Can the U.S. government transform GM into a true global car company?
Ralph Orlowski/Getty Images
Ahead of the curve: Germany's Opel has been GM's leading engineering innovator for years.
Outside
a small group of nihilists and committed free marketeers who'd have let
General Motors go under, no matter the price, few question the
necessity of the Obama administration's plan for the once great
American company's reorganization in bankruptcy. But as a U.S.
taxpayer, and therefore one of GM's brand-new owners, I have my doubts
about our ability to manage this new property. Yes, GM's previous
owners proved unable to run a competitive car company in a global
marketplace, but is the U.S. government really the best one to
transform it? Already, the particulars of the Chapter 11 arrangement
lead me to fear that the same sort of internal politics, unthinking
nationalism, and generalized aversion to engineering risk that have
hobbled GM for decades will continue to haunt its new incarnation.
One
place where you won't hear for-attribution criticism of the "new"
General Motors these days is GM headquarters. Perforce they are
obligated to display their gratitude with the unfailing enthusiasm that
a $50 billion-plus investment in a failing business minimally entitles
its benefactors to expect in return. Although the collegial tone of the
new rapprochement comes 50 years late, it is heartening nonetheless to
see American industry finally welcome Washington's involvement in
matters like safety, fuel economy, and emissions regulation.
Even
Robert "Maximum Bob" Lutz, GM's outgoing product czar and vice
chairman, and a fierce critic of government meddling from the "give me
back my bullets" wing of Detroit's old school, has experienced an
astonishing change of heart, at the ripe age of 77. Speaking to a
gathering of journalists in Motor City the other week, Lutz unhinged
every jaw in the house when he shared his thoughts on how the White
House automotive task force ought to become a permanent fixture. Of the
unprecedented government-industry collaboration the Chrysler and GM
bankruptcies begat, Lutz, an ex-Marine attack pilot and
near-libertarian known for making his daily commute in a decommissioned
Czech jet fighter, quipped: "Jeez, it only took 30 years for somebody
to finally figure [government-industry partnership] out."
Er, right. Thirty years and a couple of epochal bankruptcies.
Questions
about the government's intentions for the new GM Lite already abound.
Notably, what will and what should the company's policies be, now that
it is controlled (in theory) by and for the benefit of U.S. taxpayers,
who own 60 percent of its shares?
Will GM be underwritten so as
to lead the market in the direction of fuel saving and new
technologies? Or will it trim its sails and attempt to get by on its
sometimes-profitable religion of pickup trucks and SUVs, perhaps ones
that get slightly better mileage? GM is still tooled up to build them.
Ever
since the 1920s, when GM's Alfred P. Sloan introduced the precepts of
what came to be known as Sloanism -- a car for every purse and purpose
-- a good day at a car dealership was one when you sold someone "more
car than they need." Automobile marketing often appeals to man's baser
emotions. Greed, lust, and envy come to mind, as do excessive
horsepower and other costly and unnecessary options that have been
larded on to new cars to boost profits for longer than any of us have
been alive. So, you can't help wondering, has the U.S. government
entered the business of encouraging people to live out their most
insane automotive dreams? Will it labor to create demand for
automobiles when and where there is no need, as generations of car
companies have done before it?
And where do GM's new
taxpayer/shareholders stand on the matter of outsourcing work to Mexico
or South Korea or China or anywhere else, as the old GM did whenever it
got the chance? Will Chevy production lines in places like Toluca and
Silao, Mexico, come home to the USA? The old GM went in for cheap
overseas labor. Has the government now entered the business of using
taxpayer money to export jobs? Is this the change we need?
Myriad
practical and philosophical quandaries aside, one vital series of
questions about the "new" GM -- which brands will be kept, sold, or
terminated -- has already been answered. Chevrolet, Buick, Cadillac,
GMC, Australia's Holden, and South Korea's Daewoo are to be spared. To
be sold: Saturn, Hummer, and Sweden's Saab are available outright, and
operating control of GM's German division, Opel, is to be sacrificed in
a deal brokered by the German government outside U.S. bankruptcy
proceedings. For the scrap heap: Pontiac, the venerable division that
once claimed to "build excitement." In limbo: Opel's English sister
brand, Vauxhall.
There's no doubt that General Motors' current
sales won't sustain all these brands along with the factories,
dealerships, and personnel that go with them. At 13 percent and
falling, GM's share of the American market has declined meteorically
from the 50 percent the company actively aimed not to exceed, as
recently as the 1980s, lest it incur antitrust activity.
The
brand-winnowing process is critical, yet it has been misguided,
informed not by the urgent need for innovation but by the corporation's
newfound poverty -- which fosters subpar long-term thinking in the
world of business as surely as it does in housing projects -- as well
as by a new, federal brand of GM's trademark shortsighted
decision-making.
The choice to jettison Saturn -- GM's only
great, post-Vietnam marketing success -- was certainly questionable,
but the decision to relinquish control of Opel, though understandable
in terms of American politics (sending U.S. taxpayer money to Germany
is never a big applause line), seems most regrettable of all.
Purchased
in 1929, Opel is one of GM's bestselling, best-respected divisions and
easily its most technically proficient. Indeed, Opel designs and
engineers GM's finest small and medium-sized cars, the sort of machines
a new and responsible GM ought to spend more time thinking about:
smaller and lighter than those most Americans drive today, and by
virtue of this, more fuel efficient, more agile, and more responsive.
Opel
has similarly been in the driver's seat for much of GM's
forward-thinking engineering in the area of alternative -- hybrid,
hydrogen fuel cell, and battery electric -- powertrains. Indeed,
America's love affair with GM's awesome Corvettes and fast Cadillacs
notwithstanding, Opel and its engineering team, forged in the crucible
of the hypercompetitive European market, which has long placed a
premium on efficiency, is today overall the best, most exciting part of
GM. So why give it up? (Although GM does hope to retain 35 percent of
the company, Canadian parts supplier Magna and Russia's Sberbank's
combined 55 percent interest will severely limit its role.)
Excise
the Opel-derived Chevrolet Malibu and much of the suddenly excellent
Saturn range (Opels in all but name), and you've deleted the best
mainstream cars GM offers in the United States. Take Opel out of the
mix and you've suddenly charged its North American engineering team
with building the cars of the future. Arguably the least relevant of
all GM's engineering outposts, these are the people who -- when they
weren't building big pickups and leviathan SUVs -- gave us the
TrailBlazer and the execrable Pontiac Aztek. Handing them the keys to
our company's future could well make success unattainable.
True,
Opel has fallen in and out of profit and is losing money as we speak.
But car-selling is the classic boom-and-bust business, and Opel has
actually been more profitable lately than any of the surviving U.S.
divisions, selling almost 1.5 million cars in Europe last year (plus
another 350,000 Opel-clone Vauxhalls), and setting sales records in
2009 in Central and Eastern Europe, where it grew 41 percent, or a rate
four times faster than the rest of the industry. Sales in Russia were
up 49 percent, while Vauxhall's British market share actually grew to a
very healthy 17.2 percent. The greatest measure of Opel's worth is that
knowledgeable people want to buy it.
So, my fellow GM
shareholders, why are we getting rid of it? And more importantly, what
kind of car company are we trying to build?
Jamie Lincoln
Kitman, a New York lawyer and winner of the 2009 National Magazine
Award for commentary, is New York bureau chief of Automobile Magazine
and U.S. editor of Britain's Top Gear.
FOREIGN POLICY welcomes letters to the editor. Readers should address their comments to Letters@ForeignPolicy.com.