

Stan Shih is the CEO of Acer, Taiwan's leading computer brand, and one of
Asia’s most visible brands internationally. He is famed for his quick-march
yet humanitarian approach to corporate change. In a part of the world where
innovation is not particularly encouraged, his endless reengineering of his
company has been closely watched during the past decade (and inviting in the
jape that Acer is the world’s first “re-re-re-re-reengineered” firm).
Unlike the Standard Industrial Model of the Corporate Reflections book, this
book is really a ghost-written puff piece for the CEO. He has much praise for
his company and its employees, but there is not a single instance in the
entire book where he has patted himself on the back for Acer’s success. So
there, Mr. Welch.
Growing Global is a rewritten series of lectures he gave at a Taiwanese
university in 2000–01. In it he unveils his latest management wrinkle, “the
Internet Organization" or IO. The IO is based on "virtual dream teams", which
he envisions as small, ever-mutating groups of specialists who “task”—get
together as a team, accomplish a project, and when finished, move on and
reassemble for a new project. Mr. Shih claims that this "can turn Acer into a
'higher form' of organization."
Well, maybe Acer under Mr. Shih, but most of the rest of Asia is led by of
conservative, hierarchical, conformist, autocratic, men who also happen to be
ill-interested in (a) the deluge-like advance of technological advancement,
and (b) what their own young people are thinking of all this.
Being in essence lectures to students, Mr. Shih’s book reads like rather
well-penned, logical, but lusterless class notes. Sadly, in shaping his style
for a student audience, one of the book’s shortcomings is vast over-simplification of complex realities without the statistical or
anecdotal backup to clarify why the point can be so simplified. For example,
take the statement, “Many Japanese companies take product quality to the
point of perfection before releasing a product to the market; although they
have mastered product quality, they have missed the timing, so the value they
create is greatly compromised.”
First of all, that isn’t true, as any Acura or Sony owner well knows. But
more worrisome, isn’t this really saying, “Get to market and fix the
problems later”? This and a few other comments like it remind one why the
international image of Taiwanese products was for decades “quick’n’dirty”.
On the brighter side, Mr. Shih definitely has a sharp mind when it comes to
grasping the Big Picture. Extract his analyses of the differences between
U.S., European, Japanese, Southeast Asian, and Taiwanese social and business
cultures, and you would have the chapter outline for another book. His
dissection of how those five cultures approach globalization is a thumb in
the eye to anti-globalizers who monolithically interpret issues in terms of
monolithic capitalism. The reality is that capitalism is about as monolithic
as a playground.
Mr. Shih elucidates the differences in corporate culture that enabled Dell,
Compaq, Cisco Systems, IBM, Sony, and his own Acer to evolve distinctive
conceptual differences about product creation and marketing. For example, the
Microsoft and Cisco models are to buy up and integrate successful smaller
companies into their own fold. Acer’s approach is rather like the incubator
model in which a very slim-and-trim parent company spins off no end of
tightly focused subsidiaries that get their job done and dissolve—again that
IO structure he talks about.
“Niche” is a word that crops up often in this book. It is a reality so much
part-and-parcel the core of Asian life that it is amazing more American
companies don’t “get it”. They tend to go into a country with—pardon the
term—both guns blazing, lavishly spending on large-scale ad campaigns,
creating massive distribution and retailing networks, and in general
interpreting Asia as little more than another mass-market. Problem is, Asia
is 300 million people occupying 3,000 cultural niches. Can one really apply
marketing ideas to the inhabits of a valley in Northern Thailand the same way
as to a hip young kid in Bangkok? Can one lump together the wealthy
socialites of any given city with its recent-graduate first-jobbers, both of
whom shop the same cosmetics counters in the same mall gallerias but buy very
different product lines to convey very different social images?
Most Westerners don’t live in Asia on the street level. Hence they don’t
develop a sensitivity for how the place works. Asia isn’t a series of
markets, it is a vast number of cultural courtyards. A courtyard is a
traditional-laden common meeting ground—of things or ideas, take your
pick—in which one side is bounded by the public market, another by the
religious temple or mosque, a third by the political infrastructure, and the
last by customs and taboos that govern the first three and have been doing it
from before words were written.
Mr. Shih addresses the issue of Asian nichification constantly throughout the
book—although not expressed in the metaphor above. His terminology is
traditional—globalization, functionality, value creation, corporate strategy,
reengineering. You can just imagine the dutiful students scribbling their
ballpoints dry.
Which brings up a painful observation. Nearly all the text is bounded by
buzzwords popular about five years ago. The effect is rather like reading the
complete technical specifications of a Ferrari that won the ‘52 Le Mans Grand
Prix. There is no mention of social and political dynamics that drive the
computer and internet development in India. Not a word about the successful
data entry and overnight software models that originated in Bangalore and
created a huge market for Indian talent in the United States. Linux and open-sourcing
get so little attention they seem to barely exist (and worse, aren’t even in
the index).
There is a reason for this. Mr. Shih is an old-line industrialist, even
though his product vision in this book happens to be internetware. His
preoccupation with quality manufacturing and point of value-addition overlook
enormous social changes burbling away beneath Asia’s corporate-speak. There
is no mention, perhaps not even a recognition, of the major generational gaps
which divide Asia today which will turn into chasms over the next 25 years.
Mr. Shih is of the “Grand Generation” of major corporate and political
leaders who shaped the region from fifty to twenty years ago. This generation
carved out the great trade and industrial empires and set into motion the
political attitudes that dominate the region today. This Old Guard is now in
its 70s and 80s. Although the 25 years of a generation separates the Old
Guard from their sons—today’s middle managers now coming into directorships,
only one thing tends to separate them in their value systems: today’s 40s to
60s were largely educated overseas and look to the West for models and
inspiration (indeed, as does Mr. Shih throughout the book).
But the students Mr. Shih was addressing at Chiaotung University were raised
in a radically different atmosphere: the internet, the computer at home, and
now the group games. To walk into a Singapore or Bangkok cybercafe that
caters to the tweeny generation is an unnerving experience. The roar when you
open the door is reminiscent of the scene in Tom Wolfe’s “Bonfire of the
Vanities” in which someone opens the door of the N.Y. Stock Exchange trading
floor and is hit by a great roaring wall of sound that sounds like, well, the
Masters of the Universe at work.
That’s what it is like to be around Asia’s tweenies and early
thirtysomethings (all males, by the way). In their conversation, in their
group gaming, in their a-political and a-corporate views of their future,
they are not really rebellious, but they are of such a different mindset that
the ideas of Mr. Shih must come across to them as precambrian. The younger
generation has their elders figured out with a clarity that would induce
apoplexy in the older generation if only they knew of it. But they don’t
know. Older Asia hasn’t a clue what younger Asia is thinking. That is what is
so disturbing about thinking—no matter how well-intended—like this from Mr.
Shih:
“In Asia, business diversity in the past was achieved through protectionism,
the dominance of financial conglomerates, and collusion between government
and business; in the diverse business environment of the new, freer
economy, the question is: can you stay focused competitively? If you don’t
excel at what you do, how can you compete?”
True enough, but there is not a single new idea in this paragraph, and
unfortunately, not many more in the rest of the book. Tellingly, there are
only two bibliographical references in lieu of a bibliography. One of them is
his own 1996 book Me Too Is Not My Style and the other is Tom Peters’ and
Robert Waterman’s 1988 largely discredited In Search of Excellence.