What Bicycles Don’t Say
— What We Saw Beyond the Tariffs
We see them every day, touch them, and ride them.
And yet—how deeply do we truly understand how bicycles are made, what they carry within them, and what has been stripped away?
Today, tariffs are once again a hot topic around the world.
At first glance, this may seem unrelated to bicycles. But beyond this policy lies something we’ve overlooked for a long time: the deeper meaning of making things.

What should we try to read from these silent bicycles?
Whenever society trembles, the shape, price, and place of production of things begin to reflect the voices of the times.
This isn’t just a global issue or a domestic one—it’s a story about the bicycle industry itself.
The Loss of Hope in America
In 2025, the United States once again brought “tariff strengthening” to the forefront of its policy agenda.
President Donald Trump’s rhetoric is often sharp, even abrasive or crude. Yet I felt that behind this tariff policy lies more than just a trade dispute—it carries a message that America must change, too.
A particular comment from a conservative thinker, who once served as a policy advisor in the previous administration, left a strong impression on me.
“Even if the economy appears to be growing, if people quietly lose hope in their everyday lives, then it cannot be called a success.”
That statement perfectly captures what happened to American society as its manufacturing base hollowed out and the connections between people and communities unraveled.
And I believe it’s not just America – this reality quietly overlaps with what’s been happening in Japan, and in the bicycle industry as well.

Why Are Tariffs Such a Problem?
The recent policy imposes steep tariffs on goods from many countries, including China. Bicycle parts are no exception.
This move shakes the very foundation of the long-standing system of manufacturing overseas and distributing through the U.S. to the world.

For many, the biggest concern is rising prices.
But beneath that lies the long-standing consequence of a different choice: the decision not to make things ourselves.
Things We Once Could Make—but No Longer Do
For years, the bicycle industry has depended heavily on manufacturing bases in China and Taiwan.
Frames, stems, racks, handlebars—these were all once made routinely in Japan.
Over time, however, “outsourcing” became the norm, and the questions of “where” and “why” we make things were pushed aside.

Of course, global collaboration and division of labor have real value. Efficiency matters, too.
But when we lose sight of who makes something, and why it’s made, the bicycle becomes nothing more than a product.
And when external disruptions like tariffs strike, we may find that we have nowhere to return to.
Isn’t Japan Also Quietly Sinking?

The despair we observed in America is not unique to that country.
Here in Japan, we too have seen the steady erosion of pride, industry, and regional vitality under the wave of globalization.
- The disappearance of small factories in rural towns
- Continued population flow into large urban centers
- The normalization of non-regular employment and persistent job insecurity
- The rise of solitary deaths and social withdrawal
- The emergence of agriculture as a national issue
These may not be easily measured in statistics, but they unmistakably gnaw at the roots of our society.
The bicycle industry is no exception. And across many countries, under the banners of “efficiency” and “free economy,” we may have lost something irreplaceable.

When Products Are Made Without Purpose

The bicycle industry is not immune to these structural problems.
In fact, it may be one of the rare industries so thoroughly dependent on overseas production—while maintaining high profit margins.
Frames, handlebars, racks—once made in America, Europe, and Japan—have gradually become “things made elsewhere.”
Outsourcing itself isn’t inherently wrong.
But when we forget to ask “why here” and “why this person,” bicycles become just objects—made cheaply, quickly, easily.
And with that, they become thinner, lighter, and weaker.
Perhaps this is the result of leaving behind the intention we once embedded in bicycles as tools.
A Voice from the Field
The morning after the new tariffs were announced, we received an email at SimWorks USA.
It was from one of our longtime dealer partners in the Oceania region.
Their message voiced a clear concern:
“We understand that SimWorks products are shipped from Japan. But if additional tariffs are imposed when entering the U.S., the cost gets passed on to us.
Your products are already in the premium price range (though we recognize this is partly due to our regional conditions). If they become even more expensive, they may become out of reach for many customers.”
This isn’t just an issue for Oceania.
Dealers and users all over the world are starting to face similar uncertainties.

We, too, are reflecting.
What can we do to continue delivering SimWorks products to people around the world?
Faced with the reality of tariffs, it’s clear that we need to find flexible, sustainable answers—not only to the question of how we make, but also how we deliver.
Thinking Ahead as SimWorks
At SimWorks, we’ve always placed great importance on the ideas and philosophy behind making.

Rather than comparing specs or prices alone, we’ve tried to ask:
Where is it made? By whom? Why? And with what kind of feeling?
By focusing on these details, we’ve aimed to propose bicycles not merely as a means of transportation—but as tools for living.
That’s why we believe the ongoing global conversation is something we, in Japan too, must listen to and engage with.
- Where should bicycles be made?
- What does their price support—and what does it sacrifice?
- Where does the industry place its pride?
These are the questions SimWorks will continue to face head-on, as we reflect on the essence that lies between making and using.

Listening to What Bicycles Don’t Say
Bicycles don’t speak.
But they carry the philosophy of the maker, the air of the place they were born, and layers of culture passed down over time.
Where was your bicycle made?
Who made it, and why?
We want to keep listening to these unspoken stories—and tell them.
To speak what the bicycle cannot.
SimWorks will continue listening to that quiet voice.












