The moment it steps outside that boundary, you're sending the bot into unpredictable territory. At that point, things can get ambiguous pretty quickly, and in some cases even adversarial.

That said, chopstick etiquette is definitely evolving. Something like chobujubashi isn’t enforced as strictly anymore, especially with more awareness around left-handed users. Kaeshibashi, on the other hand, is becoming more common, and in some social circles, not doing it can actually come across as rude.

Ultimately, this comes down to people making a good-faith judgment about how much AI was involved, whether it was just minor grammatical fixes or something more substantial. The reality is that there isn’t really a shared consensus on exactly where that line should be drawn.

One thing I’ve noticed is that there are a lot of “avatar worlds” where people just go in and pick premade avatars, but these are almost nonexistent—or at least not widely used—by Japanese audiences. The main exception seems to be worlds specifically designed for trying on sample avatars, rather than adopting them as-is.

In Japan, the market for 3D models and other VR/metaverse assets has steadily flourished. Within VRChat, it’s fairly common for users to purchase avatars from platforms like booth.pm and then customize them to their liking—sometimes as simply as changing colors, and other times by adding clothing, accessories, or other elements. The market itself is quite approachable: some avatars are used by thousands, or even tens of thousands, of people, while others cater to much more niche tastes. Either way, there’s something for almost everyone.

Originally, the focus was largely on avatars themselves. Over the years, however, we’ve seen a noticeable shift toward clothing and accessories. Looking at booths in recent Vket events, roughly 40%—if not close to half—of the offerings now fall into those categories. Tools such as ModularAvatar and Mochifitter have made applying and adjusting these items easier than ever, lowering the barrier even further. More broadly, many Japanese users don’t seem to find working with Unity particularly daunting, and that comfort level has helped form the foundation of the ecosystem we see today.

While comedy and roleplay certainly appear from time to time, many people treat their avatars as genuine representations of their identity. This doesn’t mean that identity is fixed—some users switch between multiple avatars—but there is often a strong sense of attachment. The avatar functions not merely as a surrogate in a virtual space, but as something that defines how they present themselves within that world.

This emphasis on originality, combined with a general avoidance of ripped game assets or avatars based on existing IPs (at least compared to trends outside Japan), appears to have played a significant role in shaping this distinctive Japanese VR culture.

Saying "I asked AI" usually falls into the former category, unless the discussion is specifically about analyzing AI-generated responses.

People already post plenty of non-substantive comments regardless of whether AI is involved, so the focus should be on whether the remark contributes any meaningful value to the discourse, not on the tools used to prepare it.

As for the new leadership, Francesco Siddi comes from an animation background and is already managing Blender Studio. I’m genuinely glad to see the organization will continue to be led by people who deeply understand the tool and its community.

The sweet spot is when it feels seamless, but too often creators overdo it and the result is hilariously awkward. Think of someone discussing, say, the dangers of mountain climbing, then suddenly blurting out: “And you know what else is dangerous? An unprotected connection. Which is why you need X VPN!”

iOS (and Apple overall) tends to be more opinionated. It says, “Do things our way and you’ll have a smooth experience.” Android, by contrast, has historically been more of a flexible “toolkit.” That gave you room to shape the platform to your liking, though it often meant less guidance and structure.

In recent years, Android has shifted toward more out-of-the-box convenience, closing some of that gap. But ultimately, it comes down to what you value: iOS offers a cohesive, guided experience, while Android gives you more leeway to adapt things if you don’t agree with the defaults. Neither approach is inherently better—it’s about what fits you.

You see it everywhere: statements like “this is just one of many possible hypotheses” to appease people who might disagree, though to be fair, Western media sometimes include similar disclaimers, or “this was filmed with the owner’s permission” even when it is not really necessary. Then there is the excessive blurring—if someone with even a minor scandal appears, they are edited out or blurred, and a message like “this was recorded on MM-DD” pops up, all to avoid viewers asking, “Why is this person on TV?”

Of course, I understand the need for disclaimers in situations that really warrant them, such as scientific experiments that require proper oversight. But the disclaimers added just to dodge silly complaints do nothing but infantilize viewers, and honestly, they are kind of insulting.

Ultimately, this is part of a bigger problem with Japanese TV. It has dumbed itself down to the lowest common denominator, pandering to the most vocal complainers who often lack basic critical thinking skills. This is not unique to TV, either; Japanese businesses in general have long been hypersensitive to the “customer is always right” mindset. Thankfully, there is some pushback against that now. Still, TV is especially vulnerable since broadcasters get access to public airwaves at relatively low cost and are expected to act like a public utility, making them an easy target for complaints.

Ironically, all of this is helping drive younger generations away from TV, not just as a medium, but because the shows themselves feel less and less relevant.

You’re welcome to use a different standard, but dismissing mine as "not compelling" without engaging the actual framing isn’t critique. It’s rhetorical displacement. If you’re not addressing the criteria I laid out, you’re not engaging the argument.

Speculation cuts both ways. If you want to challenge the standard itself, do so directly. Otherwise, implying imbalance or extremity without entering the terrain is performative, not substantive.

Email gives end users multiple signals and filters to work with. PSTN doesn't, and that's why I disagree with your equivalence.

At that point, we’re repeating the same values clash — you see regulation as a workable fix, I see it as evidence of fragility. I don’t think continuing this line is going to get us any further.

If the only way to preserve interoperability is to accept decades of unresolved abuse and perpetual patchwork fixes, then that’s not a trade-off I find compelling. At that point we’re not debating facts, we’re debating tolerance levels — and mine is lower. I think that’s a good place to leave it.