Tanden and the Forgotten Center of Japanese Thought and Strength
The Lost Core of Japanese Wisdom and Physical Strength
In this article, I will reinterpret tanden (丹田), a concept that has been of great importance to the Japanese for centuries, through a modern perspective.
In recent years, the field of health sciences has increasingly emphasized the importance of the gut, recognizing it as equally significant as the brain.
For instance, the human gut contains approximately 100 million neurons, a number comparable to that of the brain. Furthermore, what makes this system particularly intriguing is that it can function independently of the brain—it does not require direct instructions from it to operate. This challenges the long-held assumption that the brain is the sole command center of the body.
Additionally, the human gut houses an estimated 100 trillion bacteria, with a total weight of about 1.5 kilograms (approximately the same as the brain). As research into the gut-brain axis continues to advance, the reciprocal influence between gut health and mental well-being is becoming widely acknowledged.
From my perspective, this represents a major shift in Western medicine—one that is moving away from its traditional brain-centric paradigm and beginning to recognize the gut as an independent and influential entity. This shift in perspective may not remain confined to medicine alone; it could eventually extend to philosophy and even reshape the foundations of Western thought.
At this pivotal moment, I propose revisiting a concept deeply embedded in Japanese tradition: tanden. While tanden has gained limited recognition in the West through Japanese martial arts and meditation practices, Western medicine has largely ignored it. This is because tanden does not exist as a physical organ within the body. Instead, it is regarded as an energetic center located in the lower abdomen, where ki (気)—or life energy—is believed to gather.
In the past, all Japanese people wore traditional kimono and tied them with an obi (帯), a wide sash wrapped around the waist. Interestingly, the position where the obi was tightened corresponds to the location of the tanden. By wearing and adjusting the obi in their daily lives, people naturally engaged their tanden, reinforcing its strength without conscious effort.
One of the most vital aspects of human health is breathing. In the era of the kimono, the presence of the obi naturally directed the body’s focus toward abdominal breathing. As a result, our ancestors instinctively developed a breathing technique centered around the tanden. This method, still known today as tanden breathing (丹田呼吸), remains a fundamental aspect of Japanese wellness practices.
Another crucial element in traditional Japanese life was seiza (正座), the formal way of sitting on the floor. Following the Meiji era (1868–1912), as Western-style chairs and furniture became widespread, the practice of sitting in seiza nearly vanished. However, in earlier times, people regularly sat and stood from seiza, and this movement naturally trained the tanden throughout their daily routines.
If we look at pre-modern Japan—before the country underwent Westernization during the Meiji period—we find frequent references to tanden in historical texts, though it was often written simply as hara (腹, “belly”).
The Japanese did not always make decisions using their “brain” in a purely logical manner; rather, they relied on their hara—their tanden—as a deeper, intuitive decision-making center. This concept remains embedded in the modern Japanese language, as seen in expressions like ““decide with the belly” (腹で決める), which signifies making decisions based on instinct or gut feeling.
I see the Meiji era as a turning point where the Japanese way of thinking underwent a radical transformation. Interestingly, just as Western medicine is now beginning to recognize the gut’s significance, I believe it is gradually moving closer to concepts that have been present in Japanese tradition for centuries.
However, since tanden is not a material structure, it is unlikely to be formally accepted in academic or scientific fields.
On this Substack, I explore various aspects of Japanese history, culture, and philosophy. Among these, two intellectual movements particularly emphasize tanden:
Zen Buddhism, which flourished in connection with the rise of the samurai class.
Kokugaku (国学, “National Learning”), a scholarly movement that emerged in the late Edo period (1603–1868).
When we examine Kokugaku scholars’ writings, a key theme becomes evident: they strongly criticized the excessive reliance on logic and reason that characterized Confucianism, which had been imported from China.
While Kokugaku sought to rediscover the authentic Japanese spirit that predated the influence of Confucian and Buddhist thought, their underlying critique was a deep-seated discomfort with the overemphasis on the brain in decision-making.
Kokugaku scholars also rejected Chinese characters (kanji) because they believed that written language was an invention of the brain. Instead, they revered Japan’s ancient oral traditions, particularly the poetry of the Man’yōshū (万葉集, “Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves”), the oldest anthology of Japanese poetry.
Their goal was not merely linguistic or literary; they sought to restore the Japanese way of perceiving the world through the tanden rather than through the intellect alone.
Zen Buddhism followed a similar trajectory. Prominent Zen masters such as Hakuin Ekaku (白隠, 1686–1769) and Dōgen (道元, 1200–1253), as well as the renowned Zen scholar D.T. Suzuki (鈴木大拙, 1870–1966), all emphasized a rejection of over-intellectualization.
Among them, Hakuin is particularly notable as a pioneer of traditional Japanese health practices. During a period of personal illness, he sought the wisdom of Hakuyūshi (白幽子), a sage said to have lived for over 200 years. Under Hakuyūshi’s guidance, Hakuin regained his health and went on to develop his own system of tanden breathing.
Hakuin later compiled his knowledge in the text ‘Yasen Kanna’ (夜船閑話, “Night Boat Dialogues”), where he describes tanden breathing techniques that anyone can use to cultivate health and longevity.
I intend to continue exploring these themes, but one thing is clear: whether in Zen, wabi-sabi, or other aspects of Japanese culture, the key to understanding Japan lies not in the brain, but in the tanden—the lower abdomen, the very center from which Japanese people once thought, felt, and made decisions.
To summarize, I believe that the Western phrase “the gut is the second brain” is somewhat misleading. Rather than merely viewing the gut as an extension of the brain, we should recognize that the gut—tanden—has always had a unique and essential role in human existence.
Today, the Japanese have largely abandoned practices that once strengthened the tanden. They no longer wear kimono in daily life, rarely practice seiza, and have lost the embodied connection to this vital core. If the true strength of the Japanese once resided in their tanden, then the rapid erosion of Japanese cultural identity may be directly related to its neglect.
Ultimately, the question remains: Can the Japanese once again turn their attention to tanden? Can they rediscover the balance between brain and gut? Now, 160 years after Japan’s Westernization, I believe we are approaching a crucial turning point.