3D Printer Manufacturers, Please Race to the Bottom!

When discussing Chinese competition with Western firms, a frequently echoed refrain is, “We’re not going to race to the bottom” or “We can’t win a race to the bottom.” In one company I worked with, this phrase was repeated like a Greek chorus. My goal wasn’t to simply push for producing low-cost material extrusion systems; instead, I sought to challenge our current trajectory and open the door to reimagining possibilities. For me, it was about preventing strategic complacency—avoiding a state where feelings and behaviors solidify into unexamined strategy.

What I wanted was a deliberate moment of pause—a space for reevaluation, reflection, and constructive questioning of ingrained assumptions. Instead, the response was a predictable reiteration of “No Race to the Bottom,” without truly exploring what might be achievable.

This creates a strategic blind spot that, in many cases, seals a company’s fate—a strategic doom loop. Time and again, the well-documented trope of the Innovator’s Dilemma unfolds: firms offering “good enough” solutions capture volume, improve their economics, and eventually displace earlier innovators. Recently, when someone asked me about the prospects of a particular company, I bluntly replied, “They’re (expletive deleted),” and added, “They’re roadkill.”

How does a company go from being best in class to becoming roadkill? More importantly, how can we encourage leaders to courageously and responsibly evaluate their entire business strategy? My frustration isn’t rooted in failing to convince firms to make low-cost systems—it stems from the inability to prompt them to think critically about the potential of doing so.

The reflexive dismissal of the “race to the bottom” reminds me of smokers who, when asked about quitting, habitually respond that they can stop anytime but won’t do so now. In both cases, the end result is slow suicide.

Race to the Bottom

Let’s take a moment to examine the phrase “race to the bottom” in its original and powerful context. It historically described a destructive dynamic among U.S. states during the Robber Baron era, where companies sought the lowest taxes or least restrictive regulations. Meatpackers and other industries would relocate to jurisdictions with the weakest rules or tax burdens, pitting states against one another in a downward spiral. The consequence wasn’t just local competition but a net loss for the U.S. as a whole. States vying for businesses through incentives rarely recouped their investments. Companies would settle in, say, Oklahoma only to abandon the community for the next state offering more lucrative terms, leaving despair, joblessness, and economic disruption in their wake.

This phenomenon resonates in modern anti-globalist and left-leaning critiques, such as Naomi Klein’s No Logo. Unfortunately, the original use of “race to the bottom” to describe inter-state competition for incentives has waned. This is regrettable, as the term aptly describes the hollowing out of state economies and the practice of rewarding the least deserving players.

A striking example where this concept remains relevant is the shipping and fishing industries. The proliferation of “flags of convenience”—where shipowners register vessels in countries with lax regulations and minimal taxes—epitomizes a race to the bottom. These havens offer minimal safety and environmental oversight, undermining global efforts to enforce robust standards while allowing unscrupulous practices to flourish.

Easily Avoided Externalities

The phrase “race to the bottom” is also used to describe the negative externalities resulting from unchecked corporate competition. In the Netherlands, for instance, supermarkets engaged in fierce price wars over chicken, selling it at a loss to attract customers. This pricing pressure cascaded down to suppliers, who resorted to cost-cutting measures like injecting water and additives into the meat, while compromising worker safety and animal welfare. The result was a cycle of deteriorating standards: more injuries for workers, harsher conditions for animals, and ultimately a poorer-quality product.

What makes this example particularly troubling is the arbitrariness of the cruelty involved. Supermarkets could have chosen other products, like shampoo or higher-margin goods, that don’t involve significant human or animal suffering. Alternatively, they might have focused on creative advertising or customer incentives that wouldn’t undermine the quality of their own offerings. Instead, they pursued a path that inflicted harm on workers and animals while eroding the value of their product.

Jessie Singer’s sobering book, There Are No Accidents, examines similar patterns, such as paper mills under new management eroding worker safety standards to meet aggressive performance targets.

We should indeed differentiate between tax/incentive/regulatory erosion and externalities arising from competition, as their causes and effects are distinct. Each phenomenon is significant enough in the modern world to warrant its own term, enabling a clearer understanding and more targeted responses. Maybe we use the terms “Regulatory Erosion” and “Easily Avoided Externalities,” but, crucially, neither of these concepts aligns with the reflexive “race to the bottom” argument executives often deploy when confronted with low-cost competition.

Race

I have long advocated for a reevaluation of strategies to address the threats posed by low-cost competition. In my 2021 article “Bullets Before Cannibals,” I highlighted the dangers of falling prey to the Innovator’s Dilemma and the critical need to continually test and reassess assumptions. The following year, in 2022, I warned companies about the looming risk of extinction by collectively chasing the $5,000 printer market while ignoring the rise of low-cost Chinese firms. I used the example of Wang Laboratories to emphasize how failing to adapt to disruptive competition can lead to irrelevance. Both articles centered on a specific and urgent concern: the rapid ascent of low-cost Chinese 3D printers and the existential threat they pose to the rest of the market.

Now, Bambu and Creality have decisively validated my earlier warnings. These companies are not only cutting into Stratasys’ earnings but also decimating competition across the material extrusion sector. Businesses are buying Bambu systems by the hundreds, using them for manufacturing or even for 3D printing in creative industries like film production. What’s fascinating is that this outcome was entirely predictable—it didn’t require an oracle’s foresight. Many observers already believed this was inevitable based on the available information.

Yet, material extrusion firms succumbed to a collective delusion, failing to thoroughly evaluate their circumstances or explore the possibilities before them. Instead, they entered the strategic doom loop: fully aware that they couldn’t compete with low-cost systems, they funneled efforts into superficial attempts at developing higher-value offerings. Worse, they did so within the confines of the existing technological paradigm, with a narrow focus on high-end market segments already crowded with strong competitors.

None of these firms truly reimagined their business models or their printers as universally accessible devices people could use continuously. That’s precisely what Bambu achieved, reshaping the landscape with a vision and approach the incumbents either couldn’t see or refused to pursue.

From the 2021 article:

“I’ve repeatedly advised desktop 3D printing companies on strategy. A basic choice is whether to go upmarket, which everyone is and has been doing, or to offer low cost 3D printers to compete with Anet and Creality.

Each firm stated that they did not want a race to the bottom. They instinctively and reflexively were not going to produce low-cost systems. Upon detailed questioning, they were 100% certain that they could not and did not want to compete. But—and here is the kicker—when asked if they’d looked at the economics of trying to make a $500 3D printer, they had not done their research.

Additionally, none had thought through robotic assembly or radically new ways of designing electronics to make printers differently. For example, they could use cell phones and an app as the main electronics in the printer, allowing everyone use disused phones to run the machine. Or they could radically redesign printers for automated assembly. But, no company had actually conducted decent research into this area. So, they were shooting from the hip, but presenting the opinion that low-cost wouldn’t work as the gospel truth. The irony here is that a correct understanding of the Innovator’s Dilemma should have in fact made them more wary of this kind of thinking. But, a false understanding of and complete acceptance of the outlined understanding seemingly made them more vulnerable.”

Rell

In the painfully awkward 1988 sci-fi movie Krull (a mashup of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Greek mythology), the cyclops Rell trades one eye to gain the ability to see the future—but he can only see the moment of his own death. This mirrors the predicament many companies face today. They see what’s coming, but like smokers who know the consequences yet refuse to act, they remain paralyzed, constrained by narrow, poorly explored options.

In powder bed fusion, both metals and polymers, the same pattern is emerging. By reflexively repeating, “We won’t race to the bottom,” companies are failing themselves and their investors. This mindset prevents them from reassessing their business strategies, reevaluating what their clients truly need, and exploring alternative paths. What are clients really buying? Is it trust? Reliability? A seamless experience? A comprehensive solution?

Leaders must reimagine their offerings to address these underlying needs. Consider offering services rather than hardware. Perhaps guarantee clients replacement systems within two hours of a failure. Sell uptime instead of equipment. Or develop a low-cost system to complement your premium line, enabling you to tap into broader markets while maintaining high-value segments.

Maybe it’s time to leverage new technologies, software, machine vision, and sensors to fundamentally transform your offering. Perhaps you could reimagine your entire business. Bambu didn’t simply create a slightly better i3 clone or a cheaper Flashforge. Instead, they redefined what it takes for people to use material extrusion systems as effortlessly as an appliance. That vision, coupled with exceptional engineering, was enough to dominate the market and leave competitors reeling.

The truth is, there was no reason for Bambu to sweep the floor with everyone else. But stuck in a “business as usual” mindset, the industry sleepwalked off a cliff, overwhelmed by a predictable disruption. If we continue on this path, the same fate awaits us again. So yes—let’s race to the bottom, but with intention. Let’s explore how new optics and motion stages could turn a low-cost powder bed fusion system into something that sells 10,000 units. Let’s think about how you could build a sustainable business around a $100,000 powder bed fusion system.

Let’s stop clinging to the status quo and instead embrace the hunger and drive it takes to transform markets. Let’s move mountains to reimagine our future—before someone else seizes it and leaves us in their dust.

Images Peter Mooney. Markles55, US Army,