by Text 100
Chapter 4 Beyond the Innovation Triangle
The name Yamato has been elevated to a brand
A major project for the Yamato lab took place from the end of 2010 to January of the following year: the lab was moved from its long-time home in Yamato City, which gave it its name, to the Minato Mirai area in Yokohama, also in Kanagawa Prefecture. In January 2011, the Yokohama office, called Yamato Labs, opened.
The Yamato office continued being used even after the transfer of the PC business from IBM to Lenovo, but Lenovo later decided to establish its own original base, and it moved forward with the relocation when the Yamato lab’s lease contract came up for renewal.
We gave a lot of consideration to the selection of our next location. The first condition was that it be within a range that would not force employees to move houses. So we went to look at properties from Atsugi to Yokohama. The second and third conditions, or opinions, that we took into account were that it had to be a quiet location suitable for research, and that it had to be a location that would allow employees to stay in touch with the outside world. The Yamato Office location had indeed been quiet, but it felt a little isolated. For a PC company, however, this last condition of staying in touch with the outside world is an important one. Ultimately this led us to select the current Minato Mirai location, taking into account costs and other factors, of course. I think that Minato Mirai is a location that allows us to get a sense of the world.
Next, there was the issue of what to name the lab. Prior to the move, I gathered ten members of the leadership team for a meeting to discuss this. Naturally, everybody felt attached to the name “Yamato.” Some even insisted on it. However, when asked whether we should keep the same name even after moving to the new location, the members were approximately equally divided between those who wanted to retain the old name, and those who thought that Yokohama Lab would be fine. At this point, I suggested that this site being a Lenovo asset, we should consult Lenovo management. The conclusion they arrived at was that the name would continue to be “Yamato Development Laboratory.”
The main factors behind this decision were the opinions of our customers and the sales teams dealing with customers, as well as the opinions of our partner companies. It turned out that the European sales teams in particular had been describing our offerings as “new products developed by the Yamato lab,” without using the Lenovo name. The ThinkPad had become a “Yamato brand” rather than an IBM or a Lenovo brand. Therefore, they argued, suddenly changing that name (= brand) would present problems. Many of our corporate partners also indicated that they’d like us to stay with the Yamato name. In fact, once we informed everybody about our decision to retain Yamato as our name, we received a lot of happy feedback.
For example, a Taiwanese ODM (original design manufacturer, a company that designs and manufactures products branded by another firm) told us that “ever since we started making notebook PCs, we looked up to Yamato. And now we are finally working together. Do you really want to change a name charged with so much significance?”
We were quite businesslike ourselves. Not a few people voiced opinions such as “OK, make it Yokohama already” and “Let’s not be bound by the past and go with the future!” But as time passed, we received many opinions from both inside and outside the company that we should retain the “Yamato” name. This made us realize that this name resonated with our customers, the industry, and our partners to a greater degree than we had thought.
The word “Yamato” comes from the city of Yamato. However, this word also happens to signify Japan, and there appear to be people in whose minds the two meanings overlap. I believe that not a few such persons can also be found among journalists. I myself hadn’t given this much thought. However, when considering whether to continue using “Yamato,” this was one of the reasons lined up in favor of doing so. I remember saying, “by the way, Yamato means Japan,” but this was just a justification.
When the Fujisawa Development Laboratory moved to Yamato City, the lab’s name was changed to the Yamato Development Laboratory. However, the Yamato lab having given birth to and nurtured the ThinkPad, the ThinkPad brand and Yamato have become one. Moreover, as the result of the entire Yamato lab transferring over to Lenovo from IBM, the “Yamato” name has become a symbol. Thus, the Yamato Office (Yamato Development Laboratory) became the Yokohama Office (Yamato Development Laboratory).
Evidently Yamato had become more of a symbol than I had recognized, it was more than just a place name, it had become a label in its own right.
There is more to the story. Unknown to everybody, I myself felt some scruples. The Yamato lab had not been created and expanded by us alone. It started out as the Yamato lab of IBM, and I felt somewhat hesitant about taking that name with us. To such a point that I imagined with some dread being angrily asked “What makes you think you have the right?!”
And yet I received numerous comments from former Yamato members from IBM’s time
through New Year’s cards, Facebook, and so on, saying things such as “I’m sad that the lab will disappear. But learning that the name will survive made me happy. It’s really great that our name will live on. Thank you!” I was really glad to be told so by IBM people. It may just be that people our decision made angry kept quiet, but we received a lot of unexpected support. The Yamato lab has evolved, and of course it will continue to do so, but basic elements, including its name and identity, have remained unchanged.
The real face of a global company
In January 2011, I was appointed CDO (Chief Development Officer), a post that oversees Lenovo’s worldwide development activities, from my previous post as Yamato Development Laboratory Director and Vice President (Lenovo Japan). The directorship of Yamato Development Laboratory was taken on by Soichi Yokota, the Managing Officer who had worked with me on developing the ThinkPad since the IBM days.
Lenovo has three R&D bases. One is the Yamato lab in Yokohama. Another one is the R&D Center in Raleigh, North Carolina, and then there is the R&D Center in Beijing, China. Let me explain a bit about Lenovo as a company. The Lenovo Group, which has headquarters in Raleigh, North Carolina, and Beijing, is a multinational company of Chinese origin. It employs some 27,000 people worldwide (as of September 2011) and markets products in more than 160 countries.
In 1984, 11 computer development specialists established a company in a small one-story house with 200,000 yuan (25,000 U.S. dollars), with the goal of bringing the benefits of IT to the people of China. The company’s name was Legend. The company succeeded in joining China’s top companies in the field of consumer PCs in a short time. This was the first venture to introduce PCs to ordinary households in China. The company also developed a retail network all over China. At the same time, Legend introduced cards that converted English operating software to Chinese, and PCs that could connect to the Internet with the press of a button.
By 1994, just ten years later, the company was listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange, and four years after that, the company’s cumulative production of PCs surpassed one million units, making Legend China’s top PC vendor and a legend in both name and reality. Then in 2003, the company changed its brand name to Lenovo, and one year later, likewise changed the company’s name to Lenovo. By the way, the “Le” in Lenovo stands for “Legend,” and the “novo” means “new” in Latin. In 2004, the company’s share of the Chinese market exceeded twenty-five percent, and currently the company commands nearly a third of this market. In 2005, Lenovo acquired IBM’s PC business.
At present, in addition to its three R&D bases, Lenovo has manufacturing bases in China, Mexico, Poland, and India, as well as sales offices throughout the world.
As indicated by its dual headquarters in Beijing and the U.S., Lenovo, with its multinational management and employees, is very much a global company. Its operations are not concentrated in one location, as the company promotes world sourcing, using the best-suited resources in the mo
st appropriate locations on a global level.
The Yamato lab is therefore an extremely independent organization. Both the Yamato lab and the Raleigh R&D center were originally IBM R&D centers. The Beijing facility has of course been Lenovo’s R&D base from the beginning. As a result, following its acquisition of IBM’s PC business, Lenovo has had three R&D bases.
These three bases each have distinct roles. The role of the Yamato lab is naturally to develop the ThinkPad Series. Raleigh is in charge of software and peripheral development, and Beijing is in charge of developing consumer PCs centered on the IdeaPad Series, as well as desktop PCs.
As a large number of major software vendors, such as Microsoft, are based in the U.S., having an R&D center in the U.S. is advantageous for joint development and negotiations. Frequently the Yamato lab loads software developed in the U.S. in products in Japan. By exploiting the time difference between the two countries, we have also a round-the-clock operation cycle whereby software developed in the U.S. gets tested in Japan, with feedback sent back to the U.S.
The Chinese market, and particularly the consumer PC market, is growing at a tremendous rate, and thus the R&D center in China holds an important position in terms of ensuring the growth of Lenovo as a whole.
We call these three bases the “innovation triangle” and these three bases seem to have their roles solidly established, and to be carrying them out. However, these bases have not been placed strategically, as the triangle was formed as the result of historical developments. Consequently, the development bases do not have lateral ties between each other and do not produce a synergetic effect.
The term silo is sometimes used to refer to a system not capable of reciprocal interaction with other related systems, and this is very much the case here. The respective teams do not really try to see what the other teams are doing. Such a situation is not necessarily negative. It has the positive aspect of allowing faster decision-making, as each team can act independently without consulting the others. However, this does not necessarily result in consistency at the company level. It also makes it impossible to send out a message with a single voice. Moreover, waste in the form of duplicate development work may also result.
As CDO (Chief Development Officer), I have worked to strengthen cooperation across the entire company, not just at the Yamato lab, by drawing the entire innovation triangle more closely together, and promoting mutual collaboration and lateral ties that span the entire development system.
Energizing the innovation triangle: Making the Yamato lab Lenovo’s main R&D site
While the ThinkPad is its core product, the Yamato lab will further strengthen its role as Lenovo’s main R&D site to assist in the development of Lenovo’s notebook PCs and disseminate the PC development know-how acquired under IBM. Reinforcing ties with the R&D centers in the U.S. and China will be required to this end.
Lenovo has something called Lenovo Technology Outlook. This is an activity that consists in engineers from the research, development and engineering divisions of the three R&D bases getting together once a year for in-depth discussions of future trends in user environments, business, and technology, and to decide what new technologies, functions, and responses will be needed. These discussions are then written up in a report.
This activity does not consist solely in predicting the future and determining future development vectors. The engineers of the three R&D bases also share their respective philosophies and know-how, and this serves as the foundation for stronger collaboration. I want to strengthen such activities and push strongly for the further reinforcement of engineers’ originality and ingenuity as well as partnerships.
Lenovo is developing the message that “the finest PCs can be born only from the finest engineers.” I believe this to be true. I have been telling engineers about the importance of sending out information on their own initiative. This being a business, it’s important that we align with marketers’ wishes. Their opinions are important too. However, I believe that as motivated engineers, we should not just wait to be asked and instead actively send out information about what we want to create or what should be created.
Formerly, the gap between the marketing and service departments and the development department at Japanese manufacturers was a problem, and such companies were hotbeds of development battles in which users were left out of the picture. The problem was that such development departments went out of control, without any coordination with the marketing and other departments. I of course cannot approve of development departments that do not know how to listen. Marketers are naturally trusted partners of the development department. However, engineers shouldn’t just passively wait for directions, but instead should actively release information and have the mettle to challenge things.
I believe that engineers are by nature extremely eager to provide information in the first place. Especially at the Yamato lab, everyone really loves PCs, and ThinkPads in particular, and they came to the lab as serious users. They all joined us because they wanted to participate in the development of ThinkPads. I think that skillfully harnessing this enthusiasm is a skill required in the leaders of the Yamato lab.
As CDO, it is my mission to spread the spirit, drive, and accumulated know-how of the Yamato lab throughout all of Lenovo, with a focus on the innovation triangle. I don’t think at all that it is presumptuous to think of the Yamato lab as the main site of this triangle.
One thing that needs to be accomplished first, though, is promoting understanding. From my own perspective, it wouldn’t do for me to just concentrate on the ThinkPad message. For example, if asked “What about the IdeaPad?” I should be able to give a clear answer on that subject. And not just as a spokesman—I should be able to explain things in my own words. But just being able to produce answers to specific questions is not enough. Consistency is required and answers must align well with our strategic portfolio. I used to communicate Yamato lab’s messages, but my position now requires me to communicate messages for Lenovo as a whole. For example, the IdeaPad differs from the ThinkPad in certain respects. I must be able to answer why they differ and why that is fine. In terms of functions, specifications, standards…. For example, if we used the same durability tests standards for all our PCs, they would all be the same PC. But of course, they’re all different. I must be able to provide such answers regarding consistency and legitimacy.
Leave the familiar to grow!
If we were to develop nothing but ThinkPads for the next ten years, the Yamato lab would probably lose all of its value.
The technologies cultivated for the ThinkPad are of absolute importance, but the lab must evolve into one that is capable of developing and using technologies for devices that nobody, including us, could conceive of at present.
We may also be called upon to help out with the development of the IdeaPad when its development staff sees this need arise. So far, we’ve sent about ten members to China, but I think that we will further strengthen such exchanges.
Naturally a framework such as “such-and-such department” or “such-and-such lab” is necessary for convenience’s sake, but above and beyond that, I want to achieve in-house globalization in the true sense of the word. Constant self-negation will be required in order to move beyond the innovation dilemma. In that sense, the ultimate such denial would be to renounce the (traditional) ThinkPad. Only the Yamato lab would do such a thing in such a proactive manner.
The next challenge for the Yamato lab’s engineers is to leave this familiar environment, this family-like lab, and to assert more firmly their position in the big field that is Lenovo. This will be beneficial for Lenovo, for the Yamato lab, and also for the own growth of the individuals involved.
At present, we work in a climate of mutual understanding and finely attuned to each other, so few words are needed. But if you go to a different group and want to properly incorporate your notions, your technologies, your ideas in a new product, you will have to
go through various steps, providing solid explanations and asserting your points through repeated discussion. That may be a major challenge. But even if your new workplace is ideal, and even if the organization is progressive and operates smoothly, you are likely to become the proverbial big frog in a small well if you remain stuck in your little corner. You might go stale, which is no good for anyone.
We have conducted personnel exchanges among the three R&D bases already, but this has not been done at the organizational level. For example, Yamato lab engineers are now eyeing changes in the allocation of work involving responsibilities for the development of other products besides the ThinkPad, as well as organization design changes. This is no easy challenge.
I also would like for other organizations within Lenovo to plan new projects that take advantage of the capabilities of Yamato lab engineers. I want the organization to achieve such scope. At any rate, I’m convinced that growing complacent in the current environment is not something that we can afford.
I have no reason to worry in this regard—our current engineers are all much hardier than I and my generation. Most of those suddenly called upon to be stationed in China to train new local employees there go without hesitation. They capably carry out their role as missionaries, fully learn what they need to, and return to Japan enriched by the stimulation this experience has afforded them.
Everybody starts out a bit timidly, even if they don’t say so. This is only to be expected, since they don’t know the extent to which locally recruited people will be capable of working as members of their team. Confronting so many unknowns contributes to their nervousness. But when they come back to Japan, having seen how hard the locals work, they happily report things like “Everybody really soaked up what I taught them like water. They studied diligently.” People who experience this firsthand will find many things to learn from this if they are perceptive. This is likely to start a virtuous cycle.
Even if they go over full of doubt, coming back filled with amazement as a result of their experience abroad means that they’ve seen a different world at Lenovo and learned from it. Having expanded their horizons, they will realize, to a greater or lesser degree, what they themselves need to do next.
The future of the ThinkPad—Thoughts about the age of multiple devices
Changing subjects, smartphones and tablet PCs have become popular in recent years, and we are naturally concerned about such trends. We must think about how such trends should be interpreted in the field of corporate solutions, even though such new products are mainly aimed at individuals and thus do not compete in the same arena.
By nature I tend to be doubtful when something sounds too interesting. Of course, I don’t have doubts about the future of smartphones and tablets. Yet talk about the age of PCs coming to an end because of the popularity of tablets strains credulity. This is completely unlikely, in my opinion. Actually, the emergence of smartphones and tablets has not had the effect of shrinking the PC market. I think that what these people want to say is that, the portion of the growth that would have occurred had tablets not appeared was gobbled up by tablets. I don’t deny that that has occurred to some extent, but PCs and tablets are fundamentally different machines. Even if a person uses both types of devices, it is just not possible to completely switch to tablets at the expense of PCs.
The difference between PCs and tablets ultimately comes down to differences in processors. I previously said that PCs are constantly getting faster, and as machines specially designed for performance, there is no question that they will continue to achieve higher performance. Performance literally means user efficiency, work efficiency. People who use PCs for their work are incredibly focused and therefore speed is extremely important to them. I repeat myself, but a ten-second delay waiting for the site host to update is intolerable.
However, when one is trying to do something while outside and walking, one values convenience more than performance. The ability to view and send emails while on the move, being able to take pictures of what one is having for lunch and being able to easily post them on Facebook. Being able to view menus on an easy-to-see screen and order home delivered pizza. If you always walk about with your device in your pocket, you don’t require the same level of performance as that of a PC.
The applications and purposes of these two types of devices are different in the first place. Tablets are definitely situated toward the middle of the product spectrum in this discussion, but even so I don’t believe anybody would have the courage to buy a tablet and get rid of their PC. When you compare items that differ so greatly in their purpose, it is impossible to categorically judge in favor of one or the other. You just won’t be able to determine the winner.
The U.S. is said to have seen a rise in the number of women called “soccer moms.” Known to do other things while watching their kids play soccer, they are so-called multitaskers. Such soccer moms doubtlessly love to use smartphones, not PCs. Or at most, tablets. So this is a user category that might not own PCs.
What about the business people? They normally work using PCs. And yet, if a businessperson does not need to sit down and focus on a job today, and wants to go out the office without carrying a notebook PC, that person will chose another device. The problem that then arises is data syncing. Since that person was working on a PC until just a moment ago, his or her data is still on the PC. The data cannot be synchronized. This, in other words the difficulty of instant data porting, is the exact reason why it was not convenient to use multiple devices. Until around 2008, I myself had been telling the research team to “create an architecture that allows data syncing.” However, this is no longer necessary, thanks to cloud computing. With the cloud and wireless connections, it has become easy to selectively use multiple devices according to the situation. As a result, the issue of which of smartphones/tablets and PCs will win out no longer exists—because users can now selectively use the best device for the purpose of the moment.
Of the above devices, smartphones and tablets extensively use and rely on the capabilities of the Internet, while PCs use the Internet’s capabilities but also make extensive use of their local engine and work hard even on a standalone basis. The appearance and spread of many different devices, including smartphones and tablets, is welcomed by PC manufacturers. Some cannibalization is likely to occur, but more than that, I think that this will offer users a more meaningful business environment with more choices in the form of multiple devices.
Based on this, engineers will be called upon to create new devices that have yet to be envisioned. For example, new social media, such as Facebook, Twitter, and Google+, are already quite popular. What this suggests is that a shift is occurring, from search (which was dominant until now) to broadcasting, and from a 1-N to an N-N configuration. And in that case, the tools that will be needed in the future may well be machines that facilitate broadcasting even more than searching.
Thanks to search engines such as Google and Yahoo!, it is now possible to search a truly astounding volume of information via the Internet. This is a sea change in terms of raising productivity. I think that this will be taken further in the future and that we will need machines that make it easy to broadcast information, in other words machines that facilitate information (idea) creation—PCs that raise not only productivity but also creativity.
Actually, I have an idea of what an ideal device might be like. Not one of today’s notebook PCs, which actually have to be toted around, but a notebook or a binder, which can be carried around much more easily. A mobile PC made by embedding PC functions in such an item to contribute to user productivity and creativity would truly be the ultimate ThinkPad.
However, one component that we have built into the ThinkPad will not change. That is our philosophy, the product concept, which we have maintained all along. No matter what products are included in our lineup, this is something we will not forsake. There is a part that cannot be seen by the eye, which nobody can preserve except engineers. I wa
nt to implant this part in the teams that the Yamato lab leads or with whom it conducts development. In other words, I think that Lenovo as a whole must preserve this philosophy.
For example, whether it is the tactile feel of the keyboard or some other aspect, we will not rashly acquiesce to suggestions to “make it cheaply and just stick the ThinkPad logo on it.” Engineers who take up such proposals will end up losing the trust of customers, and such a company will fail. Thus, the ThinkPad philosophy must be preserved. Put the other way around, I think that we will succeed as long as we manage to preserve that. But it won’t do to go about it self-righteously. Neither would form an anti-reform faction within the company. Let’s say that the price is 1500 yen, when customers demand a product priced at 1000 yen is not acceptable. Engineers must understand their own goals as well as those of customers. Let’s say that until now a given standard had a numerical value of 50, for example. Now, if this value were to be lowered to 40, the cost could be reduced to 1000 yen. We may then reconsider whether the value should be 50, or whether it could be lowered to 40. This does not mean that standards can be changed lightly, but the attitude that one should push one’s ideas, one’s own sense of things at any cost is not part of the Yamato lab’s DNA. Finding the right balance is the difficult thing.
So far, our engineers have overcome all the difficult challenges they’ve been presented with. I’ve just been saying “Yes, right,” so I can’t really complain. The engineers are the ones who have done the hard work. That they were able to accomplish all this is also attributable to the fact that the Yamato lab is not just a place they happened to wander into. They came here by choice, this is a place they yearned for, and our products were like our children… This is why they could also endure the hardships, and why the ideas came pouring forth. The degree of commitment was different from the very start. The level of motivation was different.
Yes, I create the ThinkPad along with everybody else. However, the ThinkPad, both the product and the brand, has protected me and the Yamato lab, and contributed to our growth.
A unique worldview born from our collaboration with Wintel
I’d like to briefly touch upon the topic of Wintel and assembly manufacturers.
This is the topic of most PC manufacturers having become mere assemblers owing to the fact that Microsoft (Windows) and Intel have taken for themselves the heart of PCs.
I cannot say whether such manufacturers actually exist, but if a manufacturer, whether IBM or Lenovo, were a mere assembler, we would not need labs to begin with. Of course, this debate has never been directed toward the ThinkPad, but even so, it certainly suggests an important point: Microsoft and Intel must be taken seriously. This means that we have to create favorable relationships with them and plan a course for mutual development.
For instance, regarding the development of Windows 7, Microsoft and Lenovo jointly developed a Lenovo version program called Lenovo Enhanced Experience 2.0 for Windows 7. This was an original program designed to optimize the performance of PCs running Windows 7 that shortened the time required to boot up and shut down Windows 7 on Lenovo-made PCs. This resulted in an average bootup time 20 seconds shorter than ordinary Windows 7 PCs, and a 28 percent faster shutdown speed.
I believe that it will become increasingly important not just to haphazardly assemble machines combining Microsoft’s software and Intel’s CPUs, but to harmonize our respective notions and concepts so as to create the best possible solutions. After all, one of Japan’s technical strengths is its ability to achieve such harmony. By focusing on this ability, I trust that we will be able to steer clear of becoming a mere assembler of parts.
Taking to hard study after entering IBM by chance
I was born in Aichi Prefecture in 1952.
In 1970, I entered the Department of Instrumentation Engineering at the Faculty of Engineering (now called Faculty of Science and Technology) of Keio University. At the time, there were only five departments, Applied Chemistry, Administration Engineering, Electrical Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, and Instrumentation Engineering. In truth, when I entered the university, I was unsure about what I wanted to do. My father had studied mechanical engineering at university, so I had a vague notion of pursuing studies in the same field.
In those days, Keio University students declared a major in their third year, not their first year. As I took university courses in my first two years, I got interested in studying semiconductors, which were all the rage then. But unfortunately, Keio did not have a department for semiconductor studies.
On the face of it, instrumentation engineering is a discipline that studies automation, in the sense of performing measurements and applying feedback. It is about automated control. However, I learned of a laboratory that was renting space on the premises that did work closely related to semiconductors, so I visited there. The professor was an applied physicist, and his specialty was quantum mechanics. As a result, I was able to study semiconductors to some extent, though only for two years. As I didn’t go to graduate school, my university studies were not really in depth.
Even so, I wanted to join a semiconductor firm. Although this was only a vague notion, I thought I wanted to design integrated circuits. At the time, calculators were extremely large in size. In terms of semiconductor devices, the first devices to come out were just light emitting diodes. The level of integration was still extremely low, and the age of large-scale integration circuits was yet to come. Even so, I felt that semiconductors would open the way to the future. Still, I didn’t think of computers at that time. I suppose I did not care about finished products back then.
And so my aim was diversified electronics manufacturers, because at the time, only major electric appliance makers did research on semiconductors. The problem was that this was the first year of the oil shock crisis, and the entire semiconductor industry went into a slump. Visits to companies would be systematically greeted by “We’re not hiring.” To which they’d kindly add, “It will be the same everywhere you go.”
Everywhere I went (actually just two or three companies, as there weren’t that many diversified electronics manufacturers), I would be told “Sorry, the division you are interested in is not hiring now. By the way, are you interested in computers?”
This was just a vaguely put question. They didn’t even specify whether they meant software or hardware. In any case, I considered IBM to be the top company for computers, so the third or fourth company I visited was IBM Japan.
This was the first year that recruiting before the official start of the recruiting season was prohibited under an agreement among Japanese companies. In other words, the starting date for tentative job offers was October 1. This meant that university seniors in their final year and due to enter employment in April of the following year were given only a single season to hunt for jobs. Moreover, Japan was in a recession, and I recall that all the students were quite worried that if their company of first choice did not accept them, they might be left high and dry. Therefore nobody wanted to be adventurous and everybody wanted to go where they were promised they’d be hired.
In my case, one company had told me that they’d probably hire me, and although this was not an iron-clad guarantee, I was quite excited. But when I went to my university to receive a letter of recommendation, I was told that “No, there are no employment offers for the Department of Instrumentation and Engineering from this company.” I thought this to be strange, but I didn’t push it and asked “In that case, please give me a letter of recommendation for IBM Japan.” However, it turned out that what they’d told me was a mistake, which I found out about when I passed the office a few days later and saw a correction notice on the bulletin board. That company, one of the diversified electronics manufacturers, had indeed submitted an employment offer.
I haven’t the faintest idea what I would be doing now if had I gone to that company, but in my state of mind at the time, knowing that this was my only shot at getting hired, had
this mix-up not occurred and had I received the required letter of recommendation, I definitely would have accepted the offer. I suppose that the way things turned out was the work of fate. When I realized that a mix-up had occurred, I could still have tracked back, but already having received a letter of recommendation for IBM, I would not have felt pushed by the stars if told directly by the university office “our mistake” at that late stage. At the time, IBM Japan did not perform company-wide recruitment, instead hiring by division, and I stated on my application form that I wanted to be assigned to the Fujisawa lab.
When I got to the examination hall, hundreds of applicants were already assembled there. When somebody raised a hand and asked “How many people will the lab hire this time?” The reply was “just a select few.” Along with all the others, I thought to myself, “This is not good…”
I think that IBM really hesitated about whether they should hire me. I’m saying this because after the written exam, there was an interview, but they did not send me their response for two long weeks after that interview. Just as I was getting worried and ready to put in motion a recovery plan, the offer of a position arrived.
The “select few” numbered five. I actually felt that I had somehow, extraordinarily, managed to get in. I was truly thankful. I remember thinking that the select few were really four persons, and that I myself had somehow managed to squeeze in by other means.
Having accomplished very little during my student days, I really took to hard study after entering IBM Japan. A great thing for me was that, unlike now, computers were still taking baby steps, the level of integration was still very low, and thus you could figure out the entire contents of a semiconductor module if you wished to do so. Thus I was able to catch up on what I didn’t know.
Today it’s a different story. The amount of technologies and circuit elements has reached stratospheric levels, and understanding each and every gate is impossible. The fact that I didn’t understand English at all also spurred me to action. My ignorance of the language prevented me from dealing with areas that I should have addressed, and seeing everybody just chat away while all I could do was to stand by, I decided that I had to study at all cost. Naturally, websites did not exist at the time, so I rushed over to the bookstore. Though I lived in Fujisawa, I didn’t know any good bookstores there, so I went out to Shibuya, where I often hung out as a student, and I pored over books on weekends. Even I think that I studied pretty hard.
English turns out to be tougher than computers
Honestly, my English didn’t progress for a long time, but I would watch the English education programs on NHK (Japan's national public broadcasting organization) in the morning before going to work, practicing the English by parroting it back. Such approach, however, did not make me able to speak English by a long shot. What allowed me to actually develop an ear for English was firsthand experience. I believe it was in the mid-1980s that an American engineer was assigned to give me guidance, and for a while I had to converse with him in English on a daily basis, and that’s when I developed an ear for the language. As you might expect, on-the-job training driven by necessity and a sense of urgency is what makes people grow the most—though it has the demerit of causing stress to build up…
Around that time, the company had introduced TOEIC (Test of English for International Communication) testing. This turned out to be a good timing for me. Until then, I’d received failing grades for interviews, but now having developed an ear for English, I received an extremely high score the first time I took the test. Although this high score may have clouded my judgment, I really got used to English when, after being promoted to manager, I spend about six months traveling back and forth between Japan and Boca Raton in the U.S. Subsequent stays in the U.S. then allowed me to acquire a degree of speaking proficiency.
Having gotten to this point, I can now say that English used to scare me. I was particularly hopeless on the phone. When the phone rang, I didn’t want to answer, that’s how bad it was. While in the U.S., I worked as an assistant to a director and would receive many calls. Though I had to pick up, I decided not to do so before three rings. And each time I would hope for the other side to hang up before then. Since nobody hangs up before three rings, I wound up having to answer. This was my habitual routine in the beginning.
I then decided to rent videos and pick up one expression I’d like to use myself from every video and memorize it.
Some people say that technical terms are what give them a hard time, but for me technical terms were easy, probably because the computer terms used in Japan generally come either in English or in katakana (characters used to transcribe English and other foreign words). For this reason, even now I understand only half of what’s going on outside the company (in other fields), although I understand about 80% of the stuff in my own company. For example, if I were suddenly told about astronomy, I would have a hard time understanding.
Carrying on a fluent conversation over drinks is also difficult. The problem is not just one of understanding the meaning of individual words, but of getting a grip on expressions that use simple words such as “take” and “have,” for example.
There is one episode I vividly remember after all these years. It occurred on my first visit to the U.S. I was extremely tense and somebody said to me “Take it easy!” My jet-lagged thoughts were as follows: I understand “Take.” I understand “it” too. Of course I get “easy.” But what on earth does “Take it easy!” mean? That being the level of my English at the time, I couldn’t possibly have relaxed.
My discussion has veered far into the topic of English, but one thing is certain: if you work in a foreign-affiliated company, let alone a global company, whether as an engineer or any other profession, English is a challenge that must be overcome.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I have been blessed with a happy life so far
Although this could be held up as a paradigm of ignorance, the equation in my head when I joined IBM read “Computer = Mainframe.” After receiving my tentative job offer from the company, I was taken on a tour to the Fujisawa Plant. This was where mainframes were being made. So I naturally assumed that this is what computers were about. But I was in for a major surprise after I actually joined IBM: IBM Japan was not involved in the development of mainframes. I was surprised, but I had not joined IBM because I wanted to create mainframes at any cost, and not being the type of person who can do something in particular, but rather the type that doesn’t know how to do anything, I learned things daily under the guidance of my seniors and every day was a fun one.
I was not the type of person who always wants to do new things, but rather the type who does not feel reluctance toward new things. Therefore, as I’ve already explained in Chapter 1, I have come thus far by being assigned Kanji characters, workstations, and PCs to work on, and it’s not like I will now be able to do whatever I like. However, with a lot of interesting and challenging work in front of me, I regard manufacturing craftsmanship as something that is and will continue to be incredibly fun.
And so I consider myself extremely lucky. Even if I was to be born again and studied and worked harder the next time around, I think I wouldn’t be able to have such a blessed life as the one I have now, even if I were reborn a hundred times. It’s probably a lucky combination of the right times and the right people. The transfer from IBM to Lenovo has also been far from a bad thing. If I had in truth thought even slightly that this transfer was not a good thing, I should in a sense have secretly felt apologetic to the members of the Yamato lab whom I rallied and took with me. However, I felt no such thing at all. My take on the transfer from IBM to Lenovo is that it really worked out well for everybody, and so I truly believe that it was the right choice.
And even though I can say that now, it’s true that I felt some worry when I finally convinced everyone. It was a bit like saying “It’s going to be alright” while clasping the other person’s hand. And then I felt also a to
uch of anxiety while maintaining the status quo for more than two years. Of course, I did not stand idle during this time, and in the end, Lenovo did not disappoint us. On the contrary, Lenovo treated us just as we had hoped.
To be honest, probably all concerned and those around us felt some apprehension about us going over to a company from China. We had been with an American company until then, whereas China, though close by geographically, was an unfamiliar country that greatly differed from Europe and the U.S., as well as Japan. Of course, it’s not like we hadn’t had dealings with people from China under IBM, but those relations were not that close. And thus we were kind of worried. Japan-bashing demonstrations were taking place in Shanghai just then, and traveling to Beijing was to me a somewhat troubling prospect.
However, all these worries came to nothing. The streets of Beijing were safe, and talking with the local engineers, I was relieved to find out that engineers everywhere talk about the same things. And I was reminded that individual differences are greater than race differences. I was elated to realize that “everybody’s the same.”