The Self Is Continually Formed Through the Presence of the Other
Tada Tomio (1934–2010) was a pioneering immunologist who elevated Japanese medical science to a global level, and at the same time a poet, essayist, and playwright of Noh. Born in Yūki, Ibaraki Prefecture, he graduated from Chiba University School of Medicine, conducted research at the University of Alabama, and later served as Professor of Immunology at the University of Tokyo.
In the 1970s he proposed the concept of suppressor T cells, which at first sparked controversy but later evolved into the theory of regulatory T cells (Treg)—a breakthrough that reshaped our understanding of immune regulation and laid the foundation for modern advances in autoimmunity, cancer immunotherapy, allergy, and transplantation medicine. For these achievements, he received numerous honors, including the Emil von Behring Prize, the Hideyo Noguchi Memorial Medical Award, the Asahi Prize, and recognition as a Person of Cultural Merit.
Yet Tada’s inquiry extended far beyond the laboratory. Through his works Men’eki no Imiron (The Semantics of Immunity) and Seimei no Imiron (The Semantics of Life), he reinterpreted immunity not as a mechanical system of defense, but as a dynamic field of communication mediating between self and other.
For him, the immune system was not designed merely to reject what is foreign—it decides whether to accept or refuse the “meaningful other.” Within this process, he saw the self as something continually formed through relationship—a living process of becoming, rather than a fixed entity.
Tada also regarded the immune system as a Men’eki no Imiron (The Semantics of Immunity), akin to language and art. The diversity of antibodies and the persistence of immune memory, he suggested, reflect the human capacity for symbolism and creation. “Immunity,” he wrote, “is the language within the body.” This idea reached beyond biology into philosophy and aesthetics, opening a profound dialogue between body and language, nature and culture, silence and expression.
His thought resonated with both Western philosophy and Japanese sensibility. The “embodiment of meaning” recalls Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology of the body; “resonance” reflects Heidegger’s Stimmung; the “relation of self and other” parallels Levinas’s ethics of the Other; and the sense of ma—the “space in-between”—echoes Bakhtin’s dialogical thought.
Beneath these correspondences runs a quiet current of Eastern thought—of impermanence and interdependence. Standing between East and West, Tada built bridges between science and the humanities, revealing a cosmology of relation.
In 2001, Tada suffered a brainstem hemorrhage that left him nearly speechless and half paralyzed. Yet through letter-board communication he continued to think and to write, completing works such as Kamokuku naru Kyojin (The Silent Giant) and My Rehabilitation Struggle. Within silence he sought the essence of language and the dignity of existence itself.
In his later years, he turned again to Noh, composing modern plays such as Bōonkwa (Song of Resentment), Okinomiya, and Isseki Sennin. Through these works he wove together poetic sensibility, philosophical depth, and the quiet expressiveness of classical form. Okinomiya, based on the Battle of Okinawa, became a meditation on memory and mourning, and an artistic testament to Japan’s power of “silent expression.”
Tada’s intellectual and artistic endeavors transcend the boundaries between science and the humanities, tradition and modernity, body and language. His work casts new light on the universal themes of life, existence, and otherness—not as abstractions, but as living relationships.
It is not merely interdisciplinary inquiry, but a philosophy that asks, at its core, What does it mean to be human?
His thought continues to inspire new dialogues across medicine, philosophy, art, and society—and invites us to reflect:
“The self is not a closed identity, but a being continually formed through the presence of the other.”
（In touching his work, we sense something deeper—the quiet presence of Void:
emptiness not as absence, but as relation, alive within the human body and mind.）
The Person Behind the Work
Early Struggles and the Turn Toward Poetry
During his years as a medical student, Tada felt lost about his path as a researcher and turned deeply toward poetry. He read the works of Chuya Nakahara, Kenji Miyazawa, and Junzaburō Nishiwaki with devotion, believing that poetry offered “another circuit for grasping the world in words different from science.” This poetic sensitivity remained alive throughout his life, breathing through his essays and Noh plays. In poetry and in the subtle depth of Noh, he sought the quiet presence of the world that science alone could not express.
Guiding the Young―“Listen to Others Before Asserting Yourself”
At the University of Tokyo’s Faculty of Medicine, Tada’s laboratory gathered many young researchers of talent and individuality. Yet he asked them not for assertiveness, but for attentiveness―to value observation over opinion, relationship over self. This attitude reflected his own central view of immunology: that the self can only be defined through its relation to the other.
His mentorship was not limited to teaching experimental skill; it was an education in how to live and think. “To practice science,” he often said, “is to keep asking who you are.” Many of his students later recalled that his influence extended far beyond science―it became a guide for life itself.
‘Okinomiya’―A Prayer for Peace
In his later years, Tada wrote several modern Noh plays, the most notable being Okinomiya, based on the Battle of Okinawa. The work portrays the rising of spirits and their dance with the memories of war―a profound attempt to give voice, through the form of Noh, to what cannot be spoken: the voices of the dead.
Though a scientist, Tada ventured deeply into realms of memory, death, and the irrational. His choice of Noh―a performing art that “speaks profoundly through silence”―reflected his lifelong attention to human pain and the voices that remain unheard. After his illness, he explored with increasing focus the themes of weakness, wordlessness, and resonance―the quiet zones of human existence.
After the Stroke―Speaking Without Words
In 2001, Tada suffered a sudden brainstem hemorrhage that left him almost completely unable to speak and partially paralyzed. For one who had lived by words―as scientist, writer, and playwright―this was a devastating turn. Yet he refused despair. With the help of his wife and rehabilitation staff, he engaged in more than six hours of therapy each day, communicating by pointing to syllables on a phonetic chart―a painstakingly slow method known as letter-board writing.
Through this fragile channel he continued to think and to write, completing works such as Kamokuku naru Kyojin (The Silent Giant) and Watashi no Rihabiri Tōsō (My Struggle for Rehabilitation). Within the silence of aphasia, he confronted questions at the core of human existence: What is silence? How can one live without a voice? In pursuing these questions, Tada revealed not only the essence of language but also the quiet dignity that sustains the human spirit.
Editor’s Note:
In 1991, I attended the premiere of Mumyō no I (The Well of Ignorance), a new Noh play written by Tada Tomio and performed at the National Noh Theatre in Tokyo. The work directly addressed the modern issues of “brain death” and “organ transplantation” within the context of advanced medicine, quietly raising ethical and ontological questions through the traditional form of Noh. Tada was not only a leading immunologist but also an exceptional writer who published many highly regarded essays in both literary and scientific circles, as well as a playwright who created several new Noh works. After the premiere of Mumyō no I, I had the opportunity to meet him in person. He was, like his prose―calm, restrained, and marked by a quiet clarity of mind that left a lasting impression. At present, Tada’s works exist only in Japanese and have not been translated into other languages. When an English edition of Men’eki no Imiron (The Semantics of Immunity) was once considered, the publisher consulted an overseas reviewer, who replied: “If a new philosophy of immunity were ever to arise, it would not come from Japan.” As a result, the project was never realized (Source: Tada Tomio no Cosmology (Tada Tomio’s Cosmology).Given the originality of his ideas and the universality of his thought, a full translation and international introduction of his work are still deeply awaited.
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