Why I Feel a Little Uneasy Whenever a Japanese Scientist Wins a Nobel Prize

Japan has produced another Nobel laureate in chemistry.

Of course, this is wonderful news.

Every few years, when a Japanese researcher wins the prize, people start saying that Japan’s scientific and technological prowess is still going strong.

But lately, I have found myself thinking something slightly different.

How many more times will we get to see this?

Given the nature of the Nobel Prize, I find it frightening that we might look only at the fact that Japanese scientists are still winning and take comfort in it.

The Nobel Prize Is a Report Card from the Past

In the sciences, it is not unusual for Nobel Prizes to recognize research conducted decades earlier.

In other words, even if a Japanese scientist wins in the 2020s, the award does not necessarily reflect Japan’s current research environment.

What is being honored is the Japan of the researcher’s youth.

It was a time when funding and academic positions were available, and researchers could pursue long-term subjects more readily than they can today.

“What practical use does this have?”

“Will you have results in three years?”

“What are your KPIs?”

There was room to investigate something simply because it seemed interesting, without having to answer those questions every time.

No one knew whether it would be useful. No one even knew whether it would succeed.

That is precisely what basic research is.

But when a results-driven approach is taken to its logical extreme, research whose outcomes can be explained within a short time frame gains an advantage.

That is rational.

It is also a kind of rationality that is profoundly ill-suited to producing Nobel-caliber research.

If You Stop Planting, the Harvest Will Eventually End

In Japan today, fierce competition for research funding, fixed-term positions, administrative paperwork, and other burdens have combined to make it difficult for young researchers to settle in and concentrate on their work.

And yet, whenever a Japanese scientist wins a Nobel Prize, people breathe a sigh of relief:

“Japanese science really is still strong.”

Put in agricultural terms, this is a strange reaction.

A fruit tree planted 20 years ago produces magnificent fruit.

Everyone celebrates.

But fewer new saplings are being planted than before. There are fewer young farmers. Spending on fertilizer is being cut.

Even so, as long as the old trees keep bearing fruit, people say:

“See? We are still fine.”

A decline in research strength is not visible the moment it begins.

The bill arrives 20 or 30 years later.

China Is Moving in the Opposite Direction

Meanwhile, China is investing enormous sums in research and development, upgrading its research facilities, and bringing researchers back from overseas. It already has a major presence in influential natural-science papers.

If a country expands its pool of researchers, invests money and equipment, and runs a vast number of research projects, the odds of producing world-class results rise as well.

That is why I believe the picture will look very different 30 years from now.

Chinese researchers may win Nobel Prizes almost every year, while Japanese researchers win once every five or ten years.

I would not be surprised if that era arrives.

In science, the consequences of today’s investment gap emerge decades later.

The Day the Meaning of the Toast Changes

So when a Japanese scientist wins a Nobel Prize, we should celebrate wholeheartedly.

But while raising a glass, it may be worth stopping to think at least once.

Are we celebrating the present state of Japanese science?

Or are we celebrating the legacy of Japan’s past that still happened to be sitting in the account?

The frightening moment will come when that balance reaches zero.

By then, it will be too late to start making a fuss about how Japanese scientists no longer seem to win Nobel Prizes.

You cannot ask Amazon to deliver a Nobel Prize tomorrow morning if you forgot to order it 30 years ago.