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| The Upside of Strategic Risk: How Toyota Turned Its Greatest Threat Into a Growth Breakthrough | Printer version |
by Adrian Slywotzky
This article draws on material from the new book The Upside, published by Crown Business Books.
At most companies, risk management focuses on three
categories of risk that are widely understood: hazard risks
(fire, flood, earthquake), financial risks (bad loans, currency
and interest rate swings), and operating risks (the computer
system fails, the supply chain gets interrupted).
While these kinds of risks are important, even more
dangerous are the strategic risks your business faces.
For example, your big project fails, your customers change
their preferences and leave you for competitors, the margins
compress across your industry, or a technology shift makes
your product obsolete.
Strategic risk targets one or more of the crucial elements in
the design of your business model. In some cases, it shatters
the bond between you and your customers. In other cases,
it undermines the unique value proposition that is the
basis of your revenue stream. In still other cases, it siphons
away the profits you depend on. And sometimes it destroys
the strategic control that helps your company fend off
competition. In the worst case, a major strategic risk can
threaten all these pillars of your business.
Not all businesses face every form of strategic risk, but
every business faces some. The seven major kinds of
strategic risk are: project risk; customer risk; transition
risk; unique competitor risk; brand risk; industry risk;
and stagnation risk.
Of course, there’s no way to eliminate strategic risk
altogether. But understanding and anticipating it, shaping
it, and implementing the specific countermeasures that
have proven to be effective can enable a company to
dramatically improve its odds for surviving and even
thriving in today’s risk-rich environment – and to discover
the upside potential concealed by the frightening mask of
downside risk.
Toyota raises the odds on the Prius
The Japanese automaker Toyota provides a great example
of astute management of project risk. At the moment of
launching any project, there’s a problem that most of us
don’t come to grips with: the inherent, all-too-human
tendency to be overly optimistic about the odds of success.
In fact, data suggests that the failure rate for many types
of projects is in the range of 60% to 80%.
The first step in changing this picture is carefully
estimating the true odds – overcoming the natural human
tendency to be overly optimistic with a bracing dose of
realism and data. Projects live in a tough, probabilistic
world. There are so many ways to under invest – not just
financially but also in terms of time, energy, emotion,
resilience, options considered, conversations held,
experiments conducted, simulations run, market trials
conducted, tires kicked, and doors slammed.
Making matters worse is the fact that for many types of
business initiatives, success is an all-or-nothing matter.
Unless all the elements required for success are in place,
the project can fail completely. This little-recognized
reality of project risk can be described by the simple
formula “90% right often = 0.”
Thankfully, there are proven techniques for changing these
odds for the better. The Japanese automaker Toyota created
several of the most powerful of these techniques while
developing the Prius – a blockbuster product whose odds
of success were less than 5% when Toyota embarked on its
development in the fall of 1993.
In the early 1990s, the company was riding high, enjoying
growing market share and unrivaled profitability. But
Toyota’s executives were extremely worried. They feared
that product maturity was setting in. Hungry, costconscious,
hyper-efficient competitors such as Korea’s
Hyundai were emerging, eager to do to Toyota what Toyota
had done to Detroit’s Big Three.
To make sure that Toyota would remain in the forefront of
the auto industry, the company decided to mount an allout
effort to create the first great car of the 21st century,
almost a decade before that century would arrive. In 1993,
10 Toyota board members met to imagine the qualities
that a breakthrough car (which they code-named the G21)
for the coming century should have. They envisioned a car
that was comfortable, safe, pleasant to drive, appealing
to female motorists, low-polluting and environmentally
friendly, and highly fuel-efficient – sound ideas, but
amorphous. An engineer named Takeshi Uchiyamada
was assigned to convert them into a concrete proposal.
Mr. Uchiyamada, a specialist in techniques for eliminating
noise and vibration, wasn’t an obvious choice for the role.
He had never headed a new-vehicle development team.
But from 1991 to 1993, he’d led a task force that reviewed
Toyota’s R&D process from head to toe. This turned out to
be crucial preparation for the G21 challenge. It exposed
him to many parts of the company and deepened his
understanding of the disparate technologies that Toyota
had developed. He had become an expert in the inner
workings of the company – its many strengths and its lessobvious
weaknesses.
He had also learned where the company’s most talented
engineers were. Now he recruited 10 outstanding engineers
representing all of the key technologies that would go into
the G21. All were in their early 30s, old enough to have
experience but young enough to be flexible.
They worked for months to give a concrete form to the G21
concept, then brought their proposed car to the company’s
executive vice president of R&D. Mr. Uchiyamada explained
that his team hoped to create a small sedan that delivered
47.5 miles per gallon, about 50% better fuel efficiency than
the Corolla, a comparable current car. He was told to double
the G21’s fuel efficiency.
Mr. Uchiyamada returned to the drawing board. He would
have to rethink his assumptions about the G21. Tinkering
with existing technology wouldn’t suffice. It would require
a major leap to an unproven system that existed only as
a blue-sky concept Toyota had been studying – the hybrid
engine.
What’s more, Toyota wasn’t the only company considering
the hybrid engine. Everyone in the car business had heard
rumors about hybrid experiments at Honda and Ford.
It wouldn’t be enough to create a successful new design;
he also had to do it faster than the competition.
As a means to finding new ways to surface problems and
solve them quickly, Mr. Uchiyamada created a new system
designed to facilitate communication and joint problem
solving among his team members.
The system started with a dedicated physical space.
They called it obeya, the big room. It was equipped with
personal computers and two computer-aided design
workstations. Team members were asked to assemble in
this room daily to work together on the G21 project – the
first time this had been done at Toyota.
Mr. Uchiyamada also created a virtual space, an electronic
mailing list compiled to encourage team members to
quickly and broadly disseminate key issues and problems
as they arose. Over time, this list grew to include 300
people. Of course, e-mail wasn’t a new technology at
Toyota, but the way it was used on the G21 project was
new to this relatively hierarchical, formal company.
Toyota replaced its command-and-control communications
model with an innovative, equal-access system and sent
a clear message in the process: The best minds in the
company should focus on any and every problem related
to the G21. In retrospect, we can see that this intense focus
probably raised the odds of success for the project from the
5% range to perhaps 10%.
Many problems are predictable
Mr. Uchiyamada also spent a great deal of time anticipating
problems that, upon a bit of reflection, were entirely
predictable. He introduced other innovations designed to
preempt them. For example, when a new vehicle is ready
to go on line, Toyota usually sends resident engineers (REs)
to work at the manufacturing plants so they’ll be available
for problems that arise during production. For the G21
project, they assigned reverse REs from the manufacturing
plants to take part in the design development process.
The point was to eliminate possible manufacturing glitches
in the blueprint stage. This move raised the odds to 15%.
Tackling risk reduction in this spirit often meant drastically
increasing the demands on the team – for example,
considering some 80 different types of hybrid engines early
in the life of the project. If the team could find the one true
standout option for the engine, they would raise the odds of
success to 17%.
On closer inspection, the hybrid team quickly narrowed
the engine options to 20. They purchased specialized, readymade
computer simulation software with which to run
most of their performance tests. Unfortunately, it didn’t
meet the unprecedented demands of the brand-new hybrid
technology. So Toyota’s engineers set out to rework the
software extensively.
Once the new software was ready, the rounds of synthetic
testing could begin. The G21 team narrowed 20 systemdesign
possibilities down to eight, then four, then had an
intense bake-off among the final four. The survivor of all
these brutal comparisons was an extraordinary engine
– efficient and relatively simple in design. Now the team
had to do the same thing for the other parts of the car.
The strategy was one of creating excess options, in order to
find the single most powerful answer. It was even applied
to the car’s overall styling. Toyota maintains seven separate
styling studios around the world, each normally working on
a different vehicle category. But for the G21, soon dubbed
the Prius, all seven studios were asked to submit designs,
which were judged by a panel of 50 Toyota people of various
ages. This raised the probability of success to 20%.
As the hybrid development continued, Toyota faced another
critical juncture: The Prius required the creation of a new
battery that would be just one-tenth the size of existing
batteries for electric vehicles and far more impervious
to heat and cold. This one challenge could have sunk the
entire venture.
Toyota dislikes relying on external expertise, but in this
case there was no viable option. The company decided to
partner with Matsushita Electric to design and produce
the battery, and then later to sell it to other automakers.
This step helped reduce financial risk by providing another
revenue stream to help pay for the Prius development.
And since the battery was built by a Matsushita-Toyota joint
venture, Toyota did not lose control of a key technology.
This brought the probability of success to 25%.
Another key technological breakthrough lay in recognizing
that powerful electronic devices for managing the flow
of electricity between the battery and the electric motor
were crucial to making the car both quiet and powerful.
The hybrid car would need more controls and transition
management than a conventional internal combustion
engine, including new computer chips to make it work.
Toyota spent time with chip specialists to assemble the
right electronic pieces for the massive, three-dimensional
hybrid puzzle. But the advanced chips needed were not
readily available, even from outside sources.
The solution was for Toyota to build its own factory
to fabricate self-designed power controller chips. The
company hired a team of semiconductor engineers, then
educated them about the car business and specifically the
new hybrid technology. It was costly and time-consuming,
but raised the odds a little further – to 30%.
Every one of these and subsequent, similar moves made
by Mr. Uchiyamada and his team kept notching up the
odds. Toyota mapped out the new technologies needed,
developed a timetable for each, and then set to work on the
whole array of projects simultaneously, cross-referencing
and cross-fertilizing among teams as needed.
By the time the Prius was introduced to the U.S. market in
2000 (a first-generation Prius made its debut in Japan only
in 1997) the odds went up to 50%. And when you factor in
Toyota’s superior business design model that is difficult for
competitors to match, let alone beat, the odds for success
jumped to 90%. We now know that the car was – and
remains – a success. When launched, word of mouth in the
U.S. was overwhelmingly positive, and in most of the
country the waiting list for a new Prius was several
months long.
The success of the Prius was systematic – the result of a
conscious strategy developed by the Toyota managers in
response to a genuine understanding of the true risks and
how to deal with them. As such there’s much to be learned
by studying the Toyota playbooks.
Every business executive owes it to him or herself to ask:
What are my organization’s major risks? What specific
steps should we take to address those risks? And how can
we change the odds of success?
In this age of increased volatility, intensified competition,
and heightened risk, one factor has become more
important than ever in sorting the champions from the
also-rans. That factor is the foresight, flexibility, realism,
and planning that make up the new discipline of strategic
risk management. It’s a set of concepts and tools that no
manager today can afford to neglect.
Adrian Slywotzky is a director of Oliver Wyman. He is the author of The
Upside, as well as the bestselling The Profit Zone (selected by BusinessWeek
as one of the 10 best books of 1998), Value Migration, and How to Grow
When Markets Don’t. He has also been published in the Harvard Business
Review and the Wall Street Journal and has been a featured speaker at the
World Economic Forum Annual Meeting, the Microsoft CEO Summit, the Forbes
CEO Forum, and the Fortune CEO Conference.
The Upside contains the full account of how Toyota managed strategic risk
while developing the Prius, as well as fresh case studies on the Apple iPod,
Coach, Tsutaya, Target, Netflix, Continental AG, and others. To learn more
about the book or order copies, visit www.oliverwyman.com.
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