A controversy has erupted on social media over accusations that manga artist and illustrator Hisashi Eguchi engaged in “torepaku.” The term refers to the unauthorized tracing of photos or designs owned by others for commercial use—in short, copying another person’s work. The issue began with a poster created for an event at the Lumine Ogikubo shopping mall, but similar suspicions have since been raised regarding Eguchi’s collaborations with eyewear brand Zoff, restaurant chain Denny’s, credit card company Saison Card, and J. F. Oberlin University.

A similar controversy occurred during the selection process for the official emblem of the Tokyo 2020 Olympic and Paralympic Games. When allegations of plagiarism arose against designer Kenjiro Sano, people on social media began posting side-by-side comparisons between his past works and supposed “original sources.” The emblem was ultimately withdrawn. This was seen as a triumph of “justice” by self-organized anonymous internet users known as tokutei-han (literally “identification teams”). Yet, in the end, it only succeeded in driving a single designer out of the spotlight—without meaningfully advancing the discussion on creation versus imitation.

In the art world, there are concepts that recognize the limited use of others’ intellectual property, such as fair use, and the creative reinterpretation of existing works to generate new meaning, known as appropriation. These principles constantly wrestle between copyright protection and freedom of expression. A well-known case in this context is the lawsuit filed by photographer Lynn Goldsmith against the Andy Warhol Foundation over a work created by Warhol based on Goldsmith’s portrait photograph. In the first trial, the court ruled in favor of Warhol; in the second trial, Goldsmith prevailed; and finally, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld Goldsmith’s claim.

We might recall Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain (1917)—a urinal laid on its side and presented as an artwork—or Jasper Johns’ Flag (1954–1955), which questions whether a painting of a flag is an image of the flag or the flag itself. Both works probe the blurred boundary between creation and quotation, originality and imitation.

Today, with rapid advances in digital technology, it no longer takes special skill to edit, modify, or reproduce creative works. Anyone can become a creator—and at the same time, a potential violator of others’ rights. That is precisely why the current “torepaku” controversy should prompt a thoughtful and balanced discussion about creativity and intellectual property in the age of generative AI. Simply cornering a famous artist, forcing an apology, and feeling vindicated does nothing to get to the heart of the issue.

Takashi Mizukoshi, the President
This Week’s Focus, October 12–16, 2025