"For the Sake of Society" Isn't Just a Fad! (Part 1)

Susumu Namikawa of Dentsu Business Creation Center and Michihiko Yanai of "Kaze to Rock." Though their approaches differ, both have thrown themselves into recovery support activities since the Great East Japan Earthquake. They gradually came to know each other, collaborating on projects like last year's NHK Kohaku Uta Gassen and this year's Fukushima Prefecture commercial. Recently, opportunities to work together have increased.
More young people want to work in advertising with a perspective of "contributing to society." However, turning that aspiration into a career remains challenging. Against this backdrop, two individuals who do work "for society" discuss their starting points and the relationship between themselves, their work, and society. Here is the first part of their conversation.

 

When did your "social switch" flip?

Namikawa: I first met Mr. Yanai in 2012, and since then we've collaborated on various projects. Today, four years after the earthquake, as the atmosphere in society gradually shifts, I wanted to revisit with Mr. Yanai the idea of making "working for society" our mission.

Yanai: While "social contribution" is now commonly discussed, I personally struggled to make it feel personally relevant. Even when music producer Takeshi Kobayashi was promoting eco-activities through events like "ap bank fes" (started in 2005), I didn't grasp it at all. I kept wondering, "When will the switch for eco-consciousness flip inside me?"

That changed around 2010, I think, when I gave a lecture titled "Atonement and Paying Back Debts." I'd lived only thinking about myself until then, but after turning 40, I started feeling that if I didn't do something useful for others before I died, I'd have regrets. That's the "atonement." Then, the "paying back debts" part is the responsibility to give something back to the people who raised me and to my hometown. That's how I gradually changed.

Namikawa: What did you think when terms like "social good" and "social design" started appearing?

Yanai: Honestly, they didn't really click for me. It felt like just another foreign buzzword invading the ad industry. But when I joined Hakuhodo, I told the executives during my interview that I wanted to "use the power of advertising to make people happy." I think that sentiment was always there within me.
But I gradually became consumed by the desire to "win awards" and "be praised," and the pain of being compared to others made it harder for me to see that original feeling.

Namikawa: Nowadays, not just at Dentsu Inc. but many young people join companies with that kind of feeling. But once they're in, they often don't get the chance, or it's not allowed. I was like that myself. Back when I was a young guy without much work, I'd stay up late writing proposals by myself. One of them was the "Food is Fudo" project, aiming to change the structure of food. This is the proposal from back then. I made it with the belief that advertising going forward should become a banner for changing society's consciousness and structure for the better.

Yanai: The copy isn't great, is it? (laughs). But it has an endearing charm.

Namikawa: (laughs). My seniors ignored this proposal, but Kenji Shiroto alone told me, "You might have been someone used by Dentsu Inc. until now, but from now on, you'll be someone who uses Dentsu Inc." That one line is what kept me going.

Yanai: Words like that leave a lifelong mark. And someone who can say that to their juniors becomes a lifelong mentor. If you stay silent, no one will find you. You have to raise your hand yourself; otherwise, the next door will never open. So, Namikawa, why did you decide to go into "social" work?

Namikawa: Back then, looking around Dentsu Inc., no one was working in the NPO or volunteer sector. I thought, this space is wide open! So I tried various things, like producing a "Volador" project combining the equally untapped areas of "idols" and "volunteering." But for about five years, nothing came of it at all (laughs).

Things finally started taking shape when I began planning projects directly with clients. I think you feel the same way, Yanai-san, right? When we work together, you often say, "Let's stop calling them 'clients'."

Yanai: After going independent and working with all kinds of people, I learned there are different terms like "business partner," "client," or "customer." But they all felt like they created distance from our side. If I were the one being called, I'd hate being called "customer." So when I'm working, I tell people to stop using those terms and just call me by my name.

Namikawa: That's about creating things together with the client, right?

Yanai: Exactly.

 

We create together with both the client and the performers.

Namikawa: When Yanai-san's work first came out, both the Morinaga Hi-Chew series featuring Ayumi Hamasaki and Tower Records' "NO MUSIC, NO LIFE." campaign felt shockingly different—not just in concept, but clearly in how they were made. The artists appearing in Tower Records' ads feel like they're in the media, even though it's advertising.

Yanai: I call it a "playground." It's a place where people come to have fun and then leave.

Namikawa: Did you intend to create that kind of place from the start?

Yanai: Not at all. In the beginning, we often got turned down for casting requests.
But after two or three years, people started saying they wanted to create something more interesting than the last person. A system where it automatically became more interesting developed. What I learned from this work is that when you create a medium, people ask to be featured. I realized how powerful it is to own a medium, and that feeling led me to later host the "Kaze to Rock" radio program.

Namikawa: My relationship with clients changed significantly starting with the 2008 Oji Nepia " nepia Thousand Toilets Project." While having drinks with Oji Nepia's top advertising executive, they said, "There's more we can do for toilet paper companies!" That led us to launch a project supporting toilet construction in East Timor. This project continues to this day. After that, as we started launching various projects with clients, the 2011 earthquake and tsunami struck. I'd also like to hear about your activities at that time. Mr. Yanai, you were already supporting your hometown of Fukushima before the disaster, weren't you?

 

Creative work that abandons the desire for recognition is incredibly difficult

Yanai: To be honest, I used to dislike Fukushima. I even sang "I won't return to Fukushima" at live shows. But then that performance aired on TV, and someone from the Fukushima Minpo, a local newspaper, contacted me. They said, "We want the very person who said they dislike Fukushima to help revitalize it now," and asked me to create a special commemorative ad for their 115th anniversary.
That's when I wrote the copy, "2.07 Million Geniuses." The 2.07 million refers to Fukushima Prefecture's population at the time. My message, conveyed through the newspaper pages and live events in Fukushima, was: Don't all the people of Fukushima possess some kind of talent? Yet they hide it or hold back, refusing to show it.

So when the disaster struck, my first thought wasn't just that something terrible had happened in the town where my family and friends lived. I thought about the thousands of people who had come to our events – they must be suffering too. Once I thought that, I couldn't just stand by, could I? Inawashirokozu's "I love you & I need you Fukushima" was born from the urgent need to raise funds. We started recording it on March 17th, right after the disaster, and released it on March 20th.

Namikawa: Back then, everyone was desperately searching for something they could do, right?

Yanai: I call that a form of "disaster" too. I think people all over Japan were overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness and suffering.

Namikawa: On that day, I learned that children were being born in the disaster zone. That’s when I started the " Happy Birthday 3.11 " project, photographing those children and turning their images into video.

Yanai: You can't shoot this kind of footage without selflessness. If you have desires like "Look what amazing thing I made" or "I want to win an award with this," this kind of footage quickly becomes distasteful. However, I think this footage is overflowing with the desire to "wish them were alive" and "want to convey their story." I think creative work that abandons this kind of desire for recognition is incredibly difficult.

 

You can also read the interview here on AdTie!

Planning & Production: Aki Kanahara, Dentsu Inc. Event & Space Design Bureau