The work of creating an atmosphere

Alongside our ongoing series "Creativity Can Be a Weapon" (details here ), this new series explores how companies and organizations can approach fostering and discovering new creative potential. We'll be speaking with leaders managing creative workplaces.

"Organization" and "Creativity." We want to pit these seemingly opposing forces head-to-head. Organizations (corporations) that value discipline and profit versus creatives who freely pursue individual identity. The fusion of these two elements surely holds the key to breakthroughs. An organization is the cornerstone of business strategy. How should creativity be integrated into that strategy? We asked Tsuda, MD of Dentsu Inc.'s 3CR Planning Bureau.

Written by: Web Dentsu Inc. News Editorial Department

Daisuke Tsuda: Graduated from Sophia University's Faculty of Law. Joined Dentsu Inc. after graduation, apprenticed under Mitsuhiro Wada and Takehiko Miura. Became a Creative Director in 2011 and assumed the role of Managing Director (MD) of the Creative Planning Division 3 in 2021. Beyond his management responsibilities as bureau head, he serves as Executive Creative Director for clients like Asahi Breweries and contributes to company-wide initiatives such as the Creative Monetization Project and Discover New SmartWork (a one-step action for work-style reform). Known for his diverse interests, including fishing, cooking, cycling, and being a fan of Southern All Stars' Keisuke Kuwata. After completing full marathons (22 completed), he once ate 10 bowls of ramen in a single day during his self-proclaimed "Ramen Marathon."

The ideal organization is like a university "club" or "circle"

As usual, I began the interview with the question, "What exactly is an organization?" Mr. Tsuda's first response was this: "Individual growth is the soil. The collective formed on that soil is what I believe an organization to be. It's not like a sports club where you're bound by strict discipline and subjected to rigorous training. It's more like a hobby club or circle where individuals can grow through what they love and share the same passion."

Tsuda-san's motto is: people with the same "passion" gather, feel the same "vibe," and above all, enjoy themselves. This is the Marathon Circle @ Fukuoka Marathon & Kyoto Marathon (photo taken in 2019).

When you hear the word "organization," terms like "self-sacrifice for the greater good" might come to mind. The image is of abandoning the self (the individual) to work for the organization. But Tsuda argues that this approach cannot foster sustainable growth for the organization either. "Before you know it, maintaining the organization itself becomes the goal. That doesn't happen with hobby groups or clubs. It's simply a matter of people who happen to like the same thing gathering together. I believe value is born from that."

The scale of a business has no inherent meaning. That comes later.

Tsuda points out that if you think of an organization as something like a "hobby group" or "circle," the scale of the business itself holds no meaning. "You don't join because it's a top-tier hobby group or a circle with billions in annual sales, right? People gather because they like it. We planned all sorts of things with the same spirit of 'Let's do something fun together!' We were just doing what we loved, and before we knew it, we'd won a championship. That sort of thing. Scale and performance are ultimately just results. I think they come later."

Seeing individual passions come to life is just fun, isn't it? It sparks motivation for work too. Yes, Tsuda laughs heartily. "We were just having fun together, coming up with enjoyable projects, and putting them into practice. Before we knew it, scale had emerged. Performance was improving too. Some might call it idealistic, but I believe simply pursuing your ideals day by day makes a huge difference."

We don't work solely for profit. But working for free is meaningless.

But then, as usual, I asked a tricky question. "Still, companies exist to make money, right? They're not hobby clubs or circles. So, how much does that creativity actually earn? As an MD (Director), I imagine you face that question daily from the company and clients..."

Mr. Tsuda's answer was this: "You're absolutely right. I'm currently in charge of monetization projects for creative work too. What I believe is crucial in that context is making the value of our own work and our team's efforts 'visible'. We worked hard, worked hard, and planned it out. With the combined strength of the whole team, we created great creative work. Getting that value recognized by the client, for example as a fee, is incredibly important. We absolutely aren't working just for the money. But we're not working for the service either."

A scene like a comedy sketch popped into my head: "Feed me the best sushi. But I won't pay." In a word, it boils down to "Is there respect there?" The head chef at a sushi restaurant respects his customers. That's why he spares no effort or time to provide the best sushi. Customers respect the chef's work, so they pay the price. Of course, there are times when the chef might say, "No charge today. It's your special wedding anniversary, isn't it?" Isn't that where the drama comes from? Listening to Mr. Tsuda's story, my imagination just started running wild.

From left: Kai Corporation (Virtual Human), Saga Prefecture.
The dynamism of personal passion taking shape. The fervor dedicated to building beloved regions. Mr. Tsuda says he wants to support above all else the creativity where young people's high motivation becomes the driving force for realization.

Living for others

Whether aware of the author's musings or not, Tsuda offered this comment: "Perhaps because I attended a Catholic school, the phrase 'Man for Others' is deeply ingrained in me. Everyone—colleagues, production partners, and of course clients—is an 'other'. The dynamism of creative work lies in unleashing individual power and captivating others and the world with unique personalities. Yet, individual power has its limits. Strangely, when I ask myself, 'What can I do for others?', I feel lighter, and ideas start flowing. If that results in making someone happy, isn't that the greatest joy? I believe knowledge sharing is the same. Knowledge or skills held solely by one person won't spread or grow.

Mr. Tsuda, who views "department meetings as the department's greatest communication opportunity," has significantly revamped them to include diverse content like knowledge sharing, HR updates, and recognizing and rewarding staff achievements. He continues holding them monthly to foster organic connections among every member and boost motivation.

The key elements are "meddling" and "a sense of shared purpose."

"What's crucial for that..." Tsuda continues, "is meddling and a sense of hitching a ride." Meddling means doing something for others without complaining about the hassle. A sense of riding along means jumping on someone else's idea. Both are difficult. It's human nature to hesitate, wondering if doing something might be meddling, or conversely, to instinctively want to refute the other person and get them to do things your way.

When the author asked, "Come to think of it, when I was young, I often got yelled at by my seniors. Was that senior's shouting also a form of meddling?" Tsuda replied, "I think it was more about scolding for the sake of development than anger. Scolding someone takes a lot of energy and is a hassle. But they chose to do it anyway. It's because of that affection, thinking 'We're colleagues hitching a ride on the same job, right?'"

Mr. Tsuda concluded the interview with these words: "I believe creativity is the work of creating atmosphere. It's not about grand things like shaping the spirit of the times, nor is it about creating some vague 'sense' of atmosphere. It's the joy of sharing a common atmosphere with someone right next to you in daily life, or even someone you've just met. That kind of thing rides on media and moves the hearts of many people. I think that's the essence of creativity."

[Editor's Note]

Right at the very end of the interview, I posed this question to Tsuda: "When I see content on the internet, social media, and other so-called new media, I find myself thinking about a hypothesis: 'Don't people ultimately want to do things like commercials?' Whether it's proposing to her, a wedding reception, or your son's sports day—isn't everything just like a commercial?"

Tsuda's answer was this: "Turning it around, I suppose it means everyday life has become like commercials. I think all content is like that. Music, dance—it's the same. That bittersweet feeling from that moment, expressed through this melody—or that buoyant feeling, translated into this dance—that's what captures people's hearts."

In today's parlance (though it might not be considered modern anymore), it's what you'd call "likable." It made me realize once again that no matter how media evolves, the essence of creativity remains unchanged.