The University of Tokyo’s first female president, then the backlash

The University of Tokyo, one of Japan’s most prestigious universities, is under pressure to rebuild public trust and change how it governs itself after a series of scandals.

An associate professor at the University of Tokyo Hospital was arrested on suspicion of bribery in November 2025. A medical professor was arrested on suspicion of bribery in a separate case in January 2026. The university’s subsequent internal investigation also identified multiple violations of its ethics rules. In his January apology, President Teruo Fujii referred to “repeated arrests of faculty members” and acknowledged weaknesses in financial oversight and the university’s organizational culture.

It was against this backdrop that the University of Tokyo selected Prof. Yuko Fujigaki as its next president — the first woman to lead the institution as it approaches its 150th anniversary in 2027. As The Japan Times reported, candidates’ plans for governance reform were an important factor in the selection.

The online criticism began the same evening the selection was announced. By the following day, politicians and members of the University of Tokyo’s own faculty were publicly questioning the decision. Some challenged how the internal vote had been weighed. Others suggested preferential treatment for women, invoking a “women’s quota.”

Questioning the selection process is one thing. Treating gender as the explanation is another. At a university facing demands for reform, the debate should examine the work ahead and the qualities needed to lead it.

University of Tokyo faculty member Yoichi Ochiai, who participated in the poll, asked on X: “What was the point of making time to vote?” He also offered congratulations.

Former lawmaker Shiori Yamao said the university’s vague explanation made the selection look like “preferential treatment for women,” warning of a “quota president.” She called for a more specific explanation and expressed concern that women selected on merit would also be labeled quota appointments.

In the internal opinion vote, Takao Someya received 1,107 votes, or 51% of ballots cast, while Fujigaki received 553. But that was not the final decision. After roughly eight hours of deliberation, the 16-member selection committee chose Fujigaki. At a news conference the following day, committee chair Hiroko Kuniya said the final decision had been supported by “a large majority.”

The internal vote matters, but it is not a binding election in which the top vote-getter automatically becomes president. The selection committee weighs it alongside interviews, candidates’ statements and other criteria before making its decision. A committee majority, in turn, does not explain the choice by itself. The reasons behind that judgment matter too.

The University of Tokyo is not the first national university to select a president who did not finish first in the internal opinion poll.

In 2025, Niigata University selected Toshiyuki Someya after he received 420 votes against the leading candidate’s 882 — a ratio of 2.1 to 1. Kyoto University this year selected Yasuto Tachikawa, who placed third with 299 votes against the leader’s 478, about 1.6 to 1. Kyoto’s committee chose him unanimously, citing his capacity to implement institutional reform.

But in both cases, the selected candidates were men. Kyoto’s decision also drew internal criticism. These precedents do not settle whether any particular selection was justified, but they show that a large gap in an internal poll does not, by itself, establish a gender-based appointment.

The role of these internal polls has long been contested, too. Some national universities have abolished them; the University of Tokyo retains its poll as one part of selection. The question is how that input is used and how the decision is explained.

On Sept. 29, Education Minister Yoshihiro Seki said the committee needed to explain to the university community “why it made that decision.” He emphasized accountability for both the reasons and the process.

We can ask for a fuller explanation without assuming that gender supplies the answer.

The committee’s published explanation linked Fujigaki’s science communication experience to restoring trust in academia. At a news conference, Kuniya said gender had not been discussed during the selection. Candidates’ plans for governance reform were “a big factor” in the decision.

Fujigaki’s field is science and technology studies: how science and technology interact with society. As an executive vice president, she held responsibility for research ethics and institutional evaluation. At a university confronting failures of trust, that experience deserves attention.

Half of the University of Tokyo’s selection committee comes from outside the university. External perspectives are valuable not because outsiders necessarily know better, but because they can question assumptions an institution takes for granted. Internal support still matters: Reform must be carried out by the people who work there.

But support within a university and trust beyond its walls are not the same thing. Its president must work to earn both.

These responsibilities have practical consequences. The University of Tokyo remains under review for Japan’s Universities for International Research Excellence program, while Tohoku University, my alma mater, was the first to be designated, followed by the Institute of Science Tokyo and Kyoto University. The education ministry is seeking clearer resource allocation, internal agreement and shared responsibility between the University of Tokyo’s central leadership and its schools. Reform requires a university to act together, not simply a leader to issue instructions.

In July, I gave a keynote address at the 43rd Amagi Presidents’ Conference, hosted by IBM Japan. This long-running forum brings national, public and private university presidents together in person, rather than through their representatives, for candid discussions about the challenges facing higher education and the future of universities.

This year’s theme concerned the future of an AI-driven society. Our discussions were not simply about introducing generative AI into classrooms or research. Amid rapid technological change and demographic decline, what should a university education offer? What kinds of people should universities help students become?

In my keynote, I explored the co-creation of science, technology and society, including the tensions that can arise when scientific and technological ambitions meet different values, interests and expectations. I argued that navigating those tensions requires more than technical expertise. It requires ethics, dialogue, collaboration, and above all, the patient work of building trust.

In an age when AI is making knowledge more accessible than ever, students can increasingly learn on their own with tools that explain, translate, synthesize and generate. That makes the social and ethical role of universities more important, not less.

Universities bring people into contact with different disciplines, perspectives and lived experiences. They give students opportunities to debate, collaborate and co-create and to wrestle with questions not simply of what we can do, but what we should do. These are the capabilities students will need to navigate an increasingly complex world, tackle social challenges and contribute meaningfully to society.

One university president used a Japanese word that stayed with me: “shuraba,” difficult, sometimes messy situations in which students must struggle, negotiate, collaborate, make mistakes and grow.

Those experiences cannot be outsourced to AI.

In an era of misinformation, social fragmentation and rapid technological change, universities must cultivate more than knowledge. They must help students develop judgment, ethical responsibility and the ability to work with people whose worldviews differ from their own and to build trust across those differences.

University leaders face the same challenge.

This is the connection I see to Fujigaki’s work. At her news conference, she said she wanted to bring what she had learned about science communication to university governance.

The reaction to her appointment also sits within a broader national context. Japan ranked 117th among 145 countries in the World Economic Forum’s 2026 Global Gender Gap Index.

The Amagi gathering made that broader disparity tangible to me. Seven of the 41 presidents on the participant list were women, about 17%. Across national universities, a May 2025 survey by the Japan Association of National Universities found that women accounted for 20.7% of faculty, but just four of 85 presidents — 4.7%. Participation in academia and representation at its top are different things.

The questions we discussed at Amagi — what universities should offer, how knowledge should serve society and how people learn to take responsibility — are not separate from the work of leading a university. They are part of it.

That is the conversation Fujigaki’s appointment should open up rather than close down with an assumption about her gender. In Japan, it may be time to change not only our universities but also the assumptions we bring to those who lead them.