‘Metal Gear Solid’ Creator Hideo Kojima Almost Dedicated His Life To Medical Manufacturing – Until He “Blurted Out” His Real Feelings To HR
Throughout the course of life, every individual will find themselves living through a number of personal ‘nexus points’ wherein one’s personal decisions stand to change the course of their very lives – and in the case of Hideo Kojima, a fumbled job interview was the make or break moment between a life in the medical manufacturing industry and one dedicated to creating video games like Snatcher, Metal Gear Solid, and Death Stranding
The Kojima Productions founder provided this glimpse into ‘the world that nearly was’ via the most recent edition of his Hideo Kojima’s I Really Love [xxxx] column, as regularly written exclusively for the Japanese women’s lifestyle magazine An An and wherein the Policenauts creator, as machine translated by DeepL, “takes something his right brain loves and explores it through the lens of his left brain, diving deeper into it from the perspective of everyday life while looking toward the future.”
This time around offering his thoughts on the topic of “Dishonest Job Hunting and Honest Interviews”, Kojima reflected on his early attempts to enter Japan’s job market, and how the ‘dishonesty’ of his intent in applying for jobs eventually came to a head during an ‘honest’ interview:
“My job hunt took place in 1985, when an unwritten rule called the “Employment Agreement’ (Rules governing student job hunting established between universities and companies starting in 1953; Created to prevent practices like ‘early recruitment,’ it gradually became a dead letter and was abolished in 1996) still existed between companies (business associations) and schools.
“It wasn’t the ’employment ice age’ yet (a period from around 1993 to 2004 when the economic downturn made finding employment extremely difficult), but since it was before the bubble economy (a colloquial term for the economic boom from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, triggered by the Plaza Accord; It ended around 1990 as a result of various economic and social problems.), it wasn’t exactly a seller’s market either.
“For me—a humanities graduate from a second-tier private university, not part of any athletic club, no overseas study experience, and no connections whatsoever—the job hunt was a pretty disadvantageous situation. Originally drawn to painting and sculpture, I had hoped to attend an art university. However, my father’s sudden death forced me to abandon that path. I ended up easily slipping into the economics department of a certain private university, chosen simply because it was supposedly ‘good for employment.’
“The research lab I joined was also selected for the same reason. Nearly all the seminar students aimed to become bankers or securities traders. Amidst this, I desperately craved creative work. Still, I couldn’t afford to take a gap year for job hunting or pursue graduate school. Reluctantly, I began job hunting while lying to myself.
“Figuring I needed to get used to the process, I started with companies that began recruiting early. I didn’t need to buy a new ‘recruit suit’. Having worked part-time filming weddings for four years, I was already familiar with suits, ties, and formal attire. Since my parents were in the pharmaceutical industry, I applied to manufacturing companies, including those in the medical field. At major listed companies and foreign firms, I was rejected at the document screening stage (based on my university name) alone. Even when I finally made it through group interviews with a few others, my competitors were all athletic club captains with imposing physiques. Telling interviewers, ‘I used to write novels,’ only earned me snickers.
“My job hunt involved endless phone calls, mailings, and wandering until the soles of my shoes wore thin—truly like a Showa-era detective chasing a murder case. At popular companies, you couldn’t advance to the next stage unless they remembered your name at the company briefing. There, you had to deliberately ask eccentric questions to grab attention. Everyone hid themselves, adapting to the company like chameleons. Those days of pretense felt worlds away from the job hunt I’d envisioned while chasing my dreams. Then, an offer letter arrived from a medical device manufacturer.”
And it was during this job interview, Kojima then revealed, that he found himself staring down a personal nexus point:
“During the interview for that offer, I blurted out all the pent-up feelings I’d been holding back to the HR manager. To my surprise, he encouraged me, saying, ‘Kojima-kun, I think you’re better suited for creative work. Go for it in that field.’
“From then on, I focused my job hunting on the gaming and toy industries. Since I wanted a job creating dreams, specifically in planning, I brought a different proposal to each company I visited. There was no need to lie anymore. I sincerely shared what I’d done—writing novels, my track record in creating things—and showed them my portfolio and idea notebooks.
“One day, a major game company paid for my bullet train fare and invited me to their Tokyo headquarters. There, they said, “We want to offer you a position. Please decline other offers.” But moving to Tokyo would leave my mother living alone. So, I hoped to work in Kansai. That’s when I set my sights on Konami, headquartered in Kobe. It was their first-ever hiring for a planning position since founding, so unlike my fellow new graduates, I alone went through over five interviews. Before the final interview, during a practical test, they told me, “We don’t have a standard test for planning positions,” and suddenly made me take a drawing test.
“There was another major company in Kansai. A long-established toy company in Kyoto that everyone knew. I had attended their company information session and submitted my application. Then, a call came from Kyoto. It was summer. “Mr. Kojima, please come take the exam!” Immediately after the call from Kyoto ended, the HR manager from Konami also called. “I understand you consider us your top choice, Mr. Kojima. Are you applying anywhere else?” I honestly mentioned the Kyoto company. Then came the suggestive reply: “If you decline the others, we can offer you a position immediately.’
“That’s when I chose Konami. One reason was that Konami was the only company in the industry listed on the stock exchange at the time. At the local fireworks festival in late August, I told her—whom I hadn’t seen in a while—that I’d secured a job. She seemed relieved, her eyes glistening as she gazed up at the fireworks. Seeing those tears, my job hunt ended.
Looking back on this moment, Kojima ultimately reflected, “Since my second year as a working adult, I’ve always sat on the interviewing side. I’m the one hearing students’ lies. Yet, those conducting interviews also tell lies. Not as individuals, but as representatives of their companies. It’s a place where lies meet lies—that’s the interview.
“But I don’t lie. Not because I represent the company. I face students honestly. I even give advice to those who aren’t suited for the role. Just like that HR director whose name I no longer remember, who changed my life.”
