Car Guys vs. Bean Counters - Bob Lutz [9]
As a result, the system created research-driven, focus-groupguided, customer-optimized transportation devices, hamstrung in countless ways, using a chassis too narrow here, wheels too small (but affordable!) there, and all sharing too much with the other brands. At the end of the “creative” process, the designers were now reduced to the equivalent of choosing the font for the list of ingredients on a tube of Crest.Yes, order, discipline, predictability, ease of manufacture, affordable investment, low cost, and a whole host of other desirable characteristics had been achieved now that the hegemony of Design prima donnas had been vanquished. But it came at a terrible price: gone were the style and flair that sparked such instant infatuation (dare we say lust?) in drivers, something that had been the hallmark of the design-driven era. Waste, arrogance, and hubris are never desirable characteristics, but the company rid itself of these at a terrible price. The ebullient, dynamic, seductive volcano of creation had been transformed into a quiet mountain with a gently smoking hole at the top, spewing forth mediocrity upon mediocrity. This shift to the predictable, so seductive to the bean counters, destroyed the company’s ability to compete and conquer.
But not all wounds were self-inflicted.
After the first fuel crisis in 1973, the federal government wisely decided that America needed to conserve petroleum, the supply of which was firmly in the hands of OPEC (Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries). Unwisely, the government, ever loath to withdraw a free lunch from the voting population, elected not to trust the market mechanism, which would have dictated a gradual, annual increase in federal fuel taxes. Instead, the burden was placed on the automotive industry, with draconian Corporate Average Fuel Economy (CAFE) targets that set a corporate sales-fleet average of 18 miles per gallon beginning with the 1978 model year, and established a schedule for attaining a fleet average of 27.5 miles per gallon by 1985.
These new fuel rules dealt a terrible blow to only the American companies; the Japanese, with their then-exclusively small-car portfolios, were already comfortably compliant with the new rules. In fact, they were left with enough leeway to start moving up in size and performance while GM, Ford, and Chrysler were forced to go down in size and performance over their entire product lines. A programmed, gradual rise in fuel taxation, along the European model, would have caused consumers to think of the future consequences of today’s purchase and would have provided a natural incentive to move down a notch, opting for six cylinders instead of eight, midsize sedans instead of large. But this would have required bipartisan cooperation and political courage, both historically absent in Congress.
And so the Big Three had to spend massively and quickly to downsize and lighten the entire fleet. Chrysler and GM abandoned all rear-wheel-drive vehicles, while Ford managed to save one, offsetting the negative effect of massive forced production of highly unprofitable small cars. GM, in a colossal multibillion-dollar effort, transformed every one of its passenger cars from “framed” construction to weight-saving unitized, from rear-wheel drive to front-wheel drive, and from V8s to V6s and four cylinders (which meant changing all of the transmissions and drive systems that went with them). It overwhelmed the engineering and design resources of even the world’s most powerful automobile company, not to mention the many suppliers of all-new manufacturing equipment and car components.
The size of the effort was staggering. Chrysler nearly went under and was saved only by Lee Iacocca and his successful effort to obtain federal loan guarantees. Ford struggled and struggled. GM plowed on and launched all-new vehicles in every size it offered. From the smallest Chevrolet to the largest (but now smaller) Cadillac, every part in every car was