A Scientist Who Saw Life as Relation
Nakai Jun’nosuke (1918–2004) was a Japanese anatomist and one of the pioneering figures who supported the early development of neuroscience in Japan.
Born in Kyoto, he studied at Daiichi High School (later part of the University of Tokyo), then graduated from the University of Tokyo’s Faculty of Medicine.
In 1957 he became Professor of Anatomy at the same university, later serving as Vice President of the University of Tsukuba and as the first President of Hamamatsu University School of Medicine.
Throughout his life, he upheld the belief that science exists to serve human society—a conviction he embodied quietly yet steadfastly.
Among his many achievements, Nakai is best known for being the first in the world to successfully co-culture nerve and muscle cells and to form a functional neuromuscular junction.
This breakthrough marked a decisive step toward understanding how the nervous system works.
In recognition of his contributions, he was elected in 1976 as the first Japanese Honorary Member of the American Association of Anatomists.
Yet his true value lay not only in technical accomplishment, but in the attitude behind it—
the view of seeing life as life itself.
He observed cells not as mere experimental materials, but as entities that held their own inner worlds.
One of his students recalled:
“Professor Nakai looked at cells not as things, but as living beings.”
In that way of seeing breathed a Japanese sense of scholarship—
one that does not rush toward results, but finds reflection and harmony in the process itself.
His thought can be seen as the origin of a lineage that later appeared in the works of his students:
in Yoro Takeshi’s The Brainized Society, which questioned human-centered thinking,
and in Tada Tomio’s The Meaning of Immunity, which explored the philosophy of life as mutual interaction.
Nakai’s work stood at the source of this current of knowledge that seeks to understand life through relationship rather than isolation.
As an educator, he valued not the transmission of knowledge alone,
but the attitude with which one faces research.
He gave his students the freedom to explore,
and asked of them sincerity and self-discipline more than results.
All eleven of his doctoral students later became professors—
a living proof that his philosophy had taken root.
It was, in a sense, another kind of “neuromuscular junction,”
in which a teacher nurtured new life through his students.
At the heart of Nakai’s research and teaching was a vision that opened science toward the inner life of human beings.
Through the visible cell, he sought the invisible relations that sustain existence.
His gaze formed a quiet bridge between science and ethics,
between observation and empathy.
How might we, today, bring together observation and compassion?
The life of Nakai Junnosuke remains a quiet answer to that question.
It continues to illuminate the idea that science is never separate from humanity—
that life resonates with life,
and that this resonance itself is the enduring light by which we come to know the living world.
The Person Behind the Work
Taking a Leave of Absence for a Friend
During his high school years under the old system, one of Nakai’s exceptionally gifted friends fell ill with a mental disorder.
Nakai recalled a farm in Hokkaido where he had once stayed for a kendo training camp―a vast landscape surrounded by open fields, and a couple whose generosity and warmth had left a lasting impression on him.
Believing that his friend’s spirit might find rest in such a place, Nakai chose to take a leave from school and live with him there for a time.
In this quiet act of youthful compassion, one can already sense the “gentle courage to care for others” that would define his life.
The “Four Reductions” of the Faculty Meeting
While serving as head of the Department of Anatomy at the University of Tokyo, Nakai sought to correct the inefficiency of faculty meetings.
He introduced what he called the Four Reductions:
(1) Reduce the number of committees.
(2) Reduce the number of members.
(3) Reduce the frequency of meetings.
(4) Reduce the duration of each meeting.
Guided by his conviction that “the true duty of university teachers is to study,” this reform valued essence over form and left a deep impression on his colleagues.
Treating Technicians as “Collaborators”
In his research, Nakai regarded assistants and technicians not as subordinates but as collaborators.
He included their names as co-authors on papers and recognized their contributions with fairness and respect.
To Nakai, a technician was not a mere operator of instruments. Through years of practice, they had cultivated sensibilities that only time could teach―awareness of a tool’s temperament, the mood of materials, the subtle differences in light and humidity.
Even in the midst of repetitive work, they would silently ask themselves, “How can this be improved? Is this beautiful?”
Nakai saw in such “thinking hands” a form of wisdom essential to science itself.
He valued not only results, but the quiet weight of accumulated effort―the knowledge that resides in the work of each day.
“True Learning Is Understanding Another’s Pain”
Nakai often said, “True learning is the ability to understand another’s pain.”
In those words lay his belief that before one is a scientist, one must remain a human being―capable of empathy and imagination toward others.
For him, all scholarship and technique began with understanding people.
That quiet philosophy continues to live on, resonating softly in the hearts of those who follow in his path.