About

My thinking rarely begins with technology itself — it begins with order. A decade of theological and pastoral training taught me, when facing chaos and change, to first ask myself: what kind of structure can let people continue to carry meaning, build trust, and live well?

Leaving the seminary, I entered the world of entrepreneurship. Not because I had abandoned my original convictions, but because I wanted to understand those questions of order, ethics, and human life anew, in the real world. After all, an idea that cannot be tested against reality easily remains trapped in hollow language.

From the formation of startup ecosystems, to the restructuring of food-agriculture supply chains, to sustainable architecture and spatial practice — over these years I came to understand, slowly, that changing a system is never simply a matter of introducing technology or updating a business model. The deeper key is often whether people can rebuild trust between one another, and whether anyone is willing to bear the responsibility and the risk of transformation.

Today my work spans industrial cooperation between Taiwan and Japan, and the data infrastructure of the circular economy. At the same time, artificial intelligence is rapidly becoming a new foundation of society, reshaping how we understand the world, how efficiently we act, and how we make decisions.

Technology in itself holds neither good nor evil, and carries no fixed intent. But when efficiency becomes the only language, the space in which people are meant to judge, to bear responsibility, and to choose is easily compressed. So what I care about is not only how fast technology can move, but how, in this age of acceleration, we can preserve dignity, judgment, and agency. For me, this is where technology becomes worth discussing.