Is the Salaryman Producer Mindset Killing Anime Creativity? (Taro Maki’s Warning)

Anime’s growth is hard to ignore. Films keep breaking cinema records, around 300 to 400 shows get produced every year, and the market hit $21 billion in 2023. From the outside, it looks like a success story that just keeps going.

But producer Tarô Maki sees a problem forming inside that success. In comments shared ahead of a film festival he’s involved with, he argues that a “salaryman” mindset is creeping into production, pushing the industry towards safe bets, proven genres, and fear of failure. When the people deciding what gets made are focused on not messing up, it gets harder for anything bold to survive.

If you want the full context, the video breakdown from Otaku Spirit is here: Killing Anime with Salaryman Producer Mindset (video).

 

The anime boom looks healthy, but the business model can’t relax

In Maki’s view, anime can look strong “at a macro level”, but still be shaky when you look at how money moves through production.

He points out a basic reality: film and TV animation take a lot of cash up front, and recovering that investment is extremely difficult. That pressure changes behaviour. It rewards projects that feel predictable, and it punishes experiments.

Why anime carries a different kind of risk than manga or novels

Maki’s comparison is simple, and it explains a lot:

 

A novel can exist on passion and a small audience. Manga can often do the same, since the costs are smaller. But anime has payroll, scheduling, outsourcing, and a long chain of staff who all need to be paid.

That’s why “anime is an ad for the source material” keeps coming up. It can be true because the source is cheap to produce compared to an anime season, and the downside risk is different.

When everyone rushes in, “more” becomes the problem

Maki’s warning also hits a timing issue. As more companies see big market numbers, they want a piece of the action. That leads to more shows getting made, often spread thin, and sometimes built on “thin content” just to fill a slot.

The danger is not that anime is popular. The danger is that the model starts to depend on constant output, even when the odds of earning the money back don’t improve. That’s when you see studios pop up, then disappear.

The “salaryman producer mindset” and why it pushes out new ideas

Maki says one major reason Japan “doesn’t have enough producers” is what he calls the salaryman mentality. The idea isn’t about job titles, it’s about decision-making.

“Adding points” vs “deducting points”

His framing is memorable:

• Adding points: taking a risk to create a win.
• Deducting points: avoiding anything that might cause a loss.

In his view, many employee producers are trained to think in deductions. Don’t fail. Don’t stick out. Don’t back a project that might bomb. In that environment, “safe” becomes the only real goal.

The result is predictable: the industry drifts towards the genres that already proved they can sell.

Why some genres flood every season

When producers chase what’s already working, you get a seasonal echo chamber. The transcript calls out the kinds of trends fans will recognise instantly:

• Isekai and other escapist set-ups
• Fantasy that follows familiar templates
• “Kicked from the hero party” stories
• Revenge-driven power fantasies

Nothing here is “bad” on its own. The issue is volume. If the top of the rankings always rewards the same patterns, and producers only want to avoid deductions, then the safest answer becomes “make more of what already charted”.

And that’s where creativity gets squeezed. A producer becomes someone who looks at what’s popular, presses the adaptation button, and ships it, rather than someone who builds a new vision and fights for it.

(If you enjoy seeing how roles and archetypes repeat across popular series, this is a handy read: Guide to anime character types and roles.)

What we’ve lost: places where strange, challenging anime used to breathe

Maki also talks about culture, not just business. He says you can’t predict audiences perfectly, and that even difficult or challenging works help “cultivate the audience”.

That matters because, as he describes it, those spaces have been fading.

Mini-theatres, OVAs, and the old pipeline for experimentation

The transcript points to an older viewing culture where people would regularly watch more complex films in smaller theatres. It also brings up the 1990s OVA era, where studios would animate “crazy cool concepts” and sell them straight to video.

That environment created room to try things. It wasn’t just “will this top the charts this week?”, it was also “can this idea find its people over time?”

Streaming makes access easier, but it can bury originals

The shift to streaming and network pipelines changes what gets seen. When everything arrives in the same feed, crowded by hype and sequels, original work can get washed out fast.

The transcript gives one personal example: Apocalypse Hotel, described as an original project doing highly creative work, but drowned out by big adaptations in the same season. Whether or not you loved that particular title, the pattern is familiar, original shows often have to scream to be noticed.

Tarô Maki’s answer: a film festival that acts like a producer should

Maki isn’t only criticising. He’s putting effort into a practical counterweight: a film festival built to gather creators (including international guests), showcase work, and encourage risk.

He’s clear about one thing: running a festival isn’t his main job. Producing is. But he treats the festival as part of what producing should mean, creating spaces where creators can take chances.

For more on his thinking around festivals and discovery, this separate interview is a useful companion: “Film festivals are about meetings and discoveries” (Full Frontal interview).

“Even Miyazaki didn’t have his big hit with his very first feature”

One of Maki’s strongest points is about time.

He uses Hayao Miyazaki as a reminder that careers build. Big names weren’t always safe bets. If producers only fund “guaranteed hits,” then the next generation never gets the runway to develop into the next Miyazaki, or the next breakout director with a distinct voice.

He gives a concrete example from his own producing history: In This Corner of the World. It was director Sunao Katabuchi’s third film, and his earlier works weren’t hits. Maki argues that opportunities still have to exist in cases like that.

Safe franchises will always exist, but they can’t be everything

When the interviewer mentions reliably successful works (the transcript references Detective Conan and Demon Slayer as examples), Maki doesn’t deny the value of hits. He just doesn’t want them to become the only path.

His own career choices reflect that preference for challenge. The transcript lists major works he’s been involved with, including:

• Patlabor
• Millennium Actress
• Tokyo Godfathers
• In This Corner of the World
• Pluto
• Works connected to Satoshi Kon

That list is a reminder that “challenging” doesn’t mean niche for the sake of it. It can mean backing creators with a clear point of view.

The 90% adaptation problem, and Maki’s proposed balance

Maki claims that nearly 90% of the industry is built around adapting already successful manga or novels, tied into a publisher-driven model. In his view, that leaves little room for new animation creators to grow.

His proposed target is blunt and easy to picture:

• 70% stable and safe
• 30% devoted to new challenges

That ratio isn’t a rule, it’s a signpost. Without some protected space for risk, the pipeline for new voices dries up.

(If you want a recent, high-profile example of a manga becoming a multi-format powerhouse, Oshi No Ko Vol. 1 (English manga edition) is a clear case of a story that thrives across formats.)

Why animation shouldn’t just “adapt panels” or “adapt words”

A key point in the transcript is that manga, light novels, and animation are different tools. A great story can survive a medium shift, but the best adaptations use the strengths of the new format.

One simple example is inner dialogue. Light novels can live inside a character’s head for pages. Animation has to show thought through performance, timing, framing, and sound. Long internal monologues can feel awkward when they’re not shaped for screen pacing (the transcript mentions Higehiro as an example where this kind of approach can struggle).

The fear is stagnation: anime becoming a factory that reproduces what already exists, rather than a medium that creates moments you can only get through animation.

If you want a reminder of how wild and specific anime worlds can get when creators commit to the medium, this deep lore breakdown is a good one: Deep mysteries of Made in Abyss.

Bringing outside creators in, not only exporting anime out

The transcript also highlights something that doesn’t get discussed as often: Japan has become great at exporting anime globally, but Maki wants more importing too.

His festival approach includes bringing foreign films and creatives into the mix, so local creators can see different workflows, different storytelling habits, and different ways to solve production problems. It’s not about replacing anime’s identity, it’s about shaking loose new ideas when the current system trains people to avoid risk.

For broader reporting on Maki’s comments and the “shallower” concern, this article covers the core claims: AUTOMATON WEST report on Tarô Maki and risk-averse production.

Conclusion

Anime can be bigger than ever and still feel stuck, and Maki’s argument explains why. When producers are trained to avoid “deductions” at all costs, the safest genres multiply, originals struggle for air, and the industry starts to feel shallow even while it grows. The hopeful part is that he’s not only talking, he’s building spaces that reward creative risk and help new talent get a real shot. If the industry can keep hits while protecting room for experiments, it has a better chance of staying healthy.