C.H. Robinson Worldwide might not be well understood even in its hometown.
When Chief Executive Bob Biesterfeld meets people around the Twin Cities, he told me last week, and says where he works, he is often told: "Oh, I've seen your trucks."
No one has seen C.H. Robinson's trucks. They don't exist.
But their boxes do, big container boxes that fit on the ships, trains and trucks of other companies.
C.H. Robinson books freight for its thousands of customers, in its boxes or those of other firms. That includes boatloads from China, where efforts to contain an outbreak of a new form of virus has thoroughly disrupted everyday life and the economy.
It hadn't been a great couple of years for people who manufacture globally even before the coronavirus. Yet Biesterfeld called all this "ripples," not the kind of tsunami that would cause executives to rethink where they get their products and materials. The basic premise of trade — the whole system gets more efficient and produces more if products get made in the right place — makes as much sense as ever.
C.H. Robinson stands astride global trade like no other company in the Twin Cities. It grew out of its roots as a fruit-and-vegetable broker more than 100 years ago to become the leader in what's now called third-party logistics.
It blossomed just as the most recent wave of increased globalization swelled. All that term globalization means, by the way, is businesses choosing to work with other businesses on the other side of a national border.