Car Guys vs. Bean Counters - Bob Lutz [45]
3. The Saturn Ion Sedan was tested in January 2000, and was less appealing than the car it was supposed to replace. Some modifications were made as a result of this clinic, but clearly not enough to create a strong design. Further changes to the design were necessary; however, this was resisted by the program team and marketing, who were more concerned with program timing than creating a winning design.
4. The 2003 Pontiac Grand Prix was taken to a clinic in November 1999, and, like the Saturn Ion, was much less appealing than the prior-generation Grand Prix. The debate over this design was intense, with the frustrated VLE saying that he should “take a baseball bat to the research and forecasting group” in front of the NASB, and no one disagreed. Perhaps he should have taken his bat to the clay model as the car never sold well, and was primarily sold as a fleet car by year two of its life.
5. The Chevrolet Malibu was tested at a clinic in February 2000. This was the last-generation Malibu before the current model.What we saw in the clinic results was just mediocrity. It wasn’t terrible, but clearly, it wasn’t great. I think everyone internally had a more positive memory of this one because it was better than much of our other vehicle work at the time. Compared with our current standard, however, this program would never have made it....
In the case of the Chevrolet Malibu, I asked the vehicle line executive if, perhaps, we should consider a redesign, since the car appeared to me (prior to viewing the research results) to be seriously wanting in both interior and exterior appeal. “Are you kidding?” he replied, “That car has done better in research than any other car in the last few years!” I found it hard to believe, but the clinic results showed it to be true. It was the best of those that failed, the valedictorian of the reform school graduating class.
And then there was “Bucky Beaver,” a name bandied about by some of my new colleagues who had seen the all-new, aesthetically challenged Pontiac Grand Prix. The unfortunate moniker stemmed from the grille, which, with its sharply pointed twin ports, looked for all the world like the incisors of some demented, giant rodent. It left me fairly stunned; how could something that bad, the brunt of internal disparagement, be allowed to progress through failed research to ultimate design approval for production? I suggested the grille be changed, the opening widened, the sharp-toothed graphic removed, but due to the dictates of timing again, only minor changes in graphics were possible. “Bucky Beaver,” bereft of his two front teeth, now looked more like a very large car with a very small grille. It was better, certainly, but the car, despite some undeniable attributes—for some reason, it was widely touted as the only car that could swallow a nine-foot kayak—never did well in the market.The number of kayak owners had been overestimated.
At this point, sensing that I was decidedly not dealing with the creative, vibrant GM I had known in the 1960s, I decided to take pen to paper and issue a few polite proclamations. Following is an excerpt from a note I penned to Rick Wagoner under the assumption that he had small inkling of the extent of the problem:
Dear Rick:
Attached is a memo that I’ve sent to my direct reports and some of my “process leader” colleagues.
Overall, I admire what the company has done over the last few years to create order and relative simplicity out of what used to be an unmanageable, chaotic “federation.” It’s working well, ensures discipline, and it works predictably.
However, the product creation system, as a whole, is too “democratic,” gets too many inputs from too many cooks, and has to abide by too many questionable (but well-intended) “criteria” or maxims.
I already mentioned the weak position of Design, so I won’t repeat myself here. My greatest concern is the nearrobotic nature of the Product Planning (Portfolio Planning) process, an area I have discussed with Larry Burns.