Craftsmanship means something different to the Japanese people - something much deeper.
“Shokunin” is the name for a craftsperson in Japan, but to hold this title means more than just a mastery of skills – it is a profound way of living. It’s a life enhanced by intention, humility, respect, and social responsibility.
Japanese author Toshio Odate’s book, Japanese Woodworking Tools: Their Tradition, Spirit, and Use, brings light to how the characteristics of a shokunin extend beyond just the quality of work and mastery of skills. It highlights how they show up in the world, infusing everyday tasks with spiritual significance and deep connection.
Reading this book made me realize how strong the Japanese connection to craft is - how they utilize craft not only to produce beautiful work, but to perfect their own character and serve the greater community.
This book focuses on woodworking, but it’s immediately apparent that life through the eyes of a shokunin can serve as inspiration to anyone wanting to craft a better life.
Let’s explore how to do that.
A Day in the Life of a Shokunin
Humor me while I try something different. Instead of crafting paragraphs, each focusing on a particular trait, I want to paint a picture with words that will hopefully help to reveal the “shokunin kishitsu” - the essence of the craftsman spirit. Here we go…
The shokunin crosses the threshold of his 15x15 foot workshop, the sun still low on the horizon and the air cool and dense with morning fog. He’s eager to get to work but not anxious. He is greeted by a picture on the wall of his late teacher, hung just above eye level. He turns towards it and takes a brief moment of silent remembrance and honor.
The picture reminds the shokunin of his days as an apprentice, before this workshop was his own. Many years have passed and he has since grown immensely in skill, knowledge, and character. Although the workshop has not changed – the floorboards still creak in the cool weather, the tools all reside in the same places, the sun still raking gently across the workbench in the afternoon light - he sees it differently. On this long and winding road to self-mastery, he has infused meaning and significance into every object and every surface. To others, it’s a modest but tidy space. To him, it’s a haven adorned with memories and personal progress.
Like any apprentice, he came from humble beginnings. Comfort as an apprentice was deemed unnecessary, both physical and mental. It was observation before participation, endless repetition without praise.
He had to be humble – it was a pre-requisite to instruction. He doesn’t take for granted the opportunity he was given or the dedication of his teacher who showed him the way.
The condition of his workspace instantly reflects the quality of his craftsmanship; there is no need to see his completed work. It can be felt in the order and meticulousness of the space.
The daily ritual of preparing for work begins. It is the same every day - no deviation. Thousands of repetitions but never executed mindlessly. The donning of his work apron, a worn leather canvas revealing decades of hard work, painted with glue and dried iron slurry. He prepares his tools for work, honing his chisels and plane irons to a mirror finish, on waterstones handed down to him from his teacher. To the shokunin, this is not simply maintenance, it’s a practice for meditation and reverence. The condition of his tools not only affects the quality of his work but his internal discipline.
His movements are quick as if he was rushing to get to work, but he’s not. He moves at the right pace, a speed that can only be executed by a perfect marriage of skill and efficiency. He knows the greatest hindrance to his contribution as a craftsman is to be a slow worker.
He begins his work. Once locked in, nothing can pull him out of focus. He needs no music, no headphones – that would only dampen his senses and impact the work. He works quickly and methodically. It’s a beautiful dance. He wields his tools, not as objects to be manipulated but as extensions of his hands. Each stroke of a plane performed with control, but with the full commitment of his body, for he knows that each cut, each shaving, is permanent.
He slows down for brief moments to tune into subtle features of the material so that it may inform his methods. He knows the wood. Its weight, density, straight or winding grain, moisture content. He works the wood in accordance with its natural characteristics, a skill only cultivated through years of practice and attunement. He knows any attempts to manipulate the wood against its nature are unwise and will produce work that ultimately self-destructs through the seasons. He is careful and considerate in how he uses the wood, ensuring the finished piece will honor the tree from which it came.
Upon completion of every step – hand jointing of a board, chiseling to the knife line of a mortise, paring the shoulders of a tenon, hand sawing dovetail pins, breaking edges with a block plane, piston fitting drawer boxes – he runs his hands softly across the workpiece, sending a silent but ever-present appreciation for what nature has offered.
The shokunin holds very high standards in his work. He is stubborn in that he allows no deviation from the right way. Joints that will never be seen are treated with the same rigor as ones that will. A small machinist’s square tucked in his apron pocket and always at the ready to validate proper execution. Like a person who does the right thing when nobody is looking, he possesses great integrity and imbues it into his work so that it may endure.
The work is hard and repetitive, but never appears to be a chore to him. He finishes his work for the day, cleans up his workshop and organizes his tools prior to departing. A light coating of sweat and dust overlays his skin. His muscles are tired but his mind is calm. Every day in the workshop is an opportunity to perfect his character. The work works on him just as much as he works on it, a mutual benefit for which he is grateful.
He goes home but is eager to return to work the next day, as he is motivated by more than superficial external measures. He cares little about recognition or fame, but he cares greatly about his moral responsibility to contribute to his community. The way he can best accomplish this is by setting and maintaining the highest personal standards. The recipient of his work deserves quality. They may not notice subtle imperfections that the shokunin does, and that is as it should be. The shokunin is pulled by the obligation to his fellow man, and he can only achieve that by improving his craft every day so that others may benefit from it.
Next to his teacher’s picture on the wall is a kakemono, a hanged scroll, with “kodawari” written in kanji. Kodawari embodies the pursuit of perfection, meticulous attention to detail, and a personal commitment to excellence. He holds kodawari close. It’s carved in memory from the words of his teacher; it’s ingrained in his nervous system, guiding every scribed knife line and chisel pare. He will pass these lessons down when the time comes.