KING OF THE AUTOMOTIVE WORLD.

By Peter M. De Lorenzo

Detroit. No Sergio, this column isn’t about you, though knowing your sense of unbridled entitlement and delusion about your place in the automotive world, you would so desperately want it to be.

No, this column is about me, The Autoextremist, and what I’d do if I became King of the Automotive World. For some, this news would be akin to being told you were being reassigned to a yarn farm somewhere far away from the action, or worse. In fact, for quite a few of the go-along-to-get-along hordes that go through the motions in this business, this news would be an untenable, lethal cocktail of Sturm und Drang, with a chaser of world-ending, head-in-hands dismay, as in, “Oh no, Walter, I think we’re screwed.”

Oh well, boo-frickin’-hoo as we like to say around here, because no industry needs a dose of reality – brought with a reassuring whack of a 2x4 to the forehead, I might add – more than the auto industry, which is in the midst of its latest back-slappin’, the-good-times-are-never-gonna-end frenzy.

Well, guess what, the giddiness stops here.

My first day on the throne would be a busy one, because I would release a series of edicts (through my handpicked PR minions, no less) that would roil the industry for months on end. To wit:

The First Royal Edict. The Sergio Shit Show would be officially brought to an end and FCA would be broken up into the following pieces:

1. Jeep would be put up for bidding between GM and Ford. Make no mistake, it’s The Franchise and it will be worth $6 billion alone. So there’s that.

2. Dodge Ram Trucks would be put up for bid between Nissan and Toyota, because, well, Nissan would be better off buying ready-made pickups as they have demonstrated repeatedly and convincingly that they just don’t have the wherewithal to get it done. When it comes to pickups and Nissan, there’s just no “there” there, and it’s time to end the silly charade once and for all. It’s sad, but it’s the High-Octane Truth. Except that Toyota has so much cash sitting around that this bidding war would be over in about two minutes, and then Toyota would have an instant grand-slam home run truck brand to sell. Then they could finally get that eternal chip off their shoulder brought about by having to compete with Ford and Chevrolet all of these years. And even better, we could all finally be done hearing about it. A win-win for the whole damn industry, as far as your King is concerned.

3. Ralph Gilles and a hand-selected group of Chrysler’s hardest core True Believers would be given all of the tooling and resources to launch an independent high-performance car company so that they could build Hellcats, Vipers and hot rods to their heart’s content. And without the Italians taking credit for any of it, which would be a bonus unto itself.

4. As for the “F” in FCA, Fiat would be “consolidated” - more like imploded - and banished back to Europe. And Marchionne and his espresso-swilling posse would have to figure out how to market and sell his mediocre Fiat product lineup on its own merits, without siphoning the profits from Jeeps and pickup trucks to prop up what will soon be a failed enterprise. Which would be the same as it ever was, come to think of it. Good night. Good luck. And good riddance.

The Second Royal Edict. Audi, BMW, Mercedes-Benz and Porsche are immediately prohibited from bringing in any more new models into the U.S. market. Instead, they will have to present their product plans to The King and I will rule as to their validity, worthiness, stupidity, etc. This means an immediate cessation to all crackpot niche automotive fantasies harbored by German car executives, the ones that go something like this: “A Porsche entry in the U.S. market to compete with the Buick Encore is exactly what we need!” Or, “A six-wheeled Mercedes-Benz crossover slotted above the Cadillac Escalade is just what the Doctor ordered!” As King, I will be fair, but this rampant product segment boneheadedness as practiced by the Germans will be brought to a merciful halt. You can all thank me later.

The Third Royal Edict. Any car company doing business here in the U.S. market that sells over 1,000,000 vehicles annually would be required to build an engine for the Indianapolis 500. “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing” and the single most important motor race in the world – and an American treasure - deserves to be treated as such, with multiple manufacturers squaring off against each other for supremacy at The Speedway. Short-hitters and “convenience marketers” will be given a pass, but only after they publicly admit that they don’t have the know-how or the cojones to compete. The only other grounds for a pass? See below.

The Fourth Royal Edict. Within four years of my ascension to the throne, one of America’s two major automobile manufacturers – or both - must design, engineer and build a machine to compete for the overall win at the 24 Hours of Le Mans. That means competing against the best currently in the game (Audi, Porsche, Toyota, et al) in the most famous and prestigious sports car endurance race in the world. It has been 49 years – count ‘em - since an American manufacturer won overall at Le Mans. And that’s a giant, steaming bowl of Not Good.

The Fifth Royal Edict. From this point forward any automotive marketer who unleashes two loser brand or product campaigns in a row will be forced to do Tier 2 advertising exclusively for the rest of that calendar year. Now, given that some major auto manufacturers are already doing Tier 2 advertising and calling it national advertising, those companies will be prohibited from asking their ad agencies to create a Super Bowl ad for two years, since they’re obviously incapable of discerning what constitutes good advertising in the first place.

The Sixth Royal Edict. Any marketer for a car company who starts acting like a “marketing genius” will be hauled before me and given fifteen minutes to explain why they shouldn’t be immediately banished to The Island of Wimps and Twerps, which is part of the Spineless Weasel archipelago, which is just south of the “Where the f--k am I?” province. There they will be forced to market shit as shinola to the locals by selling the Yellow Pages, until such time that I deem that they’ve been de-genius-fied. If that doesn’t work they will be immediately sent to Unctuous Prick University, where they will work toward getting a Digital Marketing Guru degree. Once that’s completed, they will be sent to Milan to help Sergio sell used Fiats and broke-ass Alfas out of an abandoned gas station.

The Seventh Royal Edict. I will give GM 120 days to hire a Chief Marketing Officer and if they don’t come up with someone acceptable, I will appoint one for them. A company that size without a CMO? It’s a complete travesty.

The Eighth Royal Edict. The 20 top executives from the two Detroit-based U.S. automakers will be required to go to a city somewhere in the U.S. - one that’s distinctly disconnected from anything having to do with the automobile - for two full weeks. There they will be required to visit their respective dealers during the day and at night they can commiserate about what it’s like being in an environment that doesn’t revolve around them, or the automobile, aka, the Real World.

The Ninth Royal Edict. From this day forward July 1^st will become True Believers Day in the Kingdom. That day will be set aside to pay tribute to the men and women who not only care deeply about what they do in this business, but who have a passion for excellence that still burns bright despite the hordes of spineless weasels, recalcitrant twerps and lowly denizens of the Vast Gray Middle who deign to obfuscate, block, slow or impede progress and creativity at every turn. In addition a True Believer Hall of Fame will be created so that on July 1^st the Kingdom can celebrate the myriad accomplishments of the Best and Brightest in this business since it began.

The Tenth Royal Edict. The first car company doing business in this kingdom that successfully keeps a lid on a new product launch before its unveiling, and then announces that orders can be taken on the spot for delivery in 60 days, will be immediately bestowed a $10 billion bonus. And, every other manufacturer doing business in the kingdom will be forced to contribute to that prize. But – and there’s always a “but” – that product must be desirable to me, which means that it must be beautiful to look at, fun to drive, and memorable in every way, because it always has been and always will be about The Product.

And that’s the High-Octane Truth for this week.