#001 Even though I have a Master's in Literature, I'm fixing bridges.

Table of Contents

1. I was originally a hardcore liberal arts student
2. Giving up on literature, over a decade in sales
3. Unexpectedly entering the construction industry in my 30s
4. Helmets, morning assemblies, and endless drilling
5. Qualifications are a 'passport for crossing borders'
6. How literature came in handy on the job site
7. Not about liberal arts vs. sciences, but...

When asked, 'What is your background?' and I reply, 'I studied literature, even went to graduate school,' the other person usually freezes for a moment.
Because I currently work in a job that fixes bridges.

I am a First-Class Civil Engineering Construction Management Engineer and a Concrete Diagnosis Engineer. Next, I am aiming for Professional Engineer (Steel Structures and Concrete).
No matter how you look at it, it appears to be a 'science-based career'.

But I started out as a die-hard literature youth.
I am writing this in the hope that this half-life full of gaps might provide a hint to someone struggling with their career.

1. I was originally a hardcore liberal arts student

My university major was literature. I went straight on to a master's program, spending my days wrestling with literature and philosophy.

The vast amount of notes I accumulated while writing my master's thesis are still preserved on my website (Praise for the Text), and that time remains the foundation of who I am today.

Reading books, thinking, and writing. That was the center of my life.

I would hole up in the basement of the library from morning until night, opening books and diving into literature, agonizing for days over the interpretation of a single line. I think I was as far away from the word 'productivity' as one could get.
But that 'time spent enduring questions without answers' would eventually pay off later.

Despite that, I gave up on the path of literature.

I'll skip the reasons because it would take too long to write them down, but well, it's a common story. A story of dreams and reality.

However, what is important here is—
That 'giving up' was not the end of my career.
Rather, this was where the real thing began.

2. Giving up on literature, over a decade in sales

After leaving the path of literature, I joined an online wholesale company and spent over a decade living a life commuting between Okayama and Tokyo. How many times did I visit a certain major foreign online company...

I would read documents while being swayed on the Shinkansen, have business meetings upon arrival, and move again once finished.
What I acquired through the repetition of those days was the ABCs of sales. Or rather, it is no exaggeration to say that I learned everything about sales here.

Listen to the customer. Find the issues. Make a proposal. Get rejected. Keep visiting anyway.
While being chased by numbers, I spent every day earning my keep with my feet.

Days that had nothing to do with literature... or so I thought, but looking back, that wasn't the case.
Reading between the lines of what the other person says. Grasping the context. Choosing words that convey meaning.

Sales is actually a job of 'reading' in a massive way.
The training in reading texts was also training in reading people.

3. Unexpectedly entering the construction industry in my 30s

One day, I heard that 'the construction industry seems to be looking for sales people'.
In the construction industry, especially in the world of civil engineering, even if there are engineers, there are surprisingly few 'people who can do sales.' The sales skills I cultivated over a decade became a weapon just as they were.
Hearing that, I made a fresh start.

In my late 30s, I jumped into the construction industry.

An inexperienced industry, and a liberal arts background at that. It would be a lie to say I wasn't anxious.
But the maintenance and management of infrastructure is a job that will definitely continue to be needed in Japan from now on. Bridges and tunnels built during the period of high economic growth are all reaching the age of deterioration at the same time.

Bringing my sales ability into an industry piled high with issues.
To use a trendy term, it might have been what you call a career pivot.

A Master of Literature, through online wholesale, to the world of civil engineering.

I have confidence in the lack of consistency in my resume.
But this 'lack of consistency' is exactly what pays off later.

4. Helmets, morning assemblies, and endless drilling

Although I joined as a salesperson, the world of civil engineering is not that easy.

'Even in sales, you can't talk if you don't know the site.'

So, immediately after joining, I put on a helmet and started participating in the morning assembly.
I was assigned to a site for cross-sectional repair of bridges and carbon fiber bonding.

...You don't know what I'm talking about, right?

It's okay. I didn't understand it at the time either.

Chipping away (i.e., scraping off) deteriorated concrete with a drill, recreating the cross-section, and reinforcing it with carbon fiber sheets. Roughly speaking, that's the kind of construction it is, but all I could see at the time was the scene of 'drilling bridges every day.'

The sound is incredible. The vibration is incredible. And I had no idea when this work would end.

For a 30-something salesperson from a literature department, this was quite a baptism.

Half of the words exchanged at the morning assembly were technical terms, and at first, it felt like taking a foreign language class.

Even so, as I watched the movements of the craftsmen every day, I began to understand that there is meaning in every single task.

Ask honestly about things you don't understand. This is a basic principle that was drilled into me during my sales days.

And strangely enough, when you stand on the site every day, you start to hear something like the 'voice of the bridge' little by little.

This part is damaged. This part is still okay.

I began to be able to read the 'lines between the lines' that exist between the drawings and the actual object.
From around this time, the work started to become interesting.

5. Qualifications are a 'passport for crossing borders'

Once I understood the site, I wanted systematic knowledge.
So I started studying for qualifications.

First, the First-Class Civil Engineering Construction Management Engineer. Next, the Concrete Diagnosis Engineer.

For someone from a liberal arts background, the world of structures and materials is a start from zero.
Honestly, it was tough.

However, what proved effective here was my experience from graduate school.

Reading vast amounts of literature, structuring it, and outputting it in my own words.
The muscles I trained for my master's thesis worked in almost the same way as studying for certification exams. When it comes to "reading" text, I am a professional.

The style of steadily building up progress after work or during travel time was already established during my sales days when I traveled back and forth between Okayama and Tokyo.

For someone who jumped in from a different industry, a certification is a "passport for crossing borders."

A single passing certificate silences the gaze that asks, "You're from a humanities background, will you be okay?"

The Professional Engineer (Steel and Concrete Structures) certification I am currently attempting is intended to be the culmination of that. (Will I really pass??)

6. A story about how literature was useful in the field

I am often asked, "Is literature useful for work?"

It is. I can state that definitively.

What is most useful is "sensibility."

In the world of professional engineering, "field sense" is highly valued, but this is a kind of intuition that you cannot acquire just by reading a manual.

The ability to feel "this is suspicious" when looking at a crack in concrete. The ability to pick up on discomfort that does not appear in numerical values.

Actually, the exact same sense is required in the world of literature and philosophy.
Feeling the subtle fluctuations of a text. Putting into words things that cannot be expressed in words.

I spent my entire twenties training for that.

So, I believe that sense has been fully utilized in the field as well.
Besides, there is the power of writing and the power of conveying.

The world of inspection and diagnosis ultimately consists of "reports" and "explanations." No matter how accurately you investigate, it is meaningless if it is not conveyed.

Translating the condition of a structure into words that even a non-specialist client can understand.
I believe this "translation" work is the exclusive domain of the humanities.

Reading cracks, and reading between the lines.

What I am doing might actually not be that different.

7. Not about humanities or sciences

Now, at a bridge repair company, I do sales and also go out into the field.

I have also started serving as an instructor at the Concrete Diagnosis Association.

The day I would teach specialized technology in front of people is something I could not have imagined back then, when I didn't even know how to wear a helmet.

If I told my twenty-something self who gave up on literature about this, I probably wouldn't believe it.

But looking back, nothing was a waste.

The power to read from literature. The power to convey from sales. The power to see from the field.

Everything I picked up in each place is now connected on the bridge.

When it comes to career talk, the distinction between "humanities or sciences" often comes up.
But as someone who took a detour of over ten years to reach this bridge, let me say this.

That distinction doesn't mean much.

The power to read text became the power to read people, the power of sales, and the power to read concrete.
There is nothing to throw away from what you pick up on a detour. Everything connects somewhere.

In the startup world, you often hear the term "cross-border talent." The idea that people who have another axis outside their specialty are strong.

If so, a detour is not a weakness, but rather an asset.

That is why I want to tell people who are lost in their careers this.

Not about humanities or sciences.

Go toward the more interesting path.