Best Practices for Prototyping

31 08 2008

A few lessons learned regarding prototyping appear below.

  • Limit the scope: Limit the functional scope as well as the data scope of each prototype iteration to a specific subset of the application. This helps to focus the business people on one small piece of their overall requirements. They can learn about the capabilities and limitations of the new environment without getting bogged down with the complexities of the whole development effort. It is also a good general training indoctrination in how to use the new technology and the new application.

  • Understand database requirements early: The prototype will help the database administrator understand the access path requirements to the BI target databases, the reporting dimensions needed for application development with online analytical processing (OLAP) tools, the levels of aggregation and summarization needed, and what type of data is usually accessed together. The database administrator will be able to start making some database design decisions, such as how to cluster tables and where to place the data sets. The database administrator will also get a sense of the performance expectations and the anticipated size of the databases.

  • Choose the right data: Carefully select sample data for the prototype. The sample data set should be a meaningful representation of the source data so that all functions and features of the prototype can be tested. Keep the sample data set small so as not to spend too much time on loading and testing. Try to select clean data for the prototype. You do not want to have your prototype results tarnished because of dirty data. You also do not want to take the time to cleanse data while creating the prototype unless the purpose of the prototype is to test your transformation logic or the transformation functionality of an ETL tool or a data-cleansing tool.

  • Test tool usability: Test the usability of the access and analysis tools. Make sure the query tools are easy to use and do not intimidate the business people who need to use them. Test the features of the report writer on one of the more complicated reports. Give the business people hands-on experience with the OLAP tool. Although multidimensional analysis is relatively intuitive for most business people, the capability of dynamically drilling down and rolling up with a tool is still a new experience for many.

  • Involve the business people: Test the prototype with more than one business person. Try it with a single business person first, then add more business people from different business units or departments. Be sure to measure the performance of the prototype as you add more people. Observe the business people while they use the prototype. You will be able to see how they react to the prototype when you test it with them. Address any difficulties or misgivings immediately so that the problems do not become roadblocks during application development.

taken from: Business Intelligence Roadmap: The Complete Project Lifecycle for Decision-Support Applications



Phase III: Accelerating the Development Project

29 08 2008

From the time Uchiyamada agreed to develop a hybrid concept vehicle in November 1994 until the deadline for the auto show in October 1995, there was less than a year to develop at least a workable hybrid engine and the vehicle itself. With extreme time pressure, the temptation would be to make a very fast decision on the hybrid technology and get to work on it immediately. Instead the team reexamined all its options with painstaking thoroughness (illustrating Principle 13). They used a “set-based” approach, considering 80 hybrid types and systematically eliminating engines that did not meet the requirement, narrowing it down to 10 types. The team carefully considered the merits of each of these and then selected the best four. Each of these four types was then evaluated carefully through computer simulation. Based on these results, they were confident enough to propose one alternative to the G21 team in May 1995, just six months later.

Up to this point, the focus was on concept development and research into alternative technologies. Now there was a clear direction for the program and technology to build the first mass-production hybrid vehicle. Toyota’s board could approve an actual budget, human resources, and a rough timeline. In June 1995, the Prius became an official development project. Since there was a great deal of new product technology as well as the task of developing a new manufacturing system, they developed a three-year plan. The first year would focus on developing a complete prototype. The second year would focus on working out the details through thorough research. The third year would focus on finalizing the production version and production preparation. Based on their best analysis, a stretch tar get of starting actual production the end of 1998 was forecast, with some cushion if needed to delay this until early 1999. They were very proud of their aggressive schedule.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



The Hybrid Gets a Push from the Top

27 08 2008

At this point in 1994, the team still had rejected the notion of a hybrid engine. It was considered too new and risky technology. In September 1994, the team met with Executive VP Akihiro Wada and Managing Director Masanao Shiomi and the hybrid technology came up, but no conclusion was reached. The G21 group was given an additional task besides the continued development of the G21. They were asked to present the G21 as Toyota’s concept vehicle for the Tokyo auto show in October 1995. This meant they had just a year to develop what would become the showcase product of the auto show.

When they met with Wada in November 1994, he casually said, “By the way, your group is also working on the new concept car for the Motor Show, right? We recently have decided to develop that concept as a hybrid vehicle. That way, it would be easy to explain its fuel economy” (Itazaki, 1999). Shortly after this, in another meeting with Wada and Shiomi near the end of 1994, the bar was set even higher. It seems they concluded a 50 percent fuel economy improvement was not enough for a 21st-century car. They wanted double the current fuel economy. Uchiyamada protested that this would be impossible with current engine technology, to which they replied, “Since you are already developing a hybrid vehicle for the Motor Show, there is no reason not to use a hybrid for the production model” (Itazaki, 1999).

It then became apparent to the team what these two executives were trying to do. They did not want to come out and order the team to make a hybrid. Instead, they warmed them up by requesting a hybrid that did not have to be a production model for the auto show. They then led them to the natural conclusion that a true 21st-century car had to have breakthrough fuel economy and thus a hybrid seemed the only practical alternative. Though this approach appears to go against the general spirit of Principle 8, Use only reliable, thoroughly tested technology that serves your people and processes, Toyota always wants to consider every new technology “thoroughly” and adapt it when it is appropriate. And the 21st-century car was about developing a breakthrough. At the time, the hybrid system already was a thoroughly considered technology. What was different for Toyota was that this technology hadn’t yet been proven on a mass production basis. So, when Uchiyamada took up the challenge, he got one important concession from management: that he could select the finest engineers available within the company to work on the hybrid system.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



An Unlikely Chief Engineer Invents a New Approach to Car Development

25 08 2008

The next step was to develop a more detailed blueprint for the vehicle. High-level executives pondered who should lead the effort and settled on the unlikely choice of Takeshi Uchiyamada as the chief engineer. Uchiyamada hadn’t been groomed to be a chief engineer and never even aspired to this role. His technical background was in test engineering and he had never worked in vehicle design. He had been assigned to “technical administration” and in fact led the reorganization of Toyota’s product development organization into “vehicle development centers,” the largest reorganization in its history. His intention after working in technical administration was to go back to research. Yet, here he was tagged by high-level executives to lead this program blessed by the chairman of the company.

While on the surface Toyota’s decision to appoint Uchiyamada as chief engineer might at first glance seem hasty and illogical, in fact it followed Principle 13: Make decisions slowly by consensus, thoroughly considering all options; implement rapidly (nemawashi). In fact, Uchiyamada was uniquely qualified for the task for several reasons. First, this was the first project in decades that involved truly breakthrough technology and would need a level of research support uncharacteristic of most development projects. Uchiyamada came from research. While he was not a design engineer, he did love cars, had a very deep technical engineering background, and his father had been the chief engineer for the Crown—a flagship Toyota vehicle—so it was in his blood. Second, the project was not housed in one vehicle center and would require someone who had an excellent understanding of the new organization to marshal resources, which Uchiyamada possessed, having been one of the chief architects of the new, recently implemented organization structure. Third, a central purpose of the project was to develop a new approach to vehicle development. Someone who had been raised under the old system to be a chief engineer could be blinded by the current system. Someone with proven organizational design skills was needed to take a fresh look.

No one was more surprised by this decision than Uchiyamada. As he explained to me:

As a chief engineer, if there are supplier problems it is the responsibility to visit the supplier and check the line and solve the problems. I did not even know what I was looking for to know what to do in many cases …. One of the personifications of the chief engineer is that they know everything, so even when developing different parts of the vehicle you know where the bolts can go together as well as what the customer wants.

So what could Uchiyamada do, since he did not “know everything”? He surrounded himself with a cross-functional team of experts and relied on the team.

One of the most important results of the Prius project from an organizational design perspective was the creation of the obeya system of vehicle development, which is now the new standard for Toyota. Obeya means “big room.” It is like the control room. In the old vehicle development system, the chief engineer traveled about, meeting with people as needed to coordinate the program. For the Prius, Uchiyamada gathered a group of experts in the “big room” to review the progress of the program and discuss key decisions. The project team found a room outside the fray of normal day-to-day affairs, which became known for housing a weird, top-secret group (G21 project) endorsed by top management. During the development process, Uchiyamada documented in real time the experience of designing a new breakthrough design from scratch. This led to a very confidential 200-page document that can be reviewed only with special high-level permission. Toyota executives achieved their goal of reinventing the company’s design process by intentionally selecting a non-expert chief engineer.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



The Prius Blueprint

23 08 2008

Risuke Kubochi, General Manager of General Engineering, stepped forward and agreed to lead the effort. He was formerly the chief engineer of Celica. He had a reputation for being aggressive and not terribly friendly, but strongly determined to accomplish any task he undertook. Kubochi personally selected 10 middle managers to work on his team. This working-level committee reported directly to a high-level committee of Toyota board members, informally known as kenjinkai (“committee of wise men”), that met weekly. The project had the highest-level executive sponsors from the very beginning.

At first the G21 project was not defined as a hybrid vehicle project. There were two goals:

  1. Develop a new method for manufacturing cars for the 21st century.

  2. Develop a new method of developing cars for the 21st century.

The committee’s job was simply to identify the general concept, and it saw the first task as mainly a packaging issue—how to minimize vehicle size, yet maximize interior space. It also set a target for fuel economy. The then current engine in a basic Corolla got 30.8 mpg and the target was set at 50 percent more, 47.5 mpg. This was thought to be a groundbreaking target. Although the committee was aware of a hybrid engine project, they assumed it would not be ready in time for the G21. The committee members all had full-time jobs apart from the G21 and at first met weekly.

The committee began meeting in September 1993 and had just three months to present their concept to a high-level executive committee. About 30 people, including Executive VP Kimbara and member of the board Masumi Konishi, attended the meeting. Obviously three months was too short to build an actual prototype. But the committee was not satisfied simply presenting ideas, so they developed a half-scale blueprint for the vehicle that took up a good part of a wall.

One of the working-level members that Kubochi had selected was Sateshi Ogiso, who would be the only person who stayed with the Prius until its actual launch years later. The G21 as a clean sheet was a dream project for a young engineer. Ogiso had been charged with organizing the committee meetings and thus was given a kind of leadership role. At the design review session, Ogiso was about to prompt Kubochi to begin the presentation, but was stunned when Kubochi preempted him with “Ogiso, I would like you to make the report.” Ogiso was just a 32-year-old youngster who had only recently made “engineer-in-charge.” He quickly recognized that he had been tricked, which wasn’t the first time that Kubochi had put him on the spot in order to cultivate his leadership ability. But he did an excellent job of giving the report, which was very favorably received by the executive committee. The requirements for the vehicle were identified as:

  1. Roomy cabin space, achieved through maximizing the length of the wheelbase.

  2. A relatively high seat position, to facilitate getting in and out of the car.

  3. An aerodynamic exterior, with a 1500 mm height, a little less than a minivan.

  4. A fuel economy of 20 kilometers per liter (47.5 mpg).

  5. A small horizontally placed engine with a continuously variable automatic transmission (which improves fuel efficiency).

Phase I of this project illustrates three Toyota Way principles.

  1. Principle 9. Grow leaders who thoroughly understand the work, live the philosophy, and teach it to others. We see how involved high-level executives are in a very abstract and future-oriented project that is seen as central to the future of the company—with active sponsorship, including weekly meetings with the study group.

  2. Principle 10. Develop exceptional people and teams who follow your company’s philosophy. We see how some of the best people step up to a challenging project that is seen as important to the company and then work extremely hard after hours to meet aggressive deadlines. They had three months as an extracurricular activity to do extensive research and develop a vision for the project. We also get a glimpse of how leaders at Toyota develop young people. Kubochi could have taken credit for leading this effort, but it was more important to provide a life lesson to Ogiso, who later reflected that “by being placed in the critical situation to give the presentation, I learned to organize issues in my head as I spoke, and acquired a sense of self-confidence” (Itazaki, 1999).

  3. Principle 12. Go and see for yourself to thoroughly understand the situation (genchi genbutsu). The team felt uncomfortable presenting only abstract concepts so short of building an actual model, they did the next best thing—they developed a half-size blueprint so the executives could picture the actual vehicle.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



Achieving No-Compromise Objectives

21 08 2008

Since so much of the success of Lexus depended on achieving these breakthrough performance objectives for the engine, and since this depended so heavily on production engineering, Suzuki presented a number of strict requirements to the engine production engineers, whose response was largely discouraging. Their first reaction was that you cannot make parts that are more precise than the tolerances of the precision instruments you’re using to make them. At the time, Toyota had the most precise instruments in the world for machining engine parts (e.g., high-precision machine tools for machining castings into crankshafts, pistons, etc.). And so Suzuki said, “Oh, OK, I see your point.” But backing away from these breakthrough performance objects would mean the end of his “dream car.” So he turned to his superiors for help and was able to get them formed into a Flagship Quality Committee (The “FQ Committee”).

This committee was composed of head executives representing three divisions in Toyota—R&D, production engineering, and the manufacturing plant. The person who at that time was in charge of production engineering was Akira Takahashi. He told Suzuki, “Look, Toyota’s already making products that are exceptionally high quality and to bring in more precise equipment to meet the accuracy and precision demands you’re asking is out of control, it’s ridiculous. You’re asking too much.” Not willing to give up, Suzuki said, “OK, I’ll tell you what. Try to make one of these high-precision products, an engine or transmission, and if we can’t do that, if that doesn’t work out, I’ll quit. I will give up on my request.”

Takahashi agreed he could make one of anything as long as it didn’t have to be in mass production. So he put together a team of his best engine engineers and they developed one high-precision engine that met Suzuki’s tight specifications. It was a hand-built engine and, when it was tested in an existing vehicle, there was remarkably little vibration with extremely good fuel economy. The team of engineers and Takahashi got very excited and they immediately began discussing how they could replicate this with mass production equipment. By working with Takahashi and going to his superiors and creating the FQ Committee, Suzuki was in a very clever way practicing Principle 13: Make decisions slowly by consensus, thoroughly considering all options; implement rapidly (nemawashi). The nemawashi part of this principle is to take the time to build consensus across and up and down the organization. By asking the engineers to build an actual engine, he was using the Toyota propensity for genchi genbutsu (Principle 12: Go and see for yourself to thoroughly understand the situation). In this case, he chose to work on an actual engine instead of speculating about its viability based on theoretical arguments.

As Suzuki explained:

The people at each one of these different departments, R&D, production engineering, and so on and so forth are looking toward the policy of their superiors to see how to act, and naturally once I was able to bring Mr. Takahashi from production engineering over to my side, things became much easier to do. So there were various troubles and problems along the way, however, every time that happened I would say thousands of times, tens of thousands of times, “counter measures at the source, follow the concept of ‘this yet that.’” The end result was not just my effort alone, but all the people along the way who originally opposed what I was doing, and who all came around and were able to achieve all these targets that I had set in the first place.

Another key engineering feat was to cut down on wind noises. The engineers would attach many tiny microphones to the window at the clay model stage, and then check to see if they had achieved a quiet noise level. The “yet” challenge was trying to balance aerodynamics with styling. If you try to adopt elegant styling, you tend to bring down the aerodynamic efficiency. On the other hand, if you have good aerodynamic efficiency, styling will suffer. Styling developed a bunch of clay models to achieve the distinctive and refined appearance Suzuki was after and the stylists were obviously very proud of them. Unfortunately, none of them passed the stringent aerodynamics test. So what do you do?

Suzuki’s approach, as with the engine, was to find the most talented engineers, challenge them with the goal, and ask them to try real things rather than just analyze and theorize. So he found an exceptional aerodynamics engineer and, choosing a clay model from the styling studio, challenged him to modify the design until it achieved the correct aerodynamic results. The aerodynamics engineer said, “I will take that clay model and reach the goals that you want—0.28 on the coefficient of drag.” The aerodynamics engineer decided to physically cut and modify the clay model himself, a job normally done by the modeler, requiring several iterations with a lot of verbal discussion between the modeler and the engineer. He cut here and there and finally ended up with a vehicle that was aerodynamically matched to the target. It looked terrible. He had lost all the fine styling features of the designers. But through this process he was able to understand the aerodynamic characteristics much more quickly and deeply than if he had been giving verbal instructions to the clay modelers and waiting for the revised models.

Through this hands-on experience, he uncovered reference points that he could feed to the stylists to simultaneously improve aerodynamic performance while achieving excellent styling. By deciding to personally cut the clay, which Suzuki encouraged, the aerodynamics engineer sped up the development of Lexus and got a deeper understanding of the aerodynamics. This was another example of Principle 12 (genchi genbutsu).

As a result of Suzuki’s engineering approach of achieving no-compromise objectives, the Lexus program took off and accomplished exactly what he wanted—a smart design and a very smooth ride. The feel of the ride at 100 kph and 160 kph was practically the same, despite the fact that you were traveling 1.6 times faster. To say the least, the consumer was impressed, and it showed in the numbers sold. At the time of the Lexus launch, Mercedes-Benz’s three models (300E, 420SE, 560SEL) had no rival in the U.S. market. But Lexus, with only one model, was able to sell, in one year, 2.7 times the number of all three of those well-established Mercedes combined. As of 2002, the Lexus was the best-selling luxury car in the United States.

The creation of the Lexus spawned an entirely new luxury division of Toyota and placed their image in the elite of the luxury market—the original goal of visionary Togo. It also gave rise to a new spirit of innovation in Toyota’s engineering. When Toyota started out in the automobile business, the engineers had no choice but to be innovative. As Toyota became a global powerhouse with clearly delineated product families, its thousands of engineers became specialists tweaking the next Crown and the next Camry.[1]

Lexus broke the behavioral mold and engineers who had known only the conservative, risk-averse Toyota suddenly were working on a bold, new, challenging project. This renewed spirit would carry over into an entirely new project, with new objectives and challenges. Toyota was about to reinvent its vehicle development process with the Prius.

[1]In fact, the innovative enthusiasm was almost too contagious. At some point, the vehicle content of the Camry and other cars rose to the point that costs got out of control. Toyota chief engineers had to be reined in and design appropriate levels of content while relying more on standardized parts to cut costs. This was one benefit of the later reorganization of Toyota into vehicle centers with vehicle center heads, as discussed in the next post. It is also an example of how Toyota is a learning organization.

Taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



Lexus: A New Car, a New Division by the Michael Jordan of Chief Engineers

19 08 2008

Yukiyasu Togo was a successful Toyota executive in charge of Toyota Motor Sales, USA, in Southern California. His friends and associates were also well-to-do executives. But few would consider buying a Toyota. Mercedes and BMW were more their style. This bothered Togo. He was a fighter and not willing to accept being second-class. Making high-quality, fuel-efficient, and economical cars was fine, but he saw no reason why Toyota could not also make luxury vehicles competing with the best in the world. “Maybe what we need is a luxurious car that would create a new image, a car of high quality, perhaps even up-market of the Mercedes-Benz” (as quoted in Reingold, 1999).

To do this, Togo realized Toyota would need a new sales channel and name. He took his idea to management. At first he faced resistance. At Toyota this was not unusual. Much of Toyota’s success derives from incremental improvements year in and year out—part of that conservative mindset. Building a luxury car meant breaking the mold from sturdy and reliable but basic Japanese built cars to competing with the kings of luxury in Europe. Also the development of a luxury car would mean simultaneously developing a vehicle and a brand: a car company within a car company. But after some debate it was clear that Toyota was not living up to its challenge of staying a step ahead of trends in the market and the concept for the Lexus was born.

Such an effort could not be entrusted to just anybody. In this case, the task was given to one of the best and most revered chief engineers in Toyota’s history, Ichiro Suzuki, who was introduced to me as the “Michael Jordan” of chief engineers and a “legend” within Toyota. His comments in this chapter are from an interview I had with him at the Toyota Technical Center in Ann Arbor, Michigan, in April 2002, just a few months away from “real” retirement. Toyota had called him out of retirement to act as an “Executive Advisory Engineer.” Basically, he was making one last tour of duty to teach the younger generation what it took to be an excellent engineer at Toyota. (Principle 9, Grow leaders who thoroughly understand the work, live the philosophy, and teach it to others.)

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



Traditional Process Improvement vs. Lean Improvement

17 08 2008

The traditional approach to process improvement focuses on identifying local efficiencies—“Go to the equipment, the value-added processes, and improve uptime, or make it cycle faster, or replace the person with automated equipment.” The result might be a significant percent improvement for that individual process, but have little impact on the overall value stream. This is especially true because in most processes there are relatively few value-added steps, so improving those value-added steps will not amount to much. Without lean thinking, most people can’t see the huge opportunities for reducing waste by getting rid of or shrinking non-value-added steps.

In a lean improvement initiative, most of the progress comes because a large number of non-value-added steps are squeezed out. In the process, the value-added time is also reduced. We can see this most vividly by taking a process like the nut-making example and creating a one-piece-flow cell.

In lean manufacturing, a cell consists of a close arrangement of the people, machines, or workstations in a processing sequence. You create cells to facilitate one-piece flow of a product or service, through various operations, for example, welding, assembly, packing, one unit at a time, at a rate determined by the needs of the customer and with the least amount of delay and waiting.

Take the case of the nut. If you line up the processes needed to create it in a cell and then pass the nut or very small lots of nuts from one operation to another in a one-piece flow, what once took weeks to complete can now be done in hours. And this case is not unusual. The magic of making huge gains in productivity and quality and big reductions in inventory, space, and lead time through one-piece flow has been demonstrated over and over in companies throughout the world. It always seems miraculous and the results are always the same. This is why the one-piece-flow cell is the ultimate in lean production. It has eliminated most of Toyota’s eight kinds of waste.

In fact, the ultimate goal of lean manufacturing is to apply the ideal of one-piece flow to all business operations, from product design to launch, order taking, and physical production. Anyone I know who has experienced the power of lean thinking becomes a zealot and wants to rid the world of waste, applying it to every process, from administrative to engineering. But I caution that, as with every other tool or process, the answer is not to blindly apply it by putting cells everywhere.

For example, the nut plant had created a cell for cutting and tapping. Unfortunately, they also bought very expensive and complex computerized equipment. The equipment was broken a lot of the time, creating delays. And the nuts still had to leave the cell for heat-treating—taking weeks before they came back. Inventory still piled up. The “lean cell” became a joke to the shop-floor workers who could see the waste—a serious setback to the lean improvement process.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



Creating the Manufacturing System That Changed the World

15 08 2008

In the 1950s, Ohno returned to the place he understood best, the shop floor, and went to work to change the rules of the game. He did not have a big consulting firm, Post-it® notes, or PowerPoint to reinvent his business processes. He could not install an ERP system or use the Internet to make information move at the speed of light. But he was armed with his shop-floor knowledge, dedicated engineers, managers, and workers who would give their all to help the company succeed. With this he began his many “hands-on” journeys through Toyota’s few factories, applying the principles of jidoka and one-piece flow. Over years and then decades of practice, he had come up with the new Toyota Production System.[3] Of course, Ohno and his team did not do this alone.

Along with the lessons of Henry Ford, TPS borrowed many of its ideas from the U.S. One very important idea was the concept of the “pull system,” which was inspired by American supermarkets. In any well-run supermarket, individual items are replenished as each item begins to run low on the shelf. That is, material replenishment is initiated by consumption. Applied to a shop floor, it means that Step 1 in a process shouldn’t make (replenish) its parts until the next process after it (Step 2) uses up its original supply of parts from Step 1 (that is down to a small amount of “safety stock”). In TPS, when Step 2 is down to a small amount of safety stock, this triggers a signal to Step 1 asking it for more parts.

This is similar to what happens when you fill the gas tank in your car. As in “Step 2,” your car signals a need for more fuel when the gauge tells you that fuel is low. Then you go to the gas station, Step 1, to refill. It would be foolish to fill your gas tank when you’re not low on gas, but the equivalent of this—overproduction—happens all the time in mass production. At Toyota every step of every manufacturing process has the equivalent of a “gas gauge” built in, (called kanban), to signal to the previous step when its parts need to be replenished. This creates “pull” which continues cascading backwards to the beginning of the manufacturing cycle. In contrast, most businesses use processes that are filled with waste, because work in Step 1 is performed in large batches before it is needed by Step 2. This “work in process” must then be stored and tracked and maintained until needed by step 2—a waste of many resources. Without this pull system, just-in-time (JIT), one of the two pillars of TPS (the other is jidoka, built-in quality), would never have evolved.

JIT is a set of principles, tools, and techniques that allows a company to produce and deliver products in small quantities, with short lead times, to meet specific customer needs. Simply put, JIT delivers the right items at the right time in the right amounts. The power of JIT is that it allows you to be responsive to the day-by-day shifts in customer demand, which was exactly what Toyota needed all along.

Toyota also took to heart the teachings of the American quality pioneer, W. Edwards Deming. He gave U.S. quality and productivity seminars in Japan and taught that, in a typical business system, meeting and exceeding the customers’ requirements is the task of everyone within an organization. And he dramatically broadened the definition of “customer” to include both internal and external customers. Each person or step in a production line or business process was to be treated as a “customer” and to be supplied with exactly what was needed, at the exact time needed. This was the origin of Deming’s principle, “the next process is the customer.” The Japanese phrase for this, atokotei wa o-kyakusama, became one of the most significant expressions in JIT, because in a pull system it means the preceding process must always do what the subsequent process says. Otherwise JIT won’t work.

Deming also encouraged the Japanese to adopt a systematic approach to problem solving, which later became known as the Deming Cycle or Plan-Do-Check-Act (PDCA) Cycle, a cornerstone of continuous improvement. The Japanese term for continuous improvement is kaizen and is the process of making incremental improvements, no matter how small, and achieving the lean goal of eliminating all waste that adds cost without adding to value.[4] Kaizen teaches individuals skills for working effectively in small groups, solving problems, documenting and improving processes, collecting and analyzing data, and self-managing within a peer group. It pushes the decision making (or proposal making) down to the workers and requires open discussion and a group consensus before implementing any decisions. Kaizen is a total philosophy that strives for perfection and sustains TPS on a daily basis.

When Ohno and his team emerged from the shop floor with a new manufacturing system, it wasn’t just for one company in a particular market and culture. What they had created was a new paradigm in manufacturing or service delivery—a new way of seeing, understanding, and interpreting what is happening in a production process, that could propel them beyond the mass production system.

By the 1960s, TPS was a powerful philosophy that all types of businesses and processes could learn to use, but this would take a while. Toyota did take the first steps to spread “lean” by diligently teaching the principles of TPS to their key suppliers. This moved its isolated lean manufacturing plants toward a total lean extended enterprise—when everyone in the supply chain is practicing the same TPS principles. A powerful business model indeed! Still, the power of TPS was mostly unknown outside of Toyota and its affiliated suppliers until the first oil shock of 1973 that sent the world into a global recession, with Japan among the hardest hit. Japanese industry went into a tailspin and the name of the game was survival. But the Japanese government began to notice when Toyota went into the red for less time than other companies and came back to profitability faster. The Japanese government took the initiative to launch seminars on TPS, even though it understood only a fraction of what made Toyota tick.

In the early ’80s when I visited Japan, it was my experience that as you moved out of Toyota City and Toyota’s group of affiliates to other Japanese companies, the application of TPS principles quickly became watered down and weakened. It would still be a while before the world would understand the Toyota Way and the new paradigm of manufacturing.

Part of the problem was that mass production after World War II focused on cost, cost, cost. “Make bigger machines and through economies of scale drive down cost.” “Automate to replace people if it can be cost justified.” This kind of thinking ruled the manufacturing world until the 1980s. Then the business world got the quality religion from Deming, Joseph Juran, Kaoru Ishikawa, and other quality gurus. It learned that focusing on quality actually reduced cost more than focusing only on cost. Finally, in the 1990s, through the work of MIT’s Auto Industry Program and the bestseller based on its research, The Machine That Changed the World (Womack, Jones, Roos, 1991), the world manufacturing community discovered “lean production”—the authors’ term for what Toyota had learned decades earlier through focusing on speed in the supply chain: shortening lead time by eliminating waste in each step of a process leads to best quality and lowest cost, while improving safety and morale.

[3]Still one of the best and surprisingly readable overviews of the Toyota Production System is Taiichi Ohno’s own book, Toyota Production System: Beyond Large-Scale Production (Portland, OR: Productivity Press, 1988). Ohno gives a very personalized account of the system in a story fashion.

[4]Actually kaizen means “change for the better” and can refer to very large changes or small, incremental changes. Because Western firms tend to focus on breakthrough innovation and are weak at continuously improving in small amounts, this has been the focus of teaching kaizen to Western firms. Sometimes kaikaiku is used to refer to major, revolutionary changes.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer



One-Piece Flow, a Core Principle

13 08 2008

When Eiji Toyoda and his managers took their 12-week study tour of U.S plants in 1950, they were expecting to be dazzled by their manufacturing progress. Instead they were surprised that the development of mass production techniques hadn’t changed much since the 1930s. In fact, the production system had many inherent flaws. What they saw was lots of equipment making large amounts of products that were stored in inventory, only to be later moved to another department where big equipment processed the product, and so on to the next step. They saw how these discrete process steps were based on large volumes, with interruptions between these steps causing large amounts of material to sit in inventory and wait. They saw the high cost of the equipment and its so-called efficiency in reducing the cost per piece, with workers keeping busy by keeping the equipment busy. They looked at traditional accounting measures that rewarded managers who cranked out lots of parts and kept machines and workers busy, resulting in a lot of overproduction and a very uneven flow, with defects hidden in these large batches that could go undiscovered for weeks. Entire workplaces were disorganized and out of control. With big forklift trucks moving mountains of materials everywhere, the factories often looked more like warehouses. To say the least, they were not impressed. In fact, they saw an opportunity to catch up.

Fortunately for Ohno, his assignment from Eiji Toyoda to “catch up with Ford’s productivity” didn’t mean competing head-on with Ford. He just had to focus on improving Toyota’s manufacturing within the protected Japanese market—a daunting assignment nonetheless. So Ohno did what any good manager would have done in his situation: he benchmarked the competition through further visits to the U.S. He also studied Ford’s book, Today and Tomorrow. After all, one of the major components that Ohno believed Toyota needed to master was continuous flow and the best example of that at the time was Ford’s moving assembly line. Henry Ford had broken the tradition of craft production by devising a new mass production paradigm to fill the needs of the early 20th century. A key enabler of mass production’s success was the development of precision machine tools and interchangeable parts (Womack, Jones, Roos, 1991). Using principles from the scientific management movement pioneered by Frederick Taylor, Ford also relied heavily on time studies, very specialized tasks for workers, and a separation between the planning done by engineers and the work performed by workers.

In his book Ford also preached the importance of creating continuous material flow throughout the manufacturing process, standardizing processes, and eliminating waste. But while he preached it, his company didn’t always practice it. His company turned out millions of black Model T’s and later Model A’s using wasteful batch production methods that built up huge banks of work-in-process inventory throughout the value chain, pushing product onto the next stage of production (Womack, Jones, Roos, 1991). Toyota saw this as an inherent flaw in Ford’s mass production system. Toyota did not have the luxury of creating waste, it lacked warehouse and factory space and money, and it didn’t produce large volumes of just one type of vehicle. But it determined it could use Ford’s original idea of continuous material flow (as illustrated by the assembly line) to develop a system of one-piece flow that flexibly changed according to customer demand and was efficient at the same time. Flexibility required marshaling the ingenuity of the workers to continually improve processes.

taken from; The Toyota Way:14 Management Principles from the World’s Greatest Manufacturer