Given that sobering long-term prognosis,
why do Taiwanese companies keep flocking to China? First, China offers sweeteners.
Until recently, China tantalized outsiders by taxing China-produced
chips at a significantly lower rate—up to 14 percent
less—than foreign-made chips. But that helping hand was
withdrawn after China joined the Geneva-based World Trade
Organization three years ago. Now China relies on more informal
understandings, which are harder for outsiders to criticize.
The most important of them is the unofficial requirement that
at least 30 percent of the total value of electronic goods
made in China be supplied by local companies.
Second—and more important—China is where the growth is. This year
its electronics industry will buy chips worth $59 billion,
more than any other country in the world, according to the
research firm iSuppli Corp., in El Segundo, Calif. Less than
5 percent of those chips are now made locally, leaving the
other 95 percent up for grabs [see graph, "Plenty of Room at the Top"].
No company understands those economics better than TSMC. Its founders
invented contract chip making in the late 1980s, when they
noticed that the cost of a fab—now generally a 10-digit
figure—was spiraling in relation to other industry costs.
They realized chip makers that could no longer afford to own
their manufacturing capacity would have little choice but
to rent it.
In an interesting parallel to the role of Taiwanese engineers in
China in this decade, it was technologists who returned from
the United States two decades earlier—TSMC founder Morris
Chang among them—who gave Taiwanese foundries their start.
These foundries bred new chip makers, the so-called fabless companies.
Later they began getting business even from the biggest players,
as such companies as Intel Corp., in Santa Clara, Calif.,
and Motorola Inc., in Schaumburg, Ill., came to realize that
sometimes it made more sense to rent a bit of spare capacity
than to build a fab that wouldn't be fully exploited.
Throughout the 1990s, as tech-related exuberance built to a crescendo,
TSMC thrived. It now has 11 foundries—8 in Taiwan, 1
in Singapore, 1 in Washington state, and 1 in China. The Chinese
plant is run by a subsidiary, TSMC Shanghai, which won approval
from Taiwan's government in February 2003. Y.C. Chao, the
president of TSMC Shanghai, in the city's Songjiang suburb,
says he is now ready to take orders.
In the competition between the two companies, convolutions abound.
Start with SMIC's charismatic chairman, Richard Chang. China-born
but Taiwan-bred, he graduated with a degree in mechanical
engineering from National Taiwan University, in Taipei, in
1970 before earning a master's degree from the University
at Buffalo, the State University of New York, in 1973 and
a Ph.D. in electrical engineering from Southern Methodist
University, in Dallas, in 1986. After working for 20 years
in Dallas at Texas Instruments Inc., he returned to Taiwan
to found the Worldwide Semiconductor Manufacturing Co., quickly
selling it to none other than TSMC. Then he moved back to
China, in 2000, to found SMIC.
By 2003, SMIC had three plants running in Shanghai. And last year,
the company bought a plant in Tianjin from Motorola. Earlier
this year, the company began operating one more in Beijing,
and two more Beijing plants are being readied for production.
At his spacious steel-and-glass headquarters in Pudong, 15
kilometers east of the old, historic part of Shanghai, Chang
can gaze out at an employee village that makes up for the
deficiencies in local infrastructure by providing apartments,
supermarkets, sports fields, and that school for 1200 students,
who can study in English, Mandarin, or both.
Lately, the investment seems to be paying off. Slowly but surely,
SMIC is creeping closer and closer to TSMC's cutting-edge
capabilities. SMIC's best plants, in Beijing, can now make
chips with 90-nanometer wires on 300-millimeter wafers—which
is the state of the art. Those are the parameters typical
of fab facilities used to make gigabit memories and chips
for cellphones. Chang points out that SMIC makes chips only
for commercial applications, not for military ones.
In other aspects, though, SMIC still lags. Its Pudong plants produce
chips with wires only as narrow as 130 nm on 200-mm wafers,
good enough for controllers for DVD players, sensor chips
for low-end digital cameras, or decoders for high-definition
television sets. One of the three Pudong plants supports the
other two by connecting circuit elements with copper, the
metal of choice; it also offers the increasingly obsolete
standby, aluminum.
SMIC's engineers have not yet mastered the technique of putting a
thin veneer of silicon over a layer of silicon dioxide, a
technique that lets circuits run faster than those on ordinary
silicon wafers. Nor does it yet embed germanium atoms in the
upper layers of silicon wafers to strain their crystalline
structure, tremendously speeding up the passage of signals.
Still, matters have improved significantly over what they
were a decade ago, when China's semiconductor makers were
laying down wires 10 times wider than those used in the most
advanced processes.
Meanwhile, TSMC isn't resting on its laurels. Chao plans to focus his
production on local Chinese markets, building chips for Chinese
customers and also for international customers who want to
sell to Chinese electronics and appliance companies. He says
that at the beginning of this year, the plant was cranking
out 5000 wafers per month—a third of its planned capacity
and only a small fraction of the 120 000 wafers that SMIC's
foundries can produce.
But production numbers don't tell the whole story about the competition between
SMIC and TSMC. In that battle, TSMC is prohibited from deploying
its most potent weapon—superior technology—to full
effect. As a Taiwanese entity, Chao's company is not allowed
to produce circuits with wires smaller than 0.25-micrometers.
But Chao expects that the Taiwanese government will soon approve
more advanced technologies, capable of making wires with widths
down to 0.15 um.
Once that happens, he says, the company will install the equipment
and ramp up production rather quickly.
Chao tries to put the best face on the restrictions: the resulting
chips are good enough for cars, toasters, power controllers,
and analog circuits, though not for most portable applications—including
cellphones and laptops—which require, above all, the
low power and compactness that the most advanced technologies
offer.
"We spend according to the market needs and according to the level of
approvals from Taiwan," he says. There's plenty of demand
in China for chips built with older technologies, he adds,
and as demand for more advanced technologies grows, TSMC will
be able to keep up with it.
Other experts disagree with Chao's outlook, noting that local customers
are already paying for better chips than he can provide. SMIC
data supports this view. In the third quarter of 2004, the
company produced more than two-thirds of its chips at 0.18 um
or less. While TSMC and other firms tagged with Taiwan's flag
may lobby their government for permission to use more advanced
technology, the express political point of the export restrictions
is to limit trade—and the economic point is to limit
transfer of technology.