Kaizen (改善) always reminds me of a dear friend who introduced me to this phrase many years ago. A friend I spent time with back when we were still single—meeting often for tea or an occasional drink, and endlessly sharing anything new we learned. The word also carries a quiet sadness because of his untimely passing, but the idea itself lives on.
One afternoon, he arrived unusually animated. A consultant had visited his office, he said, and they had been introduced to a concept called Kaizen. The word was new to me, and my curiosity was immediately stirred.
He wasn’t a great storyteller, but he could recount the examples he had learned during the training—almost word for word.
What he explained was simple:
We print documents, walk to the printer to collect them, and then move again to find a stapler. If the stapler were placed next to the printer, a few seconds would be saved each time. Those seconds, multiplied across people and days, quietly added up.
It was a very simple, incremental improvement to the process—yet one with a deep and lasting impact.
Kaizen, broken down simply, comes from two words: Kai (change) and Zen (good). Together, they point to continuous improvement—not through dramatic transformations, but through small, thoughtful changes that are easy to sustain.
It asks us to resist the temptation of grand resolutions and instead focus on modest, repeatable steps.
Want to get fit?
Start with five minutes of stretching.
Trying to learn a new skill?
Ten minutes every day works better than two hours once a week—and then stopping.
Progress doesn’t need perfection, because perfection often prevents anything from getting done at all.
What Kaizen taught me, long before I realized it, is that improvement doesn’t have to be loud. It can be quiet, almost invisible, unfolding gently in the background of daily life.
And perhaps that is its greatest strength.
