Car Guys vs. Bean Counters - Bob Lutz [35]
Even post-takeover by Daimler, Chrysler brought forth one more hit: the boldly styled Chrysler 300.The car was a home run, with pundits concluding that poor GM really was the only company that just didn’t get it at all. Into this climate of false pity (liberally spiced with ridicule), GM proudly launched the Pontiac Aztek, a minivan-based vehicle designed for a niche somewhere in the U.S. market. Since it was often displayed with a large tent deployed from the back end, one can only assume it was created for people who go camping regularly or who otherwise have no permanent dwelling. It was atrociously ugly, with featureless, flat body panels offset in front by what appeared to be one lower and one upper grille opening. I remember staring at it in disbelief the first time I saw it: I could not imagine that a group of professional automobile designers and executives had green-lighted this Quasimodo of crossovers.
The Aztek became the butt of jokes, just like Ford’s ill-fated Edsel four decades earlier. It was an all-too-easily-grasped shorthand icon of GM’s ineptness, a metaphor for a disoriented company. But, as I was to learn, even worse was waiting in the wings, baking to golden-brown perfection in GM’s design and engineering functions. Aztek would be a reputational low point for GM, and the true magnitude of the situation was not lost on Jack Smith or Rick Wagoner.
5
Ground Zero
MEANWHILE, HAVING BEEN “ENCOURAGED” TO RETIRE FROM THE NEWLY created DaimlerChrysler at the very young age of sixty-six, I, as previously mentioned, accepted a position as CEO of Exide Corporation, the world’s largest producer of lead-acid batteries, and a company with many automotive customers. Soon the events described in chapter 1 unfolded . . . the overtures from John Devine, the meetings with Rick Wagoner, and finally the job offer. And thus was sealed my return to GM after an absence of close to thirty years.An acceptable compensation proposal was soon agreed upon, and I was to report to work on September 1, 2001.
My first company event was before my start date, at the August board meeting, where members review prototypes of the forthcoming product pipeline, in both metal (for soon-to-launch vehicles) and foam (a very realistic, full-size plastic model virtually indistinguishable from a real vehicle).The products I saw, whether small, midsize, sport-utility, or large-car, were obviously doomed to failure. But at this initial introduction, I kept my candor in check, preferring to use descriptors like “unusual” and “certainly different.” I could see from this sampling of the future portfolio that the situation was, indeed, in urgent need of correction.
My next encounter with the GM of 2001 was in Monterey, California, at the famed annual Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, which each year features a few hundred of the world’s finest historic and classic vehicles. It was August 18, 2001, and GM had chosen the venue to introduce the soon-to-be-launched Cadillac CTS to a group of leading international automotive journalists. My return to GM already announced, I was there to help pitch it. This was not without difficulty. The car was modern and unusual in its design, with flat planes converging in sharp, origami-like creases. It was well-proportioned, well-engineered, and dynamically on par with premium German sedans of the same class. The design was certainly polarizing and found great favor with some buyers. What the car lacked was any charm or warmth in the form of tasteful chrome accents to offset the unfamiliarity of the “stealth-fighter” sheet metal. The interior, the element that can make or break the sale if the potential customer is attracted to