On January 1, 2026, the man who once shouted "If there is a crisis in Taiwan, it is a crisis for Japan" remained silent in his study.

On January 4, 2026, Nakayama Yasuhide, former parliamentary secretary of Japan's Ministry of Defense, posted a long article on his personal blog with a somber title: "The First Drop of Cold Sweat in 2026: We Might Have Already Lost Before Seeing the Shadow of the Opponent."

This was not just a breakdown of a Japanese politician, but also a collective collapse of the old world order in front of the technological singularity.

I. Previously, we competed with steel, now we compete with computing power

Nakayama Yasuhide mentioned a detail in his article.

On December 31, 2025, the eve of the New Year, the Japanese Defense Agency's intelligence headquarters conducted a war game simulation. It was not the traditional map-based simulation where small flags were placed on maps, but a full AI confrontation.

The red team was the new AI command system of the People's Liberation Army, and the blue team was the digital defense line of the U.S.-Japan alliance.

What was the result?

0 to 108.

The U.S.-Japan alliance was completely wiped out in 17 minutes.

Nakayama said that when he saw the battle report on the screen, his hands were shaking. Not because the enemy's firepower was strong, but because the enemy "was not human."

In previous wars, reconnaissance planes would spot targets, then missiles would fly over, which involved a time difference and a human decision-making chain. But the simulation in 2026 showed that the opponent's AI system could simultaneously control tens of thousands of cheap drone swarms within milliseconds, automatically identify all radar blind spots of the U.S. and Japan, and even predict the takeoff trajectory of F-35s.

The most terrifying thing was that these drones didn't need human operation; they fought together, fixed bugs themselves, and evolved tactics on their own.

Nakayama wrote in his article: "We are still discussing whether to increase defense spending to 2% of GDP, and arguing about whether to deploy more Patriot missiles. But our opponent has changed the track, using AI to turn warfare into a 'match-3 puzzle' of algorithms."

This was the real reason for his breakdown: Your knife hasn't been sharpened yet, but your opponent has already built a Gatling gun, and this gun can load its own bullets and aim itself.

II. The logic of "Taiwan issue" has changed

Nakayama became famous for his obsession with the Taiwan Strait issue. His logic was simple: Japan's maritime lifeline passes through Taiwan, so Japan must protect Taiwan.

But in this reflection written on January 4, 2026, he first doubted this logic.

He mentioned what Musk said about the "year of singularity in 2026."

He realized that if AI truly exploded in 2026, the strategic balance of the Taiwan Strait would no longer depend on whether the U.S. Seventh Fleet would intervene, nor on how many Aegis ships Japan's Self-Defense Forces had.

What would it depend on? On "silicon hegemony."

A very painful sentence appeared in the article:

"Previously, we believed that as long as the U.S. Seventh Fleet was in the middle, it could form a deterrent. But now, if China's AI large model controls global shipping logic, financial market algorithms, and even our power grid, can we even launch a ship?"

This is what is often called a "dimensional strike." When you are still looking for new continents with the old map of geopolitics, you will find that the new continent has already sunk.

Nakayama painfully realized that Japan's proud precision manufacturing and electronics industry were like a child playing with blocks facing a professor of calculus in front of the "black technology" of AI self-evolution.

If 2026 is indeed the singularity, then the so-called "First Island Chain" may be just a piece of paper, easily broken, or even dissolved by itself in the digital age.

III. Japan's "Galapagos Dilemma"

Nakayama's reflection is actually Japan's national anxiety.

Everyone knows the "Galapagos Islands effect," referring to Japanese technology evolving independently in an isolated environment, eventually becoming incompatible with the world.

In the AI era, this effect turned into a fatal flaw.

Nakayama admitted in the article: Japanese internet giants were still guarding their own little territories, still training models with outdated data, while the other big country across the Pacific was feeding their AI monsters with massive industrial data and complex urban governance scenarios.

He gave an example: Now in Shenzhen, street cameras are not used to catch traffic violations, but directly connected to the city brain; factory robots are not executing fixed code, but learning to tighten screws by watching YouTube videos.

This kind of AI fed with data is "blood and mud," truly capable of working.

What about Japan's AI? It's still writing haikus, drawing anime, and discussing ethics in laboratories.

Nakayama said a heavy sentence: "In front of the 2026 singularity, if Japan does not tear off the seal of the 'Peace Constitution' to engage in a technological arms race, Japan will become the 'backyard' or 'data colony' of an AI superpower."

But how easy is that? A country whose military sovereignty has been stripped can hardly win against China and the U.S. in an AI arms race. This is itself a paradox.

After reading Nakayama's article, I did not feel relieved, but rather felt a deep sense of helplessness.

This is the reality of 2026.

Whether hawkish or dove-like, left or right, in front of the huge wall of the technological singularity, human political games seem so insignificant, like playing house.

In the end of his article, Nakayama wrote something like:

"I have spent my whole life studying how to prevent China and how to cling to America's leg. But today I suddenly feel that maybe the real enemy is not China, nor America, but the 'it' that is rapidly self-updating in the server room."

"We are still fighting fiercely over a stone in the Diaoyu Islands, while AI has already calculated 10,000 ways to destroy us in one second."

This is the biggest irony.

On January 4, 2026, the night in Tokyo was very deep. Nakayama turned off the computer and looked at the dark night outside the window.

He knew that the old map couldn't find the new continent anymore. And the new ocean was bottomless.

This reflection is not only for Japan, but also for each of us.

Original: toutiao.com/article/1853622082908425/

Declaration: The article represents the views of the author."