Car Guys vs. Bean Counters - Bob Lutz [105]
Cooperation, education, careful reduction of unneeded capacity, and gradual elimination of uncompetitive work practices while waiting for 2010 to roll around was the right approach. Without the 2008 meltdown, it would have seen us through. Once again, the radical cleanup, the dramatic UAW reductions, the numerous plant closings, and the elimination of any residual wage gap to the Japanese transplants operating in America’s nonunion South, was ultimately enabled by Chapter 11 and the strictures laid down by the Automotive Task Force, which did not spare the UAW from further concessions.
It is predominantly in the area of management style that I would have acted in a manner commensurate with my nature. Like Ed Whitacre, I have a strong tendency toward simplicity. Open discussion among a seasoned, aggressive group of doers (as we had at Chrysler) is more productive in arriving at solutions than endless scenario-studies and useless projections of the future (with a near-zero batting average) created by legions of MBAs. I view this business as fundamentally simple: get the product right, advertise it well, and everything else will fall into place. I have always encouraged a substantial degree of irreverence in meetings, using humor to allay fear and encourage more junior people to speak up. I have always been a great slayer of sacred cows and believe that to take one’s history and internal institutions too seriously is to impede speed and progress. It goes without saying that we had an excessive number of senior executives, many of whom looked good, spoke well, and didn’t drive change. Many were “boss watchers” without any convictions of their own.
I believe in strong direction, in unmistakably conveying what I believe should be done. I will listen, but if convinced of the rightness of my views, I will ultimately, with ever less gentleness in the suggestions, get it done. I don’t believe large organizations will “move” adequately without a degree of forcefulness from the leader.
Finally, I would have changed GM’s historic reticence when it comes to telling the truth about the company to the public. I don’t believe that “hoping it will blow over” or “it’s only a one-day story, don’t dignify it with a response” is a good long-term strategy. As CEO, I would have had myself scheduled on every major network and cable show imaginable and would have worked tirelessly to tell our story and stamp out misconceptions. Many CEOs see this as a waste of the top person’s time. I don’t.The job of the CEO is, in large part, making sure the company is seen in a favorable light. False beliefs and unjust accusations need to be tackled, not left to fester in the files of the media, to be pulled out when another negative story is due. I do not see the media, or media exposure, as a negative. A frank, open, and candid approach, with lots of easy access to the CEO, is a winning strategy.
It comes naturally to me; I should probably have been a teacher or preacher. Even the occasional gaffe is excused if the media senses an underlying respect for their profession and a desire to communicate honestly. Lee Iacocca is the role model in this area, and it worked well.
So there you have it: my hypothetical tenure as CEO. Some hits, some misses—who knows what difference a more open, less formal, less reverential leadership style might have made. In all probability, given the intractable nature of GM’s legacy cost problems, the damage done in generations past by a combination of failed government policies (fleet average fuel economy standards, a Japan-biased exchange rate), an overly analytical, non-product-, non-customer-focused series of CEOs, a UAW that couldn’t, politically speaking, adjust downward, a retiree-to-active ratio approaching ten to one, all culminating in the “perfect storm” of the spring of 2008, Chapter 11 would have