This Company's Robots Are Making Everything and Reshaping the World
This Company's Robots Are Making Everything and Reshaping
the World
October 18, 2017, 1:00 AM PDT
The headquarters of Fanuc sit in the shadow of Mt. Fuji,
on a sprawling, secluded campus of 22 windowless factories and dozens of office
buildings. The grounds approach the lower slopes of Japan’s most famous peak,
encircled by a dense forest that Fanuc’s founding CEO, Seiuemon Inaba, planted
decades ago to shield the company’s operations from prying eyes—an example of
the preoccupation with secrecy that once led Fortune to compare him to a bond
villain.
Since taking over as chairman and chief executive officer
in 2003, Inaba’s son, Yoshiharu, has continued the tradition of privacy. He
takes questions from investors only twice a year, wearing a blazer in the lemon
yellow the company uses to brand the factory automation robots it produces, the
factories its robots work in, its employees’ uniforms, and the company cars
that shuttle engineers and executives around the neighboring village of Oshino.
The elder Inaba once explained this uncharacteristically
loud touch by calling yellow “the emperor’s color.” It also helps security
guards quickly identify outsiders. In Seiuemon’s day, the fear was industrial
espionage; today’s spies are more likely to be working for investors or stock
analysts who want to peek behind the lemon curtain for insight into everything
from global automobile manufacturing to iPhone orders.
On a warm afternoon in May, the company cars come and go
like bees from a hive, ferrying visitors through the front gates near a
towering green dormitory. Keisuke Fujii, who manages public relations for Fanuc
Ltd., isn’t scheduled to meet me, having already offered the expected “no
comment” on behalf of executives and the company. When I arrive unannounced at
the security checkpoint, hoping to persuade him to do otherwise, he’s away from
his office phone; a guard offers to escort me while I search the grounds for
him.
We don’t find Fujii, so I leave the campus with little
more than a glimpse of the world behind Inaba’s forest: a clock above the
entrance to the main research facility that ticks at 10 times the usual speed,
as if innovation can’t happen quickly enough for the world leader in factory
automation technology, plus several 40,000-square-foot factories, each of which
contains hundreds of bright yellow Fanuc robots working around the clock to
build other Fanuc robots, stopping only when no storage space remains. Some
robots will be shipped elsewhere in Japan, where strict immigration policies
and a declining birthrate have left manufacturers of all sizes more dependent
on factory automation. But most are bound for China.
Automation has been rising over the past decade there,
partly because, as wages and living standards have risen, workers have proved
less willing to perform dangerous, monotonous tasks, and partly because Chinese
manufacturers are seeking the same efficiencies as their overseas counterparts.
More and more, it’s Fanuc’s industrial robots that assemble and paint
automobiles in China, construct complex motors, and make injection-molded parts
and electrical components. At pharmaceutical companies, Fanuc’s sorting robots
categorize and package pills. At food-packaging facilities, they slice, squirt,
and wrap edibles.
King of them all is the Robodrill, which plays first
violin in one of the great symphonies of modern production: machining the metal
casing for Apple Inc.’s iPhones. In the fiscal year surrounding the 2010
introduction of the iPhone 4, the first to use an all-metal casing, Robodrill
sales more than doubled.
Since then, this relationship has become so chummy that,
based solely on strong first-quarter Robodrill sales, analysts discounted early
rumors the iPhone 8 would eschew metal casing for front-and-back glass panels.
Instead, the recent iPhone 8 release and coming iPhone X launch spurred higher
Robodrill sales to Apple’s manufacturers in China, some of which are building
new factories to assemble the company’s phones. New iPhones also mean more
demand for Robodrills from Chinese smartphone makers such as Xiaomi, Vivo, Oppo
Electronics, and Huawei Technologies, which often present their own more
affordable models in the wake of each fresh offering from Apple.
And as China goes, so goes the rest of the industrial
world. Multinationals that are reshoring operations from East Asia to North
America and Europe are doing so in part because automation promises
sophisticated production methods and labor savings; they, and companies who
stayed out of China in the first place, are spending more than ever on
industrial robots. The overarching pattern is less a reversal of the 20th
century’s offshore manufacturing boom than an unraveling, with jobs vanishing
from developing and developed nations alike.
Amid the tumult, there’s one clear winner: the $50
billion company that controls most of the world’s market for factory automation
and industrial robotics. In fact, Fanuc might just be the single most important
manufacturing company in the world right now, because everything Fanuc does is
designed to make it part of what every other manufacturing company is doing.
In 1955, Fujitsu Ltd., the world’s third-oldest
information technology company after International Business Machines Corp. and
Hewlett-Packard Co., tapped Seiuemon Inaba, who was then a young engineer, to
lead a new subsidiary dedicated to the field of numerical control. This nascent
form of automation involved sending instructions encoded into punched or
magnetic tape to motors that controlled the movement of tools, effectively
creating programmable versions of the lathes, presses, and milling machines you
might find in shop class.
From the beginning, Inaba spent heavily on research and
development without concern for dividends—a corporate mission he described as
“walking the narrow path.” But within three years, he and his team of 500
employees were shipping Fujitsu’s first numerical-control machine to Makino
Milling Machine Co. In 1972, Fujitsu-Fanuc Ltd.—the “Fanuc” an acronym for Fuji
Automatic Numerical Control—was founded as a separate entity, with Inaba in
charge.
The next phase of global manufacturing, he believed,
would be computer numerical control, which relied on a standard programming
language. At the time, the 10 largest CNC companies in the world were based in
the U.S., but within a few years Fanuc had overtaken them all. By 1981, almost
solely because of Inaba’s innovations, more than 11,000 industrial robots were
being used in Japanese manufacturing operations, helping streamline processes
such as sheet-metal cutting and engine-part machining.
These were welcome advances for manufacturers in most
developed economies, where employment costs had been rising steadily since the
beginning of the 1970s. Even so, these early robots required enough human
participation (and unions and labor laws were sometimes strong enough) that
many industries ended up focusing more on increasing productivity than on
slashing jobs and wages. That meant, for example, that machinists who worked
more slowly than robots might instead become swift assemblers of finished
parts.
The next step for Inaba was to take Fanuc’s CNC systems
and make them networkable. With this frontier in mind, he built the Oshino
headquarters and, in January 1981, while his new forest grew, invited media and
industry leaders from around the world to come watch robots make parts for
other robots. The factory he showcased was staffed by 100 human workers, each
of whom did the work of five men, aided by NC machine tools and industrial
robots that turned out parts which they then assembled.
The resulting press coverage caught the attention of
Roger Smith, who had recently become president and CEO of General Motors Corp.
Smith had joined GM’s accounting division 30 years earlier, after spending the
final two years of World War II in the U.S. Navy. He’d risen through the
corporate ranks slowly, gaining prominence as GM deftly navigated the gasoline
crisis of the 1970s to become America’s top automaker.
When Smith took over, GM held 46 percent of the U.S. auto
market, but the industry was in decline, and most companies were looking to cut
costs and improve efficiency to compete with Japanese automakers. GM was in the
enviable position of being flush with cash, and Smith had ideas, most of which
sought to restore the company’s focus on technological innovation. Like Fanuc,
GM had pioneered early developments in numerical control, including the use of
a storage system to record the movements of a human machinist, then mimic them
on demand. Such experiments had led Smith to imagine what he called a
“lights-out factory of the future,” which would so limit reliance on assembly
workers at GM plants that lights and air-conditioning would be unnecessary. The
company failed to advance very far in that direction, though, choosing to focus
instead on the traditional manufacturing methods that were helping it dominate
the U.S. auto market.
Fanuc’s robots were unlike anything Smith had seen
outside his own dreams, and he soon decided he’d found the way forward for GM.
A year after he became CEO, on a humid June afternoon in Troy, Mich., a yellow
robot bowed first to Smith and then Inaba before swinging its arm to cut the
ribbon for a joint venture called GMFanuc Robotics Corp.
After describing new “human-friendly robots” that can
help workers lift heavy loads, Yoshiharu insisted that “robots are merely tools
to make our lives better”
The partnership assured Fanuc a lucrative future with one
of the world’s largest manufacturing companies, in the world’s biggest car
market. But for Smith, the moment was tinged with regret. In meeting with his
executives to sell them on the partnership, he hadn’t bothered to mask his
feelings about the Japanese. “Never again can we let them take our technology
and beat us at our own game,” he said, according to Steven Parissien’s history
The Life of the Automobile.
With the deal struck, a staff of 70 workers in Japan set
about developing GMFanuc’s first robots, which were bound for the $600 million
Buick City complex in Flint, Mich. Smith suggested to the New York Times that
their work could eventually expand beyond automobiles. “We may make the first
electronic, automatic vacuum cleaner,” he said. “You walk out the door in the
morning, and at 11 o’clock this thing comes out and vacuums the whole house
while you’re gone.”
In 1986, after four years of development, the Buick City
factory’s first industrial robots were unveiled. But as soon as they were put
into service building GM cars, they proved problematic, even embarrassing.
According to Parissien, the factory’s 260 industrial robots “frequently gave
cockeyed instructions, ordering up the wrong bumpers, the wrong trim, the wrong
welds, or the wrong paint, sending instructions to the next robot, which was
too simple-minded to notice the errors. The paint robots were particularly
cantankerous, slopping gobs of paint on one car, then not enough on the next.”
More cantankerous still were robot arms meant to delicately attach windshields
to Buick LeSabres, which instead would ram them inside the cars, forcing human
workers to retrieve and set them by hand. Engineers strained their eyes trying
to manage the endless lines of code necessary to keep the robots working in
concert, and when the code needed to be updated, the factory’s 5,000 human
workers would stand idly by.
Well before Silicon Valley adopted the mantra “fail fast,
fail often,” Fanuc had observed its own version of the dictum, allowing Inaba
to innovate through ambitious trial and error. But GM seemed to learn little
from GMFanuc’s failures, never much improving the efficiency of its robot or
human workforces. Jim Hall, a former GM executive, told Automotive News the
problem hadn’t been Fanuc’s technology as much as how the American company had
tried to use it. “GM saw that the average Japanese plant had so many robots, so
GM thought more would be better,” Hall said. “They didn’t know how and why the
robots were being used, they just wanted to use more of them.”
The sheer quantity of robots may have overwhelmed GM’s
engineers, but it did wonders for Fanuc’s bottom line. The automaker spent tens
of billions of dollars on the GMFanuc project, funding Inaba’s investments in
the next iteration of Fanuc’s factory of the future. The Japanese company made
huge technological strides in the first six years of the partnership, becoming
in 1988 the world’s largest supplier of industrial robots.
Agreements between Fanuc and other manufacturing giants,
such as General Electric Co., soon followed, but for GM’s investors,
improvement wasn’t coming swiftly enough. Smith was additionally chastened by
another money-losing initiative, the $7 billion GM-10 project, which had
produced cars derided as overpriced and unimaginative. He took still more heat
when he backed away from robotization and instead embraced offshoring, becoming
the villain of Michael Moore’s 1989 documentary, Roger & Me, about 30,000
GM workers who’d been laid off in Michigan. Late on the morning of July 30,
1990, Smith drove off into retirement in the first car from the (non-GMFanuc)
assembly line at the Saturn plant in Spring Hill, Tenn., with nine troubled
years staring at him in the rearview mirror. GM’s share of the U.S. auto market
had plunged from 46 percent to 35 percent during his tenure.
Fanuc made a final score from the U.S. automaker in 1993,
when Smith’s successor, John Smith (no relation), sold GM’s share in the
robotics venture back to Fanuc. After years of GM-funded innovation, the
Japanese company had regained its independence and managed to keep its former
partner as a customer. A decade later, as Yoshiharu was taking over from his
father, the Japanese company fulfilled Roger Smith’s dream, opening a factory
in Oshino where robots made other robots in the dark.
Earlier this year, during one of Fanuc’s rare open
houses, Vice President Kenji Yamaguchi told investors that about 80 percent of
the company’s assembly work is automated. “Only the wiring is done by
engineers,” he said. And when you have lots of efficient robots making your
other robots, you can sell those robots more cheaply—about $25,500 for a new
Robodrill. (You can find a well-used older model on EBay for $8,500.)
Volkswagen Group, for instance, pays about 10 percent less for Fanuc robots
than it paid for ones it previously purchased from Kuka AG, a German company.
Fanuc manages to offer these savings while maintaining 40
percent operating profit margins, a success that Yamaguchi also traced to the
company’s centralized production in Japan, which is made possible, even though
most of its products are sold outside the country, by the 243 global service
centers that keep its robots operational. The company even profits from its
competitors’ sales, because more than half of all industrial robots are
directed by its numerical-control software. Between the almost 4 million CNC
systems and half-million or so industrial robots it has installed around the
world, Fanuc has captured about one-quarter of the global market, making it the
industry leader over competitors such as Yaskawa Motoman and ABB Robotics in
Germany, each of which has about 300,000 industrial robots installed globally.
Fanuc’s Robodrills now command an 80 percent share of the market for smartphone
manufacturing robots.
In the first quarter of 2017, North American
manufacturers spent $516 million on industrial robots, a 32 percent jump from
the same period a year earlier. A study published by the Brookings Institution
shows many of them are ending up in steel and auto manufacturing centers such
as Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio. According to the report, there are about nine
industrial robots for every 1,000 workers in Toledo and Detroit—three times the
figure for 2010. Many of these robots are Fanuc’s. Its machines are also in
Tesla Inc.’s Gigafactory, in Nevada, lifting heavy chassis and delicately
assembling battery trays, among other tasks. Its sorting robots, meanwhile, are
ubiquitous at Amazon.com Inc.’s massive warehousing and shipping facilities.
Orders from the U.S., though, are dwarfed by those from
China—some 90,000 units, almost a third of the world’s total industrial robot
orders last year. Sales to China amounted to about 55 percent of the $5 billion
Fanuc’s automation unit generated in the fiscal year ended March 2017. The
International Federation of Robotics estimates that, by 2019, China’s annual
industrial robot orders will rise to 160,000 units, suggesting Fanuc will be
insulated from any slowdown in the world’s second-largest economy. Yoshiharu
told investors at his most recent Q&A session in April that the company
expects demand in China to outstrip supply even after Fanuc opens a factory
next August in Japan’s Ibaraki prefecture. The facility will be dedicated
solely to keeping up with Chinese demand.
Research into the effects and possible consequences of
widespread robotization has yet to clarify whether it will make life
distressingly idle or wondrously drudge-free. In a study published earlier this
year by the National Bureau of Economics Research, researchers from Boston
University and MIT estimated that from 1990 to 2007 each new industrial robot
displaced five human workers. A recent German study of the period from 1994 to
2014 put the figure at two workers but noted that unions and workers’ councils
may have limited manufacturing job losses there and that medium-skilled
workers’ wages were nevertheless depressed. (The same study found that Germany
hadn’t experienced net job losses, because younger workers were entering other
sectors.)
Automation in China, meanwhile, has yet to harm wages,
and a recent report by Bloomberg Intelligence suggests the country’s
medium-skilled workers are still seeing wage gains. Those workers’ fortunes are
perhaps being buffered, for now at least, by electronics manufacturing. Song
Wufong, a middleman in Shanghai who connects foreigners with small and midsize
factories in provinces such as Fujian and Guangdong, says that workers in Shenzhen,
Guangdong’s manufacturing hub, have so far been somewhat insulated from
automation because electronics manufacturing still relies “on human hands that
can perform very detailed tasks,” such as wiring and assembly.
But Song says this will change as industrial robots
become smaller and more affordable. “Just a few years ago it was unusual to see
a small or midsize factory using robots,” he says. “Now I see it more and more
often as I travel around meeting with factory owners.” Song was born in the much
poorer province of Jiangxi, just north of Fujian and Guangdong, where he worked
for years doing unskilled factory labor. He made shoes, toys, and eventually
auto parts. “I’m lucky I left when I did,” he says. “Every time I visit, I meet
another friend who lost his job to a robot.”
This trend was confirmed by Hong Tao, director of
operations at the Beijing office of Pinkerton Consulting & Investigations
Inc. Hong says that when he joined the China wing of the world’s oldest
international detective agency in 2001, the company mostly concerned itself
with busting counterfeiters, investigating fraud and embezzlement, and
providing security for foreign executives, with the odd kidnapping case mixed
in. Then, around 2012, U.S. companies that once wanted his help opening
factories began asking for help closing them down.
“When one of our clients closes a factory in China, it’s
my job to prevent any violence or unrest by negotiating a severance package
that the workers and the company can both live with,” Hong says over tea at
Pinkerton’s Beijing office. This has become a growth industry for Pinkerton, as
wages continue to rise and foreign manufacturers continue to flee. About
one-third of the dozens of companies Hong has helped move their factories to
Thailand or Vietnam, where labor is cheaper. “The rest of them,” he says, “are
replacing Chinese peasants with Japanese robots.”
Fanuc robots simulate car production at the Automatica
trade fair in Munich, 2016.PHOTOGRAPHER: TOBIAS HASE/DPA/AP PHOTO
Toward the end of 2015, Fanuc joined a handful of other
Japanese companies to invest a combined $20 million in Preferred Networks Inc.,
an artificial intelligence startup with 60 employees. The modest funding masked
a hugely ambitious goal: becoming as dominant in manufacturing AI as Amazon and
Google Inc. are in their fields, which Preferred Networks planned to do by
partnering with Japanese manufacturers that generate immense troves of data.
The company’s co-founder and CEO, Toru Nishikawa, told
the Financial Times that while visiting Fanuc’s factory, he’d noticed the
absence of AI technology. He saw a chance to apply deep-learning techniques to
data culled from Fanuc’s army of manufacturing robots throughout the world so
they can improve their own capabilities. When robots make other robots
ceaselessly, without human intervention, he said, “data can be collected
infinitely.”
The result of Nishikawa’s insight was the Fanuc
Intelligent Edge Link and Drive, or Field. The system, introduced in 2016, is
an open, cloud-based platform that allows Fanuc to collect global manufacturing
data in real time on a previously unimaginable scale and funnel it to
self-teaching robots. According to Fanuc, Field has already yielded
advancements for tasks such as robotic bin-picking. Previously, the selection
of a single part from a bin full of similar parts arranged in random
orientations required skilled programmers to “teach” the robots how to perform
the task. Now, Fanuc’s robots are teaching themselves. “After 1,000 attempts,
the robot has a success rate of 60%,” a company release said. “After 5,000
attempts it can already pick up 90% of all parts—without a single line of
program code having to be written.”
Fanuc has so far declined to discuss its strategy
concerning its venture into AI and machine learning. An employee who would only
identify himself as Mr. Tanaka, because he wasn’t authorized to speak on the
record, says the company will continue to focus on China. But, he adds, “we
cannot rely on our past. As a company, we must adapt to new technology before
we can create new technology. This will take time, but it’s necessary—the next
generation of products have more functions, more connectivity, and more
intelligence.”
A few years ago, in response to criticism from investor
activist Daniel Loeb, who accused Fanuc of hoarding cash and investing in
long-term growth to the detriment of annual returns, Yoshiharu held another of
the company’s rare access sessions on the Oshino campus. Speaking with Japan’s
largest daily business newspaper, the Nikkei, he addressed more directly than
ever before the rising anxiety about robots taking jobs away from human
workers.
After describing new “human-friendly robots” that can
help workers lift heavy loads, he insisted that “robots are merely tools to
make our lives better and easier. They reduce the time we must spend on routine
tasks, giving us more time to focus on process control and other managerial
duties. Robots will not replace us completely.”
His explanation was arguably less comforting for workers
in other countries than for those in Japan, which is experiencing its worst
labor shortage in decades and where worker-friendly labor laws make it
difficult for companies to lay off employees for almost any reason, least of
all so they can be replaced by robots. Japan also has a legacy of successfully
balancing human and robotic labor. Toyota Motor Co., for example, uses hundreds
of Robodrills to machine and drill parts, but the company says it has relied on
robots for less than 8 percent of the work done on its global assembly lines in
the past decade.
Factory automation, Mr. Tanaka says, clears a path for
new ways of doing things even as it upends the old ways. “Any process which can
be automated frees the human hands,” he says, “which in turn frees the human
mind.”
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