I still remember a training program I once attended at a previous workplace.
It always began with participants standing and reciting the “office principles” and “guidelines for conduct.”
Even new employees were required to memorize them by heart, as if this was the very first step in their education.
In fact, their salary and performance evaluation were directly tied to it.
One of the evaluation criteria even included:
“Did you make statements each day in line with the office guidelines?”
At first glance, this may seem like a way to connect principles with daily practice.
But in reality, it only encouraged “forced statements,” stifled free expression, and turned principles into hollow words instead of genuine guidance.
The atmosphere of the training was also peculiar.
The head of the office sat alone in a chair, while all participants stood and took turns reading documents aloud.
Having gone through various training programs at large companies, both domestic and international, I had never seen such an authoritarian style.
Such an approach does not invite respect—it uses principles as a tool for submission rather than for shared growth.
The impact was evident.
A new employee who attended the training only once soon went on long leave.
It seemed like a symbol of how training focused solely on formality can alienate people instead of nurturing them.
Feeling uneasy, I sent an email to the head of the office with some advice:
“Training should not emphasize hierarchy, but rather create a space for learning together. Instead of forcing people to repeat words, why not think together about how to apply the principles in practice? That would resonate more with people’s hearts.”
I never received a reply.
This reminded me of a teaching from the Reikai Monogatari (Spiritual World Story):
“Rei-shu-tai-ju” — to let the spirit (soul, heart) lead, while form and desires follow.
The opposite, “Tai-shu-rei-ju,” is when form dominates and spirit is lost.
The practice of forced recitation and daily speech checks was exactly that—form over spirit.
What truly matters is not memorizing principles, but empathizing with them and putting them into practice.
Principles only become alive when they can be spoken in one’s own words and embodied in daily actions.
Now that I have established my own office as an administrative scrivener, I want to live out principles not through ritualized chants, but through daily practice.
By listening to clients and working together to solve problems, principles naturally come alive.
It is this accumulation of lived practice that builds trust and nurtures a truly meaningful office.
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