Creativity Across Cultures: (My humble) Understanding of the Japanese Way
In the West, we usually talk about creativity as originality. The lone genius, the breakthrough idea, the disruption that smashes through the old and brings in something shiny and new. But in Japan, the closest word for ‘creativity’ is sōzōsei (創造性)
創 (sō) = to create, to originate, to make something new.
造 (zō) = to build, construct, or manufacture.
性 (sei) = quality, nature, characteristic, essence.
From tea bowls to Toyota
Take the tea ceremony (sadō). Every gesture is rehearsed, every detail prescribed. Same with kadō (flower arranging), calligraphy, or ukiyo-e prints. It looks rigid from the outside, but inside lies a progression:
Shu (守) — follow the form.
Ha (破) — break the form.
Ri (離) — transcend the form.
Creativity there isn’t about rupture, it’s about process. About refining, deepening, layering until the form itself opens into something new. Originality doesn’t come from skipping ahead. It comes from inhabiting the form so completely that one day you slip beyond it.
That same pattern shows up in industry. Toyota’s approach, called kaizen (改善, “continuous improvement”), became world-famous in the second half of the 20th century. On the surface it looks like a management slogan. In reality, it’s a radically different way of organizing creativity at work.
Here’s how it works: on a Toyota assembly line, every single worker has the right — even the responsibility — to stop production if they see a problem. They pull a little handle called the andon cord. Lights flash, the line halts, managers gather. At first glance you’d think: “That must be a disaster! Stopping the line costs money.”
But Toyota treated it differently. Stopping the line wasn’t failure — it was creativity in action. Each pull of the cord was a tiny act of innovation: someone noticed something, improved the process, made the system a bit better. Over time, those thousands of micro-improvements stacked up. Cars became safer, production became smoother, waste was reduced.
This is kaizen at the human level. Creativity isn’t kept at the top with the “genius” CEO or the R&D lab. It’s distributed across the whole workforce. Everyone is empowered to shape the system, little by little. Instead of waiting for one big breakthrough, you build momentum through countless small ones.
In other words: innovation as a culture, not as a lightning strike.
My dojo, my desk
I’ve trained in Japanese martial arts for years, and the same rhythm repeats. First you drill kihon (the individual form). Then kata — the series, the choreography. Only then do you move into kumite, the sparring, the improvisation.
It’s never a straight line. You spar, you learn, you go back to polish kihon. You refine kata. You return to sparring. Kaizen in motion: a loop of discipline, testing, refinement, testing again.
And honestly? I’ve seen how badly we miss this in modern fintech and Western management. We imported “lean” as a buzzword, but we skimmed only the surface — stand-ups, kanban boards, metrics. What got lost was the depth: the culture of continuous, holistic refinement.
Instead, we default to sprint mentality. Grab the low-hanging fruit, claim the “20% impact for 80% effort.” It looks efficient. But it’s not kaizen. It’s a sugar rush, not a culture.
Kihon - Kata - Kumite - Repeat.
Creativity as subtraction
Japanese aesthetics sharpen the point. Two ideas in particular — wabi-sabi (侘寂) and ma (間) — show how creativity doesn’t always come from adding more, but often from holding back.
Wabi-sabi is about imperfection and impermanence. A cracked tea bowl repaired with golden lacquer (kintsugi) isn’t ruined, it’s more beautiful for its scars. Creativity here means recognizing the value in what looks incomplete or flawed.
Ma is the meaningful gap — the silence between notes, the pause in conversation, the empty space in a room. It’s not a void, but a charged interval. What isn’t there shapes meaning just as much as what is. Architects like Tadao Ando build with concrete and light, but it’s the space that breathes between them that gives the design its power.
Now here’s where it matters beyond aesthetics: management. Modern “innovative leadership” often defaults to filling every moment — more meetings, more metrics, more constant stimulation. But if we borrow from ma, leadership also means knowing when to step back. To let the room breathe. To allow silence in a workshop, or slack time in a schedule. To treat the pause not as wasted time but as the generative point where ideas settle, connect, and surface.
In other words, ma isn’t just a design principle. It’s a leadership skill. The ability to resist over-filling, to leave space for others to step in, to allow emergence. And just as with wabi-sabi, it asks managers to stop chasing the illusion of perfection and instead see value in the rough, the partial, the still-forming.
That’s the opposite of the “move fast and break things” mantra. It’s not acceleration and disruption, but patience and subtraction. Creativity, whether on stage, in design, or in management, often lives in the pause — in the space leaders have the courage to leave open.
My takeaway
Whether in a dojo or a boardroom, creativity isn’t a lightning strike. It’s kata, kihon, kumite. Form, repetition, improvisation. And it’s kaizen — looping back, refining, adjusting, again and again.
If Western creativity is smashing the guitar on stage, Japanese creativity is drilling scales until your solo can finally sing.
And from my experience — whether on the straw mat or in the Zoom call — Western creativity and innovation still have mountains to learn from sōzōsei. It’s not just about chasing the next disruption. It’s about embracing continuous improvement, accepting imperfection, and approaching the work with humility. Don’t rush to break and patch for quick gains. If you must repair, do it with gold — make the flaw part of the story. Hold a patient, holistic view of innovation. Improvement isn’t a sprint, it’s a culture.
On sōzōsei (creativity in Japan):
Kono, Y. (2015). The Psychology of Creativity in Japan. Kyoto: Nakanishiya Shuppan. (Explores the cultural framing of creativity as perseverance and harmony, not just originality.)
On kaizen / continuous improvement:
Imai, M. (1986). Kaizen: The Key to Japan’s Competitive Success. McGraw-Hill. (Seminal book introducing kaizen globally.)
On wabi-sabi / imperfection as value:
Koren, L. (1994). Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers. Stone Bridge Press. (Classic English-language text on wabi-sabi aesthetics.)
On Western creativity myths:
Sawyer, R. K. (2011). Explaining Creativity: The Science of Human Innovation. Oxford University Press. (Good overview of the “lone genius” myth vs. process-based models.)
Hennessey, B. A., & Amabile, T. M. (2010). “Creativity.” Annual Review of Psychology, 61, 569–598. (Key academic survey of creativity research.)