"In the morning, one has a rosy face; by evening, one becomes white bones." — A design theory on "death and absence" for individuals and organizations, starting from the "Chapter on White Bones" [Column] The Science of Thought (No. 96)

🧠 Three things you can learn from this column

• ① Death is not an "event" but a "structure." By staring at it, life gains its outline.

• ② "Absence" in an organization arises from structures of dependency on individuals, information hoarding, and centralized decision-making.

• ③ Preparing for the possibility that "it will be okay even if someone is gone" is the greatest trust one can place in people and the future.

🟨 Prologue | Encountering death was awakening to life

◆ A sentence heard at a wake: Encountering the "Chapter on White Bones"

My father, a former Self-Defense Force officer, was different from me. He was proud of his strength from a young age, an all-around athlete who would run full marathons, and even past 60, he had a robust physique and had never been sick a day in his life.

Even in his health checkup at work just before, no abnormalities were found. When he visited a nearby internal medicine clinic because his back hurt a little, he was immediately told to see a specialist at a large hospital, where he underwent detailed examinations.

The result was pancreatic cancer. It was Stage IV, in a condition where surgery was not an option, with only a few months left to live.

It was truly a bolt from the blue.

Even so, my father, who had physical strength, continued with biliary stents and chemotherapy, lived for about another year and a half, and then passed away.

This is a story from about 20 years ago.
I was in my early 30s, and my father was in his mid-60s.

And at the wake to send off my late father, I heard these words.

A person who was healthy in the morning is already white bones by the evening.

It was spoken of as a change that could happen in just one day.

After the first anniversary of his death, I suddenly remembered it and looked it up. This phrase is a passage from the "Chapter on White Bones" by Rennyo Shonin of Jodo Shinshu, which teaches the transience and impermanence of human life.

◆ Not fear, but like a mirror

It was perhaps the moment I realized the reality of death as a structure, not just a simple notion that "death is scary" or "life is short."

I do not know when, to whom, or in what order death will come. But it will surely come.
When I thought that, for some reason, I felt a quiet acceptance rather than anxiety.

How unstable, yet how miraculous, "the here and now" truly is.
This passage showed me the asymmetry of time, not as an emotion, but as a reality.

It was a moment when "being alive right now" felt incredibly precious.

◆ The temporal structure of "rosy complexion in the morning, white bones by evening"

Twenty years have passed since then, and I have lived my life while remaining conscious of "death" in my daily routine.

My parents had many siblings, and after my father, the eldest son, passed away, I had more opportunities to attend relatives' funerals as his representative, taking my mother, who could not drive, with me.

There were also quite a few wakes and funerals related to my workplace.

As a result, I think the number of wakes and funerals I have attended or paid respects at in my 50-plus years of life is surely no less than 100.

Consequently, while living in the Reiwa era, I have come to feel "death" more intuitively and closely than the average person.

And this time, for this Shikou no Kagaku column series, I wanted to reconsider the phrase, "In the morning, one has a rosy complexion; by evening, one becomes white bones."

Furthermore, I wanted to apply this perspective not only to individuals but also to organizations.

For example, if someone suddenly disappears, can an organization continue to function without stopping?
To what extent are the "mechanisms" and "succession" that support this in place? I felt that the phenomenon of death poses the same question to organizations as it does to individuals.

◆ The stance and purpose of this article—Applying Buddhist spirit to the modern age

Of course, the original "Chapter on White Bones" is a text intended to awaken one to the Buddha's teachings, and I do not claim to deeply understand its religious intent.
However, I deeply resonate with the message of "living the present seriously by facing death."
This column is an attempt to think about "how we living in the modern age should face death," while paying respect to that spirit.

Knowing death leads to living the present.
What does it mean to "disappear"? And what remains even then?
I would like to examine these questions little by little from here on.

🟥 Chapter 1 | Attempting to factorize the event called "death"

◆ When "death" suddenly approached me

The first time I seriously thought about "death" was likely that night when I accepted the words "it might end suddenly" as something that applied to me.

Until then, I had shelved "death" somewhere as "something that will come someday, but not now".
However, once you are told, "In the morning one may have a rosy face, and by evening become white bones," that sense of distance collapses instantly.
"Here and now" The feeling that the end called "death" lies calmly on the extension of. I think that is where the thinking began.

◆ What is "death"? — Viewing it as a structure, not an event

We often tend to perceive "death" merely as an event or a timing. An unavoidable end point that arrives suddenly one day. Of course, that is also correct.
But this time, I wanted to dare to factorize it.
In other words, it means breaking down the large phenomenon of "death" into several constituent elements.

◆ Factorization of death:

◆ Factor 1: Irreversibility — The one-way nature of "no return"

Once a person dies, they cannot return.
You cannot rewind time, nor can you redo things.
While you are alive, you have choices, but once you die, everything is finalized.

It is precisely because of this irreversibility of "definitively not being able to return" that I think we feel a responsibility toward "now".
What you choose and what you leave behind all become "once and for all."

◆ Factor 2: Non-selectivity — It comes surely even though you cannot choose it

Unless it is suicide, you cannot choose who dies or when.
No matter how much you take care of your health, you may lose your life in an accident or illness. There is no guarantee that you are safe because you are young or that it is a matter for the distant future.

Not "I might die," but "I will definitely die. And I don't know when.".
We cannot resist this unreasonableness.

◆ Factor 3: Severance of relationships — All connections are suddenly cut

When a person dies, all dialogues, interactions, and promises with that person can no longer be fulfilled.
Even if you think, "I should have talked to them then" or "I should have told them," it can no longer be realized.

Death is a physical end, and at the same time, it is also a forced termination of human relationships.
Those left behind have no choice but to live somehow within that margin.

◆ The focus of "life" seen by factorizing death

What these three have in common is that they are uncontrollable .
No matter how conscious you are, you cannot completely manage or predict death.
That is why I think we unconsciously brace ourselves at the word "death."

However, even if you pretend not to see it, death will not disappear.
Rather, by looking at it, "how to live" begins to take shape.

For example, things you thought, "I want to do it, but maybe next time," change to "No, let's do it now."
Words you felt "It's embarrassing to tell this person" become something you can think, "I'll say it now."

The accumulation of such small choices is what it means to "live properly" .

◆ The "structure of death" exists for both individuals and organizations

When you factorize it, "death" is not just an end, but looks like a light that illuminates what we prioritize and how we spend our time. And shouldn't this light be directed not only at individuals, but also at
organizations and teams?

For example, if someone suddenly disappears from a workplace, meetings for the day stop, projects are interrupted, and tasks that need attention are left hanging—.

Isn't that a common occurrence?

Therefore, the question is not how talented that person is, but whether the design was such that things could run even without them.

In other words, an individual resilient to death is "someone who lives the present moment with care," and an organization resilient to death is a team with a mechanism that can operate assuming someone's absence.

🟩Chapter 2 | "Not being able to function without someone" is the death of an organization

◆ "Another death" faced in the workplace

About 10 years after my father passed away, I unexpectedly encountered another "absence" in the workplace.

A colleague had to undergo surgery due to poor health and suddenly had to take several months off.
Being a responsible person, he had been handling a certain area of work single-handedly.
That is precisely why, just because he was gone, all ongoing projects came to a halt.
No one understood the situation, and we didn't know how to handle it.

——Ah, perhaps this too is a kind of "death". As I was in a position where I had to take over his work, I felt that strongly at the time.

Fortunately, that colleague was able to return to work a few months later.
Even now, past retirement age, he continues to be active as a person with specialized knowledge.
However, during those few months, I was surprised that the "absence of just one person" had enough impact to stop the entire operation, and it became an experience where I understood the risks of work becoming personalized to the bone.

◆ The pathology called "personalization" that eats away at organizations

Through this experience, I realized for the first time the weight of the word "personalization". Work that only specific people understand, decisions that only specific people are entrusted with, relationships that only specific people have built.

At first glance, it looks like proof of being trusted.
But in reality, it is also a precarious state where the entire organization falls into dysfunction just because that person is gone.

◆ Factorization of personalization:

◆ Factor ①: Concentration of information—Work that exists "only in one's head"

Work procedures, background, and progress status exist only in an individual's head.
What has progressed to what point, who is involved—. The situation where only one person knows this is more common than one might imagine.

Information that is not visualized carries the "risk of disappearing" along with a sudden absence.

◆ Factor 2: Monopoly of Judgment—Unverbalized Rules of Thumb

The more experienced a person is, the more they judge and handle things quickly on their own.
It looks smart at first glance, but if it is not reproducible in that case, others cannot handle the same situation.

"Nothing gets decided unless this person is here," "Nothing moves forward without that person"—that is not trust, but the absence of design.

◆ Factor 3: Dependency of Relationships—Relationships that "only work with that person"

Trust with business partners, customer service, and creating the atmosphere within a team.
When everything depends on a specific person, the flow stops in their absence.
More than just work stopping, the connections between people themselves are severed is the characteristic of this factor.

◆ "Being indispensable" is actually a dangerous structure

When these three factors overlap, the organization appears to be established by "that person's existence".
But in reality, it is a structure that "collapses if that person is not there."
The state of being indispensable might sound cool. But in reality, it is very fragile.

◆ Death and absence can be overcome through design

What my father's death taught me was that "disappearing happens suddenly."
And what this workplace incident taught me was the fact that "an organization that does not anticipate absence stops easily."

This is not about saying "it is okay to treat people lightly." It is actually the opposite.
Preparing a system that keeps moving even if someone is gone is, I believe, the true way to respect that person.

◆ Organizations with a "structure of succession" are strong

Someone can take a break with peace of mind. They can respond to sudden absences.
No matter who is there or who leaves, the minimum functions are protected.
Such organizations view people not as "replaceable parts," but as "inherited knowledge and relationships". That is why they are strong.

⬛ Chapter 3 | The aesthetic that an organization moves even if people die

◆ Is "it's okay if you're gone" cold?

Some might feel a certain coldness in an organization where "it's okay if you're gone."
But I think the opposite is true.

Setting things up so that they run even if someone is gone is true consideration for the future.

After experiencing my father's death and witnessing the functional paralysis caused by person-dependency at work, I began to think little by little about the phrase "design based on absence".

This is a way of thinking that also applies to BCP (Business Continuity Planning), but it is also a more everyday and human matter.
For example, a system where work is handed over smoothly even if someone takes a sudden leave.
If information is properly shared, the next person will not be troubled.
Just by having such a mechanism, people can rest with peace of mind and be freed from the thought that "I have to do everything myself."

Since becoming a manager, I have always told my subordinates this.

Of course, in reality, it hasn't always been possible to do this perfectly.
Even so, it is important for everyone to have that awareness.

◆ Factorization of an organization prepared for absence:

◆ Factor 1: Visualization of operations—Moving forward by "seeing"

Whether the workflow, the basis for decisions, the person in charge, and the progress status are in a state that is visible to anyone's eyes.
Whether it be shared folders, meeting minutes, or To-Do lists, the format varies, but being "visualized" is the first step.

By having information "in the space" rather than "in one's head," the team can move immediately even if someone is missing.

◆ Factor 2: Sharing of intent—Conveying the "why"

Why are we doing this work? Why was that decision made?—
If the "purpose" and "intent" are shared, there is less wavering even if the person in charge changes.

By conveying the background and values behind decisions that manuals alone cannot cover,
the team can inherit not just the "how-to" but also the "way of being."

◆ Factor 3: Opening of relationships—Not leaving it to "just that person"

Are trust with external parties and customer service dependent on one specific person?
Is the network of internal consultants biased?
Just reviewing these points will bring you closer to an organization resilient to absence.

Instead of "It's impossible without this person," "This team can handle it"—designing relationships this way enhances the organization's sustainability.

◆ "Continuing to function without someone" is proof of culture

If these three factors are in place, the organization will continue to function even if one person is gone.
This is not about "becoming a replaceable person."
It is about a way of life: "becoming a person who can pass things on so that they are replaceable."

I used to think that being "someone who would be missed if I were gone" was proof of trust.
But now, I think differently.
I feel that "arranging things so they function properly even without me" is the true proof of trust.

It is not an abandonment of responsibility, but rather a mature form of responsibility.

The closer one gets to a management position, the harder it is to realize this, and that is precisely why one must be aware of it.

◆ Design that continues to move even in the face of death

It is impossible to reduce the impact of a person's death on their family or workplace to zero.
However, designing to minimize confusion and anxiety is possible.

"When you are gone, what will remain?"
I believe that preparing for that question is an important preparation we can make while we are still alive.

"Even if a person dies, the organization moves on."
That is not cold rationality.
I believe it is a form of aesthetics, of thinking of someone and leaving behind a future.

🟦Chapter 4 | Becoming a person who is "okay even if I am not there"

◆ Redefining self-affirmation: From "being needed" to "being able to leave things behind"

A while ago, I wanted to be someone who would be "missed if I were gone."
Because that seemed like the quickest way to prove my own value.

But after experiencing my father's death and the chaos caused by over-reliance on specific individuals at work, my thinking changed.
It is a reality that someone can suddenly disappear.
And because of that, those around them may become confused and come to a standstill.

What is truly needed at that time is not just "thank you for being there," but a state of "you entrusted us with this even though you are gone."

◆ From result-oriented to succession-oriented: Transfer of knowledge and design of margins

I am now aiming to be a person who is "okay even if I am not there."
That does not mean abandoning responsibility.
Rather, it is about redesigning the form of responsibility as "something to pass on."

For example, properly sharing work procedures and the basis for decisions.
If there is information that only you know, put it into words and leave it behind.
Even for things you thought "only I can do this," stop for a moment and question if that is really true.
There, a perspective of "making it into a form that can be passed on to the next person" is more necessary than just producing results.

What is important at that time is the idea of leaving behind not just the finished product, but the process as well. Records of hesitation in decision-making, traces of trial and error, and the reasons for choices that were intentionally not made.
It is in such seemingly
"margin" parts that experience and intent shine through.For example, a person's character resides in the deleted sentences and hesitant notes that do not appear in the finished document.

In a result-oriented world, we tend to seek only "perfect results."
But in a succession-oriented approach, a "structure that can be passed on" becomes the greatest result.
Even if you cannot make a perfect copy, you can design a "margin" in advance that someone else can take over.

A person who organizes this is not just competent, but someone who can entrust trust to others in a "tangible form." No matter how excellent the work is, if it is not passed on to others, it will weather away over time.
That is why it is important to continue to be conscious of the "structure that remains after you are gone."

◆ Preparation: "What words will you leave behind before you are gone?"

"Okay even if I am not there" does not mean "not needed."
Rather, it is the opposite: "Even if you are not there, your thoughts are properly continuing."

Even though my father is gone, what he did, and the words and attitude he left behind, still live within me.
And I, too, want to be someone who can leave something behind so that someone else won't be troubled when I am gone someday.

Perhaps that is why I am writing these words now.
Reviewing daily actions little by little and organizing things so that the next person can move easily.
That is a modest form of succession that can be done while alive.

◆ Becoming a person who does not fear death and prepares for the future

Being able to think "it's okay even if I'm not here" is never a lonely thing.
Rather, it leads to the realization that you are designing your life as a structure.

I believe that being conscious of both "what can only be done now" and "what can be left behind now"
is a positive way of living for those who have looked death and absence in the eye.

◆ A place where someone else can make flowers bloom after you are gone

I have received what my father left behind.
Now, it is my turn to leave something behind.
That something does not have to be anything grand.

Preparing a place or a system where "the fact that I was here" can become a source of strength for someone else.
That is a quiet preparation for"being gone" and also a hope that"trusts in what comes next."

🟪 Summary Chapter | The white bones speak: "To live is to pass on the structure."

◆ A journey of thought starting from the inevitability of death and leading to structural sustainability

Since the day my father passed away, I have been thinking about "death" constantly.
It was less about fear and more about an unavoidable re-questioning.

What ends suddenly, and what remains?
How do people endure"being gone"? And what meaning does that hold for those left behind?

The trigger for facing such questions was that passage I heard at the wake.

Death visits everyone.
It has nothing to do with whether you are healthy or whether your heart is prepared.
That is precisely why the message that"how you live this very moment is everything" struck so deeply.

◆ What Buddhism teaches is both "live in the now" and "pass it on to others"

In this column, I have factored down "death" and looked at "absence" as a structure.
Death for an individual, over-reliance on specific people in an organization, and knowledge or relationships that are not passed on.
These were all problems caused by the absence of preparation for the fact of "being gone."

However, conversely,these are also issues that "can be designed."
Even if death itself cannot be avoided, "what remains after death" can be arranged starting now.

I am not a religious person, and this is not a story about faith.
However, at the root of the true meaning that Rennyo Shonin spoke of in the "Chapter on White Bones,"
I feel there is an encouragement to act: "be aware of death" and "therefore, entrust it to others."

◆ Reading the Chapter on White Bones not as words of sorrow, but as a "starting point for design"

Death is an interruption of structure, and also a renewal.
By putting your own thoughts and decision-making processes into words while you are alive,
and by leaving records and trust between people,you can create a system that "continues to function even after you die."

That system is not merely procedures or manuals.
It is a "culture" and a "blueprint"
for others to take over and make bloom next, the fact that your existence was there.

Reading the "Chapter on White Bones" not just as words of sorrow,
but as a starting point for organizing the present.I believe that might be one form of practical Buddhism in the modern age.

◆ Accepting the structure of death and absence is synonymous with living deeply

The days without my father are still a little lonely even now.
I also have the wish that I could have shown him his grandchildren growing up.
But the words, attitudes, and ways of thinking that my father left behind for me still live within me.

I now feel that I want to live in a way that I can pass on what I received from that back to someone else next.

That is not simply inheriting functions or know-how.
It is about one's own will and thoughts continuing into the future through someone else's hands.

"White bones" does not mean that nothing remains.
Rather, I believe that by standing on the premise that there is something that remains even beyond the physical body, we can structurally design our lives and live them deeply.

Profile | Kazuomi Matsunaga

🧭Thinking Navigator

Biography:Graduated from Kyushu University, Faculty of Engineering (Materials Engineering) ⇒ Engineer at a metal materials manufacturer in the Chukyo region (Production Technology) ⇒ Advertising sales for a local free paper in Nagasaki Prefecture ⇒ Educational institution staff (← Now here). A person in their 50s living in Nagasaki Prefecture. Both children have left the nest as university students, and I am living with my wife. I am a writer who lets my thoughts play every day at the intersection of "questions" and "curiosity." Recently, I have been writing about my own unique perspectives on themes such as education, stories, psychology, AI, and design, centered on the serialized column series "The Science of Thought." I am exploring "free knowledge design" that goes beyond existing frameworks. My motto is "Imagination opens up the world."
In my main profession, while being involved in university and education-related work, I value carefully observing "the moment when someone comes to 'like' something" and "the scenes where questions sprout."
🧭 I would be happy if I could deliver articles that leave you with one "new perspective" after reading them.
📮 Feedback and messages of support are always welcome!