Car Guys vs. Bean Counters - Bob Lutz [30]
But GM’s worst failing was not in the purchase of Saab, but in the failure to do what is normally done in the acquisition of a smaller competitor: consolidate. Saab continued to operate largely autonomously, with all functions, including design, engineering, and purchasing, soldiering on as though they were still independent. The last Saab 9-3 was supposed to share most major systems with the well-engineered (but stylistically challenged) Opel Vectra. But, in a spirit of “we know better,” almost everything was changed, including the entire wiring and electrical system, as well as the engineering-intensive heating and air-conditioning unit. Since Saab sourced these and others to new suppliers, the economies of scale were lost, and the car became needlessly expensive. The fact that the specific Saab electrical system turned out to be heavily failure-prone didn’t help. This type of “brand character” can only be called wasteful stupidity. As I frequently (and irritatingly, I’m sure) said, “As if a Saab owner is going to crawl under the instrument panel and declare, ‘What a rip–off! These are the same wires as in my neighbor’s OpelVectra!’” Systems like electrical, air-conditioning, and window lifts are customer transparent: if they function well and are dead reliable, they can and should be shared across similar-size cars, as they are between Toyota and Lexus. (The state of affairs I found at Saab when I joined GM in 2001 will be described in a later chapter.)
Other so-called “alliances” or minority ownership stakes in mostly Japanese auto companies were part of a broad “alliance strategy,” the results of which were mixed at best. Isuzu was a decent source of Chevrolet medium trucks and provided the diesel know-how for what was to become the renowned GM “Duramax” engine. Suzuki, where GM ownership peaked at 21 percent, was at least highly profitable, but the synergies dreamed of for shared small-car engines and platforms never came about; GM and Suzuki both clung stubbornly to their own “solutions.” The European venture with Fiat, in which GM ownership was to rise to 20 percent, provided some synergies in purchasing and one semishared platform between the Fiat Uno and the Opel Astra. Best of all, GM gained access to Fiat’s excellent passenger car diesels (some European markets are over 60 percent diesel), an area GM had neglected due to investment and engineering “thrifting.” But in the early years of the new century, GM was cash-poor and wanted out of the then-moribund Fiat.The latter played its cards well: it cost GM $2 billion for the divorce.
The strangest alliance was with Fuji Heavy Industries, or Subaru. Born of the correct belief that Subaru was the master of low-cost, all-wheel-drive passenger cars, the planners forgot or ignored the fact that Subaru’s platforms and its flat-four longitudinal engines and transmissions were completely incompatible with anything anywhere in the GM lineup. Nor was Subaru at all interested in adopting GM’s chassis and engine technology, although they did try a Subaru version of Opel’s small minivan, the Zafira. (It was overpriced, did not offer Subaru’s trademark all-wheel drive, and was, in all ways, a sharp departure from what Subaru’s domestic customers expected of the brand.)
Meanwhile, back in the USA, the pressure was on to find some way to share a platform with Fuji, thereby demonstrating to the world the frequently doubted value of the “alliance strategy.” A modern crossover was to be developed, shared between Pontiac and Subaru. After months of fruitless haggling over features, prices, and sales volumes, it became abundantly clear that the aspirations of Pontiac, a low-priced brand, were incompatible with the upmarket ambition of Subaru.The