Tsukuba Science City can be awe-inspiring or a specter, depending on
how you choose to look at it. The time was Wednesday morning, and Tam
and I were viewing the place through the tinted windows of Matsuo
Noda's personal DNI limo, the black Nissan she knew so well. From the
vantage of an elevated freeway packed with rows of sleek Hondas and
Toyotas sparkling in the cold December sunshine, we could see the
silhouettes of cluster after cluster of modernistic concrete towers, an
urban complex of a hundred and fifty thousand souls rising above what
was, only a few short years ago, mostly farms. Be that as it may, take
my word for it that nobody's growing radishes there today. Science
City, nestled in the foothills of Mt. Tsukuba some fifty kilometers
northeast of downtown Tokyo, represents a government investment,
including the industrial park once the site of Expo '85, of over thirty
billion dollars.
Tsukuba is holy ground, the place of heroes, where kamikazes once
trained for their suicide missions against the American fleet. Now it
is one of the largest research centers in the world, with almost ten
thousand scientists and fifty separate laboratories and scientific
institutes. As we neared the first complex, I tried to make sense of
all the Dali-esque curved buildings that housed Japan's new brain
trust. From the outside you can tell something is going on, but it
seems secretive and proprietary. It is. The thing I had to keep
reminding myself, though, was that none of this was for military
boondoggles. It was aimed dead-on at industrial technology. E.g.,
there's research here on high-energy lasers all right, but they're not
intended for zapping some hypothetical Soviet satellite; they're part
of the world's largest laser-radar telescope, which can project beams
out more than thirty miles to analyze air quality. In short, the work
here was applications-oriented, practical, and--get a firm grip on your
wallet-- commercial.
Together with Noda and his bodyguard/chauffeur we were headed for the
Electrotechnical Institute, where he was about to give us our first
glimpse of Japan's new high-tech empire. That lab just so happened to
be the place where heavy work was underway on applications of the
artificial intelligence effort of Kenji Asano's Fifth Generation shop.
It was merely the first stop, however, in an odyssey Noda claimed would
take us through the hidden heart of Japan's industrial future.
Noda reported he had spoken with Kenji Asano, who was unfortunately
tied up in meetings and couldn't join us until tomorrow. Thus Tam had
not yet had her chance to hear his account of MITI's sudden new
interest in Dai Nippon's program. All the same, Noda claimed to welcome
Ken's arrival.
"Whatever concerns you may have, I'm sure he will be more than happy to
address them," declared the president of Dai Nippon.
Tam had tried on her own to reach Ken at his office, without success.
Maybe, I thought to myself, he just didn't want to talk. In any case
that quandary remained unresolved.
The way I saw the situation, though, we had enough to deal with merely
getting through today. Noda's game was no longer a game. He was going
to take us to the top of the mountain, show us the other side, and then
. . . what? Whatever it was, that part would have to be handled in due
time. For now his intentions seemed to be to drive home a singular
point: if you think Dai Nippon has been playing hardball with money,
wait till you see Japan's real action. He was going to lay bare the
empire, the awesome machine he now had at his command. The payoff of
Tsukuba, he explained, was intended to be nothing less than total
technological supremacy.
The limo was slowing to a stop in front of an oddly shaped concrete
building, brand-new, that covered several acres with cones and hexagons
and various geometries. We'd arrived.
"This is the Electrotechnical Institute, research center for Japan's
Advanced Robot Technology Project." He pointed. The laboratory appeared
to be somebody's idea of what architecture would be in the twenty-first
century, a sort of Japanese spaceship splattered across a vast acreage.
"The work underway here and over at the Mechanical Engineering lab is
intended to coordinate all government and private research on
industrial robots."
He stepped out and motioned for us to join him. Our top- secret tour
had begun. As we walked toward the main entryway, he delivered an
opening summary.
"Here we have allocated twenty billion yen, about a hundred and fifty
million dollars, for an eight-year research program to perfect a range
of industrial robots." He continued while we walked past the small gray
metallic sign, in both Japanese and English, that identified the
Institute. "It is being closely coordinated with the spin-offs of the
Fifth Generation AI work."
I noticed that no guards were posted, though the metal doors were
tightly sealed. Noda didn't bother to take out a key as he proceeded.
"The Advanced Robot Technology Project coordinates the research of over
twenty corporations as well as R&D at various universities, and this
lab is where we integrate all the results of that work."
"You mean different parts or robots are being created at separate
research operations, then brought together here?" I probably shouldn't
have been surprised by the tight, nationwide coordination. Typical
Japan.
"Precisely. Robots have a multiplicity of elements. There are
manipulators, the mechanical versions of our hands; then there are the
senses of vision and touch; and finally there is movement, locomotion.
Each of these is being developed individually, then combined here. For
example, if a robot is to understand voice commands--in effect making
its operator a programmer--then it must incorporate the speech
recognition work of the Fifth Generation Project, which will supply the
eyes, the ears, the brain."
Maybe that's where Asano comes in, I thought. Could it be he's the
point man here for artificial intelligence, on board to oversee
creating the computerized brains for all these babies. Was he yet
another DNI operative, witting or unwitting, just as Tam and I had
been?
Noda's lecture was still underway. "The first generation of robots does
things by rote, the same motion repeated dumbly over and over again.
What we call the second generation are those with crude sensing
abilities, perhaps touch pads or video, though they are still
stationary." He placed his hand over a small screen by the door. A
light flashed under his palm---presumably allowing a computer somewhere
to analyze his handprint--and a second later the door slid open. Then he
continued, "The goal of the work here is a third-generation robot. You
might almost call it a functional 'android,' since it will be able to
move, see, and think much as we do. Whether it will actually look like
a human is another matter, but that's not necessarily even a useful
objective."
Intelligent monsters in silicon and steel, I found myself thinking. All
our fantasies, or nightmares, come to life.
I didn't have to look far to see that they were already in the womb. We
were entering the main laboratory floor now, surrounded by what seemed
a Martian landscape of mechanical creatures. The place was bustling,
yet spotless as a hospital ward. Noda acknowledged the deep bows of
several of the shirt-sleeved staff, then continued.
"Although visitors are not normally permitted in the sensitive areas
here, I have arranged total-access priority for you both. I consider
you among the few Americans today who can understand the strategic
significance of this program."
If Matsuo Noda was really saying that he intended to give us a sobering
dose of Japan's impending high-tech clout, he was off to a bang-up
start.
Then he turned and greeted a short, white-uniformed man. "Allow me to
introduce Dr. Noburu Matsugami, who is senior staff specialist for the
program here. Dr. Matsugami will be your guide today."
Matsugami was close to fifty and balding, with short- cropped hair that
seemed to stand out on the sides of his head like the bristles of a
metal brush. He was bowing to Noda every other second, as though he'd
just been summoned by God. He attempted a smile, then greeted us in
Japanese, followed by accented English.
I surveyed the floor--steel and aluminum and computers-- feeling as if I
could have been on another planet. Tam, strangely, had said scarcely a
word the whole time. She probably knew about a lot of this, but surely
not the proprietary, advanced devices.
Noda's glimpse of Japan's industrial "Manhattan Project" was one of the
most memorable experiences of my life. Although I suspect the devices
he let Matsugami show us were just the toys, they still were enough to
leave no doubt where things were headed.
Without going into the classified details, let me attempt to describe a
few of the items I still remember. I was particularly impressed by the
Waseda University/Hitachi walking robot WHL-II, which uses advanced
machine technology and computer control to move just as a human does,
two-legged style. Its hydraulic steel joints and carbon-fiber muscles,
together with its computerized foot sensors, give it walking skills
better than most young humans'. Its brain of course is a
microprocessor, programmed to let it walk in different styles, just as
we do. Other mobile robots had four legs, even six--such as the Titan
III, which we saw climb up a set of stairs like a metallic sci-fi
spider.
As for robot hands, the most advanced also were from Hitachi's
mechanical engineering research lab. Unlike most robot grippers, little
more than glorified vises, this one had three fingers (which Matsugami
claimed were more agile than a version at MIT) whose "muscles" were a
heat-sensitive metal (invented in the U.S.) that would contract when an
electric current passed through.
Vision research was also well advanced. A Matsushita robot equipped
with a computerized "eye" was able to analyze the lines and shadows of
a human face and then draw a black-and- white sketch like a sidewalk
artist. Even more amazing, a robot with a TV-camera eye--developed
jointly by Waseda University and Sumitomo Electric--could read sheet
music and play it on a keyboard using mechanical fingers. This android
pianist employed recent advances in artificial intelligence to
determine the best fingering for each phrase and even took requests for
tunes in spoken Japanese. Play it again, HAL. Other robots with "voice
recognition" capability allowed a human operator simply to sit in one
spot and command the mobile machine where to go and what to do.
At one point Tam asked Matsugami for a candid opinion on how far along
he thought the Advanced Robot-Technology Program had progressed. Well,
he replied, sucking in his breath pensively, the manual dexterity
problem was about licked: the robot arms now being perfected could pick
up anything and move it anywhere. Vision and programmable intelligence
were harder, but he felt their research was getting close. Already he
had robots that could analyze and interpret 3-D objects and scenes,
enabling them to maneuver around a factory floor and make decisions of
almost human complexity. The ultimate objective was factory-wide
systems for Computer-Integrated Manufacturing (CIM) that would allow
every operation of a company, from design to engineering to
manufacturing, to be controlled by computer via a single data base. It
was cheap, and it elevated quality control to a hundred percent. No
doubt about it, he said, as Japan moved to automate manufacturing and
get on with an information- industry future, these smart robots would
be their secret weapon.
The Institute's mechanical menagerie, I realized, was what the next
century was going to look like. Except it was here now. As Matsugami
took us through lab after lab, it became clear that the Japanese
"third-generation" functionoid robot was all but a reality.
Noda's message was clear. Already Japan was spending twice as much on
new manufacturing technology as America was. They led the world in
robotics and that lead was growing. With the coming of that third
generation--robots that could
see, move, and think--world industrial leadership would be up for grabs.
These were the stakes Japan was betting on the twenty-first century.
Anybody who planned to play against them better have something on the
table too.
At the end of the tour as dusk was beginning to settle in, Noda
reappeared and escorted us back to the limo. And that's when he laid it
out.
"Dr. Richardson, what you and Mr. Walton have just seen is merely a
glimpse of the real peril to America's future." He was closing the door
of the car. "There is much, much more . . . projects such as the rapid
commercialization of superconductivity. America's world supremacy is at
a crossroads."
"Why are you showing us this?" Tam was still troubled by the same
question that was eating at me.
"Very simple, really. Thus far we have, together, attempted to address
some of the more egregious ineptitudes in America's corporate
management. Our success in that, if I may say, has already been
substantial. However, the best-managed organization cannot flourish
without the tools required to take it the next step. That translates as
technology." He paused, then looked at us both. "Do you understand what
I'm saying?"
"Japan now has the technology, just as it has the money," Tam answered.
"You are correct. Thus far Dai Nippon has merely provided a conduit to
infuse capital into the American industrial scene. That was the easy
part. The task remaining will be much more difficult." He looked at us.
"Difficult because, for this, America must share in return."
"You want to make a deal, I take it." I finally spoke. Funny, but I
thought I sounded a little like Faust beginning negotiations with the
devil.
He smiled. "That is a blunt way of describing what I am about to
suggest, Mr. Walton, but it does capture the spirit of my proposal.
America excels in basic research, Japan in applied research, in
engineering. The time has come to join forces."
"How?"
"As you have seen, the monetary resources at Dai Nippon's disposal make
it possible for us to wield significant influence." He smiled.
"Japanese capital has been brought to America; Japanese technology can
be brought as well."
"At a price."
"At a price, yes. But a modest one really." He smiled again, then
buzzed for his driver to start the car. "Let me put it like this. If
you choose to proceed with me in the next step of Dai Nippon's program,
I will arrange for everything you have seen today to be my gift to
America. All I ask from you both is complete cooperation in the days
ahead. Together we can forge an informal alliance between Japan and
America that could alter the course of world history. But it must be
done in an atmosphere of complete trust."
Tam was astonished. "You'd make this manufacturing technology available
to American industry? Why?"
"As part of a quid pro quo, Dr. Richardson. It's quite simple. In
return I would expect complete access to the R&D in the firms Dai
Nippon has acquired." He stared back through his rimless glasses.
"Which, I gather, is a notion you find a trifle unsettling."
You bastard, I thought. You did have my phone tapped. How else could
you have known what she was thinking?
She shot me a telling glance. "How does all this fit in with the new
MITI guidance we're suddenly getting?"
"That is a separate matter, Dr. Richardson, which we will address in
due course. What I am concerned with now is something else entirely--the
final step in restoring America to economic health. The first
requirement was long-term capital and better management, which Dai
Nippon has now begun to provide. The next is technology, a small
foretaste of which I have shown you today."
Was this, I wondered, the big picture, the _kan _we'd been trying to
get a handle on?
"What I'm proposing," Noda continued, "is that together we become
partners in the creation of a massive Japanese- American consortium.
Perhaps we could call it Nipponica."
"Nipponica?" She kept her tone even.
"The name has an interesting ring to it, does it not? As I envision the
organization, you would be its American CEO." He paused. "I would chair
the board." Then he turned to me. "And you, Mr. Walton, could be
invaluable as chief corporate counsel."
The man had gone totally mad. Or had he?
"I still don't understand how this venture could be brought together.
You'd be dealing with hundreds of companies, a worldwide management
headache."
"Mr. Walton, what other choice do we have? Given the precipitous
decline of America's global leadership, together with Japan's economic
and technological rise, there can be only two possible outcomes of the
inevitable direction affairs are headed: bankruptcy for us both, or
war. The time has come for risk-taking, for a belief in the human
spirit. We each need the other more than our political leaders can
allow themselves to admit, and thus steps must be taken outside normal
diplomatic channels to bring us closer together." He continued, in
perfect form, "Both America and Japan would benefit from a commingling
of our industry and research. We would learn from each other, find
strength in unity, realize a common perspective on global concerns. Our
economies would be joined, our peoples united. Instead of friction and
the saber rattling of trade disputes, we would have the harmony of a
single enterprise."
"Who exactly is going to finance and operate this undertaking?" I was
listening to him describe his planned-for Utopia with increasing
skepticism. But he had already rocked America, and Japan, to the core.
Not a man to underestimate.
"As you might suppose, Dai Nippon would, by virtue of its present
situation, be ideally suited to lay the groundwork." He glanced out the
tinted windows. "Afterward the political processes of both countries
would naturally have no choice but to follow our lead, ratifying--as
they always do--conditions that have already become a _fait accompli_."
It had all the easy resonance of a grand historical venture, except . .
. except what if this was still _ken_, superficialities, not _kan_, the
real truth?
"Before we go any further, I think Dr. Richardson and I should talk
this over." I looked up to see the Tsukuba Hotel, where we were
scheduled to stay overnight. Noda had made other accommodations for
himself, saying he also needed to drop by the Metallurgy Lab and check
to see how work was going on the sword. My scheduled viewing was to be
tomorrow.
"I agree." Tam looked at me sharply. "We can discuss this more in the
morning."
"As you wish." The limo was pulling to a stop. "Tomorrow should be an
interesting day for you both. We can continue our discussions then." He
smiled. "However, be aware that time is of the essence."
With that parting shot, the long black Nissan sped away.
"Tam, let's see if this place has a bar. I need a drink."
"Double." She was carrying the small overnight bag Noda's New York
staff had handed her as we left. I had one too, just a shirt and
essentials.
The hotel saloon was modernistic, vinyl, and leaned heavily toward
Japanese beer and Suntory whiskey. By now some middle-level executives
were getting off work at the labs and dropping in to start their usual
evening round of drinking, but at this early hour it was still sparsely
occupied.
We headed for a comer table and ordered a couple of draft Kirin. After
the beers arrived, we got down to brass tacks.
What the hell was Noda's real agenda?
Two heads, so the saying goes, are better than one. I don't know, could
be they're worse. Because as Tam and I sat there, Noda's offer to head
up some kind of new world consortium dangling before us, what our two
heads came up with was the scariest thing that'd ever crossed my path.
Maybe it was the thought of America's working stiffs, whose jobs Noda
supposedly was so determined to save. Trouble was, I didn't buy that in
the slightest anymore. So what made any sense?
Simple. Why not the most obvious answer of all? Noda wasn't doing this
for them. Or for Japan. That wasn't his game. Noda was planning this
grand design for Noda.
"Tam." I sipped at my beer. "Did you believe a word of what he said?"
"Of course not. At least not the United Nations speech. It's pure
hogwash."
"Totally agree. But he's about to do something big, I'm convinced."
"Got any ideas."
Luckily the place was getting noisier now, so nobody could have been
listening even if they'd tried. Which was the very reason I wanted to
talk in the bar and not in either of our rooms. Who knew the reach of
Noda's electronic ears?
"Not really. But what if we stepped back a second and tried looking at
this latest move from a longer view. Maybe we've been tangled up in the
trees, missing the forest."
"We've seen plenty of forest lately."
"But what if it's the wrong one? Let's try the _teki ni naru to iu koto
_strategy, become the enemy. Pretend for a minute we're Noda, a guy
who's got it all--money, clout, everything. So why
does he all of a sudden want to come across the Pacific and buy himself
a load of industrial headaches, then hand them Japan's technology?"
"It's MITI somehow. I'm convinced that's the key. Which is why I'm
going to nail Ken."
"Well, let's not jump to conclusions. I'm wondering. What if Dai Nippon
is taking over American industry not because it's strategic to MITI as
those memos we found would lead us to think. What if the reason is
because it's strategic to Noda?"
"But why?"
"What if his relationship to that ministry is something totally
different from what it seems?"
"Well, if MITI's not behind the buy-ups, then who're they for?"
I sat a minute, again trying to think like Noda. "What if this scenario
is actually aimed at . . . what if it's a global power play?"