Acknowledging what you don't know requires humility. It requires the courage to say, "I am ignorant about this." For many people, this feels vulnerable. We worry that admitting a lack of knowledge makes us look incompetent.
However, in the realm of growth, ignorance is not a weakness; it is a starting point. Recognizing a gap in your knowledge creates a vacuum, and nature abhors a vacuum—this creates the pull to fill it.
In the documentary "The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness," Hayao Miyazaki is shown constantly inspecting moss, insect wings, and rust patterns. When asked why, he shrugged and said (in essence), "Shiranai koto shiritai. How does moss grow on stone in the rain? I don't know. So I look." His films' stunning detail – the soot sprites in Spirited Away, the decaying robot in Castle in the Sky – all emerge from this principle.
Turn on Japanese television, and you'll see the philosophy in action. Shows like "Takeshi no, Kyou no Waidon" (Beat Takeshi's Today's Wide Show) or "Sekai no Hoppu de Aruku!" (Walking on the World's Edge) are built entirely around the premise of exploring the unfamiliar. A segment might feature a ceramic artist in rural Gifu using a 400-year-old kiln technique. The host doesn't pretend to understand it. Instead, they lean in and say, "Shiranai koto shiritai" – and the audience leans in with them. shiranai koto shiritai
Even variety shows include a recurring corner called "Shiranai koto shiritai: Meikyuu no Kyou no Nazotoki" (I want to know the unknown: Today's Labyrinth Mystery Solving). The format is simple: present a strange fact, a local custom, or an unexplained phenomenon, then spend 20 minutes satisfying that curiosity.
As we get older, we tend to accumulate knowledge. We become experts in our fields, we settle into routines, and we form solid opinions. While experience is valuable, it often comes with a side effect: the illusion of competence. We start to believe we have "seen it all."
When we operate from the mindset of “I already know this,” our world shrinks. We stop asking questions. We stop listening. We become passive observers of our own lives. Acknowledging what you don't know requires humility
"Shiranai koto shiritai" is the deliberate shattering of that illusion. It is the admission that no matter how much we have learned, the vast ocean of the unknown remains infinite.
We live in an age of information overload, yet true intellectual humility is rare. Algorithms show us more of what we already like. Echo chambers protect us from discomfort.
Shiranai koto shiritai is the antidote. It means: However, in the realm of growth, ignorance is
We live in an age of information overload. It’s easy to feel pressure to already know everything. We scroll through TikTok, Instagram, or LinkedIn and see people who seem to have mastered art, coding, investing, and sourdough—all before breakfast.
But shiranai koto shiritai flips the script. It says: