Why Kihachi Sakamoto Rejects Religion and Gods in Sparks of Tomorrow: Electrical Science vs. Faith
When I started watching Sparks of Tomorrow, I expected another beautifully animated historical drama with emotional family moments and a touch of romance. What I didn’t expect was one of the most interesting ideological conflicts I’ve seen in anime for a long time.
Kihachi Sakamoto isn’t your typical optimistic inventor. He’s not chasing technology because it’s “cool,” nor is he simply trying to become the greatest engineer in Japan. His obsession with electricity feels much deeper. To me, it almost looks like he’s replacing religion with science—not because he hates spirituality for the sake of being rebellious, but because life convinced him that human hands accomplish more than unanswered prayers ever could.
That’s one of the reasons I think Sparks of Tomorrow already stands out from many recent anime.
More Than an Inventor: Kihachi Is Searching for Proof
One thing I immediately liked about Kihachi is that he never comes across as an arrogant genius who thinks everyone else is stupid.
Instead, he behaves like someone who has been disappointed so deeply that he refuses to believe in invisible promises anymore.
After losing his older brother Seiroku, everything that once gave him hope disappears almost overnight. The famous 20th Century Electrical Catalog wasn’t simply a notebook full of inventions—it represented the future both brothers wanted to build together.
When Seiroku dies and the catalog disappears with him, Kihachi doesn’t lose only family.
He loses certainty.
And that’s exactly why I think his worldview changes so dramatically.
Instead of asking questions like:
- Why would the gods allow this?
- Was this fate?
- Did heaven have a plan?
he starts asking completely different ones:
- How can I prevent this from happening again?
- How can people build a better future themselves?
- What actually works?
That difference defines his entire personality.
Electricity Becomes His Religion
This is probably my favorite thematic element in the series.
Most stories present science and faith as enemies.
Sparks of Tomorrow feels more nuanced.
Kihachi doesn’t literally worship electricity, but he gives it something very close to religious significance.
| Traditional Faith | Kihachi’s Philosophy |
|---|---|
| Pray for miracles | Build miracles |
| Trust invisible powers | Trust observable results |
| Accept destiny | Change destiny |
| Wait for salvation | Create salvation |
Electricity doesn’t care whether someone is rich or poor.
It doesn’t reward believers.
It doesn’t punish sinners.
If the circuit is designed correctly, it simply works.
For someone carrying Kihachi’s emotional scars, that’s infinitely more comforting than believing an unseen force might decide to help—or not.
Inako Is Exactly the Person He Needed
If Kihachi represents modern Japan, then Inako Momokawa represents everything Japan is trying not to lose.
She believes in traditions.
She respects rituals.
She finds strength in faith.
Normally, this setup would create a cliché “science vs religion” rivalry.
Fortunately, Sparks of Tomorrow avoids making either character feel ridiculous.
I actually appreciate that Inako isn’t portrayed as naïve.
Likewise, Kihachi isn’t written as an edgy atheist whose entire personality revolves around mocking believers.
Instead, both characters genuinely believe they’re trying to help people.
That’s what makes every conversation between them interesting.
You don’t get the feeling that one side is automatically right.
You simply watch two different ways of understanding the world collide.
The Meiji Era Makes Everything Better
One reason this conflict works so well is the historical setting.
Japan during the late Meiji period was changing faster than almost anyone could comprehend.
Suddenly people saw:
- electric lights
- telegraph systems
- railroads
- factories
- modern engineering
Centuries of myths suddenly had scientific explanations.
Lightning wasn’t necessarily divine punishment anymore.
It became electricity.
Darkness wasn’t something to endure.
Someone could literally invent a lightbulb.
That historical backdrop makes Kihachi’s philosophy feel believable instead of forced.
If the anime had taken place in modern Tokyo, his ideas wouldn’t feel nearly as powerful.
Science Isn’t Automatically Good Either
One detail I hope more viewers notice is that the anime never suggests technology alone will save humanity.
The appearance of powerful industrial interests proves that.
The competition surrounding the lost electrical catalog demonstrates that inventions themselves are neutral.
People decide how they’re used.
That’s where Yosuke becomes such an effective antagonist.
He’s fascinated by the same technological future as Kihachi.
The difference is motivation.
Kihachi wants electricity to improve people’s lives.
Yosuke wants electricity to strengthen his family’s influence.
That contrast keeps the story from becoming a simplistic “science solves everything” narrative.
Instead, it asks another question:
What happens when incredible discoveries fall into the wrong hands?
That’s arguably just as relevant today as it was during the Meiji era.
Why Kihachi Feels Surprisingly Modern
Even though the story takes place over a century ago, Kihachi reminds me of people today.
Many younger generations don’t automatically trust traditions simply because they’ve existed for hundreds of years.
Instead, they often ask for evidence.
They question authority.
They value practical solutions.
Kihachi embodies that mindset long before it became common.
Ironically, this makes him one of the most contemporary protagonists in historical anime.
His beliefs don’t feel outdated.
If anything, they feel incredibly current.
My Personal Theory About the Ending
This is just speculation, but I don’t think Sparks of Tomorrow is building toward a simple message that science defeats religion.
That would honestly be too easy.
Instead, I suspect Kihachi’s journey is about understanding that faith doesn’t always mean believing in gods.
Sometimes faith means believing in people.
Believing in your friends.
Believing your dreams are still worth pursuing after tragedy.
Believing tomorrow can be brighter than today.
Ironically, Kihachi already has faith.
He simply places it somewhere different.
And I wouldn’t be surprised if Inako slowly realizes that engineering can become an act of compassion just as much as prayer can.
Likewise, Kihachi may eventually understand that faith isn’t always passive acceptance.
For some people, it provides the strength to keep moving when logic alone isn’t enough.
If the anime manages to bring those two perspectives together instead of declaring a clear winner, I think it’ll leave a much stronger impression than most historical dramas.
Final Thoughts
For me, Kihachi Sakamoto is already one of the most compelling new protagonists in anime because his conflict isn’t about defeating monsters or becoming stronger.
His real battle is philosophical.
He’s trying to answer one of humanity’s oldest questions:
Who shapes the future—higher powers, or ourselves?
Whether you agree with his rejection of religion or not, it’s hard to deny that his perspective feels authentic after everything he’s experienced.
His grief transformed into determination.
His despair became invention.
And every spark generated by his machines feels like another declaration that humanity doesn’t have to wait for miracles—it can create them.
If Sparks of Tomorrow continues exploring these themes with the same level of care, I genuinely think it could become one of the most thought-provoking historical anime in recent years. It’s the kind of series that stays in your head long after the episode ends, not because of explosive action scenes, but because it quietly asks difficult questions about progress, belief, loss, and what it truly means to build a better future.
