How to Build 300,000 Airplanes in Five Years

Have you ever thought, not only about the airplane but whatever man builds, that all of man’s industrial efforts, all his computations and calculations, all the nights spent working over drafts and blue-prints, invariably culminate in the production of a thing whose sole and guiding principle is the ultimate principle of simplicity?

Six years before we installed it, I experimented with the moving final assembly line which is now the crowning touch of American mass production. Before the eyes of Henry Ford, I worked out on a blackboard the figures that became the basis for his $5 day and the overwhelming proof of the present economic truism that high wages beget lower-priced ma

The figure man in this instance was right and the salesmen were wrong. Everywhere the inventories were excessive. I then issued one of the few flat orders I ever gave to the division managers during the time I served as chief executive officer of General Motors. This order directed all division managers to curtail production schedules immediately —

by the end of World War II, it was very clear to a victorious nation what needed to happen if we wanted to keep from sliding back into economic depression: We all needed to copy the success of Detroit. That is what we did.

The American system reflected the assembly line attitude that worked well producing tanks and airplanes, but fell woefully short when it came to maintaining unit morale.

Japan's revolution in manufacturing emerged from two moments of crisis that forced fundamental innovation.

The first came in 1950, when Toyota faced near-bankruptcy and intense labour disputes. Unable to maintain its workforce, the company laid off a quarter of its employees, that is, about 1,600 people. The resulting conflict with Toyota's strong