Kentaro Ichihara

Not “what should we automate?” but “what should stay with people?” Nexa always starts its work from that question. Why would a technology company not start with technology? The answer lies in the three seats I have sat in.

Seat one: the floor

My first seven years were on Japanese manufacturing floors. At Panasonic I was responsible for battery production processes — controlling equipment and closing quality gaps with numbers. What was drilled into me there was to stand in front of the actual thing and check it, and to keep asking what the work is for. It was the start of fifteen years in which I was taught that a philosophy only counts when you practice it.

Seat two: systems

The next five years were at a joint plant with a North American EV maker in Nevada. The words I heard again and again there were, “Why don’t we just do it this way?” Regardless of title or seniority, people spoke up the moment they saw a better way and tried it first. They never stopped at looking at the numbers; they turned them into the next action. When something worked, they made it a system anyone could run and spread it. That spirit of challenge pushed me forward more times than I can count.

Still, I never thought the answer was to bring that approach to Japan as is. Employment and business practices are completely different. In my three years back in Japan, launching mass production of a new battery and a new North American plant, I came to appreciate the strengths of Japanese floors all over again: know-how that accumulates in people who stay for years, and a commitment to quality handed down through the team. Neither is better; they grew from different ground. So I combine them — keeping the know-how and human ties Japanese floors have grown, and adding what I learned in North America: try first, then turn it into a system and spread it.

Seat three: management

In 2025 I started a company in Kumamoto and took the third seat: management. In a one-person company there is never enough time. So I began by replacing work in my own company. Planning, development and sales now run on AI and systems, and what remains in my hands is judgment and time with customers. An owner’s time can be won back — I can say that because I proved it in my own company.

Deciding what stays with people is a call for the floor and for management alike. Having sat in all three seats is why I believe I can draw that line. What stays with people is judgment, relationships with customers, and the ingenuity of the floor — work that carries the joy of working. Everything else that repeats, we replace with systems, flow by flow. Combining the strengths of Japanese floors with what I learned in North America — that is what I mean by 自働化, automation with a human touch.

So first, let me work on your floor for half a day. I won’t bring a proposal deck. Your familiar tools stay; we keep the shop open and rebuild from behind. Everything we build, and all the data, stays with your company.

“Wait — you can do that?” That one line from a client drives me more than anything. I want every workplace in Kumamoto to have its own “I didn’t know we could do this.” That is why I keep doing this work.