As our societies become increasingly interconnected, we face an important choice. We can view diversity as a challenge to be managed, or we can embrace it as an opportunity for growth. The future will be shaped not by how well we preserve comfort, but by how courageously we engage with difference, writes Akinori Seki
WHAT does it truly mean to live together in a world shaped by difference?
This question has followed me for many years, not as an abstract idea, but as a lived experience shaped through encounters with people whose values, beliefs and ways of life differ from my own.
Since my first visit to Bangladesh in 2011, I have been deeply influenced by the people I have met there. Through long-term engagement in educational exchange, I have come to realise that meaningful learning does not begin with teaching others, but with listening — listening to lives shaped by different histories, hopes and responsibilities. In doing so, I began to understand my own culture more clearly, not by comparing it with others, but by seeing it from the outside.
What left a lasting impression on me was not only the warmth of personal hospitality, but the dignity with which people live their everyday lives. Faith, family and community are not abstract ideals; they are lived realities that shape daily decisions and human relationships. Through these encounters, I came to understand that ethics is not something imposed through rules or institutions alone. It is cultivated through relationships, sustained through trust and expressed in how people care for one another.
My continued involvement in exchanges between Japanese and Bangladeshi students is grounded in this belief. Encountering others allows us to reflect on ourselves. It reveals assumptions we rarely question and invites us to reconsider what we take for granted. In this sense, intercultural engagement is not about learning ‘about’ others, but about learning with them.
Both Japanese and Bangladeshi societies are deeply rooted in ethical traditions. Yet those traditions have emerged through different historical and social experiences. In Japan, moral values have often been shaped by an emphasis on harmony, responsibility and social order. In Bangladesh, ethical life is strongly connected to faith, family bonds and communal responsibility. These differences do not suggest superiority or inferiority; rather, they reveal the diverse ways in which human dignity can be expressed.
Through sustained dialogue, students begin to recognise that ethics does not exist in a single form. Instead, it is shaped by lived experience. When young people encounter perspectives different from their own, they learn to reflect more deeply on their values and assumptions. This process fosters humility and encourages growth — qualities essential for living in an interconnected world.
One area where such reflection becomes especially important is in how societies understand death and dignity. In Japan, cremation is almost universal and widely regarded as a natural and appropriate practice. For Muslims, however, burial is a sacred obligation deeply tied to faith and identity. When this difference is not understood, well-intentioned actions can unintentionally cause pain or exclusion.
This issue is no longer theoretical. As Japan faces a rapidly declining population, people from many countries — including Bangladesh — now support essential sectors such as healthcare, agriculture and manufacturing. They live, work and contribute to society every day. As their presence grows, questions surrounding cultural and religious practices, including burial, have become real and immediate.
In some communities, discussions about accommodating such practices have been met with hesitation or uncertainty. These reactions often stem not from hostility, but from unfamiliarity. Yet such moments present an opportunity: an opportunity to reflect on whether a society that depends on diversity is also prepared to respect it, especially at moments of vulnerability and loss.
Ethics, in this context, is not about enforcing sameness or protecting comfort. It is about cultivating the ability to imagine another person’s life and to recognise their dignity, even when their customs differ from our own. Ethical maturity begins when we shift from asking, ‘What is normal for us?’ to asking, ‘What does respect require of us now?’
Through years of engagement with Bangladesh, I have learned that trust is never something to be demanded. It grows slowly through sincerity, patience and mutual respect. Trust emerges when people feel heard, when their values are acknowledged and when differences are approached with openness rather than fear.
Had I approached these relationships with a sense of cultural certainty or superiority, the meaningful connections that now sustain our collaboration would never have formed. True cooperation does not arise from policies alone; it grows from ethical awareness grounded in humility and empathy.
As our societies become increasingly interconnected, we face an important choice. We can view diversity as a challenge to be managed, or we can embrace it as an opportunity for growth. The future will be shaped not by how well we preserve comfort, but by how courageously we engage with difference.
Ethics is not an abstract concept reserved for philosophical debate. It is a lived practice, shaped through everyday interactions and quiet decisions. It is reflected in how we listen, how we respond and how we treat those whose lives differ from our own.
To build a future grounded in dignity and trust, we must be willing to learn from one another. This requires humility, openness and the courage to reflect on our own assumptions. Only then can we create societies where people of different backgrounds live not merely side by side, but together — with respect, understanding and hope.
Akinori Seki is professor and chairperson of the International Exchange Committee at Tokyo Keizai University and president of the Asia Association of Education and Exchange.
