THE TOYOTA WAY

Nagoya, Japan, November 2011.  Memories of visiting Japan’s fourth largest city with Shigeo – in his home country, are special.  It’s not often that I have an opportunity to travel with him in his native land.  Over the years, I’ve discovered that some of my partner’s most endearing qualities shine when he’s fully immersed in his country, his language, and his culture.  He floats along so confidently, fully bathed in the anchors of his childhood.  Meanwhile, I’m lost.  It’s all foreign to me.  I realize my total dependence on him for understanding what I’m seeing, what I’m hearing, where I’m going and, sometimes, what I’m feeling.

I take it all in stride.  It’s a different culture.  My goal for that day was to do something out of the ordinary.  I wanted to do something that Shigeo had never done in his home country.

As a longtime Toyota/Lexus owner, my interest in visiting a vehicle assembly plant in Japan grew stronger every year.  Ever since 1975, the year I purchased my first brand new Toyota, a candy apple red Celica GT, I’ve appreciated the build quality and reliability of the brand.  As a kid, I visited many American auto assembly plants.  That experience fueled real curiosity about how cars were built in other countries – since American cars were the gold standard, according to my father.  This developing interest in foreign brands made for some challenging discussions at dinnertime.

Given Toyota’s growing reputation for quality, the time had come to see a plant in action.    On this trip to Japan, we planned an excursion from Tokyo to central Honshu. Shinkansen is the name of the high-speed train that whisks Japanese citizens around their island nation.  The trains are extremely fast and always on time.  Once onboard, the first thing you hear is the SILENCE.  I caught on quickly when multiple glances followed my American voice projecting throughout the car.  I wasn’t loud.  For just a few seconds, I was the only one speaking.

Culturally, Japanese society is quiet.  There are no loud outbursts, exclamations of joy, or gleeful expressions of excitement – at least not in public.  I tried desperately to understand how people meet one another.  Friendly exchanges, soft hellos, and gentle nods to strangers is what ‘have a nice day’ is all about.  Absent simple interactions, I found the atmosphere tight, rigid, and lacking in spontaneity.

Travel to Japan has taken me to countryside villages as well as Shibuya.  Shibuya is where the famous pedestrian intersection, one of the most heavily walked streets in the world, exists.  It’s not quiet there – it’s full of twenty-somethings.  Young Japanese kids are different.  Their outward curiosity and verbosity contrasts with the older generation’s staid, order-driven habits.  I like the Shibuya area.

It took about two hours for the train to whisk us from Tokyo to Nagoya.  From the train station we boarded a shuttle van and headed to the TOYOTA assembly plant.  I had good bumps.

We arrived.  Standing outside, the simple reinforced concrete building was massive.  It reminded me of the Boeing jet assembly plant in Everett, Washington.  Those buildings are huge and these buildings appeared even larger – long and wide, accommodating the steps in the vehicle assembly process.  We registered, showed identification, and had our bags thoroughly checked before the tour began.  No photos.

Just like my Shinkansen experience, the eeriness of quiet took over.  Robots and articulating action machines replaced human engagement.  We were in the future.  We observed robotic part retrieval, delivery, and assembly everywhere we turned.  The use of robots promoted efficiency and timeliness since they don’t take breaks, don’t take phone calls, don’t have bad days, headaches, or kids to care for.  They just work.

The few humans we observed were men.  There were no women in the assembly area.  Since this experience was 13 years ago, I’m left wondering if women are working in the plant in 2024 – or is Japan still operating according sexist rules from years gone by.

Periodically, our tour guide fielded questions.  I took advantage of the moment and asked, “why are the majority of the vehicles painted white, grey, and black?”  After a brief pause, the guide offered that, culturally, the Japanese prefer vehicles in these colors.  People draw attention to themselves in vehicles painted other colors.  “The desire is to blend in,” he said. Needless to say, exceptions in paint color caught my attention for the rest of the tour.  I counted four vehicles:  one red, two blue, and one sage green.

Our experience lasted two hours.  My goal was met.  I was happy that Shigeo was able to check something off a list he didn’t know existed.  And, of course, his imagination was captured by the technical aspects of the tour.

In the end, the experience was everything I hoped it would be.  I finally got a glimpse inside a Japanese auto factory where perfection is the goal.  That’s The TOYOTA Way.

I think I know what dad would say about that…