The art of outlasting: What we can learn from timeproof Japanese businesses
- Japan is home to an extraordinary number of shinise, or long-established businesses.
- Their strategies — balancing tradition with adaptability, patience with practicality — are a masterclass in long-term thinking.
- These companies didn’t just drift through history: They clawed their way through adversity with white-knuckled adaptability.
Picture yourself on a train hurtling toward Nara Prefecture, hours away from the neon-lit frenzy of Tokyo. The urban sprawl gives way to quieter vistas, the journey itself a pilgrimage of sorts. By the time you arrive in Ikaruga, at Hōryū-ji — widely considered one of the world’s oldest wooden temples — the modern world feels like a distant memory.
The temple, originally commissioned by Prince Shōtoku in the 7th century, stands as a living testament to history, its wooden beams weathered yet unyielding.
Each intricate detail — from the perfectly interlocked joinery, a hallmark of traditional Japanese architecture that has enabled its resilience for over 1,300 years, to the elegant curve of the pagoda’s roof — tells a story of craftsmanship so precise it seems almost supernatural.
Hōryū-ji is more than just a Buddhist temple; now recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1993, it’s a monument to enduring artistry and ingenuity. The very existence of this structure, standing tall for over 1,300 years, speaks to a tradition of care and craftsmanship passed down through generations. It was built and maintained by Kongo Gumi, the world’s oldest construction company, which helped shape Japan’s architectural legacy. Kongo Gumi started as a family business in 578 AD when a Korean immigrant was invited to Japan to bring Buddhist architecture to life. For centuries, this company not only built temples but also maintained them, weathering the storms of history with the same resilience as their creations. Some modern-day companies are so fragile they can barely weather a modest shift in interest rates. Meanwhile, Kongo Gumi endured wars, plagues, and economic collapses — and kept building.
We live in a world increasingly dominated by short-termism. The average lifespan of S&P 500 companies has plummeted from 60 years to less than 20. Businesses rise and fall in the span of decades — sometimes just years. Meanwhile, the stories of Japan’s ancient companies offer a compelling counterpoint.
Japan is home to an extraordinary number of shinise, or long-established businesses. A 2008 study found that Japan had over 21,000 companies older than 100 years, including more than 3,000 that had crossed the 200-year mark. These firms are not just historical artifacts — they are vibrant examples of how to endure and thrive in a rapidly changing world. Their strategies — balancing tradition with adaptability, patience with practicality — are a masterclass in long-term thinking that today’s entrepreneurs and executives would be wise to study.
Shinise: Lessons from the world’s longest-running businesses
Fast-forward to the 21st century, and Kongo Gumi’s financial foundations began to show cracks. Mounting debts forced the company to merge with Takamatsu Construction Group in 2006. While technically no longer independent, the legacy of Kongo Gumi lives on, like the temples they’ve built: enduring, adaptive, and imbued with meaning. It’s an elegant reminder that longevity in business is not just about survival but about evolving with dignity.
To look deeper into the legacy of Japanese longevity mindset, board a train from Kyoto to Awazu Onsen. As the locomotive winds through the countryside, rice paddies stretch like mirrors beneath the sky, reflecting clouds that drift past like centuries. Mountain silhouettes grow bolder on the horizon, and small villages nestle in the valleys, their traditional wooden houses standing resolute against time. Through the window, you might glimpse a farmer tending fields just as his ancestors did or catch the vermillion flash of a torii gate marking sacred ground.
As Mount Hakusan’s peak emerges through the mist, you realize you’re traveling not just through space but through layers of history. The train slows, and you arrive at your destination: Hōshi Ryokan, a hot spring inn that’s been run by the same family for 1,300 years.
The value of adaptability: Flowing like water
In business research circles, the philosophy behind Hōshi’s longevity has been a subject of study. When questioned about the secret to the inn’s millennium-plus of success, Zengoro Hoshi, the 46th-generation owner, is known for sharing a deceptively simple insight: “The secret is to learn from water.” This analogy, while seemingly cryptic, illuminates the ryokan’s enduring strategy. Like water, the business adapts without losing its fundamental nature, finding its path around obstacles while maintaining its essence.
Through centuries of change, Hōshi Ryokan has embodied this philosophy, flowing with the times while remaining anchored to its founding principle: hospitality rooted in harmony and humility. The inn has weathered wars, economic downturns, and shifting travel trends by subtly evolving. It’s resisted the urge to become a flashy resort, instead catering to those who seek the quiet luxury of authenticity. While others chase growth for growth’s sake, Hōshi Ryokan embodies the art of knowing when enough is enough — a business lesson wrapped in a Zen koan.
Growth with purpose: The balance of tradition and innovation
And then there’s Okaya & Co., Ltd., a company with roots in the 17th century that started as a humble hardware store in Nagoya. Founded in 1669, Okaya originally sold farm tools and swords — essentials for the Edo-period economy. Today, the company has transformed into a trading giant dealing in steel, machinery, and electronics. If Hōshi Ryokan is the quiet monk of Japanese business, Okaya is the industrious craftsman, endlessly tinkering and adapting.
What makes Okaya remarkable isn’t just its staying power but its ability to reinvent itself without losing sight of its core values. In its early days, the company played a key role in refurbishing the Ise Jingu, one of Japan’s most sacred sites. This wasn’t just good PR; it was a commitment to community and tradition. Over the centuries, Okaya has expanded geographically and diversified its offerings, but it has never abandoned its roots. Its corporate culture emphasizes employee welfare, a philosophy that dates back to its earliest days. Employees were seen not just as workers but as part of a larger family, an ethos that persists in the company’s operations today.
Long-term thinking in a short-term world
What ties these stories together is an approach to business that’s almost rebellious in its patience. While the modern world glorifies disruption and speed, Japan’s ancient companies remind us that longevity is often about playing the long game. It’s about building something so solid, so aligned with its environment, that it can weather any storm. But let’s not romanticize this too much. Strip away the poetry of water metaphors and ancient traditions, and you’ll find ruthless pragmatism at the core of these businesses’ survival.
When Japan’s post-war construction boom faded, Kongo Gumi didn’t just stick to temples — they pivoted hard into office buildings and apartments while maintaining their temple maintenance business as a hedge. During the lean years of the 1990s recession, Hōshi Ryokan cut costs to the bone while refusing to lay off staff, with family members taking deep pay cuts to keep their centuries-old workforce intact. Okaya transformed from selling samurai swords to becoming a global steel trader, making calculated bets on new technologies and markets while keeping their supply chain relationships rock solid.
These companies didn’t just drift through history — they clawed their way through wars, depressions, and cultural upheavals, making brutal choices about what to preserve and what to sacrifice. Their longevity wasn’t achieved through Zen-like detachment, but through gritted teeth and white-knuckled adaptability.
This resilience feels almost alien in today’s fast-paced business landscape, where hyper-growth and quarterly results reign supreme. Yet, these ancient Japanese enterprises offer a counterintuitive playbook for thriving in the long run — one that modern companies might do well to study. In researching these companies, I’ve discovered a few key ideas.
- Know who you are. Kongo Gumi built temples, and that unwavering focus on their core expertise remained intact, even as they diversified.
- Adapt without losing your essence. Like water, these companies navigated around obstacles, finding ways to survive while staying true to their fundamental values.
- Master the art of patience. Long-term success means resisting the allure of shortcuts and embracing the slow, steady path that truly endures.
The next time you find yourself chasing the latest trend or scrambling to scale up, take a moment to think about that ancient temple built by Kongo Gumi. Imagine the care that went into every beam and joint, and consider the legacy it represents. In the end, the art of outlasting isn’t just about survival. It’s about creating something so enduring, so aligned with its purpose, that it becomes timeless.