[2025.06.09] Yuzuru Hanyu –“The Discovery of the 2-6-2 Rule” (Bungeishunju Plus)

[Wintek]

Yuzuru Hanyu – “The Discovery of the 2-6-2 Rule”
Written by: Yuzuru Hanyu, Professional Skater
2025/06/09
Media: Bungeishunju Plus, Monthly Magazine

 

Source: https://bunshun.jp/bungeishunju/articles/h10052 (paid article)
More information: @YUZURUOfficial_ 
"If you'd like, please take a look, even just part of it! I hope it can become even a tiny hint for anyone feeling suffocated!"

 

[Wintek]

*Machine translation, Japanese to English, inaccuracies exist*
Paid Article ^[1]

Yuzuru Hanyu – “The Discovery of the 2-6-2 Rule”^[2]

Yuzuru Hanyu, Professional Skater
2025/06/09

We now live in an era where both the information we seek and the information we don’t seek are easily visible. The internet has rapidly spread, and social media has made it so that anyone can share information. On the other hand, fake news overflows, and during disasters, misinformation spreads. Precisely because we can easily “connect,^[3]” I think the world has become one where it’s hard to know what to trust.

 

Spoiler

When we feel “I don’t want to connect,” the root of the problem might not be the act of “connecting” itself, but “connecting too much.” Perhaps more and more people feel anxious, being swayed by information and others’ evaluations, and end up losing sight of themselves. That’s not a theme I’m unrelated to, either.

 

This summer marks three full years since I became a professional skater. I truly feel that I’m taking on challenges in a world completely different from before. The 18 years I spent as a competitor were, in a sense, years of being elated or dejected by scores. The “quality” of a performance was determined by numerical scores that reflected technical elements like jumps and spins. But on the stage I stand on now, the judgment of good or bad is left to the values of the people watching. The “freedom” of not being bound by rules or scores further stirs my creative drive—but it also comes with fear. The content of evaluations has shifted from scores to people’s words and feelings, and I’ve come to ask myself more and more: “Am I really delivering something good?” “Am I meeting expectations?”

 

One of the principles I arrived at through facing this anxiety is something called the “2-6-2 Rule.” Simply put, if you think of the people around you as ten parts, two of them [20%] will be people who understand and trust you deeply, six will be people who feel moderately positive toward you [60%] , and the remaining two will be people who don’t understand you at all [20%] . That’s how the distribution tends to go. It’s a rule I hold dear in my heart.

From that perspective, my role becomes first to earn the trust of that two-tenths, and to deliver good performances to the six-tenths as well. Of course, if I let myself wish, I’d want to reach the remaining two-tenths, too. But even if it doesn’t reach them, by continuing to create something that I can be proud of—something that reaches eight-tenths—I’ve found that I can maintain my confidence.

 

Similarly, when it comes to public opinion or slander on social media, if you’re properly doing the work of “knowing yourself,” and if you’re clear about what you want to do, then those things shouldn’t bother you that much. In this world where waves come and go in an instant, there’s no need to be shaken or to waver along with them.^[4] If I have time to waver, I’ll use it instead to keep striving to create performances that can stir the hearts of those watching—that’s what I’ve resolved in my heart.

 

Come to think of it, the means of “knowing yourself” aren’t necessarily lying around within your daily life. “The self” probably isn’t something you can find by shouldering everything alone and agonizing over it. In my case, I find myself when I immerse in music, dive into the world of a work, or encounter scenes in nature. Just as we can only see our own form through a mirror, I think we can only truly know our essence when it’s reflected through the mirror that is another person.^[5]

 

Once I’m connected to the world, have come to know myself, and can grasp what it is I want to express—then, when it comes time to think about a story or choreography, I deliberately cut off those connections and throw myself into the work. But as a performer, it’s meaningless if the work doesn’t reach people. So I keep checking, through repeated dialogue with my team, whether what we’ve created is truly something that communicates.

 

There’s No Such Thing as a Special Person

 

If many people today feel inside that they “don’t want to connect,” I feel that one of the reasons might be that people shown in the media seem to shine too much. But as someone who’s been featured in the media, what I think is this: there really is no such thing as a “special person.” I’m honestly just an ordinary person—I like games, and there are days when I spend all my time just watching gameplay videos. But what’s always shown are just the highlights of my life.

 

The origin of my work as a performer lies in the Great East Japan Earthquake. When I visited disaster-stricken areas, what I was taught by the people there was this: behind the “thousands” or “tens of thousands” of lives reported in the news, each and every “1” carries the full weight of a life. Each person has their own story, and every life is equally precious. Even if something isn’t reported on, things like “winning two Olympic golds” or “attempting a quadruple Axel” truly exist in each person’s life.

 

Lately, I’ve started to feel that the figure known as “Yuzuru Hanyu” is also a medium that reflects the thoughts and feelings of those who support me. I don’t think humans can live without connecting to others. If that’s the case, rather than reject connection, I want to cherish the version of myself I come to see through the connections I’ve made. And ultimately, I believe that will lead to not “over-connecting,” either.

 

NOTES:

[1] This is the monthly magazine Bungeishunjū, not the weekly Shukan Bunshun. Bungeishunjū is one of Japan’s most prestigious monthly magazines, founded in 1923 by writer Kan Kikuchi. It has a circulation of approximately 500,000–600,000 copies (as of recent estimates), making it an influential platform for intellectual and cultural discourse. Its readership includes politicians, business leaders, academics, and cultural figures, reflecting its status as a "serious" magazine for the educated elite. The magazine covers politics, economics, society, and culture, often featuring essays by prominent figures (e.g., former Prime Ministers, Nobel laureates, artists). It is known for its highbrow commentary, investigative journalism, and literary contributions (e.g., serialized novels by authors like Haruki Murakami). In terms of editorial line and readership, Bungeishunjū is like Harvard Review. The magazine doesn’t have Open Submissions, contributors are usually invited. Other people who have published there include Film director Hayao Miyazaki, musician Ryuichi Sakamoto.

 

[2] Initially, the "2-6-2 Rule" is a concept that describes how people generally react to new information or changes in an organization, often seen as a bell-shaped curve. It suggests that 20% of people will be eager to learn, 60% will be fence-sitters, and the remaining 20% will be resistant. This rule has been used as a framework by educators, managers, or anyone implementing new ideas or processes. Interesting how Yuzuru turns this somehow statistical approach into an emotional coping tool (very Yuzu to fuse rationality and feeling).

 

[3] Yuzuru uses “つながる” (and related words) to talk about connections. Interestingly, he chooses to use the hiragana version instead of the kanji (繋がる). Writing in hiragana gives a softer, more emotional or reflective nuance. In the article, Yuzuru is discussing emotional closeness, vulnerability, and human relationships. In a way, we could interpret that the use of hiragana makes these ideas feel warmer and more personal/approachable.

 

[4] 「波があっという間に来て、あっという間に去っていくこの世界では、その波にブレる必要も揺らぐ必要もない。」
波 (nami): Yuzuru uses “waves” to describe the information environment — sudden, overwhelming, transient.

「ブレる必要も揺らぐ必要もない」: “No need to be shaken. No need to waver.” The repetition of similar verbs creates a quiet rhythm, suggesting calm in the face of external turbulence. Interesting choice in the context of Bunshung, as it’s the type of media that create those waves. For interpretation purpose, it seems as if Yuzuru were saying “Let them come. Let them go. I’m anchored (I know myself).”

 

[5] 「自分の本質も、他者という鏡に映して初めて知ることができる」Reference to “mirror,” (鏡, kagami) which he has use many times before (him as a mirror, giving a role to those who see themselves reflected on him). Interesting that he is also including this in this article published in a magazine that once distorted his image. It’s like a soft call to see one another clearly.

 

[Babylabenny]

oooohhhhh but thank you so much for this wonderful sharing, really very happy 

[Koncechia]

Once again I bow in front of my King. His wisdom swept away my rage in defense of Him and made me increasingly proud of Him. We want to protect Him, but once again He protects us. Such a MAN.

[Jolanda]

Thanks 🙏 for sharing this article!

I love Yuzuru the writer