ビジネス日本語講座

In this episode, I discuss the limits of sales techniques through the SPIN Selling method I learned in Vietnam. While the logic behind SPIN—situation, problem, implication, and need-payoff—is sound, I question whether such formulas belong in human relationships. When even a father uses SPIN to persuade his son, sincerity is lost. Sales, like parenting, is not about manipulation but trust. True persuasion begins not with technique, but with empathy.

In this episode, I explore why people often feel compelled to pretend to be passionate. From corporate golf culture in Thailand to Japan’s obsession with appearing busy, I question the social performance of enthusiasm. True sincerity, I argue, lies not in acting passionate but in allowing ourselves to rest, to be unproductive, and to live without pretense. Sometimes, doing nothing can be the most honest way of being yourself. “Don’t fake passion—listen to your silence.”

In this episode, I explore how Japan’s traditional career model—lifelong employment within one company—has shifted toward a new era of mobility and continuous learning. Once, loyalty and mastery of a single skill defined success. But today, rapid technological change demands adaptability and the courage to let go of old expertise. Using examples from manufacturing and corporate culture, I reflect on how workers can navigate transitions, overcome “insider–outsider” barriers, and embrace reskilling as a lifelong practice. True growth, I argue, begins when we release past identities and learn to move with time itself.

In this episode, I explore why people fear silence.Moments of quiet often make us anxious, but silence can reveal honesty and trust.In sales, silence is not failure — it’s the moment when the customer is truly thinking.Those who can wait without speaking often win deeper trust.We live in a world obsessed with talking and explaining, yet true communication begins when we can sit quietly together.Learning to accept silence is not weakness; it’s emotional intelligence.Silence, at times, speaks louder than words.

In this episode, I explore the hidden current that connects art and business — human passion, or jōnen. Modern art, I feel, has become too clean, too rational, too afraid to reveal madness or pain. True creation needs obsession and vulnerability. Likewise, business without ambition becomes cold and lifeless. Reason may organize the world, but passion moves it. Artists and entrepreneurs alike must learn not to suppress their jōnen, but to guide and warm it. Art without obsession is a dry rag; enterprise without ambition is cold water. Both require heat, emotion, and the courage to burn honestly.

In this episode, I talk about escaping the modern curse of “give and take.” In today’s world, every act of kindness is measured by return and fairness. But true human warmth begins when we stop calculating. Especially in Japan, where reciprocity defines social order—from gifts to business meals—it takes courage to give without expecting anything back. I believe freedom in relationships comes from sincerity, not exchange. When we act from genuine care rather than obligation, we rediscover peace and dignity. True generosity is not a trade—it’s the quiet strength that keeps humanity alive.

In this episode, I explore the deep connection between reading and physical play. Reading is a mental game—a way to reconstruct another person’s thoughts inside your mind. But life is not only about thinking; we also need to feel the world through our skin, muscles, and breath. From philosophy to travel, from books to movement, I reflect on how balance between intellect and sensation gives life its richness. True wisdom, I believe, is found in the rhythm between understanding the world with the mind and feeling it with the body.

In this episode, I reflect on the raw spirit of Japan’s Showa era — a time when emotion mattered more than logic, and loyalty meant more than efficiency. Remembering the “Truck Guys” and the wild energy of old Japan, I explore what it means to live with passion instead of calculation. Today, I feel that Japan has become too calm, too polished, too afraid to look foolish. To me, true wildness is not chaos but the courage to feel — to cry, to fight, to love, and to fail. I want to awaken that forgotten wild heart within us again.

This episode argues that realistic goals and KPIs drain our humanity. Many professionals win in numbers but lose in life. KPIs were never tools for creativity—they were tools for control. True motivation comes not from metrics but from dreams that make the heart move. When leaders set goals that excite and align with personal happiness, people act naturally, not by management but by inspiration. The message: stop chasing measurable success. Set a goal so bold, it makes you come alive. That is the only KPI worth pursuing.

This episode reflects on how people once spoke seriously about “how to live,” but in today’s Japan, such conversations have faded. Humor and light talk have replaced reflection, and seriousness is seen as awkward. Through this quiet decline of dialogue, society loses the ability to think deeply. The host argues that to speak about life — even when it feels embarrassing — is an act of courage and humanity itself. Without people who dare to talk about meaning, society grows colder. True warmth returns only when we reclaim the words to ask: how shall we live?

This episode explores why modern people cannot truly heal in a sauna. While “getting aligned” has become a ritual of comfort for Japanese workers, it only resets them to continue the same routine. The sauna represents not rebellion but conformity — a safe, rule-bound space where emotion is replaced by sweat. Through this lens, the episode questions how capitalism turns even relaxation into productivity. True healing, the speaker argues, is messy, irrational, and beyond control. Freedom begins not when we “get aligned,” but when we allow ourselves to be disordered — and still choose to live.

In this episode, I reflect on how modern people may be more primitive than so-called primitives. Ancient tribes faced fear, pain, and death directly—they lived with gods and nature. Today, we avoid risk, polish appearances, and worship algorithms instead. Social media has become a new religion: likes are blessings, and followers are salvation. Yet this pursuit of safe happiness leaves us empty, detached from real life. I argue that true richness is not in performing happiness for others, but in quietly nurturing it within ourselves—beyond comparison, beyond the algorithms that define our worth.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I reflect on the meaning of “Kyogyo” — so-called vain or hollow work. In Japan, the word often carries a negative tone, suggesting something useless or unproductive. Yet I argue that Kyogyo gives life its warmth and meaning. Through my experience working for a free paper in Vietnam, I saw how even “impractical” work can create atmosphere, emotion, and human connection. If “real industries” produce forms, then Kyogyo produces meaning. In an age obsessed with efficiency and utility, we need those who cherish the unnecessary, because without such spaces of “waste,” the human spirit cannot breathe.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I explore why people are drawn to unreasonable, stubborn craftsmen in an age ruled by AI’s perfect efficiency. Machines are polite, logical, and tireless—but they lack a soul. We humans sometimes crave friction: to be challenged, even scolded, by someone who truly cares about their craft. Behind every gruff artisan lies lonely pride, fear, and passion—the emotions that make their work human. As AI smooths the world into comfort, these difficult people remind us that to be human is to feel resistance, to encounter imperfection, and to find beauty in the struggle itself.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I explore why Japanese society makes it difficult to feel truly free. From postwar reconstruction to today’s hyper-organized culture, Japan has built a system of invisible control—not through laws, but through “air,” the pressure to conform and avoid standing out. People learn to restrain themselves, trading individuality for harmony, until even thinking too deeply becomes inconvenient. I describe this as a “comfortable prison,” where efficiency replaces reflection. True freedom, I argue, is not acting selfishly but thinking independently. Those who still feel discomfort or unease in such a society are, perhaps, the only truly awake ones.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I reflect on Japan’s love of saunas and the popular phrase “totonou”—to “get aligned” or “feel refreshed.” While harmless and pleasant, I see in this idea a symbol of Japan’s preference for safe, conflict-free topics and emotional neutrality. Talking about saunas, like talking about the weather, never offends anyone—but it also provokes no thought. I explore how this cultural tendency toward comfort and harmony can lead to intellectual stagnation, where thinking itself falls asleep. True growth, I argue, comes not from being perfectly “aligned,” but from sometimes allowing ourselves to feel uneasy, disordered, and human.

In this episode, I discuss why you should never tell your boss or coworkers that you want to quit your job. Many employees, feeling anxious or uncertain, seek advice inside the company—but this is often a trap. Most colleagues and managers speak only from a salaryman’s perspective, and once you reveal your intention to resign, you may be seen as a traitor or lose trust immediately. I explain the psychology behind this, why “I changed my mind” never works in corporate life, and why career decisions should be made privately, with guidance only from family or trusted outsiders.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I explore the “favorite dishes” and “strange delicacies” of Japanese salaryman language. One common favorite is the phrase saiteki-kai (“optimal solution”), used so casually in meetings that it feels like handing out rice balls—filling but uninspiring. Then come the exotic “delicacies”: buzzwords like evidence, synergy, and commit, often overused until they lose real meaning. Drawing on my experience working in Bangkok, I argue that such phrases may satisfy corporate culture in Japan but won’t resonate in global business. What truly matters is not wordplay, but concrete solutions, execution, and the ability to deliver real results.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I ask whether Japan’s stubborn “shokunin” spirit can truly succeed in overseas workplaces. Japan’s manufacturing excellence has long been admired, but when proud, uncompromising engineers are sent abroad, their attitudes sometimes clash with local staff and culture. In Japanese firms, hierarchy and the company brand once protected such behavior, but in local companies without that shield, rigid pride can quickly become a liability. I share my own experiences in Thailand, highlight both negative and positive cases, and explain three keys—language, flexibility, and humility—that can transform a craftsman into a respected global professional.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In this episode, I reflect on a deep issue I have observed in Japanese companies: many executives seem to have lost the ability to truly trust their employees. Drawing on my own background in sales, I share how freedom once allowed workers to grow, while today’s environment of GPS tracking, rigid manuals, and excessive reporting has created a culture of micromanagement. I compare this with the broader tolerance and flexibility of Japan’s Showa era, when trust gave employees room to develop. I argue that without restoring freedom and trust, companies risk losing innovation, growth, and outstanding human potential.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------●ビジネス日本語学習者のための無料メルマガ講座⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://my162p.com/p/r/odSmegng⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠●ビジネス日本語学習者向けブログビジネスのために日本語を学んでいる人のための情報を発信しています⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://businessnihongo555.blogspot.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------