment between message and belief. Do now: Find the emotional centre of the topic. Present from that place rather than from a script alone. Why should presenters use personal experience and stories? Personal stories create enthusiasm because the speaker relives the journey, not just reports the conclusion. The audience feels the trials, mistakes, lessons, highs, and lows as the speaker tells them. Real-world experience is persuasive because it has texture. A speaker who says, "I believe this because I lived through it," is more compelling than one who only quotes frameworks or statistics. This works in Japan and globally because stories humanise expertise. They show how the speaker's belief was formed. A story about a difficult client, a failed presentation, a breakthrough training session, or a hard-won leadership lesson gives the audience a reason to care. When the speaker relives the moment, the audience travels with them. Do now: Choose one story that explains why you believe the message. Let the audience feel the journey that formed your conviction. Conclusion Enthusiasm is the transfer of belief. When presenters stand at the podium, speak on stage, or address a meeting room, they are not merely delivering information. They are selling trust, credibility, personal brand, company brand, and the value of the message. In Japan, enthusiasm must be grounded in preparation, humility, and real experience. Loud performance will not work. Authentic conviction will. When expertise, belief, story, and energetic delivery come together, the presentation becomes far more persuasive. Meta description: Learn why enthusiasm matters when presenting in Japan and how expertise, personal stories, and authentic conviction persuade business audiences. Keywords: presenting in Japan, presentation enthusiasm, Japanese business presentations, personal brand, persuasive speaking FAQs Why is enthusiasm important in presentations? Enthusiasm shows the audience that the speaker truly believes the message. When the speaker's conviction is visible, the audience is more likely to listen, trust, and remember. Is presenting really a form of selling? Yes, presenting is selling because the speaker asks the audience to buy into an idea, conclusion, recommendation, or next step. This applies to executives, consultants, managers, trainers, and technical experts. How can I be enthusiastic without sounding fake? Speak about the part of the topic that genuinely matters to you. Authentic enthusiasm comes from belief, experience, and personal connection, not from artificial performance. Why are stories useful in Japanese business presentations? Stories make expertise human and memorable. They help audiences understand how the speaker formed their belief through real-world experience. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021 and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Handling mistakes is one of the hardest leadership tests because everyone is watching. A missed deadline, poor-quality work, lost sale, compliance issue, or public error does not just affect the person involved; it reveals the leader's judgement, emotional control, fairness, and communication skill. Great leaders do not explode, humiliate, or destroy trust when mistakes happen. They investigate, listen, separate the person from the problem, and choose the right response based on whether the individual accepts accountability. In Japan, Australia, the United States, Europe, and across Asia-Pacific, where talent retention and psychological safety matter more than ever, mistake handling is no longer a soft skill. It is a leadership survival skill. Why is mistake handling such a major leadership test? Mistake handling matters because the whole team judges the leader by how they respond under pressure. If the leader reacts with rage, humiliation, or blame, trust and loyalty can collapse very quickly. Mistakes are often public. People see who missed the deadline, lost the client, damaged the quality, or created the operational mess. They also see whether the boss becomes a coach or a corporate executioner. In post-pandemic workplaces, where employees have more career options and lower tolerance for toxic management, public anger is expensive. Leaders who cannot control themselves may win the moment but lose the team. The best leaders protect standards without destroying dignity. Do now: Before responding to a mistake, ask, "What will the rest of the team learn from how I handle this?" What should leaders avoid when employees make mistakes? Leaders must avoid emotional explosions, public humiliation, personal attacks, and instant judgement. These reactions may feel powerful in the moment, but they damage trust, psychological safety, and long-term performance. The classic "rage-athon" boss may have a brilliant résumé, elite education, and impressive title, but none of that matters if they cannot manage their temper. In Japanese boardrooms, US sales teams, European professional firms, or Asia-Pacific regional offices, fear-based leadership produces silence, avoidance, and quiet departures. People stop admitting problems early because they fear the punishment. That means mistakes become hidden until they are much larger and harder to repair. Do now: Never discipline in anger. Pause, gather facts, and protect the person's dignity while still protecting the business. How should leaders investigate a mistake before responding? Leaders should begin with research, not rumours. They must gather facts, understand context, and avoid being manipulated by people who may have their own agenda. When someone says, "You won't believe what Tanaka has done now," the leader should be cautious. Sometimes the messenger is accurate. Sometimes they are positioning, blaming, exaggerating, or trying to damage a rival. Good leaders investigate before forming a view. What happened? Who was involved? What process failed? Was this a one-off error, a capability issue, a workload problem, a systems issue, or misconduct? For serious mistakes, leaders should quietly ask, "Is this person worth saving?" Do now: Separate evidence from opinion. Do not let the first emotional report become the official truth. Why should leaders begin mistake conversations with rapport? Leaders should begin with rapport because people listen better when they do not feel personally attacked. Honest appreciation lowers anxiety and keeps the conversation productive. This does not mean pretending the mistake is minor or avoiding the issue. It means starting with evidence-based appreciation for what the person has done well before moving into the problem. Dale Carnegie's Principle #22, "Begin with praise and honest appreciation," is practical here. The appreciation must be specific, not fluffy. For example, refer to a project they delivered, a client they helped, or a behaviour you have personally observed. This creates a fairer emotional climate for accountability. Do now: Start with credible appreciation, then move clearly and calmly to the issue that must be addressed. How do leaders discuss the mistake without attacking the person? Leaders should focus on the problem, not the human being. The goal is to depersonalise the issue while still making accountability clear. A good mistake conversation allows the employee to explain what happened first. Then the leader fills in gaps, corrects misunderstandings, and listens carefully for ownership. Are they accepting responsibility, or are they blaming everyone else? Dale Carnegie's Principle #24, "Talk about your own mistakes before criticising the other person," can reduce defensiveness and create psychological safety. The leader might say, "I have made mistakes under pressure too, so let's work through exactly what happened and what we need to fix." Do now: Use calm questions, active listening, and shared problem-solving. Do not label the person as careless, useless, or unreliable. What should leaders do when someone accepts accountability? When someone accepts accountability, the leader should restore, reassure, and retain them. The aim is to fix the problem, rebuild confidence, and keep a valuable person moving forward. If the person owns the mistake, the leader should appreciate that honesty and focus on recovery. What needs to be repaired? What support is required? What process must change so the mistake does not repeat? The individual may already feel embarrassed, anxious, or demotivated. Dale Carnegie's Principle #26, "Let the other person save face," and Principle #29, "Use encouragement. Make the fault seem easy to correct," are powerful in this moment. Accountability should become a bridge to improvement, not a trapdoor to humiliation. Do now: Thank them for taking responsibility, agree on corrective action, and make it clear they can recover. What should leaders do when someone refuses accountability? When someone refuses accountability, the leader must restate the facts, reinforce standards, and make consequences clear. Avoiding responsibility cannot be allowed to become normal behaviour. Some employees blame colleagues, deny evidence, or resist every attempt to help them recover. In that case, the leader should calmly restate the seriousness of the issue and reference company policy, compliance requirements, or performance standards. Dale Carnegie's Principle #28, "Give the other person a fine reputation to live up to," can help. For example: "I know you are professional enough to take accountability for your work, so let's recover from this properly." If resistance continues, formal next steps may be required. Do now: Be fair, factual, and firm. Give the person a chance to step up, but do not excuse persistent denial. When should leaders retain, move, or replace someone after a mistake? Leaders should retain people who accept accountability and can recover, but they may need to move or replace people who repeatedly deny responsibility or do not fit the role. The decision should be based on behaviour, capability, and future contribution. Sometimes the person is on the wrong bus. Sometimes they are on the right bus but in the wrong seat. If they have strengths that fit another area, a transfer may be the humane and commercially sensible option. If coaching, feedback, and support do not change the behaviour, release from the organisation may be necessary. This should not be framed as revenge. It may be better for the person to find work where they can succeed and contribute. Do now: Ask whether the person can realistically succeed in the current role. If not, consider reassignment before termination where appropriate. Final summary Mistake handling is not just about correcting one employee. It is about showing the whole team what kind of leader you are. Rage destroys trust. Rumours distort judgement. Personal attacks damage loyalty. Calm research, rapport, accountability, reassurance, and clear consequences protect both people and performance. The best leaders handle mistakes through a simple but demanding sequence: research, begin with rapport, identify the issue, restore those who accept accountability, reinforce standards with those who do not, and then decide whether to retain, move, or replace the person. FAQs Should leaders punish employees for mistakes? Leaders should not rush to punish mistakes; they should first understand the facts and the employee's accountability. Deliberate misconduct, repeated negligence, and honest errors require different responses. Why is public anger dangerous for leaders? Public anger teaches the team that mistakes are unsafe to discuss. That drives problems underground and damages trust, loyalty, and retention. What if the employee accepts responsibility? If the employee accepts responsibility, help them fix the problem and rebuild confidence. This is the moment to restore, reassure, and retain whenever possible. What if the employee blames everyone else? If the employee refuses accountability, restate the facts and make standards and consequences clear. Give them a chance to recover, but do not normalise avoidance. How do leaders protect psychological safety while maintaining standards? Leaders protect psychological safety by attacking the problem, not the person. They can be calm, respectful, and supportive while still insisting on accountability and improvement. Quick actions for leaders Pause before reacting to a mistake. Gather facts before forming a judgement. Begin the conversation with specific, honest appreciation. Focus on the issue, not the person's character. Listen for accountability. Reassure those who take responsibility. Reinforce standards with those who deny responsibility. Decide whether to retain, move, or replace based on behaviour and fit. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021, and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers: Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery, along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Salespeople often think the buyer's problem is the problem. It isn't. The real issue is whether the buyer feels the gap between where they are now and where they need to be is large enough, urgent enough, and costly enough to act on. In B2B sales, especially in Japan, Australia, the US, and Europe, buyers rarely move because a salesperson says, "You have a problem." They move when they convince themselves that doing nothing is too expensive. That is why the salesperson's questioning process matters more than the pitch. Why do buyers delay even when they have a clear need? Buyers delay because recognising a need and acting on that need are two completely different things. If the buyer thinks the current situation is "close enough" to the desired outcome, urgency disappears. In corporate sales, this happens inside SMEs, multinationals, startups, and large Japanese conglomerates. A sales leader may want higher conversion rates, a HR director may want stronger managers, or a CEO may want faster execution, but none of them will buy unless the perceived gap feels painful. Post-pandemic budget discipline has made this even sharper. Buyers must justify every investment against opportunity cost, risk, timing, and internal priorities. Do now: Don't assume a stated need equals buying intent. Help the buyer explore whether the cost of inaction is bigger than the cost of change. How can salespeople make the need gap feel urgent? Salespeople make the need gap urgent by asking questions that help buyers discover the consequences of delay for themselves. Telling buyers the gap is big sounds like sales talk; getting them to say it is powerful. This is where consultative selling, SPIN Selling, Dale Carnegie questioning skills, and modern discovery frameworks all overlap. The salesperson's job is not to lecture. The job is to guide the buyer from "we should probably improve this" to "we cannot afford to leave this as it is." In Japan, where consensus decision-making and risk avoidance are common, this self-discovery process is especially important because internal stakeholders need language they can repeat inside the organisation. Do now: Replace claims with questions. The buyer must verbalise the gap, the risk, and the timing. What is the best question to ask after discussing the buyer's future goal? After the buyer explains where they want to be, ask: "What happens if you can't get there fast enough?" That question quietly turns a future goal into a present business risk. Every executive wants progress faster than their current system allows. Sales teams want revenue growth now. HR teams want capable managers before turnover rises. Japanese firms facing labour shortages, digital transformation pressure, and global competition cannot wait forever. This question exposes the speed gap: the distance between the buyer's desired future and the organisation's current pace. It also creates a natural opening for your solution later, because you are no longer selling a product; you are helping them accelerate a business outcome. Do now: When buyers describe the "should be" state, immediately explore the consequences of not reaching it quickly enough. How do barrier questions widen the sales need gap? Barrier questions widen the need gap by forcing buyers to name the obstacle stopping them from reaching the desired future. Once the barrier is clear, the salesperson can ask what happens if that obstacle remains. A strong barrier question sounds like this: "If you know where you are now and you know where you want to be, why aren't you there yet?" This question works across sectors: manufacturing, technology, professional services, finance, healthcare, and education. The barrier might be skills, systems, leadership, budget, internal alignment, time, or confidence. The key follow-up is: "What happens if you cannot clear that obstacle?" Now the buyer is not discussing a vague improvement project. They are discussing the business impact of being stuck. Do now: Identify the obstacle, then explore the cost of failing to remove it. Why should buyers describe the problem instead of the salesperson? Buyers believe their own conclusions more than they believe a salesperson's assertions. If the salesperson says, "This is a big issue," the buyer discounts it; if the buyer says it, the issue becomes real. This is critical in sophisticated B2B selling. Procurement teams, executives, and department heads are trained to filter vendor enthusiasm. They expect exaggeration. They mentally mark down the salesperson's claims. But when the buyer explains the implications in their own words, the psychology changes. The conversation shifts from persuasion to ownership. In Japanese business culture, this is even more valuable because people often avoid direct confrontation or overt pressure. Thoughtful questioning lets the buyer reach the conclusion without losing face. Do now: Stop trying to prove the gap. Ask questions that let the buyer prove it to themselves. How does a wide need gap improve the final sales presentation? A wide need gap makes the final recommendation feel relevant, timely, and necessary. Your solution becomes the bridge between the buyer's current state and the future they have already said they need. Many sales presentations fail because they arrive too early. The salesperson starts explaining features, benefits, case studies, pricing, and implementation before the buyer has emotionally accepted the cost of staying still. Once the buyer has named the gap, the barrier, the urgency, and the consequence of inaction, the presentation becomes much simpler. You are no longer pushing. You are connecting your solution to the buyer's own stated priorities. That is a much stronger position in boardrooms, sales meetings, and executive conversations. Do now: Present only after the buyer has clearly articulated why doing nothing will not work. Conclusion The best salespeople do not create artificial pressure. They reveal real pressure that already exists. The buyer may have a need, but unless the need gap feels vast, urgent, and costly, they will stay where they are. In sales, the question is not, "Does the buyer have a problem?" The stronger question is, "Does the buyer believe the gap is too big to ignore?" When your questions help the buyer reach that conclusion, your solution becomes the obvious next step. Meta description: Learn how to widen the sales need gap using consultative questions that reveal urgency, opportunity cost, and the risk of inaction. Keywords: sales need gap, consultative selling, B2B sales questions, opportunity cost, sales discovery FAQs Why is the need gap important in sales? The need gap matters because buyers only act when the distance between their current state and desired future feels costly. A small perceived gap produces delay; a large perceived gap creates urgency. What question helps create urgency in a sales conversation? Ask, "What happens if you can't get there fast enough?" This helps buyers connect future goals with present risks. Why should salespeople avoid telling buyers the gap is big? Buyers often distrust direct salesperson claims because they expect persuasion. Questions are more effective because buyers trust conclusions they reach themselves. What is the barrier question in sales? The barrier question asks why the buyer has not already reached the desired future. It reveals the obstacle blocking progress and opens the door to discussing consequences. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021 and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Developing people should be a constant leadership responsibility, not an occasional HR exercise. The real leverage of leadership comes from building the capability of the team so the leader is not trying to personally carry the entire organisation on their back. Managers often work longer hours, solve every problem themselves, and wonder why they are exhausted. Leaders take a different path. They create direction, build the environment, and develop people so that ten capable team members can each contribute their full strength. In Japan, where HR departments are often administrative, rotational, and compliance-focused, the line leader must take people development seriously. Why is people development a leadership responsibility? People development belongs to the leader because the leader knows the team's work, context, strengths, and future needs best. HR can support training logistics, but it cannot replace the leader's daily responsibility to grow capability. In many Japanese companies, HR is not always staffed by long-term human resources specialists. Managers may rotate through HR from sales, export, audit, operations, or administration. That means HR often focuses on forms, leave records, job rotations, and internal process compliance. The leader must therefore guide the development agenda: what skills are needed, who needs exposure, where succession risk exists, and which people have future leadership potential. This is true in large corporations, SMEs, startups, and multinational Japan offices. Do now: Stop outsourcing people development to HR. Use HR as a partner, but own the development strategy yourself. How does mentoring develop employees more effectively? Mentoring develops people by giving them access to objective advice, broader perspective, and feedback that may be easier to accept from someone outside their reporting line. A mentor can sometimes say what the boss cannot. Mentoring is especially valuable when the mentor is not directly responsible for performance evaluation. In Japan's hierarchical workplace culture, employees may be guarded with their direct boss, particularly if they fear negative assessment. A neutral mentor can help them discuss career goals, blind spots, communication challenges, and leadership aspirations more openly. However, mentoring should not be a vague feel-good programme. Companies need to define outcomes: retention, promotion readiness, engagement, skill growth, cross-functional collaboration, or leadership bench strength. Do now: Create or review your mentoring system. Ask, "How do we measure whether this is actually developing people?" Why are job rotations and lateral assignments powerful in Japan? Job rotations, lateral transfers, temporary assignments, and acting roles develop broader business understanding and stronger internal networks. In Japan, where generalist career paths remain common, these tools can be especially powerful. A person who works only inside one department may become technically competent but organisationally narrow. Moving them temporarily into another division helps them understand different priorities, systems, constraints, and personalities. In Japanese companies, where informal relationships often determine how quickly work gets done across departments, these assignments build practical coordination power. Multinationals, SMEs, and professional services firms can use the same idea through secondments, regional projects, or temporary cross-border assignments. Do now: Identify one person who would benefit from a temporary assignment outside their usual function, then define what they must learn from it. How does cross-training reduce business risk? Cross-training protects the organisation from concentration risk when one key person becomes unavailable. If one employee's sudden departure would cause a disaster, the organisation has a leadership problem, not just a staffing problem. Many small and mid-sized businesses discover this too late. One person knows the accounting process, logistics system, client history, CRM workflow, supplier relationship, or reporting routine. Then that person resigns, becomes ill, transfers, or retires, and the business scrambles. Cross-training creates operational insurance. It does not mean everyone must do every job. It means critical tasks have backup capability, documented processes, and at least one trained substitute. Post-pandemic labour mobility and ageing-workforce pressures make this even more important in Japan. Do now: List your five most critical roles or tasks. For each one, ask, "Who can do this tomorrow if the main person disappears?" How can special projects grow future leaders? Special projects, task forces, and committee assignments give employees first-hand experience of leadership pressure, coordination, and accountability. They reveal both potential and skill gaps. It is easy to criticise the boss until you are the one responsible for deadlines, stakeholders, budgets, internal politics, and final results. Project assignments let future leaders experience this reality without immediately placing them in a permanent management role. They develop planning, communication, conflict resolution, influence, and decision-making. In global firms, this may happen through digital transformation projects, ESG committees, client task forces, or regional initiatives. The key question is whether these assignments are strategic development tools or just stopgap labour solutions. Do now: Turn project assignments into deliberate development opportunities with clear learning goals, feedback, and post-project review. Why is shadowing senior leaders such a strong development technique? Shadowing senior leaders helps emerging talent see the whole organisation, not just their narrow functional role. It exposes them to decision-making complexity, leadership style, trade-offs, and executive pressure. Becoming an assistant to a senior leader, chief of staff, understudy, or section head-in-training can be a powerful development experience. The employee sees how strategy, finance, people issues, clients, compliance, and culture connect. They also observe the good, the bad, and the ugly of leadership behaviour. In Japan, where leadership handovers can be rushed because of rotations, a planned understudy system can strengthen succession planning. The problem is not that the idea is complicated. The problem is that busy leaders forget to organise it. Do now: Choose one promising team member who could shadow a leader, attend selected meetings, or act as understudy for a defined period. Final summary People development is not a luxury item to be handled when the calendar is quiet. It is the leader's leverage strategy. Mentoring, rotation, temporary assignments, cross-training, task forces, special projects, senior leader shadowing, and understudy roles all help build stronger teams and deeper succession pipelines. The real question is not whether these techniques are new. Most leaders already know them. The question is whether they are using them consistently, strategically, and early enough to avoid business disruption. FAQs Is people development the job of HR or the leader? People development is the leader's job, while HR should support the process. HR can organise providers, systems, and budgets, but the leader knows the team's practical development needs. Why is cross-training important? Cross-training reduces business risk by ensuring critical work does not depend on one person. It protects continuity when someone resigns, transfers, becomes ill, or is suddenly unavailable. What is the value of mentoring? Mentoring gives employees objective guidance and a safe place to discuss growth. It works especially well when the mentor is outside the employee's direct reporting line. How do project assignments develop leadership skills? Projects force people to practise coordination, decision-making, communication, and accountability. They show employees what leadership pressure feels like before they take on a formal management role. Quick actions for leaders Map your team's critical skills and backup gaps. Build mentoring into the development system. Use rotations and temporary assignments to broaden experience. Create project roles with clear development goals. Let future leaders shadow senior decision-makers. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021, and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers: Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery, along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

Motivating people is not about shouting slogans, pushing harder, or demanding enthusiasm on command. Real leadership motivation comes from building relationships, shaping culture, and creating a work environment where people can motivate themselves. For leaders in Japan, Australia, the United States, Europe, and across Asia-Pacific, this is now a central management challenge. Post-pandemic teams expect trust, flexibility, psychological safety, and career development, not command-and-control supervision. The leader's job is to know people deeply enough to understand what drives their effort, loyalty, creativity, and pride. How do leaders motivate people without forcing motivation? Leaders motivate people by creating the right environment, relationship, and culture for self-motivation to emerge.Telling someone to "be motivated" is about as useful as yelling at a plant to grow faster. In organisations from Toyota and Rakuten in Japan to global firms like Microsoft, Salesforce, and Unilever, the best leaders understand that motivation is personal. Some people want mastery, some want recognition, some want autonomy, and others want security, promotion, purpose, or belonging. The leader's role is not to manufacture motivation like a factory output. It is to remove friction, clarify meaning, and connect individual aspirations with company goals. Do now: Stop asking, "How do I motivate my people?" Start asking, "What environment would help each person motivate themselves?" Why do managers fail to really know their people? Most managers only know their people at a surface level because they are busy, task-driven, and overly dependent on formal reviews. They may know job titles and KPIs, but not the person behind the role. Many leaders interview team members when they first take over a department, then slip back into meetings, deadlines, dashboards, and performance reviews. In Japanese companies, multinational regional offices, startups, and SMEs alike, this creates a polite but shallow relationship. The manager knows what people do, but not why they care, what frustrates them, what they value, or where they want to go. Performance reviews rarely reveal this because employees often protect themselves in formal settings. Do now: Replace one purely transactional check-in each week with a genuine conversation about work, goals, interests, or career direction. What is an "innerview" and how is it different from an interview? An innerview is a gradual, trust-based way of understanding a person from the inside, not a one-off managerial interview. It happens through casual, authentic conversations over time. An interview is usually structured, scheduled, and often linked to hiring, onboarding, or performance management. An innerview is different. It may happen over coffee, lunch, a short walk, or a relaxed conversation after a meeting. The leader has intention, but not manipulation. The aim is to understand what matters to the team member so the leader can help them succeed. This matters in post-pandemic workplaces where retention, engagement, hybrid work, and career mobility are constant issues. Do now: Build a habit of small, natural conversations. Do not turn curiosity into interrogation, and do not use personal information as leverage. What questions help leaders understand employees better? Leaders should start with factual questions, then gradually move toward deeper causative and values-based questions. Trust determines how deep the conversation can go. Factual questions explore background: where someone grew up, studied, travelled, worked, or developed interests. These are not checklist questions; they should surface naturally. Causative questions go deeper: why they chose a career path, why they left a previous company, why a hobby matters, or what kind of work gives them energy. Values-based questions are deeper again, touching pride, regret, mentors, resilience, fairness, ambition, and contribution. In cultures with strong privacy norms, including Japan, timing and tone matter enormously. Do now: Use three levels of curiosity: facts for context, "why" questions for motivation, and values questions only after trust exists. Why are values so important in leadership motivation? Values reveal whether a person's deepest drivers align with the leader, the team, and the organisation. Without values alignment, motivation becomes fragile and short-term. A person may accept a job for salary, title, brand prestige, or convenience, but they usually stay engaged because the work connects with something deeper. That may be craftsmanship, customer impact, learning, family security, social contribution, professional pride, or loyalty to colleagues. Leaders who understand these values can assign work, give recognition, coach performance, and discuss career paths more effectively. Leaders who ignore values often rely on money, pressure, or fear, which rarely builds sustainable performance. Do now: Ask reflective questions such as, "What work are you most proud of?" or "What advice would you give someone going through a tough patch?" How can leaders avoid sounding manipulative when getting to know staff? The difference between care and manipulation is intention, or what Japanese leadership thinking might call kokorogamae. People quickly sense whether a leader is genuinely trying to help or merely trying to use them. If a manager asks personal questions to extract productivity, employees will feel it. If the manager asks because they want to create common ground, understand aspirations, and support career growth, the relationship strengthens. Time, place, and occasion are critical. A rushed corridor question before a deadline is not the same as a thoughtful conversation over coffee. Leaders need patience. They should not force intimacy, overstep privacy, or convert every conversation into a management tactic. Do now: Check your intention before every deeper conversation. Ask yourself, "Am I trying to help this person grow, or simply trying to get more out of them?" Final summary Motivation is not a speech, slogan, or performance-review checkbox. It is the result of leadership trust, cultural design, and personal understanding. When leaders know their people beyond job descriptions and KPIs, they can create conditions where employees choose to bring more effort, ownership, and creativity to the work. The practical leadership shift is simple but demanding: move from interview to innerview. Learn facts, explore causes, understand values, and hold every conversation with the right intention. FAQs Can leaders really motivate employees? Leaders cannot force motivation, but they can create the conditions where motivation becomes more likely. That means building trust, clarifying purpose, removing obstacles, and connecting work to personal goals. What is the best way to understand employee motivation? The best way is through consistent, casual, trust-based conversations over time. Formal reviews help with performance tracking, but deeper motivation usually emerges through natural dialogue. Why are values-based questions sensitive? Values-based questions touch identity, pride, regret, ambition, and belief, so they require trust. Leaders should build up gradually through factual and causative conversations first. Is this approach relevant in Japan? Yes, especially because trust, intention, and relationship quality are central to effective leadership in Japan. The idea of kokorogamae reinforces the importance of sincere purpose behind the conversation. Quick actions for leaders Schedule more informal one-on-one conversations. Ask fewer checklist questions and more thoughtful "why" questions. Listen for values, not just tasks and complaints. Avoid rushing trust. Use what you learn to support career growth, not to manipulate output. Author Bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" in 2018 and 2021, and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award in 2012. As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programmes, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers: Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery, along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō（ザ営業）, Purezen no Tatsujin（プレゼンの達人）, Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō（トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう）, and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā（現代版「人を動かす」リーダー）. Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

"When you show honesty or your best effort, then people finally recognise you." "You have to find a way to go directly to the consumer and get insight from them." "You respect people. You respect where they come from, the knowledge they have of the business, and you try to learn." "To be innovative, you need a driving force from the top." "Right shooting always results in a hit." Jerome Chouchan is President of Godiva Japan and a long-serving international executive with a distinctive career arc across premium brands, retail, gifting, food, and Japanese business culture. Originally from France, he first came to Japan at the age of 25 through a French programme that allowed young graduates to work overseas for private companies in export development. His first assignment was with Mellerio, a high jewellery company based on the Rue de la Paix in Paris, where he opened the Japan office and built the business through department store partnerships and shop-in-shop operations. He later moved to Lacoste, managing licensing and brand coordination, and then to Hennessy, where he was responsible for the Japan business unit while based in France and travelling regularly between France and Japan. His first fully integrated P&L leadership role in Japan came with Lladró, the Spanish porcelain figurine brand, in a joint venture involving Mitsui & Co. There, he led a team of around 70 people and developed major market innovations, including porcelain versions of traditional Japanese Boys' Day and Girls' Day figurines. At Godiva Japan, Chouchan brought together his experience in premium branding, retail channels, Japanese gifting culture, consumer insight, and bold strategic execution. Under his leadership, Godiva Japan tripled its business in seven years, expanded into new channels such as convenience stores for premium ice cream, and created high-impact campaigns such as the famous "stop giving giri choco" Valentine's message. His leadership is also deeply shaped by more than 30 years of kyudo, Japanese archery, and by the principle that correct form, discipline, and intent produce the right result. Jerome Chouchan's leadership journey in Japan is a story of adaptability, cultural sensitivity, consumer insight, and disciplined boldness. Arriving in Japan at only 25 years old, without Japanese language ability and without a large team around him, he began his career in a challenging environment where youth and foreignness could easily have undermined credibility. His early experience opening the Japan office for Mellerio taught him a central lesson about leadership in Japan: respect is earned through sincerity, effort, and presence. In a culture where age, hierarchy, and experience carry weight, Chouchan learned that honesty and visible commitment can overcome initial scepticism. Across his career, he repeatedly entered industries where he was not the obvious candidate. Jewellery, fashion, cognac, porcelain figurines, and chocolate all appear different on the surface, yet Chouchan identified the connecting threads: brand authenticity, retail, gifting, craftsmanship, and emotional value. This ability to recognise deeper patterns helped him move successfully from one sector to another. At Lladró, he discovered that innovation in Japan does not always come from importing foreign ideas. Sometimes it comes from seeing Japanese culture with fresh eyes. By observing Hinamatsuri and Boys' Day figurines as part of the same emotional and decorative category as porcelain, he helped create a new product concept that Japanese department store buyers initially doubted, but consumers embraced. His approach to leadership has consistently centred on the gemba: the real place where customers, staff, and business reality meet. Whether selling porcelain pieces himself in department store exhibitions or visiting Godiva stores with his team, Chouchan demonstrates that leaders must understand the front line directly. This is especially important in Japan, where teams quickly sense whether a leader respects their work or merely issues instructions from above. For foreign executives, the first three months are decisive. Asking questions, visiting customers, learning the business, and showing the ability to make decisions are essential to building trust. At Godiva Japan, Chouchan inherited an established brand that many outsiders thought had limited room for further growth. Instead, he saw untapped potential. His decision to concentrate marketing investment on television for Valentine's Day challenged internal assumptions that premium brands should avoid mass media. The result was immediate growth and increased credibility. His move to sell Godiva premium ice cream through convenience stores provoked similar concerns about brand dilution, but his logic was based on consumer behaviour: if most ice cream in Japan is bought in convenience stores, premium ice cream should be where the consumers are. Perhaps his most famous move was the "stop giving giri choco" Valentine's campaign, which challenged the social obligation of women giving chocolates to male colleagues. The campaign was not anti-gifting; it was pro-authenticity. It reframed gifting as something meaningful rather than automatic. The impact extended far beyond paid media, generating television discussion, social debate, and pride among female employees. Chouchan's leadership philosophy is also shaped by kyudo. In Japanese archery, one does not obsess over the target; one focuses on correct form. For Chouchan, this became a business metaphor. Rather than anxiously chasing numbers every day, leaders should focus on the right products, the right customer insight, the right culture, and the right execution. If the form is correct, the target will be hit. Q&A Summary What makes leadership in Japan unique? Leadership in Japan requires close attention to trust, hierarchy, non-verbal signals, and the first impression a leader creates. Jerome Chouchan explains that Japanese teams are highly skilled at sensing whether a leader respects them or looks down on them. This judgement can happen quickly and accurately. For foreign executives, credibility does not come automatically from title or headquarters appointment. It comes from going to the gemba, asking questions, respecting existing knowledge, learning from the team, and showing a willingness to work hard alongside others. Why do global executives struggle? Global executives often struggle because they underestimate the importance of local context, consumer behaviour, and internal consensus. Japan is not a market where a leader can simply impose a global template and expect smooth execution. Concepts such as nemawashi, ringi-sho, consensus, and uncertainty avoidance influence how decisions are understood and accepted. Chouchan's experience shows that leaders must balance respect for process with the courage to decide. If a leader only seeks harmony, the business can become slow. If a leader ignores local reality, trust is lost. Is Japan truly risk-averse? Chouchan's career suggests that Japan is not simply risk-averse; rather, it is highly sensitive to poorly framed risk. Department store buyers initially doubted Lladró's Japanese festival figurines because they questioned why a Spanish brand should reinterpret a Japanese tradition. Godiva Japan staff questioned whether premium ice cream should be sold in convenience stores. These reactions reflected concern over brand positioning and uncertainty, not a rejection of innovation itself. When Chouchan reframed the decision around consumer behaviour, premium pricing, channel logic, and controlled experimentation, the risk became manageable. What leadership style actually works? The leadership style that works is respectful, decisive, optimistic, and deeply engaged with the front line. Chouchan believes leaders must give people hope and show a positive way forward. He does not advocate reckless disruption. Instead, he combines listening with conviction. He asks questions, observes the market, protects his team when pushing back against headquarters, and makes decisions when needed. He also recognises that not everyone can innovate while running the core business. This led him to create a transformation unit separate from the day-to-day machine, giving younger and more entrepreneurial people space to create new products quickly. How can technology help? Although the interview focuses more on leadership and innovation than on technology itself, Chouchan's approach aligns closely with modern decision intelligence. He uses consumer insight, data, scenario thinking, and experimentation to reduce uncertainty. His channel decision for Godiva ice cream was based on understanding where consumers actually buy ice cream. His transformation unit operates with a faster, more iterative model, closer to digital-native thinking than traditional product development. In the future, tools such as digital twins, AI-driven consumer modelling, and advanced demand forecasting could further support this kind of leadership by allowing companies to test assumptions before large-scale execution. Does language proficiency matter? Japanese proficiency helps, but Chouchan does not present fluency as an absolute requirement. His view is that learning even some Japanese opens the mind and brings a leader closer to the country. The attitude matters. A foreign leader who learns words, listens carefully, and shows interest in Japanese culture sends a positive signal. Language is not only a communication tool; it is also a gesture of respect. In Japan, that gesture can strengthen trust and engagement. What's the ultimate leadership lesson? The ultimate lesson is to focus on correct form rather than obsessing over the target. Drawing from kyudo, Chouchan explains that in Japanese archery, the archer does not aim anxiously at the target. Instead, the archer focuses on the correct mental and physical form. In business, this means concentrating on the consumer, the product, the campaign, the culture, and the execution. Numbers matter, but they are outcomes. "Right shooting always results in a hit" becomes a leadership philosophy: do the right things in the right way, and results will follow. Author Credentials Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have also been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー). In addition to his books, Greg publishes daily blogs on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, offering practical insights on leadership, communication, and Japanese business culture. He is also the host of six weekly podcasts, including The Leadership Japan Series, The Sales Japan Series, The Presentations Japan Series, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews. On YouTube, he produces three weekly shows — The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews — which have become leading resources for executives seeking strategies for success in Japan.

Last episode we briefly talked about what happened when Ōama passed away, including the apparent conspiracy around the Royal Prince Ōtsu, and then the question as to why his son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, didn't then succeed him to the throne. This episode we are taking a look at that period, but more focused on the rituals and what went into a royal funeral, and then take a look all the way to the eventual ascension to the throne of not Crown Prince Kusakabe, but instead his mother, Ōama's queen, Uno no Sarara. She would eventually be known as Jitō Tennō. For photos and links to other episodes, check out our blog post: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-148   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 148: A Nation Mourns Crown Prince Kusakabe approached the temporary palace structure that had been hastily assembled in the courtyard in front of the Kiyomihara Palace.   Solemnly arrayed around him, dressed in their court garments, were the ministers and government officials.  Together, they approached the palace building, where the Crown Prince's father, Ohoama, also known as Ame no Nunahara oki no Mabito, lay in state.  He had passed away, and according to the imported Confucian values of filial piety, Kusakabe was now expected to mourn in ritual fashion. The court ritualists had seen to every detail of what should be done and even said, to the extent that the crown prince's actions almost felt like a performance of grief, rather than a heartfelt tribute.  And yet, Kusakabe could not help but feel some emotion at the sight of his father, once the most powerful man under heaven, now laid out in this place of temporary interment.  There would be many more ceremonies and rituals before the final mausoleum would be built and the former sovereign's body finally laid to rest.  Until then, even though Ohoama's spirit had left, his body would remain as a symbol to the people, and as the centerpiece of an elaborate ritual, designed, in part, to continue to bolster the state he had helped to create.   Last episode we went into some of the shenanigans around the death of Ohoama and the succession to the throne.  As we saw, not everyone was apparently on board with the idea that Crown Prince Kusakabe would take the throne, leading to the arrest and execution of Prince Ohotsu.  However, we noted that Crown Prince Kusakabe didn't end up on the throne after all: for whatever reason, he never ascended to the honor, and died in 689 – not even three years after the death of his father.  And so we saw Uno no Sarara, Ohoama's wife and queen and mother of Crown Prince Kusakabe, formally take the reins of state and go on to reign as the sovereign, the Sumera Mikoto, or Tennou, until 697.  From there she would become the first ever Retired Sovereign, keeping her hand in government until her death in 703. This episode we are going to look a little more in depth regarding everything that went on around Ohoama's death and the various rites accompanying his passing. Ohoama's was obviously not the first royal death that we have seen in the Chronicles.  It is perhaps, however, one of the best documented in terms of the funerary arrangements and the various rituals that accompanied his passing.  Some of those arrangements are mentioned previously in the Chronicles, but not to the same extent as we see for Ohoama.  This leaves me wondering: are we seeing something novel—new rites for a new type of sovereign, perhaps?  Or was this just the first time the ritual had been documented to this level of detail?. Before jumping into what we see this time around, we should probably look back at what we have seen around the death of previous sovereigns, and which are still going on here.  First and foremost is the creation—or at least the designation—of a "Palace of Temporary Interment".    This is the Mogari no Miya, with "mogari" being the term for the period between an individual's death and their eventual burial.  In the Nihon Shoki we see this practice go back to the earliest times.  After all, most deaths do not occur on a set schedule, and once someone has passed away, funerary arrangements would need to be made.  Now, if all you are doing is putting a body into a box and lowering it into the ground, you can probably bring it all together rather quickly. However, for centuries the burial practices on the archipelago had been significantly more elaborate.  Even those without royal blood might be afforded a special mound, or kofun.  There would be giant stones selected to create the chamber, and then tons of earth and pebbles placed on top.  There might also be haniwa—clay cylinders—which then might even be topped with special figures.  All of this had to be planned out and taken care of, and in some cases, such as the creation of haniwa, it appears as there was a major industry involved in funerary preparations. In the case of royal family members things got even more elaborate, and based on the size of many of the kofun that we see one can assume that their construction took time.  In fact, I would not be surprised if the construction of a new tomb mound might not have kicked off on or near the ascension of the sovereign just to make sure it would be ready, but even still it would take time for all of the rites associated with a royal burial to be ready to go. And so it was common practice that one would have to wait before a burial could actually take place.  Since you couldn't just leave a body out in the open in the community, the corpse would be deposited, instead, in a temporary building.  These are sometimes referred to as mogari huts,  which would likely be placed well away from others.  Here we should also take into account the general pollution associated with death in its various forms.  So you would want to have the body kept out of sight and away from people as best you could while you prepared for the actual burial at some later date.  For sovereigns, this mogari hut, or hut of temporary interment, was eventually referred to as a "miya", or "palace".  In some cases it seems as if one of the buildings of the sovereign's old palace was used for this purpose, while a new palace was then also built for the new reign. In addition to the place of temporary interment, one of the common traditions we see in funerals in the Chronicles is the role of the eulogy.  While a person lay in state during their temporary interment, we are told that people could come to eulogize and lament.  In the case of a sovereign, the high ministers and politically connected would come together and deliver speeches.  This served multiple purposes.  On the one hand, these rituals reinforced concepts of the State and the central authority in the body of the sovereign.  On the other hand, they also served as markers of status for those delivering the speeches, and provided opportunities to be seen and heard, signaling their support of the system that provided them their own power and authority. So all of this  process and ritual that we see for Ohoama is familiar, from previous royal deaths.  However, it's interesting to note that in the most recent years before Ohoama's funeral, a lot of these traditions seem to have been scaled back.  For one thing, there was the decline of large, keyhole shaped kofun, ever since the introduction of Buddhism in the 6th century and the move to memorial temples over large tombs. Furthermore, as part of the Taika era reforms we see regulations on how long temporary interment may last for those of princely rank and below—though nothing is clearly stated for the sovereign themselves.    Let's look at the most recent royal death's before Ohoama's, but since the beginning of the Taika era.  There are at least three we've talked about.  First off is the death of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou.  Karu's death is barely remarked upon—he was buried about two months after he passed away, and very little fanfare is given.  One can't help but wonder if this was, in part at least, due to the fact that Naka no Oe was actually in charge and running things at the Crown Prince. Takara hime, aka Saimei Tennou, would pass away in the middle of the Baekje war against the Silla-Tang alliance.  Her body was sent back to Yamato, but the Crown Prince and many of the elites established themselves in Tsukushi—modern Kyushu—to better conduct the war on the peninsula.  Not only was her interment thus delayed, but Naka no Oe's own ascension wouldn't take place for several more years, possibly because of the new capital he was building in Ohotsu.  Naka no Oe's own funerary arrangements were interrupted by the events of the Jinshin no Ran.  In fact, the building of his tumulus was used by the government as a cover to bring in soldiers to prepare for the conflict.  There may have been various funerary rituals planned or even carried out by the Afumi court, but if so they were overshadowed by the civil war that broke out between the two claimants to the throne. As such, Ohoama's appears to be the first royal funeral of this magnitude in a while, and in this case they really pulled out all the stops.  There were various activities and rituals associated with Ohoama's passing up through the 11th month of 688, over two years later, when he was finally buried.  So let's go over what happened and maybe what dragged it out so much longer. First off were the immediate lamentations and eulogies.  Ohoama passed away on the 9th day of the 9th month, according to the Nihon Shoki.  It was the year 686 according to the western calendar.  Two months later the erection of the temporary palace of interment began in the southern courtyard—presumably the area south of the Asuka Kiyomihara palace, where they had previously held the various archery competitions. This took a couple of weeks, and Ohoama's body was finally placed in the temporary palace as of the 24th of that month. While ritual lamentations were raised at the start of the building of the mogari palace and when the sovereign's body was interred, the major rites appear to have started three days after he was laid to rest, on the 27th day,  proceeding for the next three days, from the 27th until the 30th. The rites started with Buddhist monks and nuns who arrived before sunrise and began to perform lamentations in the courtyard of the mogari.  Later that day, we see food offerings, apparently for the first time in the Chronicles. Offering food to the dead is not unique to Japan.  Some in Japan will offer food to their ancestors, especially during the Obon festival.  People will also offer food to kami.  In the case of Obon, a bowl of rice is often served with two chopsticks sticking straight out of it.  This has actually led to a social taboo on leaving your chopsticks "stuck" in food, as it looks as though you are offering the food up to the dead.  Instead, chopsticks will be placed on a chopstick rest, on the table, or even across the top of a dish, just not sticking up out of the food, especially the rice. In this case it isn't clear exactly how the food offering was done, nor what happened to the food afterwards.  In the case of food offered to the kami, it is often the case that once the kami have had enough time to partake of the aura of the food—its spiritual essence—the food will then be removed and often consumed by people.  So for Ohoama's funerary offerings, something similar may have happened—possibly with a feast of some kind to which the various nobles were also invited. Along with the offering of food, we are told of a whole list of individuals who gave eulogies—though we aren't told what the content was.  It is likely that these eulogies were largely ritual utterances—stock phrasing by the participant to demonstrate their active performance of the rituals, rather than a deeply thought sermon about the sovereign.  After all, this seems to have gone on at a rather constant pace for the next several days.  The ritual order seems to have stayed the same, with priests and nuns kicking things off with lamentations in the courtyard, and various nobles presenting their eulogy.  The third day, the 29th, was the same. On the fourth day, the 30th, the last day of the month, the priests and nuns raised lament, and the eulogies were given by a Baekje prince in exile, on behalf of his father, as well as the various Miyatsuko of the various provinces.  In addition there were all performances of all manner of singing and dancing—which makes it sound more like a wake than anything else. With the close of the 9th month, we have a break in the tale of Ohoama's funeral, as the narrative switches over to the next part of the Chronicles covering the reign of Uno no Sarara, aka Jitou Tennou.  The first order of business—other than telling us who Uno no Sarara was and covering some of her history—was to deal with the Prince Ohotsu conspiracy.  So we see Prince Ohotsu arrested, along with 30 conspirators.  Prince Ohotsu was killed at his residence, where his wife and consort ran to him and took her own life as well.  That all happened the 2nd and 3rd days of the 10th month.  The 30 co-conspirators were apparently held for about twenty-seven days while the court debated what to do with them.  Finally, the decree was made to pardon all except Toki no MIchidzukuri, who was only banished instead of executed, and the monk Heng-sin, who was exiled to a temple in Hida, over on Kyushu.  The month after that, Ohotsu's sister, Royal Princess Ohoku, returned to the capital from Ise Shrine where she had been serving as the Shrine Princess—though we aren't told who replaced her. And so it isn't until the twelfth month that we see what appears to be the rites for Ohoama's passing seem to resume.  This takes the form of a universal great assembly held in Ohoama's name at the Five temples, listed as Daikandaiji, Asukadera, Kawaradera, Toyoradera in Woharida, and Sakadadera.  This is an interesting list, as one would have expected that the rites would have occurred at the National Temples established previously—for more on the National temples, we talked about that back in Episode 142.. Daikandaiji, Asukadera, and Kawaradera were, of course, national temples.  Yakushiji is not mentioned, probably because it was still under construction.  At this date it's only been dedicated, and we won't see it show up in the Chronicles until 688—a year and change from the current gathering.  Toyoradera was the nunnery of Toyoura temple, and Sakada temple appears to be another nunnery, formerly known as Kongoji.  It is said to have been in MInabuchi, and ruins of a temple are found in the southeast of Asuka, in an area known today as, funnily enough, Sakada.  There is also a modern temple known as Kongoji nearby, though I can't tell if there is any connection between the two other than the name— whether its a true successor temple or just given that name because of the proximity of the ruins. Either way, in this phase of the funerary rites, we have a combination of temples and nunneries involved.  I wonder if that was so that men and women could gather in spaces for them.  Either way, it is clear that these rites  were held specifically to build merit for Ohoama.  This was probably also the intent behind the actions of the court a week later, when presents of cloth and silk were made to orphans, as well as childless, widowed, and elderly men and women of the capital—those who didn't have someone else to look after them or who were assumed to not have a stable income. Come the first day of the new year of 687, we see a return to the palace of temporary interment, and this time it is in a new and different fashion.  We are told that the Crown Prince, accompanied by ministers and public functionaries, proceeded to the Palace of Temporary Interments and made lament.  We are told that it was the Nagon, Fuwe no Ason no Miaruji, who performed the eulogy, after which everyone once again raised a lament.  Then the common people raised a lament.  Then Ki no Ason and others of the High Stewards of the Palace made food offerings.  After this, the Uneme of the Steward's department raised a lament and then music was performed by the officials of the Department of Music. This clearly indicates an involved ceremony, with set roles and functions.  It is being headed by Ohoama's son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, and attended by all the high ministers, and it is being held on the first of the year in place of other festivities for that day.  Other than the timing, the basic pattern of events is similar to the other rituals of lamentation.  .  The contents of the ceremony might be different, and it was always someone new who was chosen to give the formal eulogy, but there does seem to be some ritual and pattern to the rites performed.  For major ceremonies, we are told of the Crown Prince, the ministers, and the various public functionaries who are there, in attendance, but in other instances we are just told of who is providing the lamentations or the eulogy.  For example, on the 5th day of the first month—four months after the big ceremony, we are told that everyone—Crown Prince down to the common people—proceeded to the Palace of temporary interment and made lamentations. Either way, the period for the next year and change is filled with various ceremonies either at the palace of temporary interment, where Ohoama's body lay in state, or elsewhere in the capital, such as at various temples.  There were also various gifts from the court.  All of this was as much political spectacle as it was grieving.  There are some suggestions that, according to Confucian tradition, a son was expected to mourn the loss of his father for up to three years.  So perhaps that is part of what was happening—the royal family was participating in some costly signaling to both raise Ohoama—and thus, themselves—up on a pedestal and to try to demonstrate the virtue of Crown Prince Kusakabe.  After all, the Queen and her son had been effectively running the government before Ohoama had passed, so it wasn't like there was any actual change and only minor risk.  The timeframe also allowed the court time to send messengers out to inform the far reaches of the archipelago of Ohoama's passing and give them time to come and do homage.  They even sent messengers to Silla, no doubt to both let them know about what had happened and possibly to solicit a condolence embassy.  All of that would also play into the pageantry and mythmaking of the moment, further strengthening the position of the Yamato court, which was, of course, under the control of Uno no Sarara and her son. And so we see numerous, and quite public, displays.  Besides the lamentations and the eulogies, we see repeated gifts to the underprivileged, like giving gifts of coarse and floss silk to those residents of the Capital who were at least 80 years old, as well as to invalids with little hope as well as to the poor people who had no other means to support themselves.  All of it being done in Ohoama's name, even though the reputation no doubt was actually accruing to his son and widow. In the third month we see a special mention: an ornamental chaplet of flowers, known as a mikage, was offered at the Palace of Temporary Interment.  Today, flowers are often found in abundance at Japanese funerals.  Certain flowers may be "gifted" to the deceased as a last gift from mourners, and large, elaborate flower constructions are often used to decorate the funeral parlor where the corpse is laid out.  Groups and individuals may pay exorbitant sums to place flowers with a name card indicating who donated it, and some flowers may be for the grieving family to take home.  There are meanings behind the type of flowers, and often white flowers are preferred, as white is often seen as the color of death.  Some of this appears to be influenced by the West, but flowers have long been symbols and used in various ceremonies and rites.  It is possible that some of this was influenced by Buddhist and Tang court rituals.  Or maybe they just wanted something that was sweet smelling to help cover up the inevitable odor that no doubt resulted from leaving a body out for about six months at that point. Whatever the purpose, we aren't given too many details on just what this floral display was.  Aston calls the "mikage" a "chaplet" and Bentley simply describes it as decorative flowers placed at the mogari palace—the palace of temporary interment.  Once the flowers were placed, then Taji no Mabito no Maro performed the ceremony of the eulogy. Next, in the 5th month, we see the Crown Prince and various government officials once again involved.  This time they were accompanied by the chiefs of the Hayato and the Ata of Ohosumi, accompanied by their people, advancing and providing a eulogy.  The Hayato and the Ata were both indigenous groups of people from southern Kyushu, who were considered to be outside of the Yamato polity, with distinct cultural differences.  It is unclear if they were ethnically Wa people.  Evidence from that area suggests that the people there, whatever their ethnicity, had adopted many of the Yayoi and Kofun cultural life-ways.  This was not without some differences, such as distinct burial practices, such as underground burial chambers.  Hayato were also known in Yamato for their shields, which are often depicted as long, thin pentagonal shapes with red, white, and black figural paintings. The propaganda-slash-merit making continued over the next few months.  In the 6th month we see an amnesty, where criminals were pardoned, and in the 7th month the court unilaterally cancelled out any interest on debts contracted in the year 685 or earlier.  In cases where the debtors already owed service to their creditors, for some reason, they made it so that the creditors could not demand that they provide additional service.  People still had to pay back the balance, but they didn't have to pay back anything extra. The next ceremony at the palace of temporary interment wasn't for about three months later, in the 8th month of 687.  We are told that offerings of food were made, and that only awokimono—green things—were offered.  Bentley translates this passage to say that it was the feast of first fruits, the Niinamesai, and they do use the character for "namé", but not the full name.  As for "Awokimono" – Aston translates this as plain, boiled rice, and says it is meant that it was without meat of any kind.  Indeed, the characters appear to be for blue or green cooked rice.  There is another reading for "Awokimono" as "Hijikioono", and Aston suggests that there may have been some hijiki, or seaweed, involved.  Regardless this appears to have been specifically a funerary tradition. A day after the food was offered—and we aren't told who did that—the elderly people of the capital, both men and women—some possibly with new duds thanks to the silk they had received earlier—came and made lamentation west of the bridge.  I suspect that this means they didn't enter the actual courtyard where the palace of temporary interment was set up, but simply gathered on the west side of the Asuka River, which flowed past the west side of the courtyard.  Later that month, we see another Buddhist ceremony.  Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima and Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo invited 300 Buddhist dignitaries, known as Ryuuzou and Daitoku, to Asukadera.  There they gave each one of them the present of a kesa—a Buddhist sash worn as part of their vestments.   Kesa were typically stitched together from cloth donated by Buddhist laypersons, and we are told that these kesa were made from the garments of the late sovereign.  The language of the decree itself was apparently so painful—Aston translates it as pathetic—that it couldn't be fully set forth.  That sounds to me like someone forgot to write it down. Eleven days after the assembly at Asukadera, a national Buddhist feast was sponsored at all of the Temples in the capital.  The day after that, a feast was sponsored at the mogari palace. Later that same month, Silla ambassadors arrived at the archipelago.  The Dazai, the viceroy of Tsukushi, met with them and informed them of what had happened.  It is likely that they had left before any word had reached the peninsula, so this was the first they heard of it.  Nonetheless, they all put on mourning clothes, turned to face the East, and bowed three times and raised lamentations.  This was all being done in Kyushu, but nonetheless it was clearly important to the people who were recording these interactions. A similar note in the record appears on the 23rd day of the first month of the following year, where we are told that Ohoama's death was announced to the Silla ambassador, Gim Sangnim, and his colleagues.  They, in turn, made their lament three times.  It is possible that these are records of the same event, and I even wonder if one was recorded on the date they arrived and the other was recorded on the date that they were formally told what was happening.  Either that, or the events of the 9th month of 687 were an informal notice, so that they could get ready, after which they traveled the three months and change to Asuka, where they then were given the formal notification. Moving on to finish out the year 687: on the 22nd day of the 10th month, the Crown Prince and government officials, along with all of the governors and Kuni no MIyatsuko—and not forgetting the common people—all began work on the sovereign's tomb.  This is one of the few tombs that we have some confidence in, though it isn't a keyhole shaped kofun like many others from previous eras.  Today it looks mostly like a round hill, but originally it seems to have been an eight-sided tomb with five distinct levels.  Eight sides suggests a Buddhist influence, as eight is an auspicious number, such as in the 8-fold path.  I can't help but wonder if the five levels were connected to concepts of five in Confucian and Daoist teachings.  For instance, there was the idea of five Confucian virtues as well as the Wuxing, or Gogyou, where we have five specific elements.  Given the importance and influence of continental thinking at the time, neither one would surprise me. The tomb would take almost a year to complete, which almost doesn't seem like enough time given everything that they did.  It is possible that they had already prepped much of what they needed and that the 10th month of 687 was simply the date they broke ground, but either way it was an impressive feat. Meanwhile, as the construction was ongoing, the public displays of mourning continued.  Once again, new year's day celebrations of 688 were postponed in favor of public mourning, with the Crown Prince and all of the ministers making their lamentations on the first day of the year, followed by a company of priests the following day. On the 8th day of the first month of the year we are told that there was a public great congregation of priests held at Yakushiji.  This is the first official event held at Yakushiji, and so presumably the temple was now finished—or at least finished enough.  Since Ohoama isn't mentioned, it is certainly possible that this wasn't directly connected to the ceremonies around the official mourning of Ohoama.  On the other hand, Yakushiji was commissioned by Ohoama for the health of his wife, Uno no Sarara, so I have a hard time thinking that there weren't any connections at all. In the second month of 688, we get a decree that has a few different interpretations.  The decree states that, "in the future, on all days of national mourning, it is absolutely necessary that abstinence be practiced."  Bentley translates this to mean that there would be a feast on the day of national mourning every year after.  The key contention appears to be whether or not the day of mourning was a monthly or annual thing.  The court appears to have been creating a national holiday around the memory of Ohoama, and it may have chosen the second month for that day of mourning and remembrance.  Alternatively, this was for a day of mourning each month of the current year.  The wording is vague.  It is like the question of whether or not "Bi-weekly" means twice a week or once every two weeks, and I don't know that there is any consensus.  Still, it is interesting that they created their own holiday to remember Ohoama, and as far as I can tell this is the first such example of a holiday being used to remember a person in this way. Once again on the 22nd day of the third month, flowers were again presented at the palace of temporary interment.  This was only two days different from when the mikage had been set up in the previous year, so it would seem that the timing was significant—possibly because it was spring and the flowers were blooming.  Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima, the same individual who had helped gather the various priests together at Asukadera to hand out kesa made of the sovereign's own garments, presented the eulogy. The ceremonies are then put on hold for a bit.  There is an account from the 11th day of the 6th month where prisoners guilty of capital crimes would have their punishment mitigated one degree while those in prison for lighter offenses would be pardoned altogether.  In addition, only half of the commuted taxes were to be levied.  This might have been more merit-working for Ohoama or it may have been because the nation itself was undergoing a drought and they were seeking the Buddha's favor to bring the rains. Once again in the 8th month we see offerings of food are made, and a lament raised inside the palace of temporary interment.  This time the eulogy was performed by Ohotomo no Sukune no Yasumaro.  The day after that, Prince Ise was given commands regarding how the upcoming funeral was to be handled, which was to happen three months later. The 11th month kicked off with the Crown prince and the ministers once more going to the palace of temporary interment, this time on the 4th day of the month.  They had with them guests from the "frontier lands" as Aston notes—Bentley says foreign countries.  Offerings of food were made, and the Tatefushi dance was performed.  This was a dance with shields and swords, according to later records.  It seems that the dancers also wore armor, or something to approximate armor.  All of the ministers then advanced, each in turn, and pronounced a eulogy, with each recounting the services that their ancestors had rendered to the throne. The following day, there was further ceremony as over 190 Emishi brought tribute in on their backs, and pronounced a eulogy for the departed sovereign. Six days later, on the 11th day of the 11th month, Fuse no Ason no Miaruji and Ohotomo no Sukune no Mimiyuki both pronounced eulogies, and then Tahema no Mabito no Chitoko recited, as a eulogy, the succession to the throne of the royal ancestors.  And when that was finished, Ohoama's body was finally placed in the Ohouchi tomb and the tomb was sealed. And with that, the sovereign was put to rest, after over two years of mourning and ceremony, specifically designed to put on display the court's apparent grief.  Whether they were actually grieved or not, the importance was the performance of grief through the rituals set forth by the state.  Individuals and groups demonstrated their loyalty through their participation.  Noble families used the platform to recount their service and thus demonstrate their own history and pedigree and thus why they were deserving of their status in the court. Furthermore, during all this ceremony around the funerary arrangements, to try to  also have an ascension ceremony for the new sovereign was probably a little too much to try and push through.  It would have also meant that they would been holding a ceremony that should be joyful and august under the pall of the mourning period.  For the Crown Prince to don the robes of office while his father's body lay in the courtyard was probably, as they say, a bad look.  And, as I mentioned earlier, it wasn't like it was making any real, practical difference.  The ship of state was hardly rudderless, with Kusakabe and his mother both guiding it through the various ceremonies. Sure enough, in the following year, 689, the new year ceremonies were no longer about mourning and lamentation.  The queen gave an audience to all the lands in the Front Hall, and the following day the Ministry of Education presented 80 wooden staves, presumably for an old form of the Setsubun festival.  Today, Setsubun, the day before Spring, is celebrated with soybeans, which are tossed at characters in oni masks, and then inside the house.  The cries ring out "Oni ga soto" – "Demons Out" and then again, "Fuku ga uchi" – "Good luck inside!"  Thus evil spirits are kept at bay and good fortune is welcomed into the home.  In the older version of a similar ritual, it seems that wooden staves were used to symbolically drive the demons out, rather than just a handful of auspicious beans. The first month of year 689 continued to look a lot like previous years, prior to Ohoama's death.  There was a banquet given to the Ministers, and gifts of clothing were handed out to them.  And then, halfway through the month, the various officials brought presents of firewood to the palace.  And then a meal was given to the various public functionaries. A few days after that, Queen Uno left to visit the Yoshino palace for a few days, returning two days later. There is something that is not mentioned in all of this that I suspect was happening.  First of all, they had no doubt torn down the palace of Temporary Interment, and they were likely preparing for Crown Prince Kusakabe's ascension.  There are some that suspect Prince Kusakabe was waiting until three years had passed before taking the throne, mimicking a tradition sometimes observed on the continent, but nothing is explicitly said. Instead, we see that on the 24th day of the 3rd month there was another amnesty across the realm,  and we are explicitly told that crimes that hadn't been pardoned in ordinary amnesties were also excepted in this amnesty.  Amnesties typically seem to be part of merit-making to either prevent disaster or to celebrate something auspicious.  Was this clearing the way for the ascension ceremony to take place?  Or had something befallen the royal family? We aren't given many details, but on the 13th day of the 4th month, we are simply told that Crown Prince Kusakabe died.  We aren't told that he had previously been ill, or that anything in particular had happened.  It is just a simple line in the text.  And yet, this must have had tremendously serious consequences.  I think we can fairly safely assume that he was prepared to ascend the throne—unless he was thinking of pulling something like Naka no Oe and running things from behind the scenes.  However, there is plenty of evidence that Uno no Sarara was more likely to be the one to step back and be the power in the shadow.  She had operated from that position before. Whatever the plan was, clearly that plan was no more.  Crown Prince Kusakabe was dead, and his only heir was still a young child.  He also had no brothers to take the throne.  The Chronicles don't mention it, but this must have been a moment of incredible weakness for the court and the Queen.  History as we know it could have turned out very differently from this point. Also, sidebar—Prince Kusakabe's death is recorded on the 13th day of the 4th month.  While 13 would not necessarily be an inauspicious day until the Western superstition was introduced in recent times, the number 4 has long been associated with death because the pronunciation, "Shi" is the same as—or at least very similar to—the pronunciation of the character for death.  This is also the case in Chinese, and so the number four is often avoided and seen as unlucky.  Sometimes hotels will skip both the 4th and 13th floors in Asia to avoid any inauspicious vibes.  In Japanese, the numbers 4—"Shi" and seven—"Shichi"—will often be pronounced with their kun'yomi readings, so "yon" and "nana" respectively.  So I just find it rather an unfortunate coincidence that Crown Prince Kusakabe died on the 13th day of the 4th month.  Yikes. Anyway, if there was any wavering or grief by Uno no Sarara, it isn't mentioned in the Chronicles.  They continue to march on.  Later that same month, Prince Kasuga passed away.  Prince Kasuga was a non-royal prince, and the death of Prince Kasuga and the Crown Prince were met with an equal lack of fanfare or explanation.  Compare to the death of Prince Ohotsu, who was given an entire eulogy about how he was really well liked. Instead, the Chronicle simply moves on.  The rest of the year passes by as though nothing had happened.  The government continued with Uno no Sarara at its head.  In the first day of the first month of the following year, Uno no Sarara formally ascended to the royal dignity in a ceremony where Mononobe no Maro set up the shields, Nakatomi no Ohoshima recited a prayer for the blessings of Heaven, and Imbe no Shikofuchi delivered the divine seal, sword, and mirror to her majesty.  At that point all of the ministers and government officials made their obeisance in turn, clapping their hands as  they did so. One has to wonder if this ceremony wasn't a little bittersweet, given everything that had happened. A few things about the ceremony to note.  First are the three families mentioned:  Despite the fact that the Mononobe house had been defeated by the Soga centuries back, here they stand in their traditional role as soldiers, raising up the shield.  Then we see Nakatomi no Ohoshima—earlier mentioned as Fujiwara no Ohoshima—as the director of the Ministry of Kami matters, handling the ceremony.  And then there is the Imbe, in some ways the rival to the Nakatomi and their descendants, the Fujiwara, who is handling the regalia. Also of note is that the three regalia here are not the jewel, sword, and mirror, but the seal, sword, and mirror.  We mentioned this many episodes back when we had seen these same three used for the ascension ceremony, and noted then that a royal seal appears to be used, rather than mention of a jewel.  The character used, on the continent, referred to the imperial seal of the dynasty, which itself would have been carved into jade, or a jewel.  And in Japan the character is also said to refer to the "Yasakani-magatama", the sacred jewel.  So was it the jewel, and they just called it the seal?  Or is that a later attribution to try and maintain the concept that the three regalia remained the same?  I couldn't honestly say, but either way we see the concept of these three regalia as central to the ceremony. And with that, Uno no Sarara, known to us as Jitou Tennou, ascended the throne.  She would continue the process of making updates to the court and to the laws and regulations.  She would also see the creation of the Fujiwara palace and accompanying city—designed as the first permanent capital city in all of Japan.  She would also take a hard line with Silla and make her mark on the world stage, as well.  But we'll talk about that in future episodes. And so, until next time, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Today, we're starting a new series about something many Japanese learners find confusing: transitive and intransitive verbs.In Japanese, there are many verb pairs like akeru and aku, and choosing the right one can be tricky at first.In this first episode, we'll focus on simple and practical verbs you can use when talking about doors and lights!

In some cultures, being well at home is all about making sure that others feel well when visiting, by welcoming them in the right way. In Japan, for example, hospitality is like an art form, and even has a name: omotenashi. You can't really translate the concept into English; the meaning of the term goes a lot deeper than “hospitality”. It also has connotations of mindfulness. In Japanese culture, knowing how to welcome others and being totally focused on your guest go hand in hand. So you could say omotenashi is the ability to anticipate a guest's needs before they can even think of them themselves. Hence the idea of being fully available for your guest, right from the moment they arrive. The most obvious example in Japanese culture is serving tea. Where does omotenashi come from? So you're saying it's not limited to the home environment, are you? In under 3 minutes, we answer your questions! To listen to the last episodes, you can click here: ⁠How can I beat my smartphone addiction?⁠ ⁠How much money makes you happy?⁠ ⁠Are we heading for another stock market crash?⁠ A Bababam Originals podcast, written and produced by Joseph Chance. First Broadcast : 25/03/2023 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What is tsukimono? In Japanese culture, it's the unsettling idea of possession—when a human or animal spirit attaches itself to you and usually does harm. In this episode of Uncanny Japan, I explore animal possession: foxes, dogs, snakes, and even horses that cling to people for reasons both known and unknowable. What causes it? How can you tell if someone is possessed? And what happens when superstition crosses into real-world harm? I talk about real eerie (and sometimes silly) historical accounts to my own deeply personal experience. I also look at the strange, the supernatural, and the very human consequences of this fascinating belief. Perfect for listening while relaxing, walking, or drifting off to sleep. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Do you know the difference between むずかしい and たいへん?They both mean “difficult,” but they're actually quite different.Today's topic is confusing Japanese adjectives.In Japanese, there are many adjectives that seem similar, but actually have slightly different meanings depending on the situation. Learning these differences will help you sound more natural and confident in Japanese.

Giving constructive feedback is one of the hardest jobs in leadership, because people rarely hear correction as a gift at first. In Japan, Australia, the US, or Europe, the emotional pattern is much the same: people want to explain, defend, or redirect blame, even when the feedback is fair. This is why leaders need a method that protects dignity, strengthens accountability, and keeps trust intact. The real aim is not to "correct" people in a dramatic show of authority. It is to help them improve performance without crushing motivation. When feedback is handled well, it builds capability, loyalty, and better judgement across the whole team.  Why is constructive feedback so difficult for leaders and teams? Constructive feedback is difficult because people experience it as a threat to identity, not just a comment on performance. Even capable professionals can become defensive when they feel blamed, embarrassed, or cornered in front of others. In startups, SMEs, and large multinationals alike, the problem usually gets worse when leaders confuse honesty with aggression. In post-pandemic workplaces, where retention, engagement, and psychological safety matter more than ever, public criticism or emotional outbursts can damage team culture fast. In Japan especially, where harmony and face-saving often influence communication, careless correction can create silent resentment rather than visible repair. In the US or Australia, the same mistake may trigger open pushback instead. Either way, the cost is similar: lower morale, weaker trust, and reduced willingness to take initiative in future delegated work. Do now: Treat feedback as a leadership skill, not an emotional release. Aim to improve performance while preserving the person's confidence and commitment. How can leaders make feedback positive instead of punitive? Constructive feedback becomes positive when the intention is growth, not ego. The moment feedback turns into a power play, leaders lose credibility and people stop listening. A useful test is simple: are you helping the person improve, or are you proving your superiority? Great managers at firms like Toyota, Rakuten, or Microsoft understand that capability grows through mistakes, coaching, and repetition. Leaders often forget how many errors they made earlier in their own careers. That memory loss fuels impatience. A better approach is to frame feedback as development: this behaviour missed the mark, and here is how we can strengthen it. The tone matters as much as the content. When team members feel respected, they are far more likely to accept correction and act on it. Positive does not mean vague or soft. It means specific, fair, and future-focused. Do now: Before speaking, check your motive. Remove blame, status, and frustration, and focus only on helping the person perform better next time. When should you give corrective feedback? Leaders should give corrective feedback early, calmly, and before a small deviation becomes a major failure.Waiting too long usually turns a manageable issue into a relationship problem. Many managers ignore warning signs, then explode when results go off track. That pattern is common across sales teams, project groups, and operational departments from Asia-Pacific to Europe. But delayed feedback often reveals a leadership gap: poor monitoring, lack of check-ins, or unclear delegation. In agile teams and fast-growth companies, early intervention is especially important because errors scale quickly. A brief private conversation near the point of deviation is usually more effective than a dramatic post-mortem later. Early feedback also gives the employee a fair chance to adjust before the issue becomes embedded. This is one reason high-performing organisations build regular coaching rhythms rather than relying on annual reviews or emotionally charged confrontations. Do now: Don't stockpile frustration. Address major deviations promptly, privately, and while the problem is still fixable. What is the best way to structure a feedback conversation? The best feedback conversations are calm, two-way, and structured to invite ownership. Leaders should not dominate the discussion; they should guide the person toward understanding the issue and helping solve it. A strong structure starts with a sincere compliment that creates psychological safety. Then move to the issue using "and" rather than "but", because "but" mentally cancels the praise and prepares the listener for attack. Next, discuss the behaviour or outcome, not the person's character. Ask questions. What happened? What were you trying to achieve? What options do you see now? This approach works across cultures because it reduces threat and increases agency. In Japanese firms, it supports harmony without avoiding the issue. In more direct cultures like Australia or the US, it adds reflection to blunt honesty. The key is to speak calmly, listen fully, and let the team member help shape the solution wherever possible. Do now: Open with genuine praise, separate person from problem, ask for their view, and co-create the next step instead of delivering a lecture. Why should feedback never be given in public? Public criticism weakens leadership because it humiliates one person while frightening everyone else. Even when the mistake is obvious, correcting someone in front of others usually reduces trust more than it improves performance. Leaders sometimes justify public feedback in the name of efficiency or accountability. In reality, it often becomes theatre. The individual feels exposed, the rest of the team goes quiet, and future risk-taking drops. Research on psychological safety consistently shows that people contribute more when they do not fear embarrassment for speaking up or making correctable mistakes. In hierarchical workplaces, including many traditional Japanese organisations, public correction can carry a long emotional tail. In flatter cultures, it may trigger open resistance or disengagement. Either way, the lesson the team learns is not "quality matters"; it is "stay safe, stay silent, don't get noticed." That is the opposite of what modern leaders need. Do now: Save performance discussions for private settings. Protect dignity in public and handle correction where honest dialogue can still happen. How do leaders prepare to give constructive feedback well? Good feedback starts before the conversation, with clear thinking about the real problem and the best way forward. If the leader is confused, emotional, or vague, the conversation will drift and the employee will leave unclear. Preparation means doing the homework. What is the actual problem? Why is it a problem? What alternatives exist? Which option seems best? These four problem-solving questions sharpen judgement and stop leaders from reacting to symptoms instead of causes. For example, a missed deadline may look like carelessness, but the root issue could be unclear instructions, competing priorities, or lack of capability. In B2B, consulting, manufacturing, and professional services, that distinction matters because the fix changes completely depending on the cause. Prepared leaders can compare their understanding with the employee's perspective and have a much richer conversation. That improves fairness, increases ownership, and makes the next action more practical. Do now: Clarify the facts before you speak. Diagnose the issue, test possible solutions, and enter the conversation ready to listen as well as lead. Conclusion Constructive feedback is not about winning an argument or asserting status. It is about helping people improve while protecting trust, confidence, and team culture. The best leaders step in early, stay calm, keep criticism private, separate behaviour from identity, and prepare carefully before the conversation begins. When feedback is delivered with sincerity and structure, it becomes a tool for growth rather than fear. That is how leaders build stronger teams, better judgement, and more resilient performance over time. Author bio Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー). Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan.

We're going deep today, Slushies. Kathy and Tobi school us on the origin of the word “podcast” with its roots in both early Apple technology and agricultural lingo (think broadcast of seeds). In this episode we're broadcasting our appreciation for poems by Erin Evans. We admire Evans' sound work and her ability to craft powerful lines with plain language. In the first poem, the poet's confrontation of medical jargon reminds Marion of Whitman's poem When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer. An encounter between patient and doctor in Evans' poem underscores the difference between learning and knowing that recalls Leslie Jamison's book of essays, The Empathy Exams.    The second poem's Japanese title evokes the film Rashomon for Jason, who takes issue with the notion that our writerly imaginations are limited only to the words available in our own language. Schadenfreude, anyone? We're digging the close focus on language in these poems. Marion appreciates that the poem elevates a term she initially passed off as one from pop culture wellness. Meanwhile we conflate our Wabi-sabi with our kintsugi and poet Ross Gay with the poet Ross White (who is the actual originator of the gas station sushi theory). But don't let our mistakes keep you from experiencing Evans' powerful endings.   Slushies, if you're attending AWP in March, please stop by and see us at the book fair. We'll be at table 1272. We'd love to see you in person. Thanks, as always, for listening!   At the table: Tobi Kassim, Jason Schneiderman, Kathleen Volk Miller, Marion Wrenn, Lisa Zerkle, and Lillie Volpe (sound engineer)  Author Photo:    Author Bio: Erin Evans was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis when she was one year old. Her work is greatly influenced by her experience living with chronic illness. She has had poems published in Defunct, Revel, A Mouthful of Salt, and Nimrod-International Journal, which awarded her its Francine Ringold Award for New Writers. Her work was chosen by Kwame Dawes for his American Life in Poetry column. She lives in Vermont with her beautiful and brilliant kids. Exacerbation She says the word quickly looking down at my file   then back at the x-ray clipped against the glowing box.   My scarred and patchy lungs, and all their flaws  on display, almost make me blush.   Embarrassed that I couldn't do any better, have been better. I focus instead    on the soft ribbons of my ribcage that fan like ghost hands   lit up for Halloween. Again, she says it,   looking at me now  as she sits on the round rolling chair   and reaches for her stethoscope. Exacerbation, which I finally looked up   after years and years of hearing it, simply means a worsening.   But she was taught not to state  the obvious, to disguise the truth   in the language of textbooks, and lectures, years of learning   how best to look right through someone. And I was taught to breathe in when I was told,   to push past that pain in my chest  that has no name, nor chapter in any book.   Komorebi Scott nudges my kayak away from the shore.   The yellow plastic scrapes the sand and seashell bottom  until it glides to the open water, over deep-green seaweed that waves its version of goodbye.    A soft pushing away  a departing of one world, only to enter another,  so vast there are no names for things:   When I die  let it be like this.   Some languages have words for words we never even thought to speak.   In Japanese, for instance, there is a word  for the sunlight filtering through the leaves of a tree.   Tell me, why isn't there a name for this: The ocean's soft  pull, the gentle begging it does,      like a child tugging  at the tail of your shirt,    reminding you it's time to go.   Riches  As I cradle my morning tea I watch her from the window.   Crouched down in the yard, with her hand outstretched. Even   from here I see the arthritis knot and bend her fingers   from years of knitting intricate sweaters and working late-night shifts at the hospital.   The chickens come to her  hesitantly, to peck the scratch from her warm hand.   She told me once that even when  she has nothing to give them   they still peck softly at her wedding band.   They surround her now, their bobbing and dipping beaks   and as they take the seeds she offers,  she smooths the long yellow feathers   that in the right light turn golden.   If I could inherit a single thing from her it would be this patience,   this trust that life will come to you even when your body    is leaving this world slowly, one cell at a time.

The word “道 (Michi / Do)” represents more than just a road or path.In Japanese culture, it expresses the process of striving toward mastery. We often focus only on results. But by becoming aware of the path we are walking right now, our learning — and our lives — can become much richer.Learning Japanese could also be a “道.”So instead of chasing only fluency, try to appreciate each step along the way.「道（みち・どう）」という言葉は、人生や物事を成し遂げるまでのプロセスを表すメタファーとして、日本文化の中で大切にされてきました。私たちはつい、結果だけを追い求めてしまいがちです。でも、「道」――つまり今まさに歩んでいるプロセスそのものを意識することで、日々の学びや生活は、より豊かになるのではないでしょうか。日本語の勉強も、ひとつの「道」になり得ると思います。結果だけではなく、その道のりも味わいながら、一歩ずつ進んでいきましょう。Enjoy the journey.

The Japanese word for "space", 間 (ma), carries layered meanings. It can be translated as "interval", invoking the space between two or more things, which can be both spatial or temporal in nature. In Japanese cities, sound and civic technologies play a role in how this interval is produced, navigated, and governed.Das japanische Wort für "Raum", 間 (ma), trägt vielschichtige Bedeutungen. Es kann als "Intervall" übersetzt werden und verweist auf den Raum zwischen zwei oder mehr Dingen, die sowohl zeitlicher als auch räumlicher Natur sein können. In japanischen Städten spielen Klang und Civic Tech eine Rolle dabei, wie dieses Intervall hervorgebracht, erfahrbar gemacht und gesteuert wird.You can find the blog What/Next at ⁠www.planung-neu-denken.de⁠Music: Elephants on Parade by ⁠Podington Bear⁠. ⁠Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 International License

In Japanese culture men who dress as women or transform into women have been very popular in manga and anime. Recently otokonoko or "men with a feminine appearance" or crossdressers have made a huge surge in popularity. I explain what otokonoko is and show a recent manga I found in this episode.

What if the very thing weighing on you right now is the key to your next level of growth?Many of us carry more than we realize: unfinished goals, unmet expectations, family pressures, and the constant mental load of what still needs to be done.In this episode of Chain of Learning, I share a grounding teaching from a Zen priest in Japan after a Zazen guided meditation session that has deeply resonated with me—and with leaders on my Japan Leadership Experience:“Remove the muda to reveal the buddha.”In Japanese, muda means waste. And in Lean, muda refers to anything that doesn't add value.I've been reflecting on this phrase and its deeper meaning as I process my own life experiences, both personally and professionally.This Zen teaching invites us to look inward: to notice what weighs us down, reflect on what it's trying to teach us, and transform that weight into wisdom.As you move forward—whether at the end of a year or in the middle of a busy work period—this episode offers an invitation to slow down, study your experiences, and release what no longer serves you, so that you can lead your life and work with greater intention, clarity, and a continuous learning mindset.YOU'LL LEARN:What Daruma dolls reveal about resilience, focus, and habits rooted in practice, not perfectionWhat “Remove the muda to reveal the Buddha” means beyond lean – and how reflection helps turn inner weight into wisdomFour additional Zen teachings that apply to effective leadership, helping change leaders move beyond tools to presence, purpose, and a growth mindsetA simple reflection practice to reframe or release muda so it supports – not burdens – your growthThe distinction between goals and intentions, and why letting your being guide your doing leads to more meaningful progressIMPORTANT LINKS:Full episode show notes with links to other podcast episodes and resources: ChainOfLearning.com/62Check out my website for resources and ways to work with me KBJAnderson.comFollow me on LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/kbjandersonLearn more about my Japan Leadership Experience: KBJAnderson.com/japantrip Get a copy of “Learning to Lead Leading to Learn”: KBJAnderson.com/learning-to-lead Video clip of the daruma temple: Leadership Lessons from Japan's Daruma TempleTIMESTAMPS FOR THIS EPISODE:01:55 Daruma dolls and what they represent03:28 How Zazen meditation can bring you back to inner peace and inner being04:26 What it means to “Remove the muda to reveal the Buddha”06:43 The burden Isao Yoshino carried of what he considered was his big failure as a business leader and the shift in perspective to lift the burden, as highlighted in “Learning to Lead, Leading to Learn”08:07 Four Zen teachings and how to apply them as a transformational change leader12:00 How the burning of daruma dolls each year show reflection in practice13:05 Your intentional practice to help you remove the muda13:36 3 examples of how to use this reflection process to adjust or release so to turn waste into wisdom13:49 Example 1: You've been stuck in constant doing14:16 Example 2: Your plans didn't unfold as expected15:07 Example 3: A relationship has shifted16:38 The distinction between goals vs intentions—being and doing17:31 How to “Remove the muda to reveal the buddha” to release the weight you carry and move forward

Kaizen — The Power of Small ImprovementsThere's a Japanese word that quietly changes everything: Kaizen. Kaizen means continuous improvement. Not an overnight success.Not massive leaps.Just a little, intentional progress—every single day. In Japanese, Kai means change. Zen means good. So kaizen literally means change for the better.

Do you know some of Japanese onomatopia?In Japanese, onomatopoeia are words that describe sounds, feelings, movements, or the way things look.Today, I will introduce 10 beginner-friendly onomatopoeia with example sentences. Please enjoy!

In Part One we covered three foundational human relations principles: avoid criticism, offer honest appreciation, and connect your requests to what the other person wants. In Part Two, we level up the relationship-building process with three more principles that are simple, timeless, and strangely rare in modern workplaces. How do leaders build trust when everyone is time-poor and transactional? Trust is built by slowing down "relationship time" on purpose—because rushed efficiency kills human connection.In post-pandemic workplaces (hybrid, remote, overloaded calendars), teams can become purely transactional: tasks, Slack messages, deadlines, repeat. The problem is: efficiency is a terrible strategy for relationships. If people don't feel known or understood, you don't have trust—you have compliance (and even that is fragile). Across Japan, the US, and Europe, the pattern is consistent: when leaders invest time in people, cooperation rises; when leaders treat people as moving parts, motivation drops. Relationship-building is a leadership system, not a personality trait—schedule it like you'd schedule a customer meeting. Do now: Put one 15-minute "relationship slot" on your calendar each day this week and use it to learn something real about one team member.  How can a leader "become genuinely interested" without it feeling fake? Genuine interest means curiosity without agenda—because people can smell manipulation in seconds. A lot of leaders worry, "If I ask personal questions, won't it look like I'm trying to use them?" That's a fair concern, because we've all met the "networking vampire" who's only being nice to get something. The reality is: being "nice" to take advantage of people usually works once—then you're done, especially in a hyper-connected organisation where word spreads fast. The difference is intent. Real interest isn't a technique; it's respect. Every colleague has a story—skills, family background, side projects, passions, scars, ambitions. The workplace becomes richer and happier when leaders make space for that humanity, rather than pretending everyone is a job title. Do now: Ask one non-work question you can genuinely listen to: "What are you into outside of work these days?" Then shut up and learn.  Why does "shared interests" matter so much for team performance? Shared interests create closeness, and closeness makes cooperation easier when pressure hits. In any team—whether it's a Japanese HQ, a Silicon Valley startup, or a regional APAC sales unit—conflict isn't usually about the task. It's about interpretation: "They don't care," "They're lazy," "They're political," "They're against me." When you know someone's point of view (and why they think that way), you stop writing hostile stories about them. This is where relationship-building becomes performance insurance. When deadlines tighten, the team with trust can debate hard and move forward. The team without trust gets passive-aggressive, silent, or stuck. Leaders who take an honest interest create the bonds that prevent small issues from turning into culture damage. Do now: Find one "common point" with each direct report (sport, kids, music, learning, food) and remember it.  Does smiling actually improve leadership outcomes—or is it just fluff? A deliberate smile makes you more approachable and lowers threat levels, which increases cooperation. It sounds too simple, so leaders dismiss it—then wonder why people avoid them. Walk around most offices and you'll see the default face: stressed, pressured, serious. Not many smiles. Technology was supposed to give us time, yet in the 2020s it often makes us busier and more tense—meaning we're losing the art of pleasant interaction. A smile is not weakness. In Japan especially, a calm, friendly demeanour can change the whole atmosphere before you even speak. In Western contexts, it signals confidence and openness. Either way, it reduces friction. Start with the face, and the conversation gets easier. Do now: Before your next team conversation, smile first—then speak. Watch how their body language changes.  Why is using someone's name a leadership "power tool" in Japan and globally? A person's name is a shortcut to respect, recognition, and connection—so forgetting it is an avoidable disadvantage. In organisations, you'll deal with people across divisions, projects, and periodic meetings. In Japanese decision-making, multiple stakeholders are often involved, and you can't afford to blank on someone when you run into them at their office or in the hallway. The same is true at industry events and client meetings: you represent your organisation, and names matter. This isn't about being slick. It's about sending a signal: "I see you." If competitors remember names and you don't, they feel warmer, more attentive, and more trustworthy—even if their offering is identical. Do now: Use the name early: "Tanaka-san, quick question…" then use it once more before you finish.  What if I'm terrible with names—how do I get better fast? You don't need a perfect memory—you need a repeatable system that works under pressure. Leaders often say, "I'm just bad with names," as if it's permanent. It's not. Treat it like any business skill: practise, build a method, and improve. In a hybrid world, you often have fewer in-person touchpoints, which means you must be more intentional when you do meet. Try this in Japan, the US, or anywhere: repeat the name immediately, connect it to something visual or contextual ("Kato = key account"), and write it down after the meeting. If it's a client team with multiple stakeholders, map names to roles the same day. This one skill upgrades your executive presence quickly. Do now: After your next meeting, write down three names and one detail for each—then review it before the next interaction.  Conclusion These principles aren't "soft skills"—they're leadership mechanics. Genuine interest builds trust. Smiling changes the emotional temperature. Names create recognition and respect. In any market—Japan, the US, Europe, or Asia-Pacific—the leaders who practise these consistently get more cooperation, fewer misunderstandings, and better results. FAQs Can I build trust without spending lots of time? Yes—small, consistent moments of genuine interest beat rare, long catch-ups. Will smiling make me look weak? No—a calm smile reduces stress and increases cooperation without lowering standards. What's the fastest relationship habit? Use people's names correctly and give one sincere recognition each day. Author Credentials Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー).  Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan. 

Hosted by our Director, Avivah Yamani. In Japanese folklore Tokuzou was a great mariner from Osaka who relied on Polaris (as we europeans call it), the North Star for navigation at sea. Then one night his wife saw that it had shifted out of place and she was afraid that her husband wouldn't be able to find his way back home!   We've added a new way to donate to 365 Days of Astronomy to support editing, hosting, and production costs.  Just visit: https://www.patreon.com/365DaysOfAstronomy and donate as much as you can! Share the podcast with your friends and send the Patreon link to them too!  Every bit helps! Thank you! ------------------------------------ Do go visit http://www.redbubble.com/people/CosmoQuestX/shop for cool Astronomy Cast and CosmoQuest t-shirts, coffee mugs and other awesomeness! http://cosmoquest.org/Donate This show is made possible through your donations.  Thank you! (Haven't donated? It's not too late! Just click!) ------------------------------------ The 365 Days of Astronomy Podcast is produced by the Planetary Science Institute. http://www.psi.edu Visit us on the web at 365DaysOfAstronomy.org or email us at info@365DaysOfAstronomy.org.

 Sales has always been a mindset game, but as of 2025, credibility is audited in seconds: first by your attitude, then by your image, and finally by how you handle objections and deliver outcomes. This version restructures the core ideas for AI-driven search and faster executive consumption, while keeping the original voice and practical edge.  Is attitude really the master key to sales success in 2025? Yes—your inner narrative sets your outer performance curve. From Henry Ford's "whether you think you can or can't" to Dale Carnegie's focus on personal agency, top performers engineer their self-talk under pressure. Post-pandemic, the volatility of B2B buying cycles and procurement scrutiny means sellers in Japan, the US, and Europe face more "no's" before a "yes." Adopt deliberate mental scripts before client calls ("You can do this") and after setbacks ("Reset, learn, re-engage"). Layer temporal anchors—quarterly targets, weekly pipeline reviews—to keep momentum objective, not emotional. In startups and SMEs, the founder-seller's mindset colours the whole team; in multinationals, it influences cross-functional trust with legal, finance, and delivery. Do now: Write a 30-second pre-call mantra and a 60-second post-call reset. Repeat both for 30 days; track conversion lift in your CRM. How do I bounce back fast after rejection without losing my edge? Counter-programme negativity with immediate, structured inputs. After job loss or a blown deal, flood your cognition with high-quality content the way athletes use tape review—books, playbooks, and leader debriefs instead of doom-scrolling. Think "input replacement": replace rumination with skill-building (objection patterns, pricing frameworks). Firms like Toyota or Rakuten institutionalise retrospectives; emulate that at team scale. In APAC vs. US contexts, timelines to re-pitch can differ—use a 24–48 hour window to reframe, then re-engage stakeholders. Treat every rejection as data: log cause (timing, budget, political capital) and countermeasure (proof, pilot, reference). Do now: Create a "rejection to routine" checklist: 1) log cause, 2) choose countermeasure, 3) schedule next touch, 4) upgrade enablement asset. Which people should I avoid—and which should I seek—when my pipeline wobbles? Avoid the "whine circle"; seek performance environments. Misery compounds in sales teams when negative talk becomes a daily ritual. Protect your focus like revenue: step away from low-agency chatter and toward deal rooms, peer reviews, and customer-back sessions. The classic Glengarry Glen Ross contrast—Ricky Roma selling while others complain—remains instructive, even if your 2025 "bar" is a Zoom room. In Japanese enterprise sales, senpai-kohai norms can pressure you to join the gripe; politely decline and book a customer discovery call instead. In US/Europe, use enablement Slack channels for pattern-spotting (what's working now vs. last quarter). Do now: Time-audit one week. Replace 2 hours of complaint conversations with 2 customer conversations, a reference call, or a pilot design session. Does my image still matter when most buyers research online first? Absolutely—executive presence accelerates trust in the first 90 seconds. "Image" isn't just suits and watches; it's congruence: neat dress, crisp opening, concise agenda, and credible artefacts (case studies, pilots, references). Think "BMW energy" without the bravado: quiet competence, simple visuals, punctuality. In conservative sectors (financial services, manufacturing), formality signals reliability; in startups and creative industries, smart-casual with clean slides signals agility. Japan versus US norms diverge in attire, but converge on preparation and respect: arrive early, name roles, confirm outcomes. Keep a repeatable first-impression kit: one-page credibility sheet, short customer video, and a 15-minute discovery plan. Do now: Build a 3-item presence kit (attire checklist, one-pager, discovery plan). Rehearse your first 90 seconds until it's muscle memory. How do I sound fluent without sounding "slick" or manipulative? Use structured clarity, not theatrics. Buyers fear the "too smooth" pitch; answer crisply, invite scrutiny, and show your working. Use a simple objection map: acknowledge → clarify → evidence → confirm. Anchor with entities (benchmarks, standards, regulations) and timelines ("as of Q4 2025, compliance rules changed"). In enterprise deals, suggest a small pilot to lower risk; in SME deals, offer a 30-day milestone plan. Keep language plain English with Australian spelling—short sentences, verbs first. Record and review your calls like athletes; look for hedging, filler, and jargon. Replace with specifics and proof. Do now: Write 5 top objections with one-sentence answers and one proof each (metric, customer name, or pilot result). Practise aloud. What proves credibility over time when problems inevitably arise? Calm accountability beats charisma after the contract is signed. When delivery hits turbulence, credibility is measured by cadence (weekly updates), transparency (risk log), and persistence (closing loops). Map stakeholders: executive sponsor, user lead, procurement, security. In Japan, escalate with harmony (nemawashi) before the formal meeting; in US/Europe, publish a written corrective plan and owner names. Tie each update to outcomes (uptime, cycle time, ROI proxy). Startups: emphasise speed of fix. Multinationals: emphasise governance and documentation. The goal is partner status, not vendor status. Do now: Implement a two-line status format in every email: "What changed since last week" and "What will change before next week," plus a single risk with owner. Quick checklist — first 90 seconds with a new buyer Confirm time, agenda, and outcome. One-sentence value prop, one credible proof. Ask one context question, one metric question, one timing question. Conclusion — the three pillars work together Mindset, image, and delivery are a system, not a buffet. Get your inner voice aligned, present like a pro, and then prove it under pressure. Do those three consistently, and 2025's buyers—whether in Tokyo, Sydney, or New York—will pick you when it counts.  FAQs What should I change first if I'm overwhelmed? Start with a pre-call checklist and a 30-second mantra—both are fast and compounding. How formal should I dress in Japan vs. the US? Japan skews more formal; the US tolerates smart-casual—match the client's culture and the meeting's stakes. How do I track mindset ROI? Tag calls where you used the routine; compare conversion rate and cycle time vs. prior month. Next steps for leaders/executives Install objection maps and first-impression kits across the team. Run weekly deal reviews focused on clarity, not theatre. Standardise pilot templates and two-line status updates. Author credentials Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie "One Carnegie Award" (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban "Hito o Ugokasu" Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー).  Greg also publishes daily business insights on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, and hosts six weekly podcasts. On YouTube, he produces The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews, which are widely followed by executives seeking success strategies in Japan. 

Last time we spoke about the Changsha fire. Chiang Kai-shek faced a brutal choice: defend Wuhan to the last man or flood the land to slow the invaders. He chose both, pushing rivers and rallying a fractured army as Japanese forces pressed along the Yangtze. Fortresses at Madang held long, but the cost was high—troops lost, civilians displaced, a city's heart burning in the night. Wuhan fell after months of brutal fighting, yet the battle did not break China's will. Mao Zedong urged strategy over martyrdom, preferring to drain the enemy and buy time for a broader struggle. The Japanese, though victorious tactically, found their strength ebbing, resource strains, supply gaps, and a war that felt endless. In the wake of Wuhan, Changsha stood next in the Japanese crosshairs, its evacuation and a devastating fire leaving ash and memory in its wake. Behind these prices, political currents swirled. Wang Jingwei defected again, seeking power beyond Chiang's grasp, while Chongqing rose as a western bastion of resistance. The war hardened into a protracted stalemate, turning Japan from an aggressive assailant into a wary occupier, and leaving China to endure, persist, and fight on.   #175  The Soviet-Japanese Border Conflicts Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. So based on the title of this one, you probably can see we are taking a bit of a detour. For quite some time we have focused on the Japanese campaigns into China proper 1937-1938. Now the way the second sino-japanese war is traditionally broken down is in phases. 1937-1938, 1939-1942 and 1942-1945. However there is actually even more going on in China aside from the war with Japan. In Xinjiang province a large full blown Islamic revolution breaks out in 1937. We will be covering that story at a later date, but another significant event is escalating border skirmishes in Manchukuo. Now these border skirmishes had been raging ever since the USSR consolidated its hold over the far east. We talked about some of those skirmishes prior to the Sino-Soviet war in 1929. However when Japan created the puppet government of Manchukuo, this was a significant escalation in tensions with the reds. Today we are going to talk about the escalating border conflicts between the Soviets and Japan. A tongue of poorly demarcated land extends southeast from Hunchun, hugging the east bank of the Tumen River between Lake Khasan to the east and Korea to the west. Within this tongue stands Changkufeng Hill, one of a long chain of highlands sweeping from upstream along the rivers and moors toward the sea. The twin-peaked hill sits at the confluence area several miles northwest of the point where Manchuria, Korea, and the Russian Far East meet. The hill's shape reminded Koreans of their changgo, which is a long snare drum constricted at the center and tapped with the hands at each end. When the Manchus came to the Tumen, they rendered the phonetic sounds into three ideographic characters meaning "taut drum peaks" or Chang-ku-feng. The Japanese admired the imagery and preserved the Chinese readings, which they pronounce Cho-ko-ho. From their eastern vantage, the Russians called it Zaozernaya, "hill behind the lake." Soviet troops referred to it as a sugar-loaf hill. For many years, natives and a handful of officials in the region cultivated a relaxed attitude toward borders and sovereignty. Even after the Japanese seized Manchuria in 1931, the issue did not immediately come to a head. With the expansion of Manchukuo and the Soviet Far East under Stalin's Five-Year plans, both sides began to attend more closely to frontier delimitation. Whenever either party acted aggressively, force majeure was invoked to justify the unexpected and disruptive events recognized in international law. Most often, these incidents erupted along the eastern Manchurian borders with the USSR or along the 350-mile frontier south of Lake Khanka, each skirmish carrying the seeds of all-out warfare. Now we need to talk a little bit about border history. The borders in question essentially dated to pacts concluded by the Qing dynasty and the Tsardom. Between the first Sino-Russian Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689 and the Mukden Agreement of 1924, there were over a dozen accords governing the borders. Relevant to Changkufeng were the basic 15-article Convention of Peking, supplementing the Tientsin Treaties of November 1860, some maps made in 1861, and the eight-article Hunchun Border Protocol of 1886. By the 1860 treaty, the Qing ceded to Tsarist Russia the entire maritime province of Siberia, but the meaning of "lands south of Lake Khanka" remained rather vague. Consequently, a further border agreement was negotiated in June 1861 known as "the Lake Khanka Border Pact", by which demarcations were drawn on maps and eight wooden markers erected. The border was to run from Khanka along ridgelines between the Hunchun River and the sea, past Suifenho and Tungning, terminating about 6 miles from the mouth of the Tumen. Then a Russo-Chinese commission established in 1886 drew up the Hunchun Border Pact, proposing new or modified markers along the 1860–1861 lines and arranging a Russian resurvey. However, for the Japanese, in 1938, the Chinese or Manchu texts of the 1886 Hunchun agreement were considered controlling. The Soviets argued the border ran along every summit west of Khasan, thereby granting them jurisdiction over at least the eastern slopes of all elevations, including Changkufeng and Shachaofeng.  Since the Qing dynasty and the house of Romanov were already defunct, the new sovereignties publicly appealed to opposing texts, and the Soviet side would not concede that the Russian-language version had never been deemed binding by the Qing commissioners. Yet, even in 1938, the Japanese knew that only the Chinese text had survived or could be located.    Now both the Chinese and Russian military maps generally drew the frontier along the watershed east of Khasan; this aligned with the 1861 readings based on the Khanka agreement. The Chinese Republican Army conducted new surveys sometime between 1915 and 1920. The latest Chinese military map of the Changkufeng area drew the border considerably closer to the old "red line" of 1886, running west of Khasan but near the shore rather than traversing the highland crests. None of the military delimitations of the border was sanctified by an official agreement. Hence, the Hunchun Protocol, whether well known or not, invaluable or worthless, remained the only government-to-government pact dealing with the frontiers.  Before we jump into it, how about a little summary of what became known as the Soviet-Japanese border conflicts. The first major conflict would obviously be the Russo-Japanese war of 1904-1905. Following years of conflict between the Russian Empire and Japan culminating in the costly Battle of Tsushima, Tsar Nicholas II's government sought peace, recognizing Japan's claims to Korea and agreeing to evacuate Manchuria.  From 1918 to 1920, the Imperial Japanese Army, under Emperor Taishō after the death of Meiji, assisted the White Army and Alexander Kerensky against the Bolshevik Red Army. They also aided the Czechoslovak Legion in Siberia to facilitate its return to Europe after an Austrian-Hungarian armoured train purportedly went astray. By 1920, with Austria-Hungary dissolved and Czechoslovakia established two years earlier, the Czechoslovak Legion reached Europe. Japan withdrew from the Russian Revolution and the Civil War in 1922. Following Japan's 1919-1920 occupations and the Soviet intervention in Mongolia in 1921, the Republic of China also withdrew from Outer Mongolia in 1921. In 1922, after capturing Vladivostok in 1918 to halt Bolshevik advances, Japanese forces retreated to Japan as Bolshevik power grew and the postwar fatigue among combatants increased. After Hirohito's invasion of Manchuria in 1931–1932, following Taishō's death in 1926, border disputes between Manchukuo, the Mongolian People's Republic, and the Soviet Union increased. Many clashes stemmed from poorly defined borders, though some involved espionage. Between 1932 and 1934, the Imperial Japanese Army reported 152 border disputes, largely tied to Soviet intelligence activity in Manchuria, while the Soviets accused Japan of 15 border violations, six air intrusions, and 20 cases of "spy smuggling" in 1933 alone. Numerous additional violations followed in the ensuing years. By the mid-1930s, Soviet-Japanese diplomacy and trust had deteriorated further, with the Japanese being openly labeled "fascist enemies" at the Seventh Comintern Congress in July 1935. Beginning in 1935, conflicts significantly escalated. On 8 January 1935, the first armed clash, known as the Halhamiao incident, took place on the border between Mongolia and Manchukuo. Several dozen cavalrymen of the Mongolian People's Army crossed into Manchuria near disputed fishing grounds and engaged an 11‑man Manchukuo Imperial Army patrol near the Buddhist temple at Halhamiao, led by a Japanese military advisor. The Manchukuo Army sustained 6 wounded and 2 dead, including the Japanese officer; the Mongols suffered no casualties and withdrew after the Japanese sent a punitive expedition to reclaim the area. Two motorized cavalry companies, a machine‑gun company, and a tankette platoon occupied the position for three weeks without resistance. In June 1935, the first direct exchange of fire between the Japanese and Soviets occurred when an 11‑man Japanese patrol west of Lake Khanka was attacked by six Soviet horsemen, reportedly inside Manchukuo territory. In the firefight, one Soviet soldier was killed and two horses were captured. The Japanese requested a joint investigation, but the Soviets rejected the proposal. In October 1935, nine Japanese and 32 Manchukuoan border guards were establishing a post about 20 kilometers north of Suifenho when they were attacked by 50 Soviet soldiers. The Soviets opened fire with rifles and five heavy machine guns. Two Japanese and four Manchukuoan soldiers were killed, and another five were wounded. The Manchukuoan foreign affairs representative lodged a verbal protest with the Soviet consul at Suifenho. The Kwantung Army of Japan also sent an intelligence officer to investigate the clash. On 19 December 1935, a Manchukuoan unit reconnoitering southwest of Buir Lake clashed with a Mongolian party, reportedly capturing 10 soldiers. Five days later, 60 truck‑borne Mongolian troops assaulted the Manchukuoans and were repulsed, at the cost of three Manchukuoan dead. On the same day, at Brunders, Mongolian forces attempted three times to drive out Manchukuoan outposts, and again at night, but all attempts failed. Further small attempts occurred in January, with Mongolians using airplanes for reconnaissance. The arrival of a small Japanese force in three trucks helped foil these attempts; casualties occurred on both sides, though Mongolian casualties are unknown aside from 10 prisoners taken. In February 1936, Lieutenant-Colonel Sugimoto Yasuo was ordered to form a detachment from the 14th Cavalry Regiment to "drive the Outer Mongol intruders from the Olankhuduk region," a directive attributed to Lieutenant-General Kasai Heijuro. Sugimoto's detachment included cavalry guns, heavy machine guns, and tankettes. They faced a force of about 140 Mongolians equipped with heavy machine guns and light artillery. On February 12, Sugimoto's men drove the Mongolians south, at the cost of eight Japanese killed, four wounded, and one tankette destroyed. The Japanese began to withdraw, but were attacked by 5–6 Mongolian armored cars and two bombers, which briefly disrupted the column. The situation was stabilized when the Japanese unit received artillery support, allowing them to destroy or repel the armored cars. In March 1936, the Tauran incident occurred. In this clash, both the Japanese Army and the Mongolian Army deployed a small number of armored fighting vehicles and aircraft. The incident began when 100 Mongolian and six Soviet troops attacked and occupied the disputed village of Tauran, Mongolia, driving off the small Manchurian garrison. They were supported by light bombers and armored cars, though the bombing sorties failed to inflict damage on the Japanese, and three bombers were shot down by Japanese heavy machine guns. Local Japanese forces counter-attacked, conducting dozens of bombing sorties and finally assaulting Tauran with 400 men and 10 tankettes. The result was a Mongolian rout, with 56 Mongolian soldiers killed, including three Soviet advisors, and an unknown number wounded. Japanese losses were 27 killed and 9 wounded. Later in March 1936, another border clash occurred between Japanese and Soviet forces. Reports of border violations prompted the Japanese Korean Army to send ten men by truck to investigate, but the patrol was ambushed by 20 Soviet NKVD soldiers deployed about 300 meters inside territory claimed by Japan. After suffering several casualties, the Japanese patrol withdrew and was reinforced with 100 men, who then drove off the Soviets. Fighting resumed later that day when the NKVD brought reinforcements. By nightfall, the fighting had ceased and both sides had pulled back. The Soviets agreed to return the bodies of two Japanese soldiers who had died in the fighting, a development viewed by the Japanese government as encouraging. In early April 1936, three Japanese soldiers were killed near Suifenho in another minor affray. This incident was notable because the Soviets again returned the bodies of the fallen servicemen. In June 1937, the Kanchazu Island incident occurred on the Amur River along the Soviet–Manchukuo border. Three Soviet gunboats crossed the river's center line, disembarked troops, and occupied Kanchazu Island. Japanese forces from the IJA 1st Division, equipped with two horse-drawn 37 mm artillery pieces, quickly established improvised firing positions and loaded their guns with both high-explosive and armor-piercing shells. They shelled the Soviet vessels, sinking the lead gunboat, crippling the second, and driving off the third. Japanese troops subsequently fired on the swimming crewmen from the sunken ships using machine guns. Thirty-seven Soviet soldiers were killed, while Japanese casualties were zero. The Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs protested and demanded the Soviet forces withdraw from the island. The Soviet leadership, apparently shocked by the incident and reluctant to escalate, agreed to evacuate their troops. By 1938 the border situation had deteriorated. The tangled terrain features, mountain, bog, stream, forest, and valley, would have complicated even careful observers' discernment of the old red line drawn in 1886. Fifty years later, the markers themselves had undergone a metamorphosis. Japanese investigators could find, at most, only 14 to 17 markers standing fairly intact between the Tumen estuary and Khanka—roughly one every 25 miles at best. The remainder were missing or ruined; five were found in new locations. Marker "K," for example, was 40 meters deeper inside Manchuria, away from Khanka. Japanese military experts noted that of the 20 markers originally set along the boundaries of Hunchun Prefecture alone, only four could be found by the summer of 1938. The rest had either been wrecked or arbitrarily moved and discarded by Russian or Chinese officials and inhabitants. It is even said that one missing marker could be seen on display in Khabarovsk. The Chinese had generally interpreted the boundary as the road line just west of Khasan, at least in practice. Free road movement, however, had become a problem even 20 years before the Japanese overran Manchuria in 1931–1932 during the so-called Manchurian Incident. The Japanese adopted, or inherited, the Chinese interpretation, which was based on the 1886 agreement on border roads; the key clause held that the frontier west of Khasan would be the road along the lake. Japanese sources emphasize that local residents' anger toward gradual Soviet oppression and penetrations westward into Manchurian territory fueled the conflict. Many natives believed the original boundaries lay east of the lake, but the Soviets adjusted the situation to suit their own convenience. In practice, the Russians were restricting road use just west of Khasan by Manchurian and Korean residents. There was speculation that this was a prelude to taking over the ridgelines, depending on the reaction of the Manchukuoan–Japanese side. Villagers who went to streams or the lake to launder clothing found themselves subjected to sniper fire. Along a 25-mile stretch of road near Shachaofeng, farmers reported coming under fire from new Soviet positions as early as November 1935. Nevertheless, Japanese and Koreans familiar with the Tumen area noted agrarian, seasonal Korean religious rites atop Changkufeng Hill, including fattened pigs sacrificed and changgo drums beaten. Village elders told Japanese visitors in 1938 that, until early the preceding year, no Russians had come as far as Changkufeng Hill. Looking only at the border sector around Changkufeng, the easy days were clearly behind us. In the summer of 1938, Gaimusho "Foreign Ministry" observers described the explosive situation along the Korea–Manchuria–USSR borders as a matter of de facto frontiers. Both sides pressed against each other, and their trigger-happy posture was summed up in the colloquial refrain: "Take another step and we'll let you have it." Near dawn on 13 June 1938, a Manchurian patrol detected a suspicious figure in the fog swirling over Changlingtzu Hill on the Siberian–Manchurian frontier. Challenged at 15 feet, the suspect hurled two pistols to the ground and raised his hands in surrender. At headquarters, the police soon realized this was no routine border-trespassing case. The man was a defector and he was a Russian general, in fact he was the director of all NKVD forces in the Soviet Far East. Beneath a mufti of spring coat and hunting cap, he wore a full uniform with medals. His identification card No. 83 designated him as G. S. Lyushkov, Commissar 3rd Class, countersigned by Nikolai Yezhov, NKVD head in Moscow. Lyushkov was promptly turned over to the Japanese military authorities, who transferred him to Seoul and then to Tokyo under close escort. On 1 July, the Japanese press was permitted to disclose that Lyushkov had sought refuge in Japan. Ten days later, to capitalize on the commissar's notoriety and to confound skeptics, the Japanese produced Lyushkov at a press conference in Tokyo. For the Japanese and foreign correspondents, who met separately with him, Lyushkov described Soviet Far East strength and the turmoil wracking the USSR, because for those of you unfamiliar this was during the Stalinist purges. Clearly, the Japanese had gained a unique reservoir of high-level intelligence and a wealth of materials, including notes scratched in blood by suspects incarcerated at Khabarovsk. A general tightening of Russian frontier security had recently been reported. Natives of Fangchuanting asserted that a Soviet cavalry patrol appeared in June, seemingly for the first time. Contact with Yangkuanping, northwest of Khasan, was severed. More importantly, Japanese Army Signal Corps intelligence detected a surge of Soviet message traffic from the Posyet Bay district. After Lyushkov's defection, a drastic reshuffle in the local Russian command apparently occurred, and responsibility for border surveillance seems to have been reallocated. Japanese records indicate that the Novokievsk security force commander was relieved and the sector garrison replaced by troops from Vladivostok. Gaimusho intelligence also received reports that a border garrison unit had been transferred from Khabarovsk or Chita to the Tumen sector. The Kwantung Army signal monitors also intercepted two significant frontline messages on 6 July from the new Russian local commander in the Posyet region, addressed to Lieutenant General Sokolov in Khabarovsk. Decoded, the messages suggested (1) that ammunition for infantry mortars amounted to less than half the required supply; and  (2) a recommendation that higher headquarters authorize Russian elements to secure certain unoccupied high ground west of Khasan.  The commander noted terrain advantages and the contemplated construction of emplacements that would command Najin and the Korean railway. As a start, at least one Russian platoon should be authorized to dig in on the highest ground (presumably Changkufeng) and deploy four tons of entanglements to stake out the Soviet claim. Korea Army Headquarters received a telegram from the Kwantung Army on 7 July conveying the deciphered messages. On the same day, the 19th Division in North Korea telephoned Seoul that, on 6 July, three or four Soviet horsemen had been observed reconnoitering Manchurian territory from atop a hill called Changkufeng. The alarming intelligence from the Kwantung Army and the front warranted immediate attention by the Korea Army. Some Kwantung Army officers doubted the significance of the developments, with one intelligence official even suggesting the Russian messages might be a deliberate ploy designed to entrap the Japanese at Changkufeng. On 7–8 July, all staff officers in Seoul convened at army headquarters. The name of Changkufeng Hill was not well known, but maps and other data suggested that neither the Japanese nor the Russians had previously stationed border units in the ridge complex west of Khasan. As early as March 1936, Army Commander Koiso Kuniaki had distributed maps to subordinate units, indicating which sectors were in dispute. No patrol was to enter zones lacking definitive demarcation. Until then, the only Japanese element east of the Tumen was a Manchurian policeman at Fangchuanting. Ownership of the high ground emerged as an early issue. A number of other points were raised by  the Kwantung Army: At present, Soviet elements in the area were negligible. The intrusion must not be overlooked. The Russians could be expected to exploit any weakness, and half-measures would not suffice, especially regarding the Japanese defense mission along a 125-mile frontier. In Japanese hands, Changkufeng Hill would be useful, but two excellent observation posts already existed in the neighboring sector of the Manchurian tongue. With dissidence and purges underway, the Russians may have judged it necessary to seal border gaps, particularly after Lyushkov's defection. They may also have sought to control Changkufeng to offset Japanese dominance of the high ground to the north. Soviet seizure of Changkufeng would upset the delicate status quo and could provoke a contest for equivalent observation posts. In broader terms, it mattered little whether the Russians sought a permanent observation post on Changkufeng Hill, which was of relatively minor strategic value. Japan's primary concern lay in the China theater; Changkufeng was peripheral. The Japanese should not expend limited resources or become distracted. The matter required consultation with the high command in Tokyo. In the absence of more comprehensive intelligence, the assembled staff officers concluded that the Korea Army should, at a minimum, ignore or disregard Soviet actions for the time being, while maintaining vigilant observation of the area. The consensus was communicated to Major General Kitano Kenzo, the Korea Army chief of staff, who concurred, and to Koiso. Upon learning that the recommendation advocated a low posture, Koiso inquired only whether the opinion reflected the unanimous view of the staff. Having been assured that it did, he approved the policy. Koiso, then 58, was at the threshold of the routine personnel changes occurring around 15 July. He had just been informed that he would retire and that General Nakamura Kotaro would succeed him. Those acquainted with Koiso perceived him as treating the border difficulties as a minor anticlimax in the course of his command tour. He appeared unemphatic or relaxed as he prepared to depart from a post he had held for twenty-one years. Although neither Koiso nor his staff welcomed the Soviet activities that appeared under way, his reaction likely reflected a reluctance to make decisions that could constrain his soon-to-arrive successor. On 8 July Koiso authorized the dispatch of warnings to the 19th Division at Nanam, to the Hunchun garrison, and to the intelligence branch at Hunchun. These units were instructed to exercise maximum precautions and to tighten frontier security north of Shuiliufeng. In response to the initial appearance of Soviet horsemen at Changkufeng, the Kucheng Border Garrison Unit of the 76th Infantry Regiment maintained close surveillance across the Tumen. By about noon on 9 July, patrols detected approximately a dozen Russian troops commencing construction atop Changkufeng. Between 11 and 13 July, the number of soldiers on the slopes increased to forty; there were also thirty horses and eleven camouflaged tents. Operating in shifts on the western side, thirty meters from the crest, the Russians erected barbed wire and firing trenches; fifty meters forward, they excavated observation trenches. In addition to existing telephone lines between Changkufeng, Lake Khasan, and Kozando, the Russians installed a portable telephone net. Logistical support was provided by three boats on the lake. Approximately twenty kilometers to the east, well within Soviet territory, large forces were being mobilized, and steamship traffic into Posyet Bay intensified. Upon learning of the "intrusion" at Changkufeng on 9 July, Lt. General Suetaka Kamezo, the commander of the 19th Division, dispatched staff officers to the front and prepared to send elements to reinforce border units.  The special significance of Suetaka and his division stemmed from a series of unusual circumstances. Chientao Province, the same zone into which Lyushkov had fled and the sector where Soviet horsemen had appeared, fell within Manchukuo geographically and administratively. Yet, in terms of defense, the configuration of the frontier, the terrain, and the transportation network more closely connected the region with North Korea than with southeastern Manchuria. Approximately 80% of the population was of Korean origin, which implied Japanese rather than Manchukuoan allegiance. Consequently, the Korea Army had been made operationally responsible for the defense of Chientao and controlled not only the three-battalion garrison at Hunchun but also the intelligence detachment located there. In the event of war, the Korea Army's mission was defined as mobilization and execution of subsidiary operational tasks against the USSR, under the control and in support of the Kwantung Army.  The Korea Army ordinarily possessed two infantry divisions, the 19th in North Korea and the 20th stationed at Seoul, but the 20th Division had already departed for China, leaving only the 20th Depot Division in the capital. Beyond sparse ground units, devoid of armor and with weak heavy artillery, there were only two air regiments in Korea, the nearest being the unit at Hoeryong. The Korea Army was designed to maintain public security within Korea as well as fulfill minimal defensive responsibilities. Such an army did not require a full-time operations officer, and none was maintained. When needed, as in mid-1938, the task fell to the senior staff officer, in this case Colonel Iwasaki Tamio. In peacetime, training constituted the primary focus.  Thus, the 19th Division was entrusted with defending northeastern Korea. Its commander, Suetaka, a seasoned infantryman, resented the fact that his elite force had never engaged in combat in China. He intensified training with zeal, emphasizing strict discipline, bravery, aggressiveness, and thorough preparation. Japanese veterans characterized him as severe, bullish, short-tempered, hot-blooded, highly strung, unbending, and stubborn. Nonetheless, there was widespread respect for his realistic training program, maintained under firm, even violent, personal supervision. His men regarded Suetaka as a professional, a modern samurai who forged the division into superb condition. Privately, he was reputed for sensitivity and warmth; a Japanese phrase "yakamashii oyaji" captures the dual sense of stern father and martinet in his character. At the outset, however, Suetaka displayed little aggression. Although not widely known, he did not welcome the orders from army headquarters to deploy to the Tumen. Until late July, he remained somewhat opposed to the notion of dislodging the Soviets from the crest, a proposition arising from neither the division staff nor, initially, Suetaka himself. Colonel Sato noted that, for a week after reports of Soviet excavation at Changkufeng, the division's response was limited to preparations for a possible emergency, as they perceived the matter as a local issue best settled through diplomacy. Korea Army officers acknowledged that, around the time the Soviets consolidated their outpost strength at Changkufeng, an informal and personal telegram arrived in Seoul from a Kwantung Army Intelligence field-grade officer who specialized in Soviet affairs. If the Korea Army hesitated, the Kwantung Army would be obliged to eject the Russians; the matter could not be ignored. While the telegram did not demand a reply and struck several officers as presumptuous and implausible, the message was promptly shown to Koiso. Koiso was driven to immediate action, he wired Tokyo asserting that only the Korea Army could and would handle the incident. One staff officer recalled "We felt we had to act, out of a sense of responsibility. But we resented the Kwantung Army's interference." The Korea Army staff convened shortly after receipt of the unofficial telegram from Hsinking. Based on the latest intelligence from the division dated 13 July, the officers prepared an assessment for submission to the army commander. The hypotheses were distilled into three scenarios: The USSR, or the Far East authorities, desires hostilities. Conclusion: Slightly possible. The USSR seeks to restrain Japan on the eve of the pivotal operations in China: the major Japanese offensive to seize Hankow. Conclusion: Highly probable. The Posyet district commander is new in his post; by occupying the Changkufeng ridges, he would demonstrate loyalty, impress superiors, and seek glory. Conclusion: Possible. Late on 13 July or early on 14 July, Koiso approved the dispatch of a message to the vice minister of war, and the Kwantung Army chief of staff:  "Lake Khasan area lies in troublesome sector USSR has been claiming . . . in accordance with treaties [said Secret Message No. 913], but we interpret it to be Manchukuoan territory, evident even from maps published by Soviet side. Russian actions are patently illegal, but, considering that area does not exert major or immediate influence on operations [Japan] is intending and that China Incident is in full swing, we are not going to conduct counterattack measures immediately. This army is thinking of reasoning with Soviets and requesting pullback, directly on spot. . . . In case Russians do not accede in long run, we have intention to drive Soviet soldiers out of area east of Khasan firmly by use of force."  The message concluded with a request that the Tokyo authorities lodge a formal protest with the USSR, on behalf of Manchukuo and Japan, and guide matters so that the Russians would withdraw quickly. Dominant in Japanese high command thinking in 1938 was the China theater; the Changkufeng episode constituted a mere digression. A sequence of Japanese tactical victories had preceded the summer: Tsingtao fell in January; the Yellow River was reached in March; a "reformed government of the Republic of China" was installed at Nanking several weeks later; Amoy fell in early May; Suchow fell on the 20th. With these gains, northern and central fronts could be linked by the Japanese. Yet Chinese resistance persisted, and while public statements anticipated imminent Chinese dissension, private admissions acknowledged that the partial effects of Suchow's fall were ominous: control might pass from Chiang Kai-shek to the Communists, Chinese defiance might intensify, and Soviet involvement could ensue. A Hankow drive appeared desirable to symbolize the conclusion of the military phase of hostilities. The Japanese and their adversaries were in accord regarding the importance of the summer and autumn campaigns. Even after Suchow's fall, the government discouraged public insinuations that enemy resistance was collapsing; when Chiang addressed the nation on the first anniversary of hostilities, Premier Konoe prophetically proclaimed, "The war has just begun." Colonel Inada Masazum served as the Army General Staff's principal figure for the Changkufeng affair, occupying the position of chief of the 2nd Operations Section within the Operations Bureau in March 1938. A distinguished graduate of the Military Academy, Inada completed the War College program and held a combination of line, instructional, and staff assignments at the War College, the Army General Staff, and the War Ministry. He was recognized as a sharp, highly capable, and driveful personality, though some regarded him as enigmatic. Following the capture of Suchow, Imperial General Headquarters on 18 June ordered field forces to undertake operational preparations for a drive to seize the Wuhan complex. Inada favored a decisive move aimed at achieving a rapid political settlement. He acknowledged that Soviet intervention in 1938, during Japan's involvement in China, would have been critical. Although Japanese forces could still defeat the Chinese, an overextended Japanese Army might be fatally compromised against the Russians. Soviet assistance to China was already pronouncedly unwelcome. The Soviets were reported to possess roughly 20 rifle divisions, four to five cavalry divisions, 1,500 tanks, and 1,560 aircraft, including 300 bombers with a range of approximately 3,000 kilometers, enabling reach from Vladivostok to Tokyo. Soviet manpower in Siberia was likely near 370,000. In response, Japanese central authorities stressed a no-trouble policy toward the USSR while seeking to "wall off" the border and bolster the Kwantung Army as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, the envisaged correction of the strategic imbalance could not occur before 1943, given shortages in ammunition, manpower, and materiel across existing theaters in China. By the end of 1937 Japan had committed 16 of its 24 divisions to China, bringing the standing force to roughly 700,000. Army General Staff planners reallocated three ground divisions, intended for a northern contingency, from north to central China, even as the Kwantung Army operated from a less favorable posture. Attitudes toward the northern problem varied within senior military circles. While concern persisted, it was not universal. As campaigns in China widened, planning at the high command level deteriorated, propagating confusion and anxiety to field armies in China. The Japanese Navy suspected that the Army general staff was invoking the USSR as a pretext for broader strategic aims—namely, to provoke a more consequential confrontation with the USSR while the Navy contended with its own strategic rivalries with the Army, centered on the United States and Britain. Army leaders, however, denied aggressive intent against the USSR at that time. The Hankow plan encountered substantial internal opposition at high levels. Private assessments among army planners suggested that a two-front war would be premature given operational readiness and troop strength. Not only were new War Ministry officials cautious, but many high-ranking Army general staff officers and court circles shared doubts.  Aggressive tendencies, influenced by subordinates and the Kwantung Army, were evident in Inada, who repeatedly pressed Tada Shun, the deputy army chief of staff, to endorse the Wuhan drive as both necessary and feasible, arguing that the USSR would gain from Japan's weakening without incurring substantial losses. Inada contended that Stalin was rational and that time favored the USSR in the Far East, where industrial buildup and military modernization were ongoing. He argued that the Soviet purges impeded opportunistic ventures with Japan. He posited that Nazi Germany posed a growing threat on the western front, and thus the USSR should be avoided by both Japan, due to China and Russia, due to Germany. While most of the army remained engaged in China, Tada did not initially share Inada's views; only after inspecting the Manchurian borders in April 1938 did he finally align with Inada's broader vision, which encompassed both northern and Chinese considerations. During this period, Inada studied daily intelligence from the Kwantung Army, and after Lyushkov's defection in June, reports suggested the Soviets were following their sector commander's recommendations. Russian troops appeared at Changkufeng, seemingly prepared to dig in. Inada recollects his reaction: "That's nice, my chance has come." I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The simmering Soviet–Japanese border clashes centered on Changkufeng Hill near Lake Khanka, set within a broader history of contested frontiers dating to Qing and Tsarist treaties. Japan, prioritizing China, considered Changkufeng peripheral but ready to confront Soviet encroachment; Moscow aimed to consolidate border gains, with high-level war planning overlaying regional skirmishes. Conflict loomed over Manchuria.

In Japanese-occupied Malaya, an older Chinese immigrant reflects on his arrival to this land in his youth and embarks on a daring rescue. Copyright © 2025 khōréō magazine. Story by Joshua Lim, edited by Zhui Ning Chang. Audio edition read by Sam Yeow, with production by Aaron Kling and casting by Jenelle DeCosta. Subscribe to khōréō at Weightless Books or on Patreon. Visit khoreomag.com for more stories and follow us on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook @KhoreoMag for the latest news and updates. Music: This Too Shall Pass by Scott Buckley https://soundcloud.com/scottbuckley Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported CC BY 3.0

Last time we spoke about the Nanjing Massacre. Japanese forces breached Nanjing as Chinese defenders retreated under heavy bombardment, and the city fell on December 13. In the following weeks, civilians and disarmed soldiers endured systematic slaughter, mass executions, rapes, looting, and arson, with casualties mounting rapidly. Among the most brutal episodes were hundreds of executions near the Safety Zone, mass shootings along the Yangtze River, and killings at improvised sites and “killing fields.” The massacre involved tens of thousands of prisoners, with estimates up to 300,000 victims. Women and children were subjected to widespread rape, mutilation, and terror intended to crush morale and resistance. Although the Safety Zone saved many lives, it could not shield all refugees from harm, and looting and arson devastated large parts of the city. Foreign witnesses, missionaries, and diary entries documented the extensive brutality and the apparent premeditated nature of many acts, noting the collapse of discipline among troops and orders that shaped the violence.    #169 Nanjing has Fallen, the War is not Over Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. Directly after the fall of Nanjing, rumors circulated among the city's foreigners that Tang Shengzhi had been executed for his inability to hold the city against the Japanese onslaught. In fact, unlike many of his subordinates who fought in the defense, he survived. On December 12, he slipped through Yijiang Gate, where bullets from the 36th Division had claimed numerous victims, and sailed across the Yangtze to safety. Chiang Kai-shek protected him from bearing direct consequences for Nanjing's collapse. Tang was not unscathed, however. After the conquest of Nanjing, a dejected Tang met General Li Zongren at Xuzhou Railway Station. In a brief 20-minute conversation, Tang lamented, “Sir, Nanjing's fall has been unexpectedly rapid. How can I face the world?” Li, who had previously taunted Tang for over-eagerness, offered sympathy. “Don't be discouraged. Victory or defeat comes every day for the soldier. Our war of resistance is a long-term proposition. The loss of one city is not decisive.” By December 1937, the outlook for Chiang Kai-shek's regime remained bleak. Despite his public pledges, he had failed to defend the capital. Its sturdy walls, which had withstood earlier sieges, were breached in less than 100 hours. Foreign observers remained pessimistic about the prospects of continuing the fight against Japan. The New York Times wrote “The capture of Nanking was the most overwhelming defeat suffered by the Chinese and one of the most tragic military debacles in modern warfare. In defending Nanking, the Chinese allowed themselves to be surrounded and then slaughtered… The graveyard of tens of thousands of Chinese soldiers may also be the graveyard of all Chinese hopes of resisting conquest by Japan.” Foreign diplomats doubted Chiang's ability to sustain the war, shrinking the question to whether he would stubbornly continue a losing fight or seek peace. US Ambassador Nelson Johnson wrote in a letter to Admiral Yarnell, then commander of the US Asicatic Fleet “There is little left now for the Chinese to do except to carry on a desultory warfare in the country, or to negotiate for the best terms they can get”.  The Japanese, too, acted as if Chiang Kai-shek had already lost the war. They assumed the generalissimo was a spent force in Chinese politics as well, and that a gentle push would suffice to topple his regime like a house of cards. On December 14, Prime Minister Konoe announced that Chiang's losses of Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and now Nanjing, had created a new situation. “The National Government has become but a shadow of its former self. If a new Chinese regime emerged to replace Chiang's government, Japan would deal with it, provided it is a regime headed in the right direction.” Konoe spoke the same day as a Liaison Conference in Tokyo, where civilian and military leaders debated how to treat China now that it had been thoroughly beaten on the battlefield. Japanese demands had grown significantly: beyond recognizing Manchukuo, Japan pressed for the creation of pro-Japanese regimes in Inner Mongolia and the north China area. The same day, a puppet government was established in Japanese-occupied Beijing. While these demands aimed to end China as a unitary state, Japanese policy was moving toward the same goal. The transmissions of these demands via German diplomatic channels caused shock and consternation in Chinese government circles, and the Chinese engaged in what many regarded as stalling tactics. Even at this late stage, there was division among Japan's top decision makers. Tada, deputy chief of the Army General Staff, feared a protracted war in China and urged keeping negotiations alive. He faced strong opposition from the cabinet, including the foreign minister and the ministers of the army and navy, and ultimately he relented. Tada stated “In this state of emergency, it is necessary to avoid any political upheaval that might arise from a struggle between the Cabinet and the Army General Staff.” Although he disagreed, he no longer challenged the uncompromising stance toward China. On January 16, 1938, Japan publicly stated that it would “cease henceforth to deal with” Chiang Kai-shek. This was a line that could not be uncrossed. War was the only option. Germany, the mediator between China and Japan, also considered Chiang a losing bet. In late January 1938, von Dirksen, the German ambassador in Tokyo, urged a fundamental shift in German diplomacy and advocated abandoning China in favor of Japan. He warned that this was a matter of urgency, since Japan harbored grudges against Germany for its half-hearted peace efforts. In a report, von Dirksen wrote that Japan, “in her deep ill humor, will confront us with unpleasant decisions at an inopportune moment.” Von Dirksen's view carried the day in Berlin. Nazi Germany and Hirohito's Japan were on a trajectory that, within three years, would forge the Axis and place Berlin and Tokyo in the same camp in a conflict that would eventually span the globe. Rabe, who returned to Germany in 1938, found that his account of Japanese atrocities in Nanjing largely fell on deaf ears. He was even visited by the Gestapo, which apparently pressed him to keep quiet about what he had seen. Ambassador von Dirksen also argued in his January 1938 report that China should be abandoned because of its increasingly friendly ties with the Soviet Union. There was some merit to this claim. Soviet aid to China was substantial: by the end of 1937, 450 Soviet aviators were serving in China. Without them, Japan likely would have enjoyed air superiority. Chiang Kai-shek, it seemed, did not fully understand the Russians' motives. They were supplying aircraft and pilots to keep China in the war while keeping themselves out. After Nanjing's fall, Chiang nevertheless reached out to Joseph Stalin, inviting direct Soviet participation in the war. Stalin politely declined, noting that if the Soviet Union joined the conflict, “the world would say the Soviet Union was an aggressor, and sympathy for Japan around the world would immediately increase.” In a rare moment of candor a few months later, the Soviet deputy commissar for foreign affairs spoke with the French ambassador, describing the situation in China as “splendid.” He expected China to continue fighting for several more years, after which Japan would be too weakened to undertake major operations against the Soviet Union. It was clear that China was being used. Whatever the motive, China was receiving vital help from Stalin's Russia while the rest of the world stood on the sidelines, reluctant to upset Japan. Until Operation Barbarossa, when the Soviet Union was forced to the brink by the German Army and could no longer sustain extensive overseas aid, it supplied China with 904 planes, 1,516 trucks, 1,140 artillery pieces, 9,720 machine guns, 50,000 rifles, 31,600 bombs, and more. Despite all of this, all in all, China's position proved less disastrous than many observers had feared. Chinese officials later argued that the battle of Nanjing was not the unmitigated fiasco it appeared to be. Tang Shengzhi had this to say in his memoirs“I think the main purpose of defending Nanjing was to buy time, to allow troops that had just been pulled out of battle to rest and regroup. It wasn't simply because it was the capital or the site of Sun Yat-sen's mausoleum.” Tan Daoping, an officer in Nanjing, described the battle “as a moderate success because it drew the Japanese in land”. This of course was a strategy anticipated by interwar military thinker Jiang Baili. It also allowed dozens of Chinese divisions to escape Shanghai, since the Japanese forces that could have pursued them were tied down with the task of taking Nanjing. Tan Daoping wrote after the war “They erred in believing they could wage a quick war and decide victory immediately. Instead, their dream was shattered; parts of their forces were worn out, and they were hindered from achieving a swift end”. Even so, it was a steep price was paid in Chinese lives. As in Shanghai, the commanders in Nanjing thought they could fight on the basis of sheer willpower. Chinese officer Qin Guo Qi wrote in his memoirs “In modern war, you can't just rely on the spirit of the troops. You can't merely rely on physical courage and stamina. The battle of Nanjing explains that better than anything”. As for the Brigade commander of the 87th division, Chen Yiding, who emerged from Nanjing with only a few hundred survivors, was enraged. “During the five days of the battle for Nanjing, my superiors didn't see me even once. They didn't do their duty. They also did not explain the overall deployments in the Nanjing area. What's worse, they didn't give us any order to retreat. And afterwards I didn't hear of any commander being disciplined for failing to do his job.” Now back in November of 1937, Chiang Kai-shek had moved his command to the great trinity of Wuhan. For the Nationalists, Wuhan was a symbolically potent stronghold: three municipalities in one, Hankou, Wuchang, and Hanyang. They had all grown prosperous as gateways between coastal China and the interior. But the autumn disasters of 1937 thrust Wuhan into new prominence, and, a decade after it had ceased to be the temporary capital, it again became the seat of military command and resistance. Leading Nationalist politicians had been seen in the city in the months before the war, fueling suspicions that Wuhan would play a major role in any imminent conflict. By the end of the year, the generals and their staffs, along with most of the foreign embassies, had moved upriver. Yet as 1937 slipped into 1938, the Japanese advance seemed practically unstoppable. From the destruction of Shanghai, to the massacre in Nanjing, to the growing vulnerability of Wuhan, the NRA government appeared powerless against the onslaught.  Now the Japanese government faced several options: expanding the scope of the war to force China into submission, which would risk further depletion of Japan's military and economic resources; establishing an alternative regime in China as a bridge for reconciliation, thereby bypassing the Nationalist government for negotiations; and engaging in indirect or direct peace negotiations with the Nationalist Government, despite the failure of previous attempts, while still seeking new opportunities for negotiation. However, the Nanjing massacre did not compel the Chinese government and its people to submit. On January 2, Chiang Kai-shek wrote in his diary, “The conditions proposed by Japan are equivalent to the conquest and extinction of our country. Rather than submitting and perishing, it is better to perish in defeat,” choosing to refuse negotiations and continue resistance.  In January 1938 there was a new escalation of hostilities. Up to that point, Japan had not officially declared war, even during the Shanghai campaign and the Nanjing massacre. However on January 11, an Imperial Conference was held in Tokyo in the presence of Emperor Hirohito. Prime Minister Konoe outlined a “Fundamental Policy to deal with the China Incident.”The Imperial Conference was attended by Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe, Army Chief of Staff Prince Kan'in, Navy Minister Admiral Fushimi, and others to reassess its policy toward China. Citing the Nationalist Government's delay and lack of sincerity, the Japanese leadership decided to terminate Trautmann's mediation. At the conference, Japan articulated a dual strategy: if the Nationalist Government did not seek peace, Japan would no longer regard it as a viable negotiating partner, instead supporting emerging regimes, seeking to resolve issues through incidents, and aiming either to eliminate or incorporate the existing central government; if the Nationalist Government sought reconciliation, it would be required to cease resistance, cooperate with Japan against communism, and pursue economic cooperation, including officially recognizing Manchukuo and allowing Japanese troops in Inner Mongolia, North China, Central China, and co-governance of Shanghai. The Konoe cabinet relayed this proposal to the German ambassador in Japan on December 22, 1937: It called for: diplomatic recognition of Manchukuo; autonomy for Inner Mongolia; cessation of all anti-Japanese and anti-Manchukuo policies; cooperation between Japan, Manchukuo, and China against communism; war reparations; demilitarized zones in North China and Inner Mongolia; and a trade agreement among Japan, Manchukuo, and China.  Its terms were too severe, including reparations payable to Japan and new political arrangements that would formalize the separation of north China under Japanese control. Chiang's government would have seventy-two hours to accept; if they refused, Tokyo would no longer recognize the Nationalist government and would seek to destroy it.  On January 13, 1938, the Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Chonghui informed Germany that China needed a fuller understanding of the additional conditions for peace talks to make a decision. The January 15 deadline for accepting Japan's terms elapsed without Chinese acceptance. Six days after the deadline for a Chinese government reply, an Imperial Conference “Gozen Kaigi” was convened in Tokyo to consider how to handle Trautmann's mediation. The navy, seeing the war as essentially an army matter, offered no strong position; the army pressed for ending the war through diplomatic means, arguing that they faced a far more formidable Far Eastern Soviet threat at the northern Manchukuo border and wished to avoid protracted attrition warfare. Foreign Minister Kōki Hirota, however, strongly disagreed with the army, insisting there was no viable path to Trautmann's mediation given the vast gap between Chinese and Japanese positions. A second conference followed on January 15, 1938, attended by the empire's principal cabinet members and military leaders, but without the emperor's presence. The debate grew heated over whether to continue Trautmann's mediation. Hayao Tada, Deputy Chief of Army General Staff, argued for continuation, while Konoe, Hirota, Navy Minister Mitsumasa Yonai, and War Minister Hajime Sugiyama opposed him. Ultimately, Tada acceded to the position of Konoe and Hirota. On the same day, Konoe conveyed the cabinet's conclusion, termination of Trautmann's mediation, to the emperor. The Japanese government then issued a statement on January 16 declaring that it would no longer treat the Nationalist Government as a bargaining partner, signaling the establishment of a new Chinese regime that would cooperate with Japan and a realignment of bilateral relations. This became known as the first Konoe statement, through which Tokyo formally ended Trautmann's mediation attempt. The Chinese government was still weighing its response when, at noon on January 16, Konoe publicly declared, “Hereafter, the Imperial Government will not deal with the National Government.” In Japanese, this became the infamous aite ni sezu (“absolutely no dealing”). Over the following days, the Japanese government made it clear that this was a formal breach of relations, “stronger even than a declaration of war,” in the words of Foreign Minister Hirota Kōki. The Chinese ambassador to Japan, who had been in Tokyo for six months since hostilities began, was finally recalled. At the end of January, Chiang summoned a military conference and declared that the top strategic priority would be to defend the east-central Chinese city of Xuzhou, about 500 kilometers north of Wuhan. This decision, like the mobilization near Lugouqiao, was heavily influenced by the railway: Xuzhou sat at the midpoint of the Tianjin–Pukou Jinpu line, and its seizure would grant the Japanese mastery over north–south travel in central China. The Jinpu line also crossed the Longhai line, China's main cross-country artery from Lanzhou to the port of Lianyungang, north of Shanghai. The Japanese military command marked the Jinpu line as a target in spring 1938. Control over Xuzhou and the rail lines threading through it were thus seen as vital to the defense of Wuhan, which lay to the city's south. Chiang's defense strategy fit into a larger plan evolving since the 1920s, when the military thinker Jiang Baili had first proposed a long war against Japan; Jiang's foresight earned him a position as an adviser to Chiang in 1938. Jiang had previously run the Baoding military academy, a predecessor of the Whampoa academy, which had trained many of China's finest young officers in the early republic 1912–1922. Now, many of the generals who had trained under Jiang gathered in Wuhan and would play crucial roles in defending the city: Chen Cheng, Bai Chongxi, Tang Shengzhi, and Xue Yue. They remained loyal to Chiang but sought to avoid his tendency to micromanage every aspect of strategy.  Nobody could say with certainty whether Wuhan would endure the Japanese onslaught, and outsiders' predictions were gloomy. As Wuhan's inhabitants tasted their unexpected new freedoms, the Japanese pressed on with their conquest of central China. After taking Nanjing, the IJA 13th Division crossed the Yangtze River to the north and advanced to the Outang and Mingguang lines on the east bank of the Chihe River in Anhui Province, while the 2nd Army of the North China Front crossed the Yellow River to the south between Qingcheng and Jiyang in Shandong, occupied Jinan, and pressed toward Jining, Mengyin, and Qingdao. To open the Jinpu Railway and connect the northern and southern battlefields, the Japanese headquarters mobilized eight divisions, three brigades, and two detachments , totaling about 240,000 men. They were commanded by General Hata Shunroku, commander of the Central China Expeditionary Army, and Terauchi Hisaichi, commander of the North China Front Army. Their plan was a north–south advance: first seize Xuzhou, a strategic city in east China; then take Zhengzhou in the west along the Longhai Railway connecting Lanzhou and Lianyungang; and finally push toward Wuhan in the south along the Pinghan Railway connecting Beijing and Hankou. At the beginning of 1938, Japan's domestic mobilization and military reorganization had not yet been completed, and there was a shortage of troops to expand the front. At the Emperor's Imperial Conference on February 16, 1938, the General Staff Headquarters argued against launching operations before the summer of 1938, preferring to consolidate the front in 1938 and undertake a large-scale battle in 1939. Although the Northern China Expeditionary Force and the Central China Expeditionary Force proposed a plan to open the Jinpu Line to connect the northern and southern battlefields, the proposal was not approved by the domestic General Staff Headquarters. The Chinese army, commanded by Li Zongren, commander-in-chief of the Fifth War Zone, mobilized about 64 divisions and three brigades, totaling roughly 600,000 men. The main force was positioned north of Xuzhou to resist the southern Japanese advance, with a portion deployed along the southern Jinpu Railway to block the southern push and secure Xuzhou. Early in the campaign, Chiang Kai-shek redeployed the heavy artillery brigade originally promised to Han Fuju to Tang Enbo's forces. To preserve his strength, Shandong Provincial Governor Han Fuju abandoned the longstanding Yellow River defenses in Shandong, allowing the Japanese to capture the Shandong capital of Jinan in early March 1938. This defection opened the Jinpu Railway to attack. The Japanese 10th Division, under Rensuke Isogai, seized Tai'an, Jining, and Dawenkou, ultimately placing northern Shandong under Japanese control. The aim was to crush the Chinese between the two halves of a pincer movement. At Yixian and Huaiyuan, north of Xuzhou, both sides fought to the death: the Chinese could not drive back the Japanese, but the Japanese could not scatter the defenders either. At Linyi, about 50 kilometers northeast of Xuzhou, Zhang Zizhong, who had previously disgraced himself by abandoning an earlier battlefield—became a national hero for his determined efforts to stop the Japanese troops led by Itagaki Seishirō, the conqueror of Manchuria. The Japanese hoped that they could pour in as many as 400,000 troops to destroy the Chinese forces holding eastern and central China. Chiang Kai-shek was determined that this should not happen, recognizing that the fall of Xuzhou would place Wuhan in extreme danger. On April 1, 1938, he addressed Nationalist Party delegates, linking the defense of Wuhan to the fate of the party itself. He noted that although the Japanese had invaded seven provinces, they had only captured provincial capitals and main transport routes, while villages and towns off those routes remained unconquered. The Japanese, he argued, might muster more than half a million soldiers, but after eight or nine months of hard fighting they had become bogged down. Chiang asserted that as long as Guangzhou (Canton) remained in Chinese hands, it would be of little significance if the Japanese invaded Wuhan, since Guangzhou would keep China's sea links open and Guangdong, Sun Yat-sen's homeland, would serve as a revolutionary base area. If the “woren” Japanese “dwarfs” attacked Wuhan and Guangzhou, it would cost them dearly and threaten their control over the occupied zones. He reiterated his plan: “the base area for our war will not be in the zones east of the Beiping–Wuhan or Wuhan–Guangdong railway lines, but to their west.” For this reason he authorized withdrawing Chinese troops behind the railway lines. Chiang's speech mixed defiance with an explanation of why regrouping was necessary; it was a bold public posture in the face of a developing military disaster, yet it reflected the impossible balance he faced between signaling resolve and avoiding overcommitment of a city that might still fall. Holding Xuzhou as the first priority required Chiang Kai-shek to place a great deal of trust in one of his rivals: the southwestern general Li Zongren. The relationship between Chiang and Li would become one of the most ambivalent in wartime China. Li hailed from Guangxi, a province in southwestern China long regarded by the eastern heartland as half civilized. Its people had rarely felt fully part of the empire ruled from Beijing or even Nanjing, and early in the republic there was a strong push for regional autonomy. Li was part of a cohort of young officers trained in regional academies who sought to bring Guangxi under national control; he joined the Nationalist Party in 1923, the year Sun Yat-sen announced his alliance with the Soviets. Li was not a Baoding Academy graduate but had trained at Yunnan's equivalent institution, which shared similar views on military professionalism. He enthusiastically took part in the Northern Expedition (1926–1928) and played a crucial role in the National Revolutionary Army's ascent to control over much of north China. Yet after the Nanjing government took power, Li grew wary of Chiang's bid to centralize authority in his own person. In 1930 Li's so‑called “Guangxi clique” participated in the Central Plains War, the failed effort by militarist leaders to topple Chiang; although the plot failed, Li retreated to his southwest base, ready to challenge Chiang again. The occupation of Manchuria in 1931 reinforced Li's belief that a Japanese threat posed a greater danger than Chiang's centralization. The tension between the two men was evident from the outset of the war. On October 10, 1937, Chiang appointed Li commander of the Fifth War Zone; Li agreed on the condition that Chiang refrain from issuing shouling—personal commands—to Li's subordinates. Chiang complied, a sign of the value he placed on Li's leadership and the caution with which he treated Li and his Guangxi ally Bai Chongxi. As Chiang sought any possible victory amid retreat and destruction, he needed Li to deliver results. As part of the public-relations front, journalists were given access to commanders on the Xuzhou front. Li and his circle sought to shape their image as capable leaders to visiting reporters, with Du Zhongyuan among the most active observers. Du praised the “formidable southwestern general, Li Zongren,” calling him “elegant and refined” and “vastly magnanimous.” In language echoing the era's soldiers' public presentation, Du suggested that Li's forces operated under strict, even disciplined, orders “The most important point in the people's war is that . . . troops do not harass the people of the country. If the people are the water, the soldiers are the fish, and if you have fish with no water, inevitably they're going to choke; worse still is to use our water to nurture the enemy's fish — that really is incomparably stupid”.  Within the southern front, on January 26, 1938, the Japanese 13th Division attacked Fengyang and Bengbu in Anhui Province, while Li Pinxian, Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the 5th War Zone, directed operations south of Xuzhou. The defending 31st Corps of the 11th Group Army, after resisting on the west bank of the Chi River, retreated to the west of Dingyuan and Fengyang. By February 3, the Japanese had captured Linhuai Pass and Bengbu. From the 9th to the 10th, the main force of the 13th Division forced a crossing of the Huai River at Bengbu and Linhuai Pass respectively, and began an offensive against the north bank. The 51st Corps, reorganized from the Central Plains Northeast Army and led by Commander Yu Xuezhong, engaged in fierce combat with the Japanese. Positions on both sides of the Huai shifted repeatedly, producing a riverine bloodbath through intense hand-to-hand fighting. After ten days of engagement, the Fifth War Zone, under Zhang Zizhong, commander of the 59th Army, rushed to the Guzhen area to reinforce the 51st Army, and the two forces stubbornly resisted the Japanese on the north bank of the Huai River. Meanwhile, on the south bank, the 48th Army of the 21st Group Army held the Luqiao area, while the 7th Army, in coordination with the 31st Army, executed a flanking attack on the flanks and rear of the Japanese forces in Dingyuan, compelling the main body of the 13th Division to redeploy to the north bank for support. Seizing the initiative, the 59th and 51st Armies launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming all positions north of the Huai River by early March. The 31st Army then moved from the south bank to the north, and the two sides faced across the river. Subsequently, the 51st and 59th Armies were ordered to reinforce the northern front, while the 31st Army continued to hold the Huai River to ensure that all Chinese forces covering the Battle of Xuzhou were safely withdrawn. Within the northern front, in late February, the Japanese Second Army began its southward push along multiple routes. The eastern axis saw the 5th Division moving south from Weixian present-day Weifang, in Shandong, capturing Yishui, Juxian, and Rizhao before pressing directly toward Linyi, as units of the Nationalist Third Corps' 40th Army and others mounted strenuous resistance. The 59th Army was ordered to reinforce and arrived on March 12 at the west bank of the Yi River in the northern suburbs of Linyi, joining the 40th Army in a counterattack that, after five days and nights of ferocious fighting, inflicted heavy losses on the Japanese and forced them to retreat toward Juxian. On the western route, the Seya Detachment (roughly a brigade) of the Japanese 10th Division crossed the Grand Canal from Jining and attacked Jiaxiang, meeting stiff resistance from the Third Army and being thwarted, while continuing to advance south along the Jinpu Railway. The Isogai Division, advancing on the northern route without awaiting help from the southeast and east, moved southward from Liangxiadian, south of Zouxian, on March 14, with the plan to strike Tengxian, present-day Tengzhou on March 15 and push south toward Xuzhou. The defending 22nd Army and the 41st Corps fought bravely and suffered heavy casualties in a hard battle that lasted until March 17, during which Wang Mingzhang, commander of the 122nd Division defending Teng County, was killed in action. Meanwhile, a separate Japanese thrust under Itagaki Seishirō landed on the Jiaodong Peninsula and occupied Qingdao, advancing along the Jiaoji Line to strike Linyi, a key military town in southern Shandong. Pang Bingxun's 40th Army engaged the invaders in fierce combat, and later, elements of Zhang Zizhong's 333rd Brigade of the 111th Division, reinforced by the 57th Army, joined Pang Bingxun's forces to launch a double-sided pincer that temporarily repelled the Japanese attack on Linyi. By late March 1938 a frightening reality loomed: the Japanese were close to prevailing on the Xuzhou front. The North China Area Army, commanded by Itagaki Seishirō, Nishio Toshizō, and Isogai Rensuke, was poised to link up with the Central China Expeditionary Force under Hata Shunroku in a united drive toward central China. Li Zongren, together with his senior lieutenants Bai Chongxi and Tang Enbo, decided to confront the invaders at Taierzhuang, the traditional stone-walled city that would become a focal point of their defense. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Nanjing falls after one of humanities worst atrocities. Chiang Kai-Shek's war command has been pushed to Wuhan, but the Japanese are not stopping their advance. Trautmann's mediation is over and now Japan has its sights on Xuzhou and its critical railway junctions. Japan does not realize it yet, but she is now entering a long war of attrition.

Today, we're going to talk about Japanese counters.In Japanese, when you count things, you often need a special word.It seems that many Japanese learners feel overwhelmed by having to memorize so many different counters. Honestly, even as a native speaker, I sometimes feel the same way.But through today's episode, I hope you'll feel a little more confident using Japanese counters! Please enjoy listening!

Why leaders must nurture ideas if they want innovation to thrive in Japan People are more creative than they give themselves credit for, yet many work environments suppress rather than encourage innovation. Brainstorming sessions often produce nothing but wasted calendar space, or worse, good ideas that die on arrival because no one champions them. In Japan and globally, corporate graveyards are filled with unrealised concepts. Leaders must understand that creativity is not a one-off spark—it's a journey that requires cultivation, sponsorship, and careful timing. Why do so many good ideas die inside companies? Most ideas never make it past the brainstorming stage. Either nothing actionable emerges, or promising suggestions are quietly buried. Even in companies with innovation-friendly cultures, ideas face hurdles before they can be applied. Lack of sponsorship, risk aversion, and overloaded leadership pipelines kill innovation before it matures. In Japan, this is amplified by hierarchical decision-making. Ideas often stall before reaching senior management because middle managers, stretched thin and politically cautious, block their path. Without a system to shepherd ideas upward, they disappear. Mini-Summary: Good ideas often fail because they lack sponsorship, timing, or pathways upward—especially in Japan's hierarchical organisations. Where do creative ideas come from? Ideas start with individuals. Inspiration can come from anywhere—external networks, professional communities, or day-to-day frustrations. The broader an employee's networks, the higher the likelihood of fresh sparks. The problem is engagement. In Japan, only about 5–7% of employees rank as “highly engaged” in surveys. That means most staff aren't motivated to generate or push ideas. Without engagement, even the most creative sparks fizzle. Leaders must connect daily work to purpose so employees see why innovation matters. Mini-Summary: Creative ideas emerge from individuals with broad networks and high engagement—but in Japan, low engagement is a major innovation barrier. How can leaders cultivate employee ideas? Cultivation requires more than slogans about innovation. Leaders must make purpose explicit, encourage risk-taking, and reward those who step outside comfort zones. If junior staff can't articulate the company's “why,” their ideas will lack direction. In Japan, where conformity often trumps experimentation, leaders must show daily that trying new things is safe. Recognising effort, even when ideas fail, builds confidence. The way leaders treat innovators—successes and failures alike—sets the tone for the whole organisation. Mini-Summary: Leaders cultivate ideas by clarifying purpose, rewarding risk-taking, and encouraging experimentation—even in failure. Why do smart ideas need sponsors and champions? Ideas rarely succeed alone. They need collaborators to refine them and sponsors to promote them. Expecting to walk straight into a boardroom with a raw idea is unrealistic. Allies, mentors, and champions must first shepherd it through the system. In Japanese firms, where harmony is prized, ideas must often be “harmonised” at lower levels before reaching executives. Champions play a critical role in ensuring promising concepts aren't lost to politics or hierarchy. Mini-Summary: Ideas need allies and champions to survive the political journey inside companies, especially in hierarchical Japan. How does timing affect idea success? Even brilliant ideas fail if introduced at the wrong time. Microsoft famously launched its Tablet PC years before the iPad, and its SPOT Watch long before the Apple Watch. Both flopped, not because the ideas were bad, but because the market wasn't ready. In Japan, timing is especially crucial when companies face cost-cutting or conservative leadership cycles. Innovation requires resources—time, talent, and money—which are scarce during downturns. Leaders must align idea introduction with corporate readiness. Mini-Summary: Timing can make or break ideas—introduce them too early or in the wrong climate, and they will fail regardless of quality. What systems help ideas travel upward? Without an “express lane” for good ideas, most are trapped in corporate silos. Middle managers, often protective of their turf, can stall innovation. Creating formal pathways that allow vetted ideas to reach senior leaders quickly is essential. Some global companies use innovation labs or dedicated sponsorship committees to fast-track ideas. In Japan, establishing such systems prevents good ideas from being smothered by bureaucracy or politics. Leaders who create express lanes differentiate themselves and unlock competitive advantage. Mini-Summary: Formal “express lanes” help promising ideas bypass bureaucracy and reach top decision-makers, ensuring innovation isn't lost. Conclusion The creative idea journey within companies is long and fraught with obstacles. Ideas require engaged employees, cultivation, sponsorship, careful timing, and systems that allow them to travel upward. In Japan's conservative corporate culture, leaders must work even harder to ensure innovation isn't stifled by hierarchy or risk aversion. The true white-collar crime of leadership is failing to apply ideas that could have transformed the business. About the Author Dr. Greg Story, Ph.D. in Japanese Decision-Making, is President of Dale Carnegie Tokyo Training and Adjunct Professor at Griffith University. He is a two-time winner of the Dale Carnegie “One Carnegie Award” (2018, 2021) and recipient of the Griffith University Business School Outstanding Alumnus Award (2012). As a Dale Carnegie Master Trainer, Greg is certified to deliver globally across all leadership, communication, sales, and presentation programs, including Leadership Training for Results. He has written several books, including three best-sellers — Japan Business Mastery, Japan Sales Mastery, and Japan Presentations Mastery — along with Japan Leadership Mastery and How to Stop Wasting Money on Training. His works have also been translated into Japanese, including Za Eigyō (ザ営業), Purezen no Tatsujin (プレゼンの達人), Torēningu de Okane o Muda ni Suru no wa Yamemashō (トレーニングでお金を無駄にするのはやめましょう), and Gendaiban “Hito o Ugokasu” Rīdā (現代版「人を動かす」リーダー). In addition to his books, Greg publishes daily blogs on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter, offering practical insights on leadership, communication, and Japanese business culture. He is also the host of six weekly podcasts, including The Leadership Japan Series, The Sales Japan Series, The Presentations Japan Series, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews. On YouTube, he produces three weekly shows — The Cutting Edge Japan Business Show, Japan Business Mastery, and Japan's Top Business Interviews — which have become leading resources for executives seeking strategies for success in Japan.

Thank you very much for joining us for Make Japa Great Again. It's our main objective in our practice of Bhakti Yoga to make japa great. Everything else falls into place when that's correct. In Japanese, there's a word hazu. In an arrow here's a little groove or a notch where you drop the bow into so you can shoot it, and that's called the hazu. So, that word is used when people are talking about something that was appropriate, that fit. And so when our japa is correct, we have hazu. That means everything else fits perfectly in our life. If we don't have that, then it doesn't matter what else we do; we'll shoot the arrow in the wrong direction, or it won't shoot at all. So, this is our main service. We have full permission from Mahaprabhu and all our acharyas to give ourselves fully to the process of chanting japa. No one will fault you for that if you shut off everything else and schedule time just for japa. And if they do, they're not the kind of people you want to have in your life anyway. ------------------------------------------------------------ To connect with His Grace Vaiśeṣika Dāsa, please visit https://www.fanthespark.com/next-steps/ask-vaisesika-dasa/ ------------------------------------------------------------ Add to your wisdom literature collection: https://iskconsv.com/book-store/ https://www.bbtacademic.com/books/ https://thefourquestionsbook.com/ ------------------------------------------------------------ Join us live on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FanTheSpark/ Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sound-bhakti/id1132423868 For the latest videos, subscribe https://www.youtube.com/@FanTheSpark For the latest in SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/fan-the-spark ------------------------------------------------------------ #makejapagreatagain #mantrameditation #chantharekrishnaandbehappy #spiritualawakening #soul #spiritualexperience #spiritualpurposeoflife #spiritualgrowthlessons #secretsofspirituality #vaisesikaprabhu #vaisesikadasa #vaisesikaprabhulectures #spirituality #bhaktiyoga #krishna #spiritualpurposeoflife #krishnaspirituality #spiritualusachannel #whybhaktiisimportant #whyspiritualityisimportant #vaisesika #spiritualconnection #thepowerofspiritualstudy #selfrealization #spirituallectures #spiritualstudy #spiritualquestions #spiritualquestionsanswered #trendingspiritualtopics #fanthespark #spiritualpowerofmeditation #spiritualteachersonyoutube #spiritualhabits #spiritualclarity #bhagavadgita #srimadbhagavatam #spiritualbeings #kttvg #keepthetranscendentalvibrationgoing #spiritualpurpose

fWotD Episode 2941: Chinese characters Welcome to Featured Wiki of the Day, your daily dose of knowledge from Wikipedia's finest articles.The featured article for Saturday, 24 May 2025, is Chinese characters.Chinese characters are logographs used to write the Chinese languages and others from regions historically influenced by Chinese culture. Of the four independently invented writing systems accepted by scholars, they represent the only one that has remained in continuous use. Over a documented history spanning more than three millennia, the function, style, and means of writing characters have changed greatly. Unlike letters in alphabets that reflect the sounds of speech, Chinese characters generally represent morphemes, the units of meaning in a language. Writing all of the frequently used vocabulary in a language requires roughly 2000–3000 characters; as of 2024, nearly 100000 have been identified and included in The Unicode Standard. Characters are created according to several principles, where aspects of shape and pronunciation may be used to indicate the character's meaning.The first attested characters are oracle bone inscriptions made during the 13th century BCE in what is now Anyang, Henan, as part of divinations conducted by the Shang dynasty royal house. Character forms were originally ideographic or pictographic in style, but evolved as writing spread across China. Numerous attempts have been made to reform the script, including the promotion of small seal script by the Qin dynasty (221–206 BCE). Clerical script, which had matured by the early Han dynasty (202 BCE – 220 CE), abstracted the forms of characters—obscuring their pictographic origins in favour of making them easier to write. Following the Han, regular script emerged as the result of cursive influence on clerical script, and has been the primary style used for characters since. Informed by a long tradition of lexicography, states using Chinese characters have standardized their forms—broadly, simplified characters are used to write Chinese in mainland China, Singapore, and Malaysia, while traditional characters are used in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Macau.Where the use of characters spread beyond China, they were initially used to write Literary Chinese; they were then often adapted to write local languages spoken throughout the Sinosphere. In Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese, Chinese characters are known as kanji, hanja, and chữ Hán respectively. Writing traditions also emerged for some of the other languages of China, like the sawndip script used to write the Zhuang languages of Guangxi. Each of these written vernaculars used existing characters to write the language's native vocabulary, as well as the loanwords it borrowed from Chinese. In addition, each invented characters for local use. In written Korean and Vietnamese, Chinese characters have largely been replaced with alphabets—leaving Japanese as the only major non-Chinese language still written using them, alongside the other elements of the Japanese writing system.At the most basic level, characters are composed of strokes that are written in a fixed order. Historically, methods of writing characters have included inscribing stone, bone, or bronze; brushing ink onto silk, bamboo, or paper; and printing with woodblocks or moveable type. Technologies invented since the 19th century to facilitate the use of characters include telegraph codes and typewriters, as well as input methods and text encodings on computers.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:48 UTC on Saturday, 24 May 2025.For the full current version of the article, see Chinese characters on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm neural Ayanda.

In Japanese culture, the blossoming of the Cherry Tree represents an ancient code of honor. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Japanese, “ダイエット” (diet) usually means losing weight, while in English, “diet” refers to one's eating habits. In this episode, I share my own experiences with dieting, including food choices and exercise, while discussing this language difference. Plus, I talk about the importance of consistency—whether you're on a diet or learning Japanese. Let's keep working toward our goals together!Check out our transcripts, video podcasts, and Japanese learning resources at⁠⁠: https://sayurisaying.com/diet-word-meaning-japanese/Your support helps keep this podcast alive and means a lot to me. Thank you for considering!　⁠⁠⁠https://sayurisaying.com/#/portal/support⁠

Harvard Business School, Stanford Business School and INSEAD Business School are all awesome institutions.  My previous employer shelled our serious cash to send me there for Executive education courses.  Classes of one hundred people from all around the world engaging in debate, idea and experience exchange.  One of my Indian classmates even wrote and performed a song at the final team dinner at Stanford, which was amazing and amazingly funny, as it captured many of the experiences of the two weeks we all shared together there.  When you get off the plane and head back to work, you realise that the plane wasn't the only thing flying at 30,000 feet.  The content of the course was just like that.  We were permanently at a very macro level.  The day to day didn't really get covered and the tactical pieces didn't really feature much.  This isn't a criticism because you need that big picture, but the things on your desk waiting for you are a million miles from where you have just been. Fortunately, there are some leadership principles which can cover off the day to day needs.  Principle #22 is “begin with praise and honest appreciation”.  Such an obvious thing, how could this even be mentioned as a principle?  It may be obvious, but are you a master of this principle?  We talk about providing psychological safety for our teams.  Well that is great and just how do you do that, when you have pressure to produce results from above and are feeling the stress of the current business disruption?  It is too easy to begin with an interrogation about the current state of play, the numbers, the revenues, the cash flows. How about if you started every interaction off with finding something real to praise about the team members.  Not fakery but something real, that shows you are paying close attention to what they are doing well. Mistakes happen.  Except in Japan.  In Japan mistakes are not allowed and the penalties to career advancement are large.  “Fail faster” might make you a legend in Silicon Valley but would see you cast out in Japan.  That is why the entire population here are all ninjas at concealing any errors, so that the boss never finds out.  How do we get innovation going if we can't tolerate mistakes?  That is one big reason why there is so little white collar work innovation in Japan.  Principle #23 says “call attention to people's mistakes indirectly”.  Rubbing in it some one's face that they screwed up is a pretty dumb, but universally adopted, idea by bosses. Principle #26, “let the other person save face” isn't an “oriental idea”.  It is a human idea and no one likes losing face in front of others and it doesn't increase people's engagement levels.  In fact, is has them thinking about leaving for greener pastures.  Principle #24 also helps, “talk about your own mistakes before criticising the other person”.  We want our team members to feel empowered to take responsibility, to step up and try stuff.  That is how we create an innovation hub inside the organisation.  If you have a hotbed of ideas from your team and the competition is still canning people who make mistakes, then you will win. Principle #25 is so powerful.  “Ask questions instead of giving direct orders”.  Bosses are staff super-visors, because we have super-vision.  Probably true once upon a time in the olde days, but no longer the case.  Business is too complex today, so we need to grow our people and to be able to rely on their ideas.  If I spend all my time telling you what I think, I haven't learnt anything.  Bosses need to think of questions which will push the team's thinking muscle hard and get people really engaged.  Instead of laying our your thoughts, chapter and verse and falling in love with the sound of your own voice, try asking questions instead. After asking the question, shut up and let your people answer without interruption. It may be killing you, but do it. Being asked for your opinion and ideas is empowering.  Maybe the boss has all the answers, great, but what if the staff have questions the boss hasn't even thought about.  In Japanese business, asking the right question is more valued, that having the right answer. All of these principles have things in common.  They are common sense, but not common practice.  They are super easy to understand, but devilish to execute consistently.  They are game changers in our relationship with our staff.  Having some leadership principles to live by just takes the action of thinking out of the equation.  These become the reflex actions we take because they have become a habit.  These are the types of habits we need to cultivate.        

In Japanese culture, there are many subtle practices that help cultivate humility, kindness, love, and softness, even in the midst of a turbulent world. Japan, having endured natural disasters and war, serves as a living work of art. The philosophy of Kintsugi teaches us that the cracks—whether from atomic bombs, earthquakes, or tsunamis—represent both pain and resilience. The Japanese people embody gaman, the ability to endure and persevere. We learn to rise, rebuild, and heal. In this episode, I'm excited to share insights from my documentary Kintsugi, and some valuable lessons we've learned along the way to help you mend, heal, and restore your own life. Thank you for listening. If you enjoyed this podcast, please consider leaving a five-star review and sharing it with a friend. With love, Candice

みなさんこんにちは、かなこです！今日のシャドーイングは「～というNoun」です。今回のPodcastは、マイケルさんの提供でお送りします。Hi everyone, it's Kanako. Today's shadowing is “～というNoun” It is used to describe the content of the noun. “～という” follows the short form and the Noun can be such as “ニュース・話・ルール”.For instance, if you see the news that the Prime Minister is quitting, you can say…「首相が辞めるというニュースを見ました。」 Before we get started, I want to thank Michael for supporting my show. ありがとうございます! それでは はじめていきましょう！ Let's get started！*****************************************************▼Subscribe to my YouTube channel⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/KANAKOYOUTUBE⁠⁠⁠⁠▼Buy me a coffee ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://bit.ly/KANAKO-Coffee⁠⁠⁠⁠*****************************************************In Japan, there is a culture of eating rice cakes during the New Year. 日本ではお正月にお餅を食べるという文化があります。In Japan, there is a custom to do major cleaning in December. 日本では12月に大掃除をするという習慣があります。I heard that Hokkaido has the best seafood in Japan. 北海道の海鮮は日本一という話を聞きました。Is it true that Professor Yamashita is going to retire? 山下先生が退職するという話は本当ですか。I saw the news that a typhoon will hit Okinawa tomorrow. 明日沖縄に台風がくるというニュースを見ました。I saw on the news that there was a big earthquake in Japan. 日本で大きな地震があったというニュースを見ました。In Japanese language schools, there is a rule that students are not allowed to speak English. 日本語学校では、英語を話してはいけないというルールがあります。My company has a rule that everyone does cleaning in themorning. 私の会社では朝みんなで掃除するというルールがあります。The manager informed me that he'd be late for a meeting. 部長から会議に遅れるという連絡がありました。Getting cold often means that the immune system is weak. よく風邪をひくのは免疫が弱いということです。Quitting a job means losing income. 仕事を辞めるということは、収入がなくなるということです。 *****************************************************では もう 一度、最初から 全部 いってみましょう。Let's try shadowing the whole thing again from the beginning. 

This episode we are taking a trip down the Silk Road--or perhaps even the Spice Road--as we investigate references in this reign to individuals from "Tukara" who seem to have arrived in Yamato and stayed for a while. For photos and more, see our podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-119 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  This is episode 119: The Question of “Tukara”   Traveling upon the ocean was never exactly safe.  Squalls and storms could arise at any time, and there was always a chance that high winds and high waves could capsize a vessel.  Most people who found themselves at the mercy of the ocean could do little but hold on and hope that they could ride out whatever adverse conditions they met with.  Many ships were lost without any explanation or understanding of what happened to them.  They simply left the port and never came back home. And so when the people saw the boat pulling up on the shores of Himuka, on the island of Tsukushi, they no doubt empathized with the voyagers' plight.  The crew looked bedraggled, and their clothing was unfamiliar.  There were both men and women, and this didn't look like your average fishing party.  If anything was clear it was this:  These folk weren't from around here. The locals brought out water and food.  Meanwhile, runners were sent with a message:  foreigners had arrived from a distant place.  They then waited to see what the government was going to do.     We are still in the second reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tenno.  Last episode we talked about the palaces constructed in Asuka, as well as some of the stone works that have been found from the period, and which appear to be referenced in the Nihon Shoki—at least tangentially.   The episodes before that, we looked at the expeditions the court sent to the far north of Honshu and even past Honshu to Hokkaido. This episode we'll again be looking past the main islands of the archipelago to lands beyond.  Specifically, we are going to focus on particularly intriguing references to people from a place called “Tukara”.  We'll talk about some of the ideas about where that might be, even if they're a bit  far-fetched. That's because Tukara touches on the state of the larger world that Yamato was a part of, given its situation on the far eastern edge of what we know today as the Silk Road.  And is this just an excuse for me to take a detour into some of the more interesting things going on outside the archipelago?  No comment. The first mention of a man from Tukara actually comes at the end of the reign of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou.  We are told that in the fourth month of 654 two men and two women of “Tukara” and one woman of “Sha'e” were driven by a storm to Hiuga.  Then, three years later, the story apparently picks up again, though possibly referring to a different group of people.  On the 3rd day of the 7th month of 657, so during the second reign of Takara Hime, we now hear about two men and four women of the Land of Tukara—no mention of Sha'e—who drifted to Tsukushi, aka Kyushu.  The Chronicles mention that these wayfarers first drifted to the island of Amami, and we'll talk about that in a bit, but let's get these puzzle pieces on the table, first.  After those six people show up, the court sent for them by post-horse.  They must have arrived by the 15th of that same month, because we are told that a model of Mt. Sumi was erected and they—the people from Tukara—were entertained, although there is another account that says they were from “Tora”. The next mention is the 10th day of the 3rd month of 659, when a Man of Tukara and his wife, again woman of Sha'e, arrived.  Then, on the 16th day of the 7th month of 660, we are told that the man of Tukara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, desired to return home and asked for an escort.  He planned to pay his respects at the Great Country, i.e. the Tang court, and so he left his wife behind, taking tens of men with him. All of these entries might refer to people regularly reaching Yamato from the south, from a place called “Tukara”.  Alternately, this is a single event whose story has gotten distributed over several years, as we've seen happen before with the Chronicles.  .  One of the oddities of these entries is that the terms used are not consistent.  “Tukara” is spelled at least two different ways, suggesting that it wasn't a common placename like Silla or Baekje, or even the Mishihase.  That does seem to suggest that the Chronicles were phonetically trying to find kanji, or the Sinitic characters, to match with the name they were hearing.   I would also note that “Tukara” is given the status of a “kuni”—a land, country, or state—while “sha'e”, where some of the women are said to come from, is just that, “Sha'e”. As for the name of at least one person from Tokara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, that certainly sounds like someone trying to fit a non-Japanese name into the orthography of the time.  “Tatsuna” seems plausibly Japanese, but “Kenzuhashi” doesn't fit quite as well into the naming structures we've seen to this point. The location of “Tukara” and “Sha'e” are not clear in any way, and as such there has been a lot of speculation about them.  While today there are placenames that fit those characters, whether or not these were the places being referenced at the time is hard to say. I'll actually start with “Sha'e”, which Aston translates as Shravasti, the capital of the ancient Indian kingdom of Kosala, in modern Uttar Pradesh.  It is also where the Buddha, Siddartha Gautama, is said to have lived most of his life after his enlightenment.  In Japanese this is “Sha'e-jou”, and like many Buddhist terms it likely comes through Sanskrit to Middle Chinese to Japanese.  One—or possibly two—women from Shravasti making the journey to Yamato in the company of a man (or men) from Tukara seems quite the feat.  But then, where is “Tukara”? Well, we have at least three possible locations that I've seen bandied about.  I'll address them from the most distant to the closest option.  These three options were Tokharistan, Dvaravati, and the Tokara islands. We'll start with Tokharistan on the far end of the Silk Road.  And to start, let's define what that “Silk Road” means.  We've talked in past episodes about the “Western Regions”, past the Han-controlled territories of the Yellow River.   The ancient Tang capital of Chang'an was built near to the home of the Qin dynasty, and even today you can go and see both the Tang tombs and the tomb of Qin Shihuangdi and his terracotta warriors, all within a short distance of Xi'an, the modern city built on the site of Chang'an.  That city sits on a tributary of the Yellow River, but the main branch turns north around the border of modern Henan and the similarly sounding provinces of Shanxi and Shaanxi.  Following it upstream, the river heads north into modern Mongolia, turns west, and then heads south again, creating what is known as the Ordos loop.  Inside is the Ordos plateau, also known as the Ordos Basin.  Continuing to follow the Yellow river south, on the western edge of the Ordos, you travel through Ningxia and Gansu—home of the Hexi, or Gansu, Corridor.  That route eventually takes to Yumenguan, the Jade Gate, and Dunhuang.  From there roads head north or south along the edge of the Taklamakan desert in the Tarim basin.  The southern route travels along the edge of the Tibetan plateau, while the northern route traversed various oasis cities through Turpan, Kucha, to the city of Kashgar.  Both routes made their way across the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush into South Asia. We've brought up the Tarim Basin and the Silk Road a few times.  This is the path that Buddhism appears to have taken to get to the Yellow River Basin and eventually to the Korean Peninsula and eastward to the Japanese archipelago.  But I want to go a bit more into detail on things here, as there is an interesting side note about “Tukara” that I personally find rather fascinating, and thought this would be a fun time to share. Back in Episode 79 we talked about how the Tarim basin used to be the home to a vast inland sea, which was fed by the meltwater from the Tianshan and Kunlun mountains.  This sea eventually dwindled, though it was still large enough to be known to the Tang as the Puchang Sea.  Today it has largely dried up, and it is mostly just the salt marshes of Lop Nur that remain.  Evidence for this larger sea, however, can be observed in some of the burials found around the Tarim basin.  These burials include the use of boat-shaped structures—a rather curious feature to be found out in the middle of the desert. And it is the desert that was left behind as the waters receded that is key to much of what we know about life in the Tarim basin, as it has proven to be quite excellent at preserving organic material.  This includes bodies, which dried out and naturally turned into mummies, including not only the wool clothing they were wearing, but also features such as hair and even decoration. These “Tarim mummies”, as they have been collectively called, date from as early as 2100 BCE all the way up through the period of time we're currently talking about, and have been found in several desert sites: Xiaohe, the earliest yet discovered; Loulan, near Lop Nur on the east of the Tarim Basin, dating from around 1800 BCE; Cherchen, on the southern edge of the Tarim Basin, dating from roughly 1000 BCE; and too many others to go into in huge detail. The intriguing thing about these burials is that  many of them don't have features typically associated with people of ethnic Han—which is to say traditional Chinese—ancestry, nor do they necessarily have the features associated with the Xiongnu and other steppe nomads.  In addition they have colorful clothing  made from wool and leather, with vivid designs.  Some bodies near Hami, just east of the basin, were reported to have blonde to light brown hair, and their cloth showed radically different patterns from that found at Cherchen and Loulan, with patterns that could reasonably be compared with the plaids now common in places like Scotland and Ireland, and previously found in the Hallstadt salt mine in Central Europe from around 3500 BCE, from which it is thought the Celtic people may have originated. At the same time that people—largely Westerners— were studying these mummies, another discovery in the Tarim basin was also making waves.  This was the discovery of a brand new language.  Actually, it was two languages—or possibly two dialects of a language—in many manuscripts, preserved in Kucha and Turpan.  Once again, the dry desert conditions proved invaluable to maintain these manuscripts, which date from between the late 4th or early 5th century to the 8th century.  They are written with a Brahmic script, similar to that used for Sanskrit, which appears in the Tarim Basin l by about the 2nd century, and we were able to translate them because many of the texts were copies of Buddhist scripture, which greatly helped scholars in deciphering the languages.  These two languages were fascinating because they represented an as-yet undiscovered branch of the Indo-European language family.  Furthermore, when compared to other Indo-European languages, they did not show nearly as much similarity with their neighbors as with languages on the far western end of the Indo-European language family.  That is to say they were thought to be closer to Celtic and Italic languages than something like Indo-Iranian.  And now for a quick diversion within the diversion:  “Centum” and “Satem” are general divisions of the Indo-European language families that was once thought to indicate a geographic divide in the languages.  At its most basic, as Indo-European words changed over time, a labiovelar sound, something like “kw”,  tended to evolve in one of two ways.  In the Celtic and Italic languages, the “kw” went to a hard “k” sound, as represented in the classical pronunciation of the Latin word for 100:  Centum.  That same word, in the Avestan language—of the Indo-Iranian tree—is pronounced as “Satem”, with an “S” sound.  So, you can look at Indo-European languages and divide them generally into “centum” languages, which preserve the hard “k”, or “Satem” languages that preserve the S. With me so far? Getting back to these two newly-found languages in the Tarim Basin, the weird thing is that they were “Centum” languages. Most Centum languages are from pretty far away, though: they are generally found in western Europe or around the Mediterranean, as opposed to the Satem languages, such as Indo-Aryan, Iranian, Armernian, or even Baltic Slavic languages, which are much closer to the Tarim Basin.  So if the theory were true that the “Centum” family of Indo-European languages developed in the West and “Satem” languages developed in the East, then that would seem to indicate that a group of a “Centum” speaking people must have migrated eastward, through the various Satem speaking people, and settled in the Tarim Basin many thousands of years ago. And what evidence do we have of people who look very different from the modern population, living in the Tarim Basin area long before, and wearing clothing similar to what we associated with the progenitors of the Celts?  For many, it seemed to be somewhat obvious, if still incredible, that the speakers of this language were likely the descendants of the mummies who, in the terminology of the time, had been identified as being of Caucasoid ancestry.  A theory developed that these people were an offshoot of a group called the Yamnaya culture, which may have arisen around modern Ukraine as an admixture between the European Hunter Gatherers and the Caucasian Hunter Gatherers, around 3300-2600 BCE.  This was challenged in 2021 when a genetic study was performed on some of the mummies in the Tarim basin, as well as several from the Dzungarian basin, to the northeast.  That study suggested that the people of the Dzungarian basin had genetic ties to the people of the Afanasievo people, from Southern Siberia.  The Afanasievo people are connected to the Yamnayan culture. It should be noted that there has long been a fascination in Western anthropology and related sciences with racial identification—and often not in a healthy way.  As you may recall, the Ainu were identified as “Caucasoid” by some people largely because of things like the men's beards and lighter colored hair, which differ greatly from a large part of the Japanese population.  However, that claim has been repeatedly refuted and debunked. And similarly, the truth is, none of these Tarim mummy burials were in a period of written anything, so we can't conclusively associated them with these fascinating Indo-European languages.  There are thousands of years between the various burials and the manuscripts. These people  left no notes stashed in pockets that give us their life story.   And Language is not Genetics is not Culture.  Any group may adopt a given language for a variety of reasons.  .  Still, given what we know, it is possible that the ancient people of the Tarim basin spoke some form of “Proto-Kuchean”, but it is just as likely that this language was brought in by people from Dzungaria at some point. So why does all this matter to us?  Well, remember how we were talking about someone from Tukara?  The Kuchean language, at least, is referred to in an ancient Turkic source as belonging to “Twgry”, which led several scholars to draw a link between this and the kingdom and people called Tukara and the Tokharoi.  This leads us on another bit of a chase through history. Now if you recall, back in Episode 79, we talked about Zhang Qian.  In 128 BCE, he attempted to cross the Silk Road through the territory of the Xiongnu on a mission for the Han court.  Some fifty years earlier, the Xiongnu had defeated the Yuezhi.  They held territory in the oasis towns along the north of the Taklamakan dessert, from about the Turpan basin west to the Pamirs. The Xiongnu were causing problems for the Han, who thought that if they could contact the remaining Yuezhi they could make common cause with them and harass the Xiongnu from both sides.  Zhang Qian's story is quite remarkable: he started out with an escort of some 99 men and a translator.  Unfortunately, he was captured and enslaved by the Xiongnu during his journey, and he is even said to have had a wife and fathered a child.  He remained a captive for thirteen years, but nonetheless, he was able to escape with his family and he made it to the Great Yuezhi on the far side of the Pamirs, but apparently the Yuezhi weren't interested in a treaty against the Xiongnu.  The Pamirs were apparently enough of a barrier and they were thriving in their new land.  And so Zhang Qian crossed back again through Xiongnu territory, this time taking the southern route around the Tarim basin.  He was still captured by the Xiongnu, who spared his life.  He escaped, again, two years later, returning to the Han court.  Of the original 100 explorers, only two returned: Zhang Qian and his translator.  While he hadn't obtained an alliance, he was able to detail the cultures of the area of the Yuezhi. Many feel that the Kushan Empire, which is generally said to have existed from about 30 to 375 CE,was formed from the Kushana people who were part of the Yuezhi who fled the Xiongnu. In other words, they were originally from further north, around the Tarim Basin, and had been chased out and settled down in regions that included Bactria (as in the Bactrian camel).  Zhang Qian describes reaching the Dayuan Kingdom in the Ferghana valley, then traveling south to an area that was the home of the Great Yuezhi or Da Yuezhi.  And after the Kushan empire fell, we know there was a state in the upper regions of the Oxus river, centered on the city of Balkh, in the former territory of the Kushan empire. known as “Tokara”.  Geographically, this matches up how Zhang Qian described the home of the Da Yuezhi.  Furthermore, some scholars reconstruct the reading of the Sinic characters used for “Yuezhi” as originally having an optional reading of something like “Togwar”, but that is certainly not the most common reconstructed reading of those characters.  Greek sources describe this area as the home of the Tokharoi, or the Tokaran People.  The term “Tukhara” is also found in Sanskrit, and this kingdom  was also said to have sent ambassadors to the Southern Liang and Tang dynasties. We aren't exactly certain of where these Tokharan people came from, but as we've just described, there's a prevailing theory that they were the remnants of the Yuezhi and Kushana people originally from the Tarim Basin.  We know that in the 6th century they came under the rule of the Gokturk Khaganate, which once spanned from the Liao river basin to the Black Sea.  In the 7th and 8th centuries they came under the rule of the Tang Empire, where they were known by very similar characters as those used to write “Tukara” in the Nihon Shoki.  On top of this, we see Tokharans traveling the Silk Road, all the way to the Tang court.  Furthermore, Tokharans that settled in Chang'an took the surname “Zhi” from the ethnonym “Yuezhi”, seemingly laying claim to and giving validation to the identity used back in the Han dynasty.   So, we have a Turkic record describing the Kuchean people (as in, from Kucha in the Tarim Basin) as “Twgry”, and we have a kingdom in Bactria called Tokara and populated (according to the Greeks) by people called Tokharoi.  You can see how this one term has been a fascinating rabbit hole in the study of the Silk Roads and their history.  And some scholars understandably suggested that perhaps the Indo-European languags found in Kucha and Turpan  were actually related to this “Tokhara” – and therefore  should be called “Tocharian”, specifically Tocharian A (Kuchean) or Tocharian B (Turfanian). The problem is that if the Tokharans were speaking “Tocharian” then you wouldn't expect to just see it at Kucha and Turpan, which are about the middle of the road between Tokhara and the Tang dynasty, and which had long been under Gokturk rule.  You would also expect to see it in the areas of Bactria associated with Tokhara.  However, that isn't what we see.  Instead, we see that Bactria was the home of local Bactrian language—an Eastern Iranian language, which, though it is part of the Indo European language family, it is not closely related to Tocharian as far as we can tell. It is possible that the people of Kucha referred to themselves as something similar to “Twgry”, or “Tochari”, but we should also remember that comes from a Turkic source, and it could have been an exonym not related to what they called themselves.  I should also note that language is not people.  It is also possible that a particular ethnonym was maintained separately by two groups that may have been connected politically but which came to speak different languages for whatever reason.   There could be a connection between the names, or it could even be that the same or similar exonym was used for different groups. So, that was a lot and a bit of a ramble, but a lot of things that I find interesting—even if they aren't as connected as they may appear.  We have the Tarim mummies, which are, today, held at a museum in modern Urumqi.  Whether they had any connection with Europe or not, they remain a fascinating study for the wealth of material items found in and around the Tarim basin and similar locations.  And then there is the saga of the Tocharian languages—or perhaps more appropriately the Kuchean-Turfanian languages: Indo-European languages that seem to be well outside of where we would expect to find them. Finally, just past the Pamirs, we get to the land of Tokhara or Tokharistan.  Even without anything else, we know that they had contact with the court.  Perhaps our castaways were from this land?  The name is certainly similar to what we see in the Nihon Shoki, using some of the same characters. All in all, art and other information suggest that the area of the Tarim basin and the Silk Road in general were quite cosmopolitan, with many different people from different regions of the world.  Bactria retained Hellenic influences ever since the conquests of Alexander of Macedonia, aka Alexander the Great, and Sogdian and Persian traders regularly brought their caravans through the region to trade.  And once the Tang dynasty controlled all of the routes, that just made travel that much easier, and many people traveled back and forth. So from that perspective, it is possible that one or more people from Tukhara may have made the crossing from their home all the way to the Tang court, but if they did so, the question still remains: why would they be in a boat? Utilizing overland routes, they would have hit Chang'an or Louyang, the dual capitals of the Tang empire, well before they hit the ocean.  However, the Nihon Shoki says that these voyagers first came ashore at Amami and then later says that they were trying to get to the Tang court. Now there was another “Silk Road” that isn't as often mentioned: the sea route, following the coast of south Asia, around through the Malacca strait and north along the Asian coast.  This route is sometimes viewed more in terms of the “spice” road If these voyagers set out to get to the Tang court by boat, they would have to have traveled south to the Indian Ocean—possibly traveling through Shravasti or Sha'e, depending on the route they chose to take—and then around the Malacca strait—unless they made it on foot all the way to Southeast Asia.  And then they would have taken a boat up the coast. Why do that instead of taking the overland route?  They could likely have traveled directly to the Tang court over the overland silk road.  Even the from Southeast Asia could have traveled up through Yunnan and made their way to the Tang court that way.  In fact, Zhang Qian had wondered something similar when he made it to the site of the new home of the Yuezhi, in Bactria.  Even then, in the 2nd century, he saw products in the marketplace that he identified as coming from around Szechuan.  That would mean south of the Han dynasty, and he couldn't figure out how those trade routes might exist and they weren't already known to the court.  Merchants would have had to traverse the dangerous mountains if they wanted to avoid being caught by the Xiongnu, who controlled the entire region. After returning to the Han court, Zhang Qian actually went out on another expedition to the south, trying to find the southern trade routes, but apparently was not able to do so.  That said, we do see, in later centuries, the trade routes open up between the area of the Sichuan basin and South Asia.  We also see the migrations of people further south, and there may have even been some Roman merchants who traveled up this route to find their way to the Han court, though those accounts are not without their own controversy. In either case, whether by land or sea, these trade routes were not always open.  In some cases, seasonal weather, such as monsoons, might dictate movement back and forth, while political realities were also a factor.  Still, it is worth remembering that even though most people were largely concerned with affairs in their own backyard, the world was still more connected than people give it credit for.  Tang dynasty pottery made its way to the east coast of Africa, and ostriches were brought all the way to Chang'an. As for the travelers from Tukhara and why they would take this long and very round-about method of travel, it is possible that they were just explorers, seeking new routes, or even on some kind of pilgrimage.  Either way, they would have been way off course. But if they did pass through Southeast Asia, that would match up with another theory about what “Tukara” meant: that it actually refers to the Dvaravati kingdom in what is now modern Thailand.  The Dvaravati Kingdom was a Mon political entity that rose up around the 6th century.  It even sent embassies to the Sui and Tang courts.  This is even before the temple complexes in Siem Reap, such as Preah Ko and the more famous Angkor Wat.  And it was during this time that the ethnic Tai people are thought to have started migrating south from Yunnan, possibly due to pressures from the expanding Sui and Tang empires.  Today, most of what remains of the Dvaravati kingdom are the ruins of ancient stone temples, showing a heavy Indic influence, and even early Buddhist practices as well.  “Dvaravati” may not actually be the name of the kingdom but it comes from an inscription on a coin found from about that time.  The Chinese refer to it as  “To-lo-po-ti” in contemporary records.  It may not even have been a kingdom, but  more of a confederation of city-states—it is hard to piece everything together.  That it was well connected, though, is clear from the archaeological record.  In Dvaravati sites, we see coins from as far as Rome, and we even have a lamp found in modern Pong Tuk that appears to match similar examples from the Byzantine Empire in the 6th century.  Note that this doesn't mean it arrived in the 6th century—similarly with the coins—but the Dvaravati state lasted until the 12th century. If that was the case, perhaps there were some women from a place called “Shravasti” or similar, especially given the Indic influence in the region. Now, given the location of the Dvaravati, it wouldn't be so farfetched to think that someone might sail up from the Gulf of Thailand and end up off-course, though it does mean sailing up the entire Ryukyuan chain or really running off course and finding yourself adrift on the East China sea.  And if they were headed to the Tang court, perhaps they did have translators or knew Chinese, since Yamato was unlikely to know the Mon language of Dvaravati and people from Dvaravati probably wouldn't know the Japonic language.  Unless, perhaps, they were communicating through Buddhist priests via Sanskrit. We've now heard two possibilities for Tukara, both pretty far afield: the region of Tokara in Bactria, and the Dvaravati kingdom in Southeast Asia.  That said, the third and simplest explanation—and the one favored by Aston in his translation of the Nihon Shoki—is that Tukara is actually referring to a place in the Ryukyu island chain.  Specifically, there is a “Tokara” archipelago, which spans between Yakushima and Amami-Oshima.  This is part of the Nansei islands, and the closest part of the Ryukyuan island chain to the main Japanese archipelago.  This is the most likely theory, and could account for the entry talking about Amami.  It is easy to see how sailors could end up adrift, too far north, and come to shore in Hyuga, aka Himuka, on the east side of Kyushu.  It certainly would make more sense for them to be from this area of the Ryukyuan archipelago than from anywhere else.  From Yakushima to Amami-Oshima is the closest part of the island chain to Kyushu, and as we see in the entry from the Shoku Nihongi, those three places seem to have been connected as being near to Japan.  So what was going on down there, anyway? Well, first off, let's remember that the Ryukyuan archipelago is not just the island of Okinawa, but a series of islands that go from Kyushu all the way to the island of Taiwan.  Geographically speaking, they are all part of the same volcanic ridge extending southward.  The size of the islands and their distance from each other does vary, however, creating some natural barriers in the form of large stretches of open water, which have shaped how various groups developed on the islands. Humans came to the islands around the same time they were reaching the Japanese mainland.  In fact, some of our only early skeletal remains for early humans in Japan actually come from either the Ryukyuan peninsula in the south or around Hokkaido to the north, and that has to do with the acidity of the soil in much of mainland Japan. Based on genetic studies, we know that at least two groups appear to have inhabited the islands from early times.  One group appears to be related to the Jomon people of Japan, while the other appears to be more related to the indigenous people of Taiwan, who, themselves, appear to have been the ancestors of many Austronesian people.  Just as some groups followed islands to the south of Taiwan, some appear to have headed north.  However, they only made it so far.  As far as I know there is no evidence they made it past Miyakoshima, the northernmost island in the Sakishima islands.  Miyako island is separated from the next large island, Okinawa, by a large strait, known as the Miyako Strait, though sometimes called the Kerama gap in English.  It is a 250km wide stretch of open ocean, which is quite the distance for anyone to travel, even for Austronesian people of Taiwan, who had likely not developed the extraordinary navigational technologies that the people who would become the Pacific Islanders would discover. People on the Ryukyu island chain appear to have been in contact with the people of the Japanese archipelago since at least the Jomon period, and some of the material artifacts demonstrate a cultural connection.  That was likely impacted by the Akahoya eruption, about 3500 years ago, and then re-established at a later date.  We certainly see sea shells and corals trade to the people of the Japanese islands from fairly early on. Unlike the people on the Japanese archipelago, the people of the Ryukyuan archipelago did not really adopt the Yayoi and later Kofun culture.  They weren't building large, mounded tombs, and they retained the character of a hunter-gatherer society, rather than transitioning to a largely agricultural way of life.  The pottery does change in parts of Okinawa, which makes sense given the connections between the regions.  Unfortunately, there is a lot we don't know about life in the islands around this time.  We don't exactly have written records, other than things like the entries in the Nihon Shoki, and those are hardly the most detailed of accounts.  In the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, we see people from Yakushima, which is, along with Tanegashima, one of the largest islands at the northern end of the Ryukyu chain, just before you hit Kagoshima and the Osumi peninsula on the southern tip of Kyushu.  The islands past that would be the Tokara islands, until you hit the large island of Amami. So you can see how it would make sense that the people from “Tokara” would make sense to be from the area between Yakushima and Amami, and in many ways this explanation seems too good to be true.  There are a only a few things that make this a bit peculiar. First, this doesn't really explain the woman from “Sha'e” in any compelling way that I can see.  Second, the name, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna doesn't seem to fit with what we generally know about early Japonic names, and the modern Ryukyuan language certainly is a Japonic language, but there are still plenty of possible explanations.  There is also the connection of Tokara with “Tokan”, which is mentioned in an entry in 699 in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicle that follows on, quite literally to the Nihon Shoki.  Why would they call it “Tokan” instead of “Tokara” so soon after?  Also, why would these voyagers go back to their country by way of the Tang court?  Unless, of course, that is where they were headed in the first place.  In which case, did the Man from Tukara intentionally leave his wife in Yamato, or was she something of a hostage while they continued on their mission?   And so those are the theories.  The man from “Tukara” could be from Tokhara, or Tokharistan, at the far end of the Silk Road.  Or it could have been referring to the Dvaravati Kingdom, in modern Thailand.  Still, in the end, Occam's razor suggests that the simplest answer is that these were actually individuals from the Tokara islands in the Ryukyuan archipelago.  It is possible that they were from Amami, not that they drifted there.  More likely, a group from Amami drifted ashore in Kyushu as they were trying to find a route to the Tang court, as they claimed.  Instead they found themselves taking a detour to the court of Yamato, instead. And we could have stuck with that story, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, this would be a good time to reflect once again on how connected everything was.  Because even if they weren't from Dvaravati, that Kingdom was still trading with Rome and with the Tang.  And the Tang controlled the majority of the overland silk road through the Tarim basin.  We even know that someone from Tukhara made it to Chang'an, because they were mentioned on a stele that talked about an Asian sect of Christianity, the “Shining Religion”, that was praised and allowed to set up shop in the Tang capital, along with Persian Manicheans and Zoroastrians.  Regardless of where these specific people may have been from, the world was clearly growing only more connected, and prospering, as well. Next episode we'll continue to look at how things were faring between the archipelago and the continent. Until then thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Kokorogamae is one of those Japanese concepts which are a bit tricky to translate.  Kokoro by itself as a word has a wide variety of meanings – mind, spirit, mentality, idea, thought, heart, feeling, sincerity, intention, will, true meaning, etc.  It is a radical in the Japanese kanji ideographic script and so appears in a large number of compound words.  Kamae comes from the verb kamaeru meaning take a posture, assume an attitude, be ready for, etc.  In Japanese, when the two words are combined, there is a phonetic shift of the “k” in kamae to a “g” sound. I first heard these two Japanese words in my karate dojo back in 1971, but never as a compound word.  Every class we were given the command “kamae”, meaning to take our fighting stance. For anyone doing Japanese martial arts, this is a very familiar word. The Kokorogamae concept is closely linked to Japanese ideas around perfectionism and mindset.  You cannot produce a perfect output, if your mind is not properly aligned with the action.  A great calligraphy master will establish their Kokorogame before they wield the brush, the ikebana master will do the same before they place the flowers, as will the master of tea ceremony before they begin to whisk the tea.  They perfect their mindset, to produce the perfect output. In my first book Japan Sales Mastery, I wrote about Kokorogamae in the context of sales.  What was your true intention as a salesperson.  Was it to secure a big commission, bonus or promotion for yourself or was it to help the client to succeed in their business?  The mindset is totally different and the output can be a single sale or a lifetime partnership with the client.  If you are a salesperson, which is your intention? Leaders also have their Kokorogame.  Hanging on many walls, protected behind glass, tastefully framed, clearly written is the Kokorogame of the organisation.  In English, we call it the Vision, Mission, Values of the firm.  Someone or a group of people, thought about where do we want to take the organisation in a perfect world, in other words what is the Vision going forward?  What we do that is the Mission?  Why we do that are the Values.  This is the Kokorogamae at the macro level. The culture of the organisation is there to police the individual adherence to the corporate Kokorogamae.  The leader's key role is to bring clarity to the Why of what we are all doing.  But where does that concept of the Why spring from?  Simon Sinik has more or less, become the owner of the Why since his YouTube video went viral.  The Kokorogamae concept starts up one step before what Simon is talking about.  He concentrates on concentrating on the importance of establishing the Why, but how do you determine the Why of the Why? Where does that come from? This is where Kokorogamae is useful.  It makes us reflect on what we believe and why we believe it.  As the leader, is my true intention to build up the people in my team and help them become the absolute best that they can be?  Or, are they there to serve me, to propel my rise through the corporate ranks, with them arrayed like worker bee slaves to me, the Queen bee.  Just as in sales, these goals are not mutually exclusive.  A famous sales trainer Zig Ziglar said, “you can have everything you want, if you just help other people get what they want”.  Your Kokorogamae can create your own success wrapped up inside the success of your client.  As a leader, you can rise through the ranks on the back of the results created by a highly engaged team, who feel you have their back and are focused on their success. The key point is where is the focus of your thoughts about the people in the business?  How do you really see them, when we strip away all the psychobabble?  To get better clarity on that, we can use the handy Japanese concept of tatemae and honne, meaning the superficial reality and the actual reality.  Are you leading based on a tatemae version of what you are supposed to say and do or is the real you, the honne, the one your people see everyday?  What is your true intention?  What is your Kokorogamae as a leader regarding your team members and the organisation?   

Japan has a culture that's always fascinated the rest of the world. We've all heard about this country's unique mix of tradition and futurism. But you'll be surprised to find out that sumo is NOT the most popular sport there, and it takes mad skill to prepare a “river pig”. Oh yeah, and bathing is done a little differently than you might be used to. In Japanese culture, the main cleaning routine is done at night, in several steps. Follow closely please to learn everything about this evening ritual and some other traditions and just curious facts about the Land of the Rising Sun. Other videos you might like: What If You Stopped Showering for a Year? • What If You Stopped Showering for a Y... 10 Morning Habits That Can Ruin Your Day • 10 Morning Habits That Can Ruin Your Day 29 Things That Exist Only in Japan • 29 Things That Exist Only in Japan TIMESTAMPS: The evening cleaning routine takes several steps 0:27 Public bathing tradition 2:04 Private bathrooms 2:45 Traditions and facts about Japan: Traditional dinner in Japan 3:33 Chopsticks rules 3:52 Slurping 4:04 Gardens “on a cat's forehead.” 4:16 Driving age 4:28 Coffee fans 4:51 The most popular sports 5:20 Pikachu on a plane 5:47 Karaoke 6:02 Fugu fish 6:25 Always wear an umbrella 6:54 The golden age 7:13 16 national holidays 7:31 School is super important 7:55 #japanfacts #eveningbath #brightside Music by Epidemic Sound https://www.epidemicsound.com/ Subscribe to Bright Side : https://goo.gl/rQTJZz ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Our Social Media: Facebook: / brightside Instagram: / brightgram 5-Minute Crafts Youtube: https://www.goo.gl/8JVmuC Stock materials (photos, footages and other): https://www.depositphotos.com https://www.shutterstock.com https://www.eastnews.ru ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For more videos and articles visit: http://www.brightside.me/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In some cultures, being well at home is all about making sure that others feel well when visiting, by welcoming them in the right way. In Japan, for example, hospitality is like an art form, and even has a name: omotenashi. You can't really translate the concept into English; the meaning of the term goes a lot deeper than “hospitality”. It also has connotations of mindfulness. In Japanese culture, knowing how to welcome others and being totally focused on your guest go hand in hand. So you could say omotenashi is the ability to anticipate a guest's needs before they can even think of them themselves. Hence the idea of being fully available for your guest, right from the moment they arrive. The most obvious example in Japanese culture is serving tea. Where does omotenashi come from? So you're saying it's not limited to the home environment, are you? In under 3 minutes, we answer your questions! To listen to the last episodes, you can click here: How can I beat my smartphone addiction? How much money makes you happy? Are we heading for another stock market crash? A Bababam Originals podcast, written and produced by Joseph Chance. First Broadcast : 25/03/2023 In partnership with upday UK. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Do mermaids really exist? How do these half-human half-fish mythical sea creatures look? Does Aquaman live among mermaids? Anyway, one of the interesting things about legends is that entirely different parts of the world describe seeing the exact same thing for centuries! Believe it or not, scientists and historians have been interested in the mermaid's existence for years. TIMESTAMPS: The first mermaid 2:14 Mermaids in Japanese folklore 3:28 Mermaids in African folklore 3:46 Mermaids in Russian folklore 4:15 Unconfirmed sightings in the past years 5:30 Christopher Columbus's mermaid sighting 6:32 Why manatees could be mistaken for mermaids 6:55 Could mermaid body function? 8:31 Music: https://www.youtube.com/audiolibrary/... SUMMARY: - The first mermaid, according to legends, is Atargatis, the ancient Syrian goddess of the sea. She didn't start out as a mermaid, though. - Like most legends, that of the mermaid spans across cultures. In Japanese folklore, there's the Ningyo, which is a giant fish with a human face and a monkey's mouth. - In Russia, they have the Rusalka, a water nymph in Slavic mythology that's been portrayed as both good and evil. - In Norway and parts of Scotland, they have the Finfolk, who were shape-shifters of the sea. They have an affinity for silver and tend to make humans their slaves. - The hype continues even today. Unconfirmed (and probably false) sightings have been reported all over the world in the past years. - One thing's for sure, no one has actually seen, met, or caught a real mermaid, alive or not. Even Christopher Columbus's mermaid sighting in 1493 was debunked by experts. - From afar, manatees are about the size of a human, their front flippers could resemble an arm from a distance, and their neck vertebrae allow them to turn their heads around like we do. - The human part of the mermaid wouldn't be able to withstand a life in cold oceanic waters. That is, not unless mermaids have a thick layer of hair like sea otters or blubber like other marine mammals. #mermaids #marinemammals #syrian Subscribe to Bright Side : https://goo.gl/rQTJZz ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Our Social Media: Facebook:   / brightside   Instagram:   / brightgram   5-Minute Crafts Youtube: https://www.goo.gl/8JVmuC ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For more videos and articles visit: http://www.brightside.me/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In 2009 - two years after her diagnosis - Tami started working with a coach and making positive changes in her life. At the same time that she saw her fibromyalgia begin to improve, she started noticing beautiful cherry blossom trees everywhere. They weren't new, but her awareness of them was. Knowing that they frequently appear in Japanese and Chinese art, she looked up their symbolism, and what she found resonated deeply with her and her fibromyalgia experience. In Japanese and Chinese art, cherry blossoms symbolize feminine beauty. They represent delicateness, strength, and power. With their fleeting beauty, cherry blossoms highlight the transience of life and the fact that no matter where you are and what you're going through, this too shall pass. In today's episode, Tami shares why she chose cherry blossoms in her logo, book covers, and more and uses them to represent the journey with fibromyalgia. She discusses how working with a health coach helped her fibromyalgia to start to improve, the moment cherry blossoms began to enter Tami's awareness, the meaning and significance of cherry blossoms in different cultures, her decision to embrace their symbolism, why Tami believes cherry blossoms make such a great symbol of our experiences within the fibro community, embracing the transience of life, learning to find the beauty and strength in disability, thinking of your body as a being who is on your side, believing in the incredible beauty of your body, connecting with the promise of hope, creating realistic goals and continuously improving, the feminine strength symbolized by the cherry blossoms, making empowered choices for your wellbeing, the power of hope, and more.       Note: This episode is not meant to be medical advice. Every person and every situation is unique. The information you learn in this episode should be shared and discussed with your own healthcare providers. To learn more about the resources mentioned in this episode, visit the show notes. For daily doses of hope, inspiration, and practical advice, join Tami on Facebook or Instagram. Need a good book to read? Download Tami's books for free. Ready to take back control of your life and health? Schedule a complimentary consultation with a Certified Fibromyalgia Coach®.

Hey there,   I have a vulnerable share. I've struggled with perfectionism these past few years, and it's been so paralyzing that it's silenced my voice and my gifts as a teacher and coach.   In the online coaching world, the pressure to be flawless, to have all the answers and to be the expert has been overwhelming. Perfectionism has caused to show up inauthentically (hello imposter syndrome!) …or show up as a flat version of my personality… or worse - not show up at all!... only to be met with shame for not doing and being more.   Perfectionism is like a sneaky thief, robbing us of our joy and confidence.   But over these years of doing the self-love work on myself, I can tell you this: imperfection is where the magic happens. It's the portal to our True Self.   In Japanese culture, there's a concept called "wabi-sabi" – it's all about embracing imperfection as the essence of beauty in life. Think of it like the cracks in a piece of pottery making it even more beautiful and unique.   For me, my sensitivity has always been a flaw and weakness, but not I can see that my sensitivity IS my gift – it's literally how I connect with my community and how I heal others.   So when that Itty-Bitty-Shitty-Committee starts to rear its head, remember this: Notice, Pause, Choose: Notice: Recognize that criticizing voice. Pause: Take a deep breath and come back to the present moment. Choose: opt for a thought that lifts you up and reminds you of your worth.   And remember, your imperfections are your superpowers. Also, I've been using this mantra for myself and I've felt it's power. I hope it helps you return to yours too!    "I embrace all of me and I am needed in this world."   I hope today's soul note helps you break free from trying to please others or feel like an imposter and remember your gifts that only you have and gives you the courage to step into them and share them with the world!   Much love, Audrey   p.s. if you need personalize coaching, I'm here to help you deepen your self-love and connect to your intuition to create the life you love.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for January 14, 2024 is: cosplay • KAHZ-play • verb To cosplay is to engage in the activity or practice of dressing up as a character from a work of fiction (such as a comic book, video game, or television show). // Liz's favorite part of attending Comic-Con is choosing a character to cosplay that few others will think of, then recreating their look as accurately as possible. See the entry > Examples: “An educator for more than 20 years, [Heather] Trupia brought her love for the Star Wars franchise to the Hays CISD school in Niederwald, Texas, about 25 miles south of Austin. She wanted to excite kids about taking the state's standardized STAAR test. This included cosplaying as Star Wars characters and performing shows for students.” — Kiko Martinez, MySanAntonio.com, 9 Nov. 2023 Did you know? If you enjoy cosplaying as your favorite anime character (say, Nezuko Kamada from Demon Slayer or Luffy from One Piece), you've got yourself a special, lexicographical twofer of words that were borrowed from English into Japanese and then back into English. In Japanese, anime is short for animēshiyon, which comes from the English word animation, referring to an animated cartoon. Japanese users similarly took the English words costume and play (as in role-play) and combined them into the word kosuchūmupurē, or kosupure for short, which was reborrowed into English as cosplay, first as a noun, and later as a verb. It's not required that one choose an anime character to cosplay, however—any fictional character will do, and probably has done! People are even starting to use cosplay figuratively to mean “to pretend to be,” as in “her chiweenie likes to cosplay as a much bigger dog whenever they visit the dog park.”

Kinbank is a new database that illustrates the global diversity of family terms. English, for example, specifies sibling relationships with just one of two terms: sister or brother. But most other languages have even more specific terms. In Japanese, for instance, there's a single word for “older brother” and another for “younger sister.” Plus, confused by all the names in Russian novels? Characters often go by more than one name, but there are strategies for keeping them all straight. And: why someone who's pepper-nosed isn't going to welcome that new pickleball court next door. Also, slide out on one's ear, a game about life in alternate universes, Konglish, uce, how one's accent develops, Du gehst mir auf den Keks, why someone who is heavily drugged is said to be snowed, and kangaroo words. Read full show notes, hear hundreds of free episodes, send your thoughts and questions, and learn more on the A Way with Words website: https://waywordradio.org/contact. Be a part of the show: call 1 (877) 929-9673 toll-free in the United States and Canada; worldwide, call or text/SMS +1 (619) 800-4443. Email words@waywordradio.org. Twitter @wayword. Copyright Wayword, Inc., a 501(c)(3) corporation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Back in March, Netflix picked up a long running Japanese TV program based on a children's book from the 1970s. The show is called Old Enough, but the name of the original Japanese program translates to My First Errand. Because in each episode, a child runs an errand for the very first time. Episodes are only 10 to 20 minutes long, but in that short time a toddler treats the audience to a bite-sized hero's journey. My First Errand is a gimmicky show with hokey music and a laugh track, but it's also rooted in a truth about Japanese society: most children are remarkably independent from a very young age -- way more independent than children in the US. In Japanese cities, fifth-graders make 85 percent of their weekday trips without a parent. And this remarkable child mobility is made possible by everything from the neighbors next door to the width of the streets.First Errand