05 December 2025 – Yoshitsugu Hayashi, Executive Committee member of the Club of Rome and President of its Japanese Association, has spent his life weaving together science, policy and humanity. He reflects on his work with communications fellow Yvonne Wambua.
How did you first become involved with the Club of Rome and why did you become a member?
It began with the creation of a horizontal graduate school at Nagoya University in 2000. This was the first of its kind in Japan, designed to bring together earth sciences, engineering, social sciences, law, economics and even philosophy under one roof. Our idea was that sustainability cannot be understood through one discipline alone but must be experienced as an interconnected whole. While I was dean, I invited Ernst von Weizsäcker, then co-president of the Club of Rome, to join us many times as a speaker and peer reviewer. Through these exchanges and with encouragement from Ernst and Roberto Peccei, I became a full member. For me, it is about belonging to a community that shares a commitment to holistic, human-centred sustainability.
You are also a member of the Executive Committee and president of the Japanese Association of the Club of Rome. What do these roles entail and what works are you particularly proud of?
On the Executive Committee, I worked to establish a more systematic and fair process for welcoming new members. Instead of relying only on personal recommendations, we introduced criteria to ensure diversity by gender, geography and field of expertise. It may sound technical, but what it really means is creating a space where voices from underrepresented regions and perspectives are heard and valued.
As president of the Japanese Association, I wanted to bring Asia’s own contributions to the global stage. I found that culture can be a powerful bridge. Take anime, for instance, beloved by children and adults around the world. It carries stories of empathy, imagination and care for future generations. Or judo, whose philosophy teaches us to use strength wisely and to respect opponents, bowing before and after each match. These practices embody coexistence and harmony, values the world urgently needs. Through symposia in Japan, Taiwan and China, we use these cultural touchpoints to spark dialogue about peace and sustainability.
How does your current work align with the goals and mission of the Club of Rome?
My guiding principle is that sustainability and resilience must go hand in hand. I often explain this with the image of a tightrope walker balancing with a long bar. Resilience is the ability to recover when the wind blows you off balance, while sustainability is the bar itself, the steadying force that keeps you moving forward. Without resilience, each step is impossible; without sustainability, the bar breaks and the walk ends.
In my research, this translates into tackling issues like uncontrolled urban sprawl. I argue for “smart growth,” where cities expand along railway lines to keep communities connected and “smart shrink,” where cities retreat from hazardous areas to protect lives. These ideas are not abstract. They are about giving people safer, shorter commutes, cleaner air and better quality of life. This is how my work resonates with The Club of Rome’s mission: combining systemic change with care for everyday human experience.
When you reflect on your own life’s journey, was there a point where you realised that system change was not just necessary, but urgent?
Yes, vividly. In Bangkok in the early 1990s, I saw millions of people losing hours of their lives every day to traffic congestion, with no railways to relieve them. As chair of a Japanese Aid Project, I helped introduce the first urban rail systems. At the start, hardly anyone believed in the idea. Yet within 25 years, Bangkok built over 300 kilometres of railway. Compare that to Tokyo, which took nearly 90 years to achieve a similar scale. That experience showed me how urgent and possible systemic change can be. It is not a distant dream but a matter of political will, vision and empathy for the daily suffering of citizens.
Your work often measures success by how it improves everyday life—access to hospitals, safety, the environment. What inspired you to centre human wellbeing in transport planning?
Because safety is unequal. Air pollution silently kills 6.5 million people annually. That is far more than traffic accidents, yet it receives less global attention. Vulnerable families in flood-prone areas, like the Manila Bay slums, face daily risks that wealthier neighbours nearby can avoid. This inequity is unacceptable. Infrastructure must reduce these risks, not deepen them. That is why I wrote Disaster Resilient Cities, documenting cases where resilience and equity were inseparable. The core message is the same as the SDGs: no one should be left behind. Human wellbeing must always be the first measure of success.
If you could call for a shift in a global mindset about transport and climate resilience, what would it be and how might that shift ripple outward to support the Club of Rome’s mission for a better future?
We must leave behind “either-or” thinking. It is not cars versus buses, or growth versus decline. It is about integrated systems that combine the best of all options. The world must learn humility. Humans are not at the top of the living order; we are one member among many. Once we embrace coexistence, resilience and sustainability will follow. This mindset, grounded in respect for life and equity for all, will ripple outward and support the Club of Rome’s vision of a more just and sustainable world.
After decades of watching cities transform, what gives you hope that a sustainable, equitable future is still within reach?
Hope comes from people and from culture. I see it in the philosophy of judo, where opponents bow to one another, recognising their shared humanity even after fierce competition. I see it in Ubuntu, the African philosophy of togetherness and in the countless small acts of solidarity I have witnessed across countries. History also tells us that change can be faster than we imagine, Bangkok’s railway story is proof. And I draw hope from The Club of Rome itself. From The Limits to Growth to inspiring the Brundtland Commission and the SDGs, its legacy shows that ideas rooted in long-term thinking can shape global action. These are reminders that even amid today’s crises; respect, cooperation and imagination can still carry us toward a sustainable and equitable future.
