Why Useless Workplace Processes Never Disappear: The True Nature of Waste as Seen in 'Tosho Daimos'

While aimlessly browsing YouTube, my eyes caught a video of an old robot anime that happened to appear in my recommendations.

'Tosho Daimos'.

It is one of the masterpieces of 'robot anime' broadcast in 1978.

It was so long ago that I don't even remember if I watched it back then, but

as a child, I was the kind of girl who, for some reason, wanted 'Chogokin' die-cast toys instead of cute stuffed animals at the toy store...

so I'm fairly familiar with robot anime, and I played it without much thought

but

15:27The robot boarding scene of the protagonist, Kazuya Ryuzaki, that starts at is so eccentric that I've lost count of how many times I've rewatched it.

*Please make sure to watch from after the 15-minute mark ↓

Usually, when you think of boarding a robot, you imagine a hatch opening and the pilot sitting directly in the cockpit, or perhaps being lifted up by an elevator, but

the boarding process for Daimos takes such a completely unexpected and complex series of steps.

While this is a common trope in robot anime,

the sheer number of steps is enough to leave you speechless.

With the intensity of the visuals,

'This boarding process is absolutely necessary!! (｀д´)o'

you are almost forced to accept it, but...

one simple question arises:

'Wouldn't it have been better to just be in the Tranzer (the giant trailer that transforms into the robot) from the start? ('A`)?'

What is the benefit of going out of your way to board a different vehicle, taking a detour, rejoining the trailer, and then creating the hassle of transferring inside?

Moreover, once the Triper (which looks like a supercar) boards the trailer, it's served its purpose. It's just dead weight.

As someone sensitive to waste, I cannot understand the purpose of the Triper's existence at all.

And, as always, it's a sense of déjà vu.

“Huh...? I feel like I've seen a similar scene at work”

At first glance, the 'super-troublesome boarding scene of Daimos' is laughable.

Actually, I thought it was exactly like that procedure at work that we silently perform every day while wondering, 'Does this even have any meaning?'

Why is boarding Daimos so troublesome?

To explain the tediousness of that procedure at work, I cannot avoid a detailed explanation of the Daimos boarding scene.

Though, saying that, I just really want to tell someone about it, so please forgive me ('A`)

Well then, let's look carefully at how wasteful—no, how precise—the boarding scene of 'Tōshō Daimos' is, step by step.

Step 1: Board the Triper

Kazuya boards a red, sports car-like vehicle called the 'Triper.' Kazuya speeds through the base's underground passage in the Triper. Since it's a hero's sortie, a cool car is essential.

Step 2: Tranzor, Go!

Upon leaving the base, Kazuya shouts 'Tranzor, Go!' inside the car. That's what we would call voice command today! It was ahead of its time. The engine of the
Tranzor located elsewhere ignites, and the 'Tranzor,' before transforming into a giant robot, launches. Here, pointing out that he should have just ridden the Tranzor from the start is forbidden.

Step 3: Justine!

As the Tryper speeds along,from the side of the road,the speeding Tranzacuts in,taking the lead. It completely ignores traffic laws.

At this moment, Kazuya shouts, "Justeen!" and drives his car straight into the rear door of the giant trailer speeding ahead.

Driving a car into a moving trailer from behind requires quite a bit of technique, but I suppose that's handled bythe magic of Justeen.

Step 4: Daimos, Battle Turn!

Once the Tryper is safely stored inside the Tranza, the roof of the sports car pops open, and the seat is forcefully ejected forward.

Wait, what!?

The Tryper is unexpectedlyuselessat this point.

The ejected seat travels through the interior of the Tranza to the cockpit. Once Kazuya reaches the cockpit and is strapped—no, secured—in, he shouts, "Daimos, Battle Turn!" and the trailer begins to transform into Daimos.

I thought the Tryper would play a role like a Core Fighter (a certain Earth Federation Forces small fighter) and transform and combine as the core of the robot, but it is unexpectedlyuseless.

The bright red sports car that used so much gasoline to speed here was nothing more than a "moving launch pad" just to eject the seat...

The gap between the high-tech transforming mecha and the low-tech, primitive approach of "physically ejecting the seat" is striking.

Should I call it the Showa-era jack-in-the-box style? I am truly sorry for my lack of vocabulary.

And it takes2 minutes and 43 secondsfrom the moment Daimos launches until it is in combat posture.

That's a bit faster than it takes to make cup noodles.

The enemies are also full of kindness, reading the room and refraining from attacking.

▶ Is Kazuya an excellent salesperson for a toy manufacturer!?

Why does the Daimos boarding scene have so many super-tedious steps?

If Kazuya's only goal was to "get to the scene as fast as possible and defeat the enemy robot," going through these tedious transformation steps is, by any measure, inefficient.

It would have been so much easier if he had just gotten into the Tranzor from the start ('A`)

However, if you take a step back from Kazuya's perspective on the front lines and shift your viewpoint to the 'sponsor (toy manufacturer),' the way you see things flips 180 degrees.

The sponsor's absolute mandate is not 'defeating the enemy' but

to 'sell toys to children'.

To achieve that goal, the show was (presumably) burdened with 'mandatory requirements' that could not be skipped.

• Show off the cool sports car (Tryper)

• Show off the massive trailer (Tranzor)

• Show off the gimmick of the car jumping into the trailer

• Show off the transformation process where the seat ejects to become the cockpit

• Of course, show the completed robot as well

As a result of trying to cover all of these, that complex boarding sequence—which you could call a crystallization of waste (sorry)—was born (presumably).

That 'approximately 2:43-long boarding sequence' was an extremely dense 'product presentation' that packed in as much of the appeal of the products the sponsor wanted to sell as possible (presumably).

Kazuya is not just a Daimos pilot fighting for his life; he is also an extremely talented 'salesman' who, every time he sorties, perfectly understands the sponsor's intentions and promotes the product's gimmicks without missing a beat.

Kazuya was diligently performing those tedious steps for the sake of the 'beneficiary' known as the sponsor.

By the way, the boarding sequence didn't always take '2:43' every episode, and there were times when the steps were shortened depending on the story, but I believe that from Kazuya's perspective, he was faithfully going through those steps every single time.

The same 'workplace procedures' as Daimos

'Why go through the trouble of taking a detour in a different car when you could just get in the Tranzor from the start?'

I used to laugh at that, but

there are similar scenes in the workplace where you think, 'Wouldn't it be better to just get in the Tranzor from the start?'

For example...

▶ The Reincarnating Application Form

When creating an application document,

Create the document on a PC
↓
Go to the trouble of printing it on paper
↓
Get the boss's hanko (seal) stamp
↓
Scan the stamped paper with a multifunction printer
↓
Convert to PDF
↓
Attach to an email and send

The final goal is

"Sending a stamped application document via email."

If you didn't need the hanko, you could just export the data created on the computer as a PDF and attach it to an email, and that would be the end of it.

But for the sake of the "hanko," for some reason, it is turned into "paper" once,

and then it goes through the trouble of being scanned to be converted back into a PDF (digitized).

This "Digital -> Analog (paper) -> Digital"reincarnation

Doesn't this make you feel like you're doing something meaningless, like taking a hamburger apart, kneading it back together, and grilling it again, or melting ice just to freeze it again, or digging a hole just to fill it back in and dig it up again?

Doesn't it make you feel like you're doing something pointless like that? ('A`)

▶ A Stamp Rally Called a Ringi (Approval) Document

The higher the amount or the level of importance, the longer the line of people becomes.

Ringi document completed
↓
Print
↓
Section Chief seal
↓
Department Manager seal
↓
Division Director seal
↓
General Manager seal
↓
Managing Director seal
↓
President seal (approval)

It's a mind-numbing stamp rally that stops at every station like a local train.

The higher the amount or importance, the more "characters" appear.

It's like the manga 'Kingdom,' where there are so many factions and characters that it becomes a panic, lol.

It's just like how there are a huge number of generals and soldiers in the state of Qin alone, and then enemy generals keep appearing one after another, until eventually, you can no longer match the names to the faces.

From the perspective of the front lines,

you want to say, "We don't need the middle steps, just have the president stamp it directly from the start"

but in order to maintain organizational control, this stamp rally of collecting everyone's peace of mind one by one is absolutely necessary ('A`)

▶ CC everyone on emails

There are plenty of other 'Daimos cases' overflowing in the company.

I call it 'CC everyone'

Even though you're just sending an email to Mr. A at a client company,

Contact Mr. A
↓
Add the section manager to CC because it's company policy
↓
Add the department manager to CC because it's company policy
↓
Add the project members to CC because it's company policy
↓
Add the relevant department staff to CC because it's company policy
↓
The CC members easily exceed 10 people

A single simple contact email turns into a large group like an all-star festival for the organization.

('A`)< Not everyone is reading this, right?

I think that every time, yet I keep adding people to the CC.

"This person, and this person, and this person... no unrelated people are included, right... (checking visually) yeah, it's fine, probably fine, send... (click)"

Employees just want to defeat (finish) the enemy (work) on the front lines every day.

Yet, mysterious and troublesome flows that seem like nothing but waste continue to remain in Reiwa-era offices ('A`)

Why do useless workplace processes never disappear?

Why do we keep repeating 'useless processes'?

Is it because everyone on the front lines is incompetent?

Is it because they lack a sense for efficiency?

That is absolutely wrong.

There are deeper, structural reasons within the organization for this.

In conclusion, processes that appear to be a waste always have a 'beneficiary' who requires them.

Even tedious procedures that seem to benefit no one at first glance become clear (perhaps) when you change your perspective and ask, 'Who does this exist for?'

1. 'Stamping' that requires printing on paper

For those on the front lines, it is nothing but a hassle. However, going through this process provides peace of mind to the 'General Affairs department and decision-makers'.

2. Multi-stage 'approval steps'

These cause delays in decision-making. However, by having stamps lined up like a stamp rally, 'managers' can confirm their scope of responsibility and feel at ease.

3. Excessive 'CC emails'

It is annoying for those receiving emails that have nothing to do with them. However, by involving everyone, the 'sender' gains an alibi that says, 'I have properly shared this information', and feels at ease.

4. Multiple layers of 'audit logs and check sheets'

Those who have to fill them out are sick of it every time. However, thanks to these, the 'audit department and compliance officers' feel at ease in case something goes wrong.

▶ Who is the beneficiary? The gap between 'front-line speed' and 'organizational peace of mind'

From the perspective of a front-line worker:

'Why is it necessary to get approval from everyone involved just to send one email?'

'Why do we have to hold a meeting for something that could be settled via chat?'

It is only natural that frustration builds up.

This is because the goal (mission) of the front line is to 'defeat the enemy of the task at hand as quickly as possible'.

However, from the perspective of the management side that maintains the massive system known as an organization, the story is different.

'What if an email sent by an employee on their own authority contains a serious compliance violation?'

'What if an executive appears later and pulls the rug out from under us by saying they never heard about it?'

To thoroughly eliminate such risks, they intentionally sacrifice speed and incorporate multiple layers of check functions.

Processes that the front line cries out are 'useless and inefficient' are, to the organization, 'costs for buying peace of mind'.

• Front-line goal = Finishing the task at hand as quickly as possible

• Organization (upper management/administrative departments) goal = Responsibility management, control, auditing, and risk avoidance

No matter how inefficient something may appear, the fact that the process survives means that there is always a 'beneficiary' within the organization who is receiving some kind of benefit (i.e., peace of mind or control) from it.

This can be called the 'true nature' of waste in the workplace.

Because there is a 'misalignment of goals' due to differences in positions, no matter how much technology evolves or efficient tools appear, unfortunately, 'useless processes' will likely never disappear from the workplace forever...

A summary that doesn't really intend to summarize

It's quite interesting to rewatch robot anime after becoming an adult, and the urge to poke fun at it is unstoppable.

If I start seriously critiquing Showa-era robot anime, my life will be over, so I want to keep it in moderation, but

that scene from the first episode of Daimos has an 'addictive quality that draws you in without any logic' that makes me replay it over and over.

I hope you all take a look and try to think of the waste in your own workplace.

That complex boarding scene in Daimos is by no means useless; in a sense, it is a collection of the aesthetics of waste, and in another sense, it can be called one of the completed forms of the ultimate waste of waste. I'm not really sure what I'm saying anymore.

In the end, what I want to say is,

It's good to have a heart that loves waste for what it is.

Ah, that's a lie.

The nonsense of digital to paper to digital,
the futility of CCing everyone and their mother,
the stamp rally that feels like an unnecessarily long journey,

When you swallow it all and let it slide...

a fine corporate droneis born.

See ya, bye-nara👋