Where and what is made?

The Flat World, Our Choices, and the Toys That Shape Tomorrow

An Adidas cap is trendy and comfortable. I fell in love with a wallet the exact moment I saw it. A Prospirit digital watch has every function I could possibly need. I bought them all—along with a few other things—while shopping in Australia. Awesome.

Each of these purchases, and many more I may or may not mention in this blog, shared one striking thing in common: none of them were made in Australia. I know the underlying answer is offshoring, cost-cutting, and the complex mixture of pleasant and unpleasant realities brought on by globalization.

My Adidas cap was made in Bangladesh, another was made in China, and the purse was crafted in India. I paid an awesomely huge price in Ngultrum (which is at par with Indian Rupees) for each of them. Having read Thomas L. Friedman’s book, I was enlightened: the world is flat now. These products are designed in the West, assembled in lower-cost countries, and brought back to fetch higher price tags.

The Geography of Quality and Desire

This raises a question: why aren’t these same global brands supplied to markets like Bhutan in the same way? If the cap was made in Bangladesh, why are products sent to markets differently?

The obvious answer is purchasing power, which third-world consumers are still building. Over time, consumers in developing nations might lose their connection to traditional brand prestige. An Adidas cap made in the developed world might not hold the same magical appeal for us anymore. By the time third-world consumers finally acquire the full ability to purchase, they may have outgrown the taste for it.

I know India produces quality leather goods—they are masterfully made in Kolkata, Bengaluru, and many other cities. I have used them, alongside other Indian products. Yet, for the longest time, my heart chased "foreign" goods. Foreign meant products from Australia, Europe, and America—not India, China, or Bangladesh. I took pride in owning them. I still do. But maybe not for much longer.

Where is the Western world heading with outsourcing, offshoring, and Foreign Direct Investment? Don’t you think Western nations are slowly losing the brand image they worked so hard to build for decades? Maybe, or maybe not. I think it ultimately depends on what we truly value: the brand name, or the simple purpose the commodity is meant to serve.

Or perhaps the answer lies in a timeless teaching of Buddhism: always in a hurry to get nowhere.

The Changing Tides of Global Trade

It is a fascinating paradox for a consumer from the third world. One day, I might think of asking my Bangladeshi friend to send me a cap meant for an Australian market—and gently remind him that he cannot charge the price he charges his Western customers. After all, we are closer neighbors. Or, I might not ask at all and simply settle for what is proudly marked Made in China.

Susan, who lives in Fremantle (a suburban town in Perth), says she can't trust anything Chinese. I never really did either. God help us both. Yet, China is striving relentlessly to become the factory of the world. The Chinese are ambitious and hardworking people—qualities that might practically become the dictionary definition of "Chinese" in the near future.

Bhutan has yet to establish free trade with China, but Chinese products have filled our markets for a long time. There is even a dedicated shop right in front of the Post Office in Thimphu for Chinese imported goods. When a glass is overfilled, it spills. In the past, we only got the spills, and it was messy. Now, Chinese goods are taking deliberate shape.

Once in a while—or maybe all the time—I buy Chinese toys for my daughters. I am reminded of the news coverage in Europe back in 2007 when certain Chinese products failed safety standards, yet Chinese toys remained everywhere.

It was clear then that China had adopted a brilliant long-term marketing strategy. They are teaching the next generation to grow up comfortable and familiar with Chinese products from the earliest stages of life.

Familiarity and the Future

Have you ever wondered why we can't live without Ema Datshi? The answer is simple: we grew up eating it every single day. We miss it after just a few weeks away from home, craving the burning sensation of hot chillies on our lips and mouth, even in grueling 40°C Australian heat.

China's marketing strategy is just as simple.

My daughter is growing up eating Ema Datshi, but she is also playing with toys from China. She will develop trust in those products while sleeping with Chinese Barbie dolls and teddy bears in her bedroom. Do I have to worry about that? I honestly don't know.

But one day, my daughter might never look for an Adidas cap made in the USA, Australia, or the UK. And I have a feeling that day might actually come true.