wigstheone
Sep 5, 01, 7:52 am
RENTON, Wash. -- Not far from the steady blatt-blatt of the rivet guns on its 757 assembly line just outside Seattle sits what Boeing Co. calls its moonshine shop: The people here distill work-saving ideas into contraptions that make it easier to build jets.
Consider the hay loader next to an almost-completed 757. Normally, this cross between a ladder and a metal-spiked conveyor belt would be dumping bales of hay onto waiting trucks. But to veteran mechanic Robert Harms, the hay loader is the perfect way to get bulky passenger seats from the factory floor up 13 feet to the door of a plane without having to use an overhead crane. "It might look funny, but when you see it work, you wonder why we didn't do it this way all along," he says.
Moonshine shops -- so named because they work outside traditional channels and use whatever materials are available -- are the essence of Boeing Chairman Phil Condit's campaign to boost profits by driving out costly manufacturing techniques and the decades-old thinking behind them. From using materials developed for military aircraft to putting its big planes onto moving assembly lines for the first time, Boeing is retooling itself to confront tougher times.
Boeing's struggle to streamline the making of one of the biggest and most complicated industrial products mirrors what's happening on factory floors across the country, as manufacturers confront the economic slowdown. The difference for Boeing is that it's trying to accomplish this while still cranking out planes, not in the downtime between models.
Boeing executives are counting on this revamp to enable the company's commercial-airplane division to continue posting double-digit profit margins despite the slowing world economy and sharp decline in aircraft orders from the major airlines. At the same time, Europe's Airbus is increasingly becoming a formidable competitor. At the end of July, Airbus had a backlog of 1,602 orders, compared with 1,451 for Boeing, according to the companies.
Both giants are developing major new models, but they are based on different views of where the market is heading. Airbus believes that increasing congestion at airports will give its planned 555-seat A380 the edge with customers. Boeing's big bet for winning back market share is a radical new airliner called the Sonic Cruiser that would carry around 230 passengers at just below the speed of sound. But the Cruiser will never fly unless Boeing can cut the fast plane's fuel guzzling by making it cheaper, lighter and aerodynamically superior to current aircraft.
The Writing on the Wall
For Mr. Condit the writing is on the wall. "It is hard to make big changes when you are the leader," he says, " ... until somebody starts eating your lunch."
Boeing has been gradually adopting "lean" manufacturing techniques since the early 1990s -- a decade after the U.S. auto industry began emulating the Japanese approach. The basic philosophy: Everything from the design of a component to the machine used to build it is examined with the goal of making it as easy as possible for workers to boost output using less space and fewer movements.
Since late 1998, when the company began applying lean activities on its newest model, the 777, the time it takes to assemble the major components into a finished aircraft has dropped to 37 days from 71. And just since April, the company has trimmed two days out of what was a 20-day final assembly of its best-selling plane, the 737.
The impact of these moves can be seen in the operating margins of the commercial-airplane division, Boeing's largest and the source of 61% of its 2000 revenue of $51.32 billion. In 1998, the unit's profit margin was 1%. For the first six months of this year, margins hit 10.2%, despite falling revenues. Although some of the gain comes from Boeing's increasing unwillingness to get into price wars with Airbus, executives also say lean manufacturing has made a big impact. Says Mr. Condit: "You can see some very dramatic shifts."
Seattle-area workers got their strongest taste yet of where Boeing is going in April. That's when the company began converting one of its three 737 assembly lines in Renton to a moving line from the traditional bays in which planes are parked among fixed catwalks and other machinery for days at a time. Now, once the wings and landing gear are attached, each plane is dragged by a giant tug toward the door at two inches a minute for two shifts a day. The goal is to shove an aircraft out the door in about five days, down from the 11 days it now takes.
The workers move with the airplane on a float-like contraption. Rather than having mechanics waste time walking back and forth to retrieve tools or parts, specific items for each job are wheeled to waiting spots along the line.
"The moving line adds a sense of urgency because you can look at the airplane and tell when the work is even just a few minutes behind schedule," says Carolyn Corvi, 737 program manager. At several places along the line, devices resembling emergency call boxes with traffic lights on top have been set up so that workers can alert support departments to problems that might slow or stop the line. In one engineering group, the flashing light is accompanied by a recording of Aretha Franklin's "Rescue Me" to bring help running.
Hundreds of Millions on the Floor
It's all about reducing the expensive inventory that once sat around for weeks. Up until a year ago, it was common to see shipping containers loaded with everything from seats to $15 million engines stacked in every corner of Boeing's factories. For Boeing, that translated into hundreds of millions of dollars a year that was sitting idle on the floor.
Today, the engines are delivered when they are needed. Overall inventories have been reduced by 42%, and small "feeder" lines are assembling components that once were brought to the airplanes in hundreds of separate pieces.
Over the next three to four years, Boeing says it may use some form of moving assembly line to help speed up production on all of its jet models, including the dowager of its fleet, the 747 jumbo jet. In June, workers painted a white stripe down the center of the 747 assembly bay in Everett, Wash., highlighting the path that the moving line would follow. Then in July, the 747 nearest the factory exit was aligned with the stripe, and crews began experimenting with new techniques for getting parts and people up to the towering aircraft. They are now finishing their second 747 in this position, creatively employing everything from food catering trucks to giant lifts in a bid to make the process more efficient.
On Edge
Already on edge since the company announced that it would be moving its headquarters to Chicago from Seattle this month, rank-and-file workers were at first reluctant to accept the changes in the Renton plant, venting some of their frustration at the moonshine workers. The union has filed several grievances against work turned out by the moonshine shops, alleging that the freewheeling nature of the shops' operations has resulted in the failure to use union electricians and toolmakers to do specialized work. The company says it is working to resolve the union's complaints, but it contends that the ability of the hand-picked moonshine teams to move quickly is paramount.
Mr. Harms, the 52-year-old mechanic who led the effort to modify the hay loader to move seats, recalls the day when he arrived for work and found a note attached to his contraption. It read: "Idiots running amok."
"That sign kind of serves as our inspiration because once it started running, that loader has made believers out of people," he says.
Gordy Laborde, a 48-year-old mechanic who has been installing interiors in Boeing 757s for 13 years, counts himself among the converted. "I looked at that hay loader from every angle and I could not see how it was going to work. You do something for so many years one way, and something like this really takes you out of your comfort zone."
http://interactive.wsj.com/articles/SB999640851134974894.htm
Consider the hay loader next to an almost-completed 757. Normally, this cross between a ladder and a metal-spiked conveyor belt would be dumping bales of hay onto waiting trucks. But to veteran mechanic Robert Harms, the hay loader is the perfect way to get bulky passenger seats from the factory floor up 13 feet to the door of a plane without having to use an overhead crane. "It might look funny, but when you see it work, you wonder why we didn't do it this way all along," he says.
Moonshine shops -- so named because they work outside traditional channels and use whatever materials are available -- are the essence of Boeing Chairman Phil Condit's campaign to boost profits by driving out costly manufacturing techniques and the decades-old thinking behind them. From using materials developed for military aircraft to putting its big planes onto moving assembly lines for the first time, Boeing is retooling itself to confront tougher times.
Boeing's struggle to streamline the making of one of the biggest and most complicated industrial products mirrors what's happening on factory floors across the country, as manufacturers confront the economic slowdown. The difference for Boeing is that it's trying to accomplish this while still cranking out planes, not in the downtime between models.
Boeing executives are counting on this revamp to enable the company's commercial-airplane division to continue posting double-digit profit margins despite the slowing world economy and sharp decline in aircraft orders from the major airlines. At the same time, Europe's Airbus is increasingly becoming a formidable competitor. At the end of July, Airbus had a backlog of 1,602 orders, compared with 1,451 for Boeing, according to the companies.
Both giants are developing major new models, but they are based on different views of where the market is heading. Airbus believes that increasing congestion at airports will give its planned 555-seat A380 the edge with customers. Boeing's big bet for winning back market share is a radical new airliner called the Sonic Cruiser that would carry around 230 passengers at just below the speed of sound. But the Cruiser will never fly unless Boeing can cut the fast plane's fuel guzzling by making it cheaper, lighter and aerodynamically superior to current aircraft.
The Writing on the Wall
For Mr. Condit the writing is on the wall. "It is hard to make big changes when you are the leader," he says, " ... until somebody starts eating your lunch."
Boeing has been gradually adopting "lean" manufacturing techniques since the early 1990s -- a decade after the U.S. auto industry began emulating the Japanese approach. The basic philosophy: Everything from the design of a component to the machine used to build it is examined with the goal of making it as easy as possible for workers to boost output using less space and fewer movements.
Since late 1998, when the company began applying lean activities on its newest model, the 777, the time it takes to assemble the major components into a finished aircraft has dropped to 37 days from 71. And just since April, the company has trimmed two days out of what was a 20-day final assembly of its best-selling plane, the 737.
The impact of these moves can be seen in the operating margins of the commercial-airplane division, Boeing's largest and the source of 61% of its 2000 revenue of $51.32 billion. In 1998, the unit's profit margin was 1%. For the first six months of this year, margins hit 10.2%, despite falling revenues. Although some of the gain comes from Boeing's increasing unwillingness to get into price wars with Airbus, executives also say lean manufacturing has made a big impact. Says Mr. Condit: "You can see some very dramatic shifts."
Seattle-area workers got their strongest taste yet of where Boeing is going in April. That's when the company began converting one of its three 737 assembly lines in Renton to a moving line from the traditional bays in which planes are parked among fixed catwalks and other machinery for days at a time. Now, once the wings and landing gear are attached, each plane is dragged by a giant tug toward the door at two inches a minute for two shifts a day. The goal is to shove an aircraft out the door in about five days, down from the 11 days it now takes.
The workers move with the airplane on a float-like contraption. Rather than having mechanics waste time walking back and forth to retrieve tools or parts, specific items for each job are wheeled to waiting spots along the line.
"The moving line adds a sense of urgency because you can look at the airplane and tell when the work is even just a few minutes behind schedule," says Carolyn Corvi, 737 program manager. At several places along the line, devices resembling emergency call boxes with traffic lights on top have been set up so that workers can alert support departments to problems that might slow or stop the line. In one engineering group, the flashing light is accompanied by a recording of Aretha Franklin's "Rescue Me" to bring help running.
Hundreds of Millions on the Floor
It's all about reducing the expensive inventory that once sat around for weeks. Up until a year ago, it was common to see shipping containers loaded with everything from seats to $15 million engines stacked in every corner of Boeing's factories. For Boeing, that translated into hundreds of millions of dollars a year that was sitting idle on the floor.
Today, the engines are delivered when they are needed. Overall inventories have been reduced by 42%, and small "feeder" lines are assembling components that once were brought to the airplanes in hundreds of separate pieces.
Over the next three to four years, Boeing says it may use some form of moving assembly line to help speed up production on all of its jet models, including the dowager of its fleet, the 747 jumbo jet. In June, workers painted a white stripe down the center of the 747 assembly bay in Everett, Wash., highlighting the path that the moving line would follow. Then in July, the 747 nearest the factory exit was aligned with the stripe, and crews began experimenting with new techniques for getting parts and people up to the towering aircraft. They are now finishing their second 747 in this position, creatively employing everything from food catering trucks to giant lifts in a bid to make the process more efficient.
On Edge
Already on edge since the company announced that it would be moving its headquarters to Chicago from Seattle this month, rank-and-file workers were at first reluctant to accept the changes in the Renton plant, venting some of their frustration at the moonshine workers. The union has filed several grievances against work turned out by the moonshine shops, alleging that the freewheeling nature of the shops' operations has resulted in the failure to use union electricians and toolmakers to do specialized work. The company says it is working to resolve the union's complaints, but it contends that the ability of the hand-picked moonshine teams to move quickly is paramount.
Mr. Harms, the 52-year-old mechanic who led the effort to modify the hay loader to move seats, recalls the day when he arrived for work and found a note attached to his contraption. It read: "Idiots running amok."
"That sign kind of serves as our inspiration because once it started running, that loader has made believers out of people," he says.
Gordy Laborde, a 48-year-old mechanic who has been installing interiors in Boeing 757s for 13 years, counts himself among the converted. "I looked at that hay loader from every angle and I could not see how it was going to work. You do something for so many years one way, and something like this really takes you out of your comfort zone."
http://interactive.wsj.com/articles/SB999640851134974894.htm