The Power to Question the Topic

Munching on some homemade pickled baby eggplants I got from an acquaintance in Akita, I finally finished grading the final exams for Meiji Gakuin University's spring semester.

This time, I actually gave students nearly a month between announcing the problem and the exam. They surely spent that time researching, consulting, and agonizing over it. The average class attendance rate after enrollment confirmation was 88.5%. I received 109 answer sheets, densely filled on both sides of A3 paper. I reviewed each one, picturing the student's face as I did.

This year's question was: "Propose a new 'souvenir from Minato Ward'." Honestly, I made it harder than usual. The key point is that while there are Tokyo souvenirs and Tokyo Tower souvenirs, there's no such thing as a "souvenir from Minato Ward." What even is a "souvenir from Minato Ward"? Why is it needed? Who wants it? The structure forces them to wrestle with the fundamental starting point.

Many of the "problems" students actually encounter in the real world are full of such points to question. Yet university exams usually present neatly packaged, pure-cultured problems. So this year, I deliberately asked them to also develop the "ability to question the prompt" itself.

For example, Mr. Yuasa positioned it as "a means for the administration to realize its vision."

Minato Ward has a tourism promotion vision: "A Ward You Want to Visit, A Ward You Aspire To ~ Creating Valuable Urban Tourism That Fosters Exchange Between People, Places, and Cultures ~" (Source: Minato Ward website). Based on this, he proposed creating a system where the many foreign tourists visiting Minato Ward from around the world would bring local specialties from their home countries to exchange with each other.

While most students focused on "things" like sweets or "souvenir stories" from experiential events like bus tours, Mr. Yuasa's idea of a "system" for exchanging souvenirs worldwide stood out. I believe this was possible precisely because he clearly defined the crucial element: "Minato City souvenirs."

Meanwhile, Mimura defined "Minato City" as "a nightlife district." His concept, "Delicious Apologies," involved macarons designed for men who'd overindulged in Roppongi or Akasaka to appease their wives. Each macaron carried a message like "Sorry" or "Let's go out for dinner next time."

"In a typical exam, you'd be happy if your answer matched someone else's, right? But in this lecture, the challenge is how consciously you can shift your perspective and come up with ideas different from others. Try hard not to give the same answers as everyone else," he repeatedly emphasized. But with 109 people, some ideas inevitably overlapped.

For example, as expected (lol), ideas concentrated on "Minato Ward Girls" – meaning women living in Minato Ward who enjoy gourmet meals paid for by wealthy older men or luxury dates, living like celebrities. And most of those ideas tended to settle on relatively safe concepts like "cosmetics designed to create a glamorous image for girls in the provinces who aspire to that lifestyle."

If we could have extended our thinking to the "Minato Ward uncles" (not sure if that's even a term) behind those women, I believe we could have generated ideas with a distinct edge.

I laughed the moment I saw Ishizeki-san's "Sarcastic Vegetables" concept. I instantly imagined what he was aiming for: "Roppongi-raised Chinese cabbage" or "Potatoes that've never ventured beyond the Yamanote Line."

It seems he thought, "Since Minato Ward, right in the heart of the city, has so many flashy things, let's go for something plain instead." That's exactly the kind of (in a good way) "contrarian" thinking we pursued relentlessly for those six months.

I believe "thinking methods to overturn common sense" are essential methodologies not just for ad agencies, but for every industry. Just the other day, I got in touch with a graduate from two years ago and we had dinner together. I'd be happy to meet this year's students somewhere again too.

Please, help yourself!