I think that's a long way off yet Ted
As we didn't have enough to worry about, after his stay at the Swan Hotel his visit to a Chinese factory was also an eye opener
The name of the factory was Harbin Tractor Works. Actually, Harbin's tractor didn't work... not very well, anyway. After nearly thirty years of working for the world leader in quality earthmoving equipment, I was shocked beyond belief at the product the Harbin Tractor Works was turning out their back door. I'm sure I will never be able to find the words to describe properly what we saw. However, I will try.
We first toured the sheet metal department... the place where they make fenders, hoods and such. The impression that sticks in my mind was the rust. Every piece of metal in the huge room was covered in heavy rust. The floor was covered with trash, scrap parts and a maze of acetylene torch hoses and sledge hammers. There were no presses. There were no dies. This was definitely a "Heat and Beat" shop. The next impression that has stayed with me over all these years... no two parts were the same. In fact, they were so different, they could not be stacked.
The frame area came next. There were no holding fixtures for the weld fabrications. The welder held the different parts in place with C-clamps or by hand as he welded them together. Nothing was measured. Also, as in the sheet metal department, every part was covered with rust. There was no evidence of any engineering drawings. There was no evidence of any weld procedures or assembly instructions. I was told that these welders had been doing the same job so long that they knew where each of the different parts goes. I noticed the size of the welds ranged from 1/8 to 3/4 of an inch... in the same joint. Therefore, the frames were warped and deflected in every direction. Because of this, they had a number of straightening presses where the operators tried to get the frame back in some dimensional conformance. This didn't work very well.
In the assembly area, there appeared to be no logical order of things. Similar parts were all over the room, as three or four workers tried to find pieces they could fit together without too much banging and cutting. Since no two parts were the same, this process sometimes took several minutes before compatible parts could be found. Rust was still the favorite color. I watched as they installed the tires on one unit and pushed it to the next area to have the engine installed. The tractor listed to the left, the right side at least four inches higher than the left. When I questioned our guide, he informed me this was a normal condition, that this would have no bearing on the function of the tractor. Function being the key word here.
Our next stop was the paint shop. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. The tractors were being painted by hand... with a brush... over the rust... with no masking tape... by girls wearing dresses and high heel shoes. The body of the tractors was bright red and the tires and wheels were painted black. There were no decals. There was no chrome. The seats were made from thin plastic that had torn and cracked, revealing the dried grass that had been used for stuffing. In short, the units looked as if they had been made in a back yard garage by ten year olds hoping to win the derby. No two units looked the same.
The test area revealed my worst fears. The tractors performed terribly. If the unit was fortunate enough to be started, it was driven to a pile of loose dirt where, now get this, six workers filled the bucket with dirt using long handled shovels. Then the bucket was slowly raised. Once it attained the proper height, the tractor was put into gear and driven thirty feet away to another dirt pile. It was stopped, and the bucket was dropped, dumping the load. If the tractor completed this test, it was driven over to the shipping department.
"May I offer a suggestion?" I asked the head of the test area. "Why don't you have the operator lower the bucket, drive into the pile of dirt to fill it, and then lift it and go to the dump pile? Why do you have the workers filling it by hand?"
"We have ample hydraulic power to lift the bucket. We have ample hydraulic power to move the machine from one place to another. We do not have enough hydraulic power to do both at the same time."
"Oh... well... okay then."
What we observed that day was typical of similar factories all over China, although there was a few who did some things better. The factory leaders were told how many units to manufacture each month by the government. Then they were loaded onto rail cars, and the rail cars disappeared. The people who built the machines had no idea where they went nor who the users were. They had no feed back from the user, thus they had no idea how the units performed or what idea what they liked or dislike about the tractors. There was no such thing as warranties.
Now we knew why the Chinese government was willing to pay our company a substantial amount of money for a transfer of twenty year old technology. They wanted to learn how to make tractors that we made twenty years ago. If successful, they would have advanced their own manufacturing by fifty years. I knew one thing for sure. It wasn't going to happen over night... and I would end up making several trips to China. At that moment in time, I wasn't sure if I liked that idea or not.