Futures of Fūdo / Fūdo of the Future

Masahiro Terada (Research Institute for Humanity and Nature) began by proposing, from the perspectives of historiography and fūdology, that past and future are symmetrical in that both arise through narrative. As philosopher J. E. McTaggart’s argument for “the unreality of time” suggests, past and future do not exist in themselves; they emerge only when narrated in the present.
When time is understood as a linguistic and relational structure grounded in the present, history appears as a practice of composing the past from fragmentary traces. Carlo Ginzburg’s “evidential paradigm” is a method of inferring an unseen past from subtle clues. Terada suggested that this mode of thinking closely parallels the act of envisioning the future, since the future, too, is woven from signs and relations that are present here and now.
Design becomes crucial at this juncture. Design concretizes narratives about the future and implements them within society. The future is not something to be predicted; rather, it is designed through narrative and actualized within relationships.

Terada then turned to a reconsideration of the concept of fūdo itself. With a history of over two thousand years, the term has functioned as a kind of lingua franca across East Asia. Originally referring to natural environment, it has gradually come to be understood as the totality of relations entangling humans and environment, history, technology, and sensibility, and has been inherited as a practical mode of thought.
In Japan, Tetsurō Watsuji philosophically redefined fūdo in his book Fūdo. Watsuji conceived human existence not as an isolated individual but as aidagara (間柄, betweenness or relationality) and located fūdo within the mutual relationship between humans and nature. In this view, fūdo is not merely natural environment but a relational existence inseparable from human activity.
Building on this, Watsuji proposed the idea of the “fūdonian self”, a self already situated within the environment. This was an attempt to move beyond the Cartesian self that separates subject and object. The self is simultaneously the seeing subject and the seen object; subject and object are not separate but mutually constituted within relationships.

This line of thought was later developed by French geographer Augustin Berque in his mesology or fūdogaku (風土学, fūdo studies). Berque analyzed the generation of meaning in the “between” of humans and environment, understanding fūdo as a dynamic relational system. Rather than opposing humans and environment, this perspective reexamines the totality of relations constituted between them. In the face of global challenges such as climate crisis and biodiversity loss, this approach takes on renewed urgency.
Terada suggested that this mode of “not dividing” may render visible domains marginalized under modern dualism. One such domain is care. Within the public/private divide, care has often been relegated to the private sphere and not positioned as a central social value.
From the standpoint of the fūdonian self, however, the self is constituted from the outset within relationships with others and the environment. Our bodies and thoughts are generated through interactions with others, things, living beings, and technologies. If we understand that the external world is already contained within the self, care can be repositioned not as a specialized role or private act but as a practice sustaining existence itself.

The session affirmed that fūdo is always “in the making,” a dynamic process. In discussion with Yoko Akama (RMIT University) and Daijiro Mizuno (Kyoto Institute of Technology), the focus turned to how the relational fūdonian self might be translated into design practice.
Akama referred to the potential of “boundary objects” as devices connecting different worldviews, asking whether the concept of fūdo, or even images of the future, might function as such boundary objects. She also highlighted the importance of “anticipatory infrastructures,” as proposed by Sarah Pink in her keynote, emphasizing dialogical and negotiated practices.
Mizuno agreed that modern Western epistemological design has contributed to unsustainability and, drawing on Arturo Escobar, affirmed the significance of a shift toward ontological design. At the same time, acknowledging that technoscience—such as decomposable materials, digital fabrication, and sensor technologies—is already part of fūdo, he argued for weaving milieu together with technology rather than advocating a return to nature.

Responding to these questions, Terada addressed the embodiment of AI and artificial entities, examining possibilities for coexistence with beings that possess bodies distinct from biological organisms. Rather than opposing the Cartesian self and the fūdonian self, he suggested the challenge lies in integrating them. He also noted that the concept of fūdo is increasingly shared internationally, indicating a growing need for holistic perspectives.
The session concluded with a “Kannō Time.” What does it mean to sense a place and respond to it? Participants spent quiet time experiencing this individually. Following an introduction to the Heart Sutra phrase shiki soku ze kū (色即是空, form is emptiness, meaning all things arise relationally and do not exist independently), participants sat in silence, sensing and responding to the space.