Birth of the Flying Professor: A Life Lived in Midair

Birth of the Flying Professor

Some people earn nicknames. Others crash into them headfirst. I did both—at cruising altitude. They call me Flying Professor. Not because I wear a cape like Superman (though I’ve considered it), but for three very specific reasons:

1. I Fly—Literally.

Before COVID-19 grounded the world, I was airborne more often than a migrating goose. I’ve lectured, researched, and wandered across continents. In 1993, I was a visiting scholar at Bond University in Australia. In 2004–2005, I landed at East-West Center in Hawaii as a OBUCHI fellow. It dawned on me that my passport has more stamps than a post office.

2. I Fly—Mentally.

My ideas tend to defy gravity. I’m what polite academics call “unorthodox.” What others might call “a delightful troublemaker.” I never quite fit into the neat boxes academia loves. I prefer to dance on the edges—where philosophy meets technologies, and business meets art.

3. I Fly—Prematurely.

I don’t wait for the starting gun. If I see something worth doing, I leap. Sometimes I land. Sometimes I crash. But I always learn. My comfort zone? Never met her. I’ve spent my life in unfamiliar fields, foreign lands, and interdisciplinary chaos—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

From Literature Dreams to Business Realities

I wanted to be a philosopher. Or a novelist. Or maybe a manga artist. But I was born into a family where dreams didn’t pay the bills. So I chose Faculty of Business Administration—not out of love, but survival. Although I've spent years researching economics and business management, I can't say they've ever really resonated with me. Still do. But I devoured a wide variety of literature, sci-fi, and mystery novels like oxygen. I even made pilgrimages to the Annecy International Animation Festival in France, just to breathe in the magic.

I didn’t plan to become a researcher. I didn’t even know the difference between a business school and a graduate research program. I stumbled into a five-year academic apprenticeship that felt more medieval than modern. I read papers I didn’t care about, wrote things I didn’t believe in, and lost years I’ll never get back. My biggest regret? Not studying abroad in my younger years, when the world was wide open and I hadn’t yet learned to doubt my own dreams. My biggest lesson? Don’t let institutions, expectations, or outdated rules decide who you’re supposed to become. Carve your own path—even if it means walking alone at first.

Falling in Love with the Internet

Then came the internet. It hit me like a meteor. I knew instantly: this would change everything. I spent over a million yen on my first PC setup and dove headfirst into the digital revolution. But Japan’s education system was stuck in analog. I nearly gave up—until COVID-19 arrived like a disruptive angel. Suddenly, online education, telework, Web3, and AI were everywhere. I felt that old spark again.

In my final year as a university professor, I launched a cutting-edge digital course. Thanks to collaborations with Abeam Consulting Co., Ltd. and MAIA Co., Ltd. I found myself back in the cockpit—this time flying through cyberspace.

The Accidental Innovator

In 1997, I was named one of Japan’s “Young Iron Scholars（GAKUMON NO TETSUJIN)” in Organizational Behavior. In 1998 I joined University of the Ryukyus. Then came another detour: industry-academia collaboration. I was appointed to a committee while I was away on a business trip—without my consent. Instead of quitting, I turned it into a research theme, won a grant, and spent the next 20+ years exploring innovation, startups, and entrepreneurship. I became a regular at ISPIM, UIIN, and Triple Helix conferences. One of my papers even made it into a journal. Not bad for a rebel.

Education Reimagined

In 2011, I secured a big budget for youth career education in Okinawa. But the program focused too much on job-hunting and “recruit suits”—symbols of conformity I despise. I stepped down after two years, determined to build an education system that nurtures individuality and sparks innovation.

My motto? Be happy & make someone happy. That led me to collaborate with health organizations, public health experts, and even tropical biology researchers. I’ve worked with departments from agriculture to engineering, medicine to multimedia. I helped students win animation contests and built special courses on ubiquitous computing. I’ve spent over 20 years bridging academia, government, and startups.

Dreams Still in Flight

I want to go to space before I die. I want to connect my brain directly to the internet. I want to replace my damaged leg (skiing accident) with a stem-cell-engineered upgrade. I want to eradicate poverty—not through politics, but through social entrepreneurship. I’ve studied slums and garbage mountains, searching for business seeds. The Skoll World Forum on Social Entrepreneurship held at the University of Oxford lit a fire in me that still burns.

And most of all, I want to create joyful, effective education through digital technology. I was lost most of the time in class. Japan’s system made me hate English and math. I dream of an AI-powered personalized learning system called "La La La Learn"—where no child is left behind.

What’s Next?

I have retired from academia in March 2024. But I’m not done flying.The runway may have changed, but the sky is still mine to explore. From here on, I’ll call myself an Independent Research Artist—free to wander, to wonder, and to weave new worlds of learning.

What once lived in lecture halls now dances in digital space. And what was once a career becomes a calling. I won’t start a company—unless contracts require a legal entity. Then I’ll launch a general incorporated association. If brilliant minds gather, maybe a startup will follow.

Until then, I’ll keep flying—across disciplines, across borders, across ideas.

Because once you’ve tasted the sky, the ground just feels too small.

A Message to the Young: Fly Before You're Ready

If you want to do what you love, first learn how to live.

Not just survive. Not just follow the rules. But truly, wildly, unapologetically live.

It’s okay to jump before the signal. In fact—jump early. Leap before you're “qualified.” Start before you're “ready.” Because waiting for permission is how dreams die.

Don’t let “normal” define you. Trust your weirdness. Honor your difference. That’s where your power lives.

Education? Career? They don’t have to be cages. They can be wings.

And life? You only get one. So fly. Fly high. Fly far. Fly like your soul depends on it.

Flying Professor isn’t just a nickname. It’s a way of life—a refusal to be boxed in, a celebration of joyful rebellion.

So I ask you: Will you fly with me? Into the unknown, into the joy, into the wild sky where rules dissolve and stories begin.

Note: This article was created using generative AI, based on the author’s original ideas and notes.

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"You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?" — Rumi

Rumi (1207–1273) was a Persian poet and mystic whose timeless verses celebrate love, freedom, and the soul’s journey. His words continue to inspire people across cultures with their deep spiritual insight and universal beauty.