Two-and-a-half years after its glitzy launch, a car that was meant to revolutionize personal transport in India -- and perhaps all of Asia -- remains stuck in first gear. August was the second-worst sales month ever for the Tata Nano, the world's cheapest mass-produced car and a flagship product of India's giant steel-to-software Tata Group. Tata Motors, whose plant in the western state of Gujarat has the capacity to turn out 250,000 cars a year, shipped only about 1,200 Nanos to dealers in August, compared with slightly more than 8,000 in the same month last year. Clumsy marketing, a rash of mysterious electrical fires, and an unusual design (e.g., a welded -shut trunk, only one side-view mirror) have all dented the car's appeal. The Nano was projected to be selling 20,000 to 25,000 units a month by now, and some of the car's more enthusiastic boosters had even predicted a market in Europe and the United States. Instead, only about 129,000 Nanos ply Indian roads.
Although it's too early to rule out a comeback for the Nano -- Tata Motors has proved naysayers wrong before -- the car's failure thus far is illuminating. For Tata, it raises a question mark over what was meant to be one of the Mumbai-headquartered conglomerate's great strengths -- frugal innovation, or products designed specifically for the developing world's vast number of poor and middle-class people. But more broadly, it shows that developing-country multinationals -- often praised for their hunger and agility -- aren't necessarily world beaters, even on their home turf. For every Embraer or Infosys, there's also a Cemex or Satyam. Indeed, local subsidiaries of Japan's Suzuki and South Korea's Hyundai dominate India's fast-growing passenger-car market. For India itself, the Nano's somewhat oversold promise as an engine of industrialization and prosperity remains unfulfilled.
By now, the Nano's conception is the stuff of legend. The brainchild of Ratan Tata, the 73-year-old multi-millionaire chairman of the holding company that controls the $84 billion Tata Group, the car was allegedly inspired by a ubiquitous sight -- a family of four piled atop a scooter in Mumbai traffic. Mopeds, of course, have long been a popular mode of transportation in urban India: cheap, efficient, and reliable -- but dangerous, particularly during the monsoon season. As the story goes, the thought of providing such a family with the comfort and safety of four wheels and a roof set Tata off on his quest to give India its first authentic people's car. It was to be priced at 100,000 rupees, or about $2,200, when announced in 2008, approximately half as expensive as the cheapest offering of the Suzuki offshoot, the Maruti 800. That's still a lot of money for most Indians -- yearly per capita income is only about 55,000 rupees -- but a growing middle class has created a booming economy, clocking double-digit growth rates. Passenger-car sales grew nearly 30 percent last year to 2.5 million.
So why has the Nano been such a bust?
Rarely are a concept and a company so perfectly matched on paper. The idea of a people's car meshes with the Tata Group's carefully burnished image as a business empire imbued with a larger social purpose. Tata Steel, which virtually runs the manufacturing town of Jamshedpur in eastern India's Jharkhand state, has long held a reputation for cradle-to-grave paternalism. Tata Group companies shun such morally questionable businesses as alcohol and tobacco. In line with an avowed nation-building ethos, during the course of its 143-year history the group has given India its first airline, as well as the first Indian-owned steel and power plants. Charitable trusts own about two-thirds of the Tata holding company, Tata Sons, and the group's philanthropy -- in medicine, science, and education among other fields -- has long set it apart from its peers.