Select Page

John B. Marek is a writer, farmer, outdoorsman and recovering economic developer. You can find his books at johnbmarek.com.

The 1980s were a period of dramatic economic transformation in the United States. As the smokestacks of American industry sputtered, a new economic powerhouse emerged in the East. Fueled by post-war reconstruction, technological innovation and a laser focus on manufacturing efficiency, Japanese companies began flooding the American market with innovative, high-quality, often lower-priced goods. From automobiles like Toyotas and Hondas to consumer electronics like Sony TVs and Walkmans, Japanese products dominated store shelves.

American consumers, facing stagnant wages and declining manufacturing jobs, felt the pinch. Headlines blared about trade deficits and the erosion of American manufacturing dominance. Politicians fanned the flames, highlighting the threat of “foreign competition” and the loss of American jobs. This phenomenon, which some called “Japangst,” captured the national anxiety surrounding Japan’s seemingly unstoppable rise.

But Japangst wasn’t just about economics; it tapped into a more profound cultural unease. The “American Dream” – the notion of upward mobility through hard work – seemed to be faltering. The image of the blue-collar worker, a cornerstone of American identity, was threatened by the rise of automation and foreign competition. Popular media often portrayed the American blue-collar worker as lazy and unintelligent while portraying Japanese workers as wiley and diligent. 

The response to the Japanese “threat” was multifaceted. American colleges began adding Japanese business practices like 5S and quality circles to their curriculums. As a college student in the ’80s, I can confirm the extent to which Japanese concepts were lauded as the cutting edge of business. 

As the products of those colleges worked their way up corporate ladders in the late ’80s and early ’90s, American companies began to adopt Japanese manufacturing practices like “just-in-time” inventory management and Poka-Yoke to improve efficiency. 

There were also calls for protectionist trade policies to shield American industries from Japanese competition. Instead of outright quotas, the U.S. pressured Japan to adopt voluntary export restrictions (VERs) on certain products, particularly automobiles. This meant Japan “voluntarily” agreed to limit exports to the U.S., essentially functioning as a quota without a formal declaration. In some cases, the U.S. imposed targeted tariffs on specific Japanese goods like luxury cars or certain types of electronics. These tariffs made Japanese imports more expensive for American consumers, discouraging purchases and potentially giving American competitors an edge.

The popular culture of the day also reflected Japangst. The 1986 film “Gung Ho“ tells the story of an American auto plant on the verge of closure. To save jobs, the company enters a joint venture with a Japanese corporation, leading to a clash of cultures and management styles. The film satirizes the perceived threat of Japanese efficiency while highlighting the desperation of American workers facing unemployment.

Though not as explicit as “Gung Ho,” Styx’s 1983 hit song “Mr. Roboto” can be interpreted as a commentary on automation and the fear of foreign competition. The song features a robotic character taking over jobs, potentially referencing the rise of Japanese automation in manufacturing. The lyric “with parts made in Japan” adds another layer of meaning to the song. That same year, Pink Floyd’s “Not Now John” tackled the perceived “wiley Japanese” threat through the lens of British factory workers. In the video, a Japanese staffer industriously welds a steel beam throughout the entire runtime while his distracted British counterparts falsify their time cards, drink coffee and ogle women. 

Ultimately, though, Japan is a relatively small country with few natural resources and an aging population. While Japan certainly punches above its weight, these factors ultimately limit its economic might. Our real fear should have been that a totalitarian country with massive resource reserves and a surfeit of near-slave labor would adopt those Japanese manufacturing principles.

Fortunately, Japan also served as a wake-up call. It forced the United States to confront its economic weaknesses and invest in research, development and education. The ’80s marked the beginning of a shift towards a more technology-based economy. American manufacturing realigned itself along a more quality-focused, speed-to-market path, paving the way for a domestic manufacturing renaissance.

While fears of a powerhouse Japan dominating the world economy may have been overblown, the story reminds us of the global economy’s ever-evolving nature. It’s a tale of competition, adaptation and the constant struggle to maintain a competitive edge in a world of interconnected markets.