答えが溢れる世界でIn a World Flooded with Answers
We inhabit a world inundated with answers as never before. One need only peer into a screen to fall into the illusion that people across the globe are offering immediate solutions to the myriad things of the universe—politics, economics, health, and even the manner in which an individual should live. People ingest this ravenously, mistaking it for their own opinion, and steadily armor themselves.
However, if answers are truly overflowing, and if we possess so many correct solutions, why is the human heart so notoriously unstable and brittle? Why does the mere sight of a differing opinion from another induce palpitations as if one’s very existence were threatened, driving one to intense rage? Extreme arguments beget greater extremes, intensifying the alienation from the discussion itself. In that space, you do not exist.
Yet, as anyone living in the modern age surely senses, it is far more difficult not to become extreme. I confront this issue daily myself, realizing that if I let my guard down for even a moment, my opinions instantly veer toward the extreme. I feel there may be no era more terrifying than this; honestly, the fact that I can still face my own arguments and opinions through daily internal struggle might be the only saving grace. For across the world, even this internal struggle is already being ignored, and people have lost all methods other than radicalization. To speak plainly, nothing is easier in the modern age than to make one’s opinions and assertions extreme. It can be done at any moment. However, considering that the very concept of neutrality has become a relic of the past, we must place this radicalizing world as a premise of our thinking. And to begin with, this position of neutrality is itself suspect. Ultimately, in the discussions of this realm, any position amounts to the same thing.
This tremor occurs because we have lost our own "roots." If the support of the root is lost, even a giant tree that has withstood wind and snow for ages will collapse overnight. Civilization, humanity, and the individual are all losing this support called the root and are charging toward collapse. Such scenes have become routine, but I view the stage for discussion as already having ended. It is a cruel observation, but debate no longer births anything, advances nothing, and resolves nothing. Debate is merely a struggle for the outdated seats of the intelligentsia and those on their periphery (that is, the maintenance of their livelihood); whether one leans to the extreme left or right, this fact remains unchanged. Now that debate involving the masses has rendered itself meaningless, our priority must be to value knowledge at the individual level and connect it to action—first, to resolve the troubles of others and the community within the scope of what we can do ourselves. Or rather, we have merely temporarily forgotten what was once obvious for human life. To act now to solve even one problem troubling the person most precious to you. I strongly feel that this is the only future left for the world—no, for humanity. If you have time to argue, act.
Fundamentally, the human act of "knowing" is not the mere accumulation of knowledge. Therefore, if knowledge exists only for the sake of knowledge, the world merely deepens its confusion; yet, in the current state, intellectuals have fallen into this trap to a wretched degree. What is common among them is that while they appear to present answers, they are presenting nothing. Those who understand this have already distanced themselves from all debates, secretly groping for the next era so as not to be suspected by anyone. They know. They know that "to know" is not the accumulation of knowledge. They know that "to know" is not for the sake of knowledge.
Let us recall the profound truth: "The myriad things of heaven and earth do not exist apart from me; they are my consciousness, the product of the self." When we do, it becomes palpably clear that the colossal system called the modern world continues to whisper this to us: "The answer lies without."
And the system teaches that because your interior is hollow, incomplete, and unreliable, you must constantly replenish it with new information from the outside, borrow the words of someone in authority, and adorn yourself with the trendy thoughts of the moment. The masses have fallen under this spell, closing the doors to their inner sanctuary, abandoning inquiry, and rushing outward in search of salvation. As a result, they have become unintelligible to themselves. This lies at the root of the phenomenon of the uniform spread of mental maladies, particularly among Gen Z. They are leading a life where "vertigo is the standard." Because they are perpetually dizzy, they know not where they stand, whom they are meeting, or even what they are doing or thinking; everything is ambiguous and indistinct. In short, it is the realization of the first generation that has never truly lived, and will never truly live. This surfaces as a mental crisis.
The one truth I can state with conviction is this single point: "The answer is not outside." Across all ages and cultures, every sage has arrived at this same answer, but because humans do not grow, we repeat the same cycle, merely losing sight of where the answer lies once again. That is precisely why, without looking back at the "mysterious warehouse connecting to the infinite past and leading to the future"—the wisdom inherited from ancestors and the compass possessed by life itself within one's own interior—we are captivated by the "momentary phenomena" that pass before our eyes like clouds and smoke.
This is "heteronomy." Heteronomy is a state in which one surrenders the criteria of one’s value judgment to the "outside"—to others or society. A common feature here is the absence of internal contemplation. That is why, when the outside world shakes, that person shakes as well. When someone else is denied, they feel as though they too have been denied. In truth, nothing is more absurd. Even if the outside shakes, there is absolutely no need for oneself to shake. A human who shakes because the outside shakes is called a "fool." And the crucial point is that the posture of seeking answers externally has inevitably transformed "debate" into "war." The idea that debate realizes "peace" is a complete lie; it is merely one aspect of the narrative arc that debate possesses once it has passed through the point of war.
One need only look at the modern discursive space to understand. What exists there is not a serene dialogue seeking truth together, but only an obsession with "victory and defeat"—brandishing borrowed words to refute and subjugate the opponent. Those who believe "the answer lies without" mutually insist, "The answer I picked up is the correct one." The critical point is that the answer was not derived through their own contemplation, but "picked up" from somewhere. There is no room for introspection to enter. The noble endeavor permitted only to humans—to listen deeply to the words of the other and examine them against the light of one’s inner mirror—is abandoned, and only reflexive repulsion (reaction) is repeated. This is why I constantly repeat that the modern intellectual says nothing.
In that extreme confrontation, it is only natural for a sane person to be exhausted. There is a compulsion that one must always belong to one of the camps, and the silent pressure that remaining silent is evil rises. This tendency strengthens the younger the demographic, through social media. For silence is not seen as an assertion, but falls into the logic of failing to fulfill one's responsibility to the world. Thus, immature people who lack the strength to endure silence deploy the "picked-up answers" presented one after another by algorithms as weapons to join the meaningless debate. Consequently, because they continue to spew words that are not their own, they fall into the sensation that the contours of their true self are melting away, and in that vertigo, they lose track of themselves. This manifests as the phenomenon of identity crisis. Humans have ceased to be themselves and have degraded into mass-produced "reflectors" that merely react to external stimuli.
How, then, can we stop this endless outflow to the exterior and return to our inner sanctuary? Here, the word I wish to present is "Shiri-Metsuretsu" (支離滅裂). This word is used daily in Japan even now, mainly to mean that a story does not add up or that conduct is inconsistent. However, when we gaze into the true meaning of this word, it is something far more terrifying and philosophical. If I were to describe the current world in a single word, it is Shiri-Metsuretsu.
This may be difficult to grasp in English, so let us look at it from the perspective of Kanji characters. First, Shiri (支離) represents "the branch (支) separating (離) from the trunk," or simply put, "departing from the axis." I consider this "axis" to be the state reached through deep introspection by myself and by you, and I believe this state is the true universal because all is rendered into nothingness. Therefore, the Shiri of "departing from the axis" represents the very confusion of ignoring your own voice and seeking answers outside. What is terrifying is that in Japanese, this Shiri is rarely used alone; it is treated as a compound word with the subsequent Metsuretsu.
This Metsuretsu (滅裂) means that which has form tears apart and perishes. In other words, Shiri-Metsuretsu refers to a "critical state of life" where one is severed from one’s own, or humanity’s, "Root," losing the axis, and the mind is dispersed into the rootless branches and leaves. When one falls into this state, the consequence is a future of being "torn asunder and perishing." This is the very mindset of modern man.
Reflecting on the Shiri-Metsuretsu of this era, I am reminded of a certain figure. This figure’s thought gave vitality to humans who secretly attempted to live autonomously, in reaction to the fact that everything had become heteronomous over the 300 years following the Edo period, during which regime reinforcement increased. In fact, it became the driving force producing humans who lived with tenacious vitality. The most typical example is the Meiji Restoration, the revolution that overthrew the Edo Shogunate. The driving force of the Meiji Restoration was inspired by this figure's thought. And indeed, I too deeply revere this figure and continue to study him quietly every day. He is the Confucian scholar who lived in the Ming Dynasty of China, Wang Yangming (1472-1528). In fact, the thought of Wang Yangming has had a tremendous impact on Japan—where only limited, refined concepts entered—even more than in China, the home of Confucianism, where rival warlords and unique thinkers appeared one after another, often burying such ideas.
He may be an unfamiliar figure in the West, but when viewing history from Japan’s Edo period (1603-1868) to the present, the existence of Wang Yangming becomes a key to deciphering it. And even now, believers of Wang Yangming are secretly making preparations for the coming time in this Japan, which has become a suffocating, excessively totalitarian state. So that no one finds them.
The era in which Wang Yangming lived was a time of fierce controversy between the followers of the school of Zhu Xi (1130-1200), a figure of the Southern Song who marked a major turning point in Confucianism (Zhu Xi Scholasticism), and the followers of Lu Xiangshan (1139-1192). Confucian history may not be familiar, so I will keep it concise, but the point lies in how to perceive the words of Confucius, the founder of Confucianism. Zhu Xi thought that since Confucius and the Confucian predecessors were people of the past, a modern interpretation was appropriate for the present day, and he proceeded to modernize their teachings. Lu Xiangshan, however, denied that attitude and maintained a stance of thoroughly investigating the teachings of Confucius and the predecessors.
To put it more simply, Zhu Xi preached that "one can reach the truth by accumulating learning," while Lu Xiangshan preached that "one should revere the inner truth." It suffices for now to understand Zhu Xi as seeking answers externally—"knowledge for the sake of knowledge"—and Lu Xiangshan as seeking answers internally—"knowledge to reach the truth." However, the important thing is that the internal and external are not separated; the exploration of the outside becomes the exploration of the inside, and the exploration of the inside becomes the exploration of the outside. These two continued to have a major influence on subsequent eras, but the problem is that their successors deviated from the perspective of the two founders—who were not separated—and began a debate over which was correct. In fact, Zhu Xi and Lu Xiangshan lived in the same era and had direct interaction, but they did not engage in debates hurling extreme opinions at each other. Yet, their successors refused to yield, insisting that the opinion of the side they believed in was correct, and with the passing of eras, the debate became extreme. That conflict was at its most intense during the era in which Wang Yangming lived.
Two disciples learning from Yangming were influenced by this debate and fell into extreme opposition, finally reaching a stalemate and seeking a solution (answer) from their master, Yangming. However, Wang Yangming, asked for an answer, did not thunder at them but devoted himself to admonishing them quietly. Yangming preached, "Your debate stems from a heart that seeks to win." In short, he quietly conveyed that a debate clashing private desires solves nothing, that there is no answer there, and therefore it is not the truth.
If one tries to win, "Qi" (emotion and ego) moves. If Qi moves, the composure of the heart is lost, and one loses sight of righteousness as a human being. Yangming explained that this is no longer a debate seeking truth, but merely "paranoia." Seeing them pointing out each other’s flaws, Yangming saw through to the fact that they had lost sight of the "Root" and were fighting over the branches and leaves (Shiri). To win the controversy, they clouded their inner intelligence and indulged in wordplay borrowed from the outside (predecessors in history).
But one of the disciples could not endure Yangming’s attitude. He began to criticize his master, claiming that Yangming was avoiding a grave debate with ambiguous words, making neither his attitude nor his position clear. Listening to this story, you will realize it is the very pathology we have fallen into today. What is happening is exactly the same. Driven by the "private desire to win," we have separated from the thick trunk of "reaching the truth"—the original purpose of debate—and splintered into countless branches and leaves. Whatever is said there amounts to nothing. This is the reason why intellectuals, who spend their days in "knowledge for the sake of knowledge" merely to maintain their social status, say nothing no matter what they say.
In a sense, because they have knowledge, they can fabricate answers externally and use them to bludgeon their opponents, soaking in a sense of superiority. At that moment, that person is in the state of Shiri: lost from the axis. The more the opinions and assertions of a person in the state of Shiri ride the algorithms and become famous, the more the people who seek answers externally and get hooked by the algorithms fall into the same state. And since algorithms encourage further agitation, the population count swells instantly. But it is not interesting to increase only one side, so the same people are created on the opposite side. Through this, debates between both sides possessing extreme opinions are established in the blink of an eye, consumed as content, and influence those seeking answers externally. The reality of today is that this is influencing actual national and international politics offline, not just online.
No matter what people without an axis do, they are fanned by the winds of emotion, and eventually, their spirit heads toward Metsuretsu—destruction. Their own personality and existence collapse, and they become beings who merely repeat reactions limited to the moment. Modern man is nothing but an accumulation of this.
"The affairs within the universe are my own affairs; my own affairs are the affairs within the universe," said Lu Xiangshan. And the state of Wang Yangming, who embodied that, is precisely the anchor we should aim for.
Debate is not a lukewarm endeavor. It is not a martial art of words, nor is it a display of knowledge. Only those with the resolve to truly introspect—that is, those who have once descended deep into their own inexhaustible warehouse, conversed there with ancestors and the universe, and confirmed a certain root—can truly converse with others. In the modern age, we do not see such debates through our screens. For even if they existed, they would not be caught by the algorithms. Thus, the degradation of humanity reaches extreme misery at a tremendous speed day by day, and the few people attempting to live decently are beginning to distance themselves from the "world." This is the present.
Debate without introspection is noise; rootless words are but weapons. In the process of living through a time of hardship, Wang Yangming attained the enlightenment of "Liangzhi/到良知“ (Intuitive Knowledge). There is a vast amount I wish to write about Wang Yangming…, but I will stop here for this time.