The Art of "Kekkai": Constructing Silence in a Chaotic World
What constitutes true gold in the twenty-first century?
It is no longer wealth, nor fame, and certainly not follower counts. It is the resource that has become most scarce in modern society, incr
easingly difficult to find in the external world, and therefore carries the highest value. That resource is “Silence.”
As symbolized by the rise of AI and the acceleration of automation—phenomena everyone is already experiencing—technological aspects will drastically transform social structures in the coming era. In this context, the concept that will undoubtedly emerge as the new gold is Silence. However, we must not misunderstand: this Silence is not a resource buried somewhere in the world, something to be “searched for.” The concept of Silence itself requires a significant update.
Until now, many people believed that spaces of quietude existed in the outside world, and they traveled to escape the noise of daily life. They believed the answer lay in the external world, thinking that physical movement would solve internal problems. And they were correct. Movement created sources of ideas; those who moved had richer imaginations and exponentially more business opportunities than those who settled and remained static. But that is now a story of the past.
The spread of LCCs and the tide of globalization were, in a sense, attempts to democratize this worldview. But as the explosive penetration of social media became intertwined with this, the tide reversed. It now feels as though people are traveling to exterminate Silence from the face of the earth. As someone living in an urban area of Japan, I keenly feel that overtourism has destroyed external Silence; modern tourists act like a military police force, destroying Silence the moment it is discovered. In other words, it has become critical not to be found by those squirming to destroy quietude, but simultaneously, possessing a place or space of Silence in the outside world has itself become a risk.
Through these real-world experiences, while contemplating my next move, I realized something: a wise person can immerse themselves in Silence without moving a single step. This is because Silence is not something to be discovered, but something to be “created” by one’s own will and technique. If we change our perspective, a suspicion arises: no matter how much we travel seeking Silence externally, if there is no Silence within our own internal world—that unseen inner realm—aren’t we merely engaging in a temporary detox?
In reality, we in the modern age are routinely exposed to a muddy torrent of information via smartphones. In response, palliative treatments like digital detoxing and mindfulness have come into vogue. But no matter what methodologies are proposed, how many people realize that these are, after all, merely symptomatic treatments? They are nothing more than temporary evacuation measures. Just as symptomatic therapy does not have the power to cure the root cause of a disease, throwing money at the problem will not achieve sustainable Silence. The fundamental issue is that this digital society we live in is a system structurally designed not to permit Silence. Therefore, for humans used by the digital society, Silence possesses a strictness: it cannot be tolerated; it must not be allowed.
The point of focus here is settlement. In the common sense of the last few centuries regarding sedentary life, people constructed Silence within the places and buildings where they settled. However, due to global environmental changes, social instability, and the massive progression of the digital society, the concept of settlement itself—once the norm—has begun to collapse. Whether we like it or not, we are entering a nomadic century where everyone may suddenly be forced to move. Given the character of this era, constructing Silence dependent on a specific location is far too fragile and becomes a risk. If we view the state of “unable to obtain Silence unless I go to that place” as dependency, we carry the risk that our own mental and physical stability could easily collapse in this unpredictable modern age where anything can happen. I call this the “Vulnerability of Silence.”
That is precisely why we must update the concept to fit the times. Modern Silence is not something given, nor is it something made by someone else; I redefine it as an invisible fortress that one can construct personally, nomadically, within the chaos, regardless of location or situation. Here, I present the wisdom of ancient Japanese technology: “Kekkai.”