If you hadn’t heard of American Factory before this year's Oscars, you likely have now. The 115-minute film took home the award for Best Documentary, and in doing so drew attention to a central issue of the 21st century American economy: the relationship between domestic manufacturing and foreign capital, and vice versa. The rhetoric characterizing our national discussion on manufacturing is often crafted to support a narrative, and can range from self-serving to downright inflammatory. It is thus frequently tinged with some form of bias. In telling the story of a Chinese manufacturer’s attempt to resuscitate an abandoned factory in Ohio, American Factory cuts through the politically charged noise surrounding the modern US manufacturing sector to arrive at the truth—or at least some version of it.
The documentary captures the excitement Fuyao’s investment in Dayton initially sparked in the local community, where many residents had been GM employees until the plant’s closing 6 years prior. Fuyao saw a chance to jumpstart its North American operation with a workforce and facility well equipped for large scale production. Dayton and its residents saw jobs, opportunity, and general revitalization of an area still smarting from the departure of another manufacturing giant. Neither party foresaw the real cultural conflicts and economic power struggles American Factory would explore.
The tension inherent in the story stems from Fuyao’s decision to send several hundred employees from its headquarters, spanning all levels of the company’s hierarchy, to help kick off the Moraine operation. In investigating the ensuing ideological clash, the film demonstrates a remarkable knack for switching seamlessly between the perspective of these Chinese incumbents brought to oversee the factory’s launch and the newly hired American workers. It quickly becomes apparent that the difference between running a large manufacturing operation in China and in America lies less in politics or infrastructure than it does in people.
The managers’ skepticism about their American employees soon turns to outright disappointment. In describing them in a report to Fuyao’s chairman, one supervisor describes them as inefficient, mistake prone, and slow to catch on. “We keep training them over and over,” he laments. Blame for quality issues with some of the early glass produced at the location quickly falls on the shoulders of the American workforce. In some of American Factory’s most candid shots, even American leaders at the plant have negative things to say about the work ethic and productivity of their compatriots.
The documentary is not just a labor versus management story, however. Many of the rank-and-file Chinese workers offer revealing tidbits about the difference between themselves and the Americans. They express confusion at the paramount importance placed upon workplace safety, for instance, and in some cases are downright scornful of the American 40-hour workweek. For Fuyao’s Chinese employees, the success of the company supersedes their own health and happiness. What this says about the intersection of Chinese politics and Chinese culture is an open question that American Factory leaves to viewers to consider.
From the American perspective, nostalgia for that shuttered GM plant is perhaps the dominant theme conveyed by the documentary. In one-on-one interviews with employees that worked at both GM and Fuyao, many express mixed feelings about the new operation. There’s real gratitude for jobs and opportunities that didn’t exist in the gulf between GM and Fuyao, but it’s cut with a feeling that things aren’t the same as they were pre-2008—not even close. Wages are lower at the new plant, on average. Benefits are marginal. And there’s no question the top brass at the company has higher expectations for commitment and productivity than what was considered reasonable by the original occupant of the Moraine site.
This discontent quickly bubbles to the surface in efforts to unionize. Fuyao, unsurprisingly, attracted the attention of the United Auto Workers with its scale and, in comparison with the union jobs of decades past, unfair labor practices. Chinese leadership is blunt about what will happen if the plant is unionized. Fuyao’s communication with employees about the UAW’s meddling will be seen by some as manipulative. To others, it may come across as downright threatening. Still, American Factory doesn’t villainize the company. It imparts a real sense that the issue in Ohio is not clear cut or one sided. It does justice to the tangled web of the global manufacturing sector by showing the issues for what they are: complex.
The union didn’t take hold at Fuyao’s new plant. 6 years after the company announced plans to move to Ohio, it’s going strong. Now the third largest employer in the Dayton area, the company just last month announced plans to further expand its presence in the area. American Factory’s Oscar will further highlight the complicated story still being told there. The real takeaway from the film may be that the situation at Fuyao’s Ohio plant isn’t a uniquely modern one. Everything from tax policy to environmental regulation can and does influence the decisions of 2020’s multinational manufacturing juggernauts, but their biggest challenge today remains the same as it ever was—the humans that make them go.