There are 220 manufacturing staff at Dassai. Some people think Dassai achieved automation by digitizing and mechanizing processes to cut labor costs and build mass production — yet this number of staff seems strange. But fundamentally, the question is: “Why do we need this many people?”
Indeed, I have read in magazines that a major Nada brewer with about eight times the production volume employs only 91 people. And in the Hokuriku region, breweries with sales levels close to Dassai have around 50 staff. Compared to them, Dassai’s staff count stands out.
Last year, something happened that confirmed why we have so many staff. The production department suggested, “We don’t need the rice‑washing robot anymore — we'd like to dispose of it.” This rice‑washing robot has been in use at the main brewery for eight years, alongside fully manual washing. It’s almost never broken and reputed among sake brewers as a “divine tool.” Nonetheless, from the perspective of our rice‑washing team, its performance doesn’t quite meet our goals.
Every day, the rice allocated for washing is individually tested for moisture, and thoroughly analyzed before milling. (We don’t get complacent thinking “it’s special‑grade rice from XYZ.” Even rice from the same origin differs by field and year.) Here the difference emerges between the “excellent” robot and human hands. Rice condition varies by lot. The robot can perform standardized water absorption, but it lacks the flexibility to adjust to ever‑changing rice lots. Specifically, machines react slower than humans. Humans are inconsistent but excel in non‑uniform conditions.
However, with machines, you don’t need people. When washing rice, to match the robot’s daily throughput, humans require five times the workforce. This illustrates why Dassai’s brewing still needs much manual labor, even for just the rice washing.
The evolution of Dassai sake followed this path. We started as an undistinguished local brewery with no special skills, then pursued junmai daiginjo, and attracted excellent toji masters. However, while they were deeply experienced, they hadn’t developed a habit of analyzing their craft theoretically.
As they shared their “mythical” brewing techniques and pursued junmai daiginjo, we gained experience and realized the importance of data. Around the time I became deeply involved in brewing, digital tech advanced and instrumentation became affordable. With cost‑effective digital tools, we could collect data from many perspectives with greater precision, and it became more useful. Then, we became dissatisfied with the results from conventional sake‑making machines — and realized certain tasks must be done manually. Through this process, our manufacturing staff grew from just 5 people in 1999 (when I and our employees took over after the toji masters left) to today’s 220.
A similar story came from America. We hired local staff and hesitated to have them do midnight koji-making. So we introduced a machine for post‑box koji work. This machine is highly regarded — some breweries using it regularly win gold medals at sake competitions. Yet local feedback was just like with the rice‑washing robot: “It makes proper koji, but nothing more” — “we’re unsatisfied.” So, we scrapped it and switched to midnight koji work by hand in boxes, just like in Japan.
This story shows what Dassai is all about: not “preserving handcrafted methods,” but “growing technically and qualitatively as a brewery.”
This morning at our daily meeting, I told everyone: “Dassai didn’t grow by automating and suppressing human skill — we grew by using data while drawing out individual capabilities.” I added: “Of course, this can superficially increase personal stress — in some ways you’d have it easier relying on machines and becoming a machine’s servant. But that doesn’t feel like human happiness, and that’s why we chose this path.”
I don’t know if everyone is 100% convinced, but I believe most of our staff understand this thinking. This is how Dassai is brewed.