People who use strong words might actually be the most fragile. I was struck by Hikaru's recent comments regarding Takashi Okamura.
The context is this: Hikaru previously called the legendary Tamori "not funny," to which Sharaku Tatekawa expressed disapproval. Later, Hikaru and Sharaku collaborated on YouTube. Hikaru remarked that Sharaku's ability to accept criticism and collaborate showed "great character."
Then, the conversation turned to Okamura. On his radio show, Okamura had said of YouTubers, "They aren't funny; they just talk a lot. They're just chatterboxes." Essentially, he was saying that being able to talk and being funny are different things.
Hikaru reacted to this.
"He's been boring lately."
"You're just a chatterbox too."
Up to this point, it might have been seen as a "comeback." The phrasing was rough, but it was still within the bounds of a "funny debate" between a comedian and a YouTuber.
But the problem came after.
"He seems mentally weak, doesn't he?"
With that one sentence, the atmosphere changed. They were supposed to be talking about what is or isn't funny, but suddenly it felt like he was poking at the opponent's inner vulnerability. Moreover, Okamura has a history of taking a hiatus due to physical and mental health issues. For those who know that, it doesn't come off as just "sharp-tongued."
"Oh, you're going there?"
The atmosphere instantly shifted from laughter to coldness. There are words that do that.
Criticism and Attack Are Similar but Different
Criticizing someone isn't inherently bad.
"It's not funny."
"It doesn't fit the current era."
"I don't see any talking skill."
These are harsh words, but they are still about the content. They are evaluations of craft, expression, and work.
But "He seems mentally weak" is different.
That isn't about ability; it sounds like finding a person's inner weakness and striking it.
Watching this reminded me of my mother.
My mother was also the type who, if I expressed even a slight counter-opinion, would try to crush me rather than have a discussion.
It never ended with "There's that way of thinking too."
"You are wrong."
"It's strange that you would say such a thing."
"Who do you think got you this far?"
Before I knew it, the focus wasn't on the content of the conversation, but on my character or past failures.
I only offered a rebuttal, yet somehow I became the villain.
I only stated an opinion, yet I was crushed.
I think people who have experienced this will understand. Those who suddenly become aggressive when you offer a slightly different opinion. Those who turn what should be a discussion into an attack on your character. Those who treat a difference of opinion as a betrayal.
That isn't a conversation.
It is suppression to silence the other person.
When pushed down by strong words, people gradually stop sharing their thoughts. It becomes a hassle to argue, and they stay silent, thinking they'll just be crushed again anyway. But that doesn't mean they are convinced. They've just distanced themselves emotionally.
I felt something similar in Hikaru's words this time. It's fine to refute an opponent's opinion. But finding the opponent's weak spot and trying to crush it—that isn't a debate; it's dominance.
I've Always Been Bothered by That
I used to watch Hikaru's YouTube. Buying out all the lottery tickets at a festival stall. Using large sums of money to do things ordinary people can't. Cornering the opponent until they can't escape and showing, "See, I was right after all."
Certainly, it had a power that made you watch.
But to be honest, I always wondered.
What exactly is so funny about this?
Someone with money uses that money to control the situation. The opponent gets flustered. They are troubled. They lose their way out. Watching that, the audience on this side of the screen gets excited, thinking "Wow, that's amazing." But isn't that more of a display of power than humor?
Of course, doing what no one else can makes for a good project. Stepping into places ordinary people won't is what gets attention. I understand that Hikaru's strength lay in not ending things with platitudes.
But there was always a small sense of discomfort deep in my chest.
Is this funny, or are we just watching someone get cornered?
Is he just dominating the scene with money as a weapon?
Are we just calling that "entertainment"?
If I say this, I'll probably be told, "If you don't like it, don't watch."
Yes, that's true. But people do watch, don't they?
That's the part I hate most.
We Have Also Watched That Vulgarity
It's easy to just blame Hikaru.
"He went too far."
"How rude."
"What's wrong with him as a person?"
By saying that, you stay in a safe place.
But is that really true?
We have been watching these things too. We've watched videos of people being cornered. We've followed the controversies. We've read the exposés. We've even gone to check the comment sections.
While saying "This is terrible," we watch until the end. While saying "Isn't this too much?", we wait for the next development. While saying "What's wrong with him as a person?", somewhere in our hearts, we are enjoying the stir.
Yes, that's completely us.
People say nice things, but somewhere, they are interested in scenes where a strong person corners someone else. The opponent's troubled face, the moment they can't talk back, the moment the atmosphere turns tense. While thinking "this isn't good," we can't look away.
To put it bluntly, there is that kind of vulgar curiosity within humans. We usually hide it. We pretend we aren't that kind of person. But every time a controversy, exposé, or "logical beatdown" goes viral, we are exposed.
It's not that we love a kind world. We love other people's disasters seen from a place where we won't get hurt.
The True Nature of "Feeling Refreshed" Is Usually Dangerous
Flipping the script with money. Exposing the opponent's contradictions. Blocking the exit and dragging out their true feelings. We have called these things "refreshing" (sukatto).
But maybe we weren't actually feeling refreshed. Maybe we were just getting a bit of a thrill watching someone corner someone else from a safe distance.
I smelled the same thing in the phrase "He seems mentally weak." Finding the opponent's weak spot. Stepping into it. Showing off one's own strength. Making the surroundings stir. The old project of buying out festival lottery tickets and the comment toward Okamura seem like different events, but I feel they share the same root.
It's the pleasure of dominance, rather than humor.
And we have watched that pleasure of dominance, calling it "entertainment."
Among those angry at Hikaru's words, there must be people who enjoyed watching those past projects. Including myself. We watched scenes of people being cornered, yet only when it's directed at a celebrity's mental vulnerability do we say, "Don't go that far."
Of course, that feeling is correct. There is a line that shouldn't be crossed.
But at the same time, we are hypocritical. We nurture entertainment that moves others through force, but as soon as that force is directed somewhere we don't want to see, we frown and say it's "distasteful."
No, maybe there was never any "taste" to begin with. It was just hard to see because it was through a screen.
The Stronger You Are, the More People Watch to See What You Don't Say
Hikaru is no longer a weak challenger. He has the subscribers. He has the fame. He has the influence. If he speaks, it becomes news. In other words, he is already on the strong side.
If an unknown youth bites at a veteran, it can look like an underdog story. But when someone who already holds great power touches on an opponent's mental weakness, the view changes.
It looks like an attack, not a challenge.
It looks like bullying, not criticism.
Even with the same words, the weight changes depending on who says them and from what position.
And "speaking one's mind" is not a license to hurt others. Just because it's your true opinion doesn't mean you can say anything. Being honest doesn't make you superior. In fact, true feelings are the hardest to handle.
Like a knife, the sharper it is, the more dangerous it becomes if you put it in the wrong place. If you cut ingredients, it becomes a meal; if you point it at a person, it's just a weapon.
At 66 years old, I think this:
People become dull to others' pain when they are in a safe place. And what's truly scary isn't just the person spitting venom. It might be us, who nurture that venom by calling it "interesting," only to suddenly put on a face of virtue when it flies in a direction we dislike.
This isn't just about Hikaru.
Anyone who has gone to watch a controversy. Anyone who has read the comment sections. Anyone who has followed a story to the end while saying "This is terrible."
It probably hits home for everyone.
If you want to look at human nature together, beyond just platitudes, please follow me.
