mercredi 24 février 2010

NY Times Op-Ed by 大前研一

Toyota, Computers and the Human Factor

Published: February 24, 2010

TOKYO — Over the past decades, Toyota has built a strong presence in the United States by serving its consumers well and doing what the U.S. government has wanted. Now, it has stumbled badly largely because its greatest strength — the Toyota Way of “accumulation of small improvements,” or “kaizen” philosophy — has turned out to be a weakness in the age of complex electronic engines.

There is every reason to believe Toyota will fix its technical and management problems. The question is whether it will dig a deeper hole by losing the air of trust and reputation for competence among customers it has spent so long building up. That would be bad for Toyota, and for America.

Most auto companies in the past, including Ford and G.M., have had recall problems like Toyota. They all seem to try to hide the early evidence of flaws, even if they affect safety. This goes back to the American consumer advocate Ralph Nader’s “unsafe at any speed” campaign in the U.S. in 1965 that involved the Chevrolet Corvair produced by G.M.

Today, however, with electronic programming of cars, many of the problems emerging — such as the braking system of the Prius — are of a new nature. They are judgmental engineering calls. If they can be corrected by readjusting the setting on recalled cars, then Toyota can handle that quickly.

But what we are seeing may be a more fundamental problem that has to do with the engine control unit as a whole. In an average Toyota, there are about 24,000 inputs and outputs, with as many as 70 computer chips processing information and sending it on to other chips to operate the engine control units. It is a very complex system.

Such complex systems are a problem these days for all auto manufacturers — Germans and Americans as well as Japanese — because about 60 percent of a modern automobile is electronics. Toyota is the canary in the cave, so to speak, since it is the world’s largest manufacturer of cars, with more than 50 plants across the globe outside of Japan. Toyota has been expanding so rapidly it has more models on the road than any other carmaker on earth.

What we see with Toyota in particular is that this new electronic complexity has overwhelmed its famous concept of kaizen — “the accumulation of small improvements” — that has made Toyota such a quality brand worldwide. The company has so perfected the practice of kaizen from the bottom up at the assembly line that it has lost the big picture of how the whole electronic engine — and thus overall safety — works.

This is a limitation of the kaizen philosophy, which has helped Japan become the headquarters of quality manufacturing. If Toyota does not recognize this and tries to chalk all its problems up to floor mats touching the accelerator, or resetting a computer, it will miss the real issue. Where Toyota has failed is that rather than review the overall safety of the engine operating unit, it has focused instead on diagnosing the function of many thousands of pieces of an electronic engine.

What the company is missing is the human factor — a single person who has a comprehensive understanding of the details of the engine and how the parts interact and work as a whole.

In the old days, one chief engineer used to design everything. This was true with ships and airplanes as well as nuclear reactors. Now, design and production is broken down into so many details that there is no one in the current generation of Toyota engineers who seems to have the whole picture. A 45-year-old engineer at Toyota today would have spent the last 25 years working on “the accumulation of small improvements.”

What this suggests is that Toyota has to come up with a new organizational ethos beyond kaizen that can oversee the crucial safety features that may have been compromised by so much incremental improvement over the years. This is a philosophical problem of management, not a technical issue. A new system of “man and machine interface” needs to supplement the kaizen philosophy — in other words, one that perfects the big picture of engine control safety instead of just the small picture of components.

I believe Toyota can meet this challenge. The challenge I fear it will fail to meet is the psychological one, enveloped as the company’s leaders seem to be in a sense of panic at being attacked politically and in the press in their most lucrative market, the United States. There is such a clash between aggressive American political and media culture and reserved Japanese ways.

As America brings Toyota to account on safety, it must also put the company in the right perspective. Toyota has also always done what the American market and politicians demanded without losing quality or productivity. The U.S. asked Toyota to come to the U.S. to produce cars instead of export them from Japan, and use up to 50 percent local content.

Today, 2.5 million cars are produced annually in the U.S. at several plants; this has created many jobs. Toyota’s annual spending on parts, goods and services from hundreds of U.S. suppliers totals more than $22 billion.

Ninety-five Japanese component companies were transplanted from Japan to supply Toyota through its “just in time” manufacturing process, building up a component supply network along the Mississippi Valley that didn’t exist before.

Toyota is in the hot seat. But everyone should understand that the issue at hand is the tradeoff between complexity and safety in an age in which electronics and computers dominate the vehicles we all use on a daily basis.

Kenichi Ohmae is a management consultant and a former a senior partner at McKinsey & Co. He is author of “The Mind of the Strategist” and “The Borderless World.”
Global Viewpoint / Tribune Media Services

mardi 23 février 2010

To All the Hysteric Whale Lovers

Misguided Emotions by Phililp Bowring

Published: February 23, 2010

HONG KONG — It must count as one of the more bizarre bits of diplomacy in recent times. Last week, on the eve of a visit by Japanese Foreign Minister Katsuya Okada, Prime Minister Kevin Rudd of Australia threatened to take Japan to the International Court of Justice if it did not stop whaling in the Southern Ocean, the part of the Indian Ocean south of Australia.

One may dismiss this as a politician’s gesture aimed at a domestic audience that has taken to emotional “save the whales” campaigns. Though whale oil and bone had once been Australia’s biggest export, the nation had no tradition of eating whale meat, and a shortage of whales caused the closure of its last whaling station in 1978.

But such outbursts in favor of one member of the mammal kingdom by a major exporter of red meat is likely to do more damage to Australia’s image than to Japan’s. Most of Australia’s Asian neighbors — other than Japan — may not care much one way or the other about whaling. But the tone of moral superiority adopted by Australia — its apparent belief that it is the guardian of the Southern Ocean from Asian depredation — grates on many Asians who also resent environment lessons from a top carbon polluter.

From an Australian perspective it may seem reasonable that the largest, most advanced country in the Southern Ocean should assume some responsibility for it. But such assumptions of its rights and duties in international waters can easily keep alive lingering Asian resentments of Western colonialism — European expansionism that gave a small new nation with a population only a little bigger than Shanghai control over a vast, mineral rich landmass. Does Australia want to control the ocean too, some ask?

There may be scientific arguments about whether Japan’s harvesting of several hundred whales per year is endangering the stock in the Southern Ocean. But Australia’s “crusade” seems more couched in emotional than scientific terms. We see this also in the heroic status accorded the Australian and New Zealand campaigners who have harassed Japan’s whaling vessels.

Japan may be pushing the limits of the “scientific research” allowed by the International Whaling Commission in the “whale sanctuary” it declared in the Southern Ocean. But at least Japan still belongs to that body. Norway always refused to accept I.W.C. restrictions. Iceland walked out of the I.W.C. in 1992 (it returned in 2002 but largely on its own terms). Canada left earlier and has not returned.

Meanwhile, other countries with whaling traditions turn a blind eye to the organization. For example, whale hunting is illegal in South Korea but the meat of whales caught in nets or killed accidentally is sold freely. There is pressure to make hunting legal again. Other countries, including Russia and Denmark, allow it for “traditional” communities, which take hundreds of whales a year.

Even making allowances for all the unofficial catch it is still small compared with the numbers killed by ship collisions and nets.

In short, though the world needs properly regulated management of the oceans, Mr. Rudd’s antics discourage whaling countries from cooperating with the I.W.C. and make others reluctant to accept controls on fishing in international waters to stabilize rapidly depleting fish stocks.

Harpooning whales may be cruel and does excite emotions even among those who regularly eat red meat. But Australia is in scant position to complain when it shoots upward of 3 million wild kangaroos a year to protect crops and grazing for sheep and cattle. It recently announced a mass shooting of troublesome wild camels.

The kangaroo and camel culls may be justified. But local emotions are confused. Shooting kangaroos by licensed hunters has long been common in Australia’s outback. But a plan for a culling of the national symbol near the national capital raised a storm of protest to “save Skippy” (the pet kangaroo in a famous children’s TV program).

There is of course nothing unusual in battles between the heart and the head when it comes to attitudes to animals. For example, there is emotion, not reason, behind those in the West who are horrified with the consumption of dog in the East. In fact, there is no reason to treat whales differently from horses, which are still a table meat in some European countries.

Australia’s elevation of its selective emotion into a diplomatic feud with its major Asian ally is nothing short of ridiculous.

Misguided