By Peter M. DeLorenzo
Detroit. We seem to be, no, make that we are teetering on the edge here. We are between the darkness and the light, the future and the past, the old and the new, the known and the unknown. We are living in constant turmoil, consumed by a virus that shows no signs of abating and wondering what will come next. Navigating unchartered territory has become a way of life, and it’s not something we could have prepared for either.
We have to admit that things were pretty predictable and expected for us right up until last March. You lived your life under whatever parameters that entailed. Whether it involved working or surviving, or just being, we all pretty much plowed ahead. Then everything came to a screeching halt with the pandemic. And now everything is different. The automobile business – like corporate America – changed dramatically overnight. Working from home not only became a thing, it is now the thing, and the thought of going back to the old way seems remote at this point. In fact, GM and Ford aren’t even considering going back to in-person working until next June, at the earliest. And I predict that date will slide too.
But it’s not just corporate America that has undergone a fundamental upheaval. All of the businesses we come in contact with on a local level have been thrust into upheaval as well. And a huge swath of those businesses will simply not survive. We’ve all seen it in our own towns, big and small, across the country. Family-owned businesses that became local traditions and have been part of the fabric of communities for decades have fallen by the wayside. We now see empty retail storefronts and vacant spaces where favorite restaurants used to be. Local signposts and touchstones have simply disappeared.
Some people – with the operative word being some – seem to dismiss the turmoil roiling our daily lives with the statement that, “Yeah, but the stock market is kicking ass.” Yes, I suppose some people have done very well in the stock market over the last eight months, but there’s a huge number of people who are not doing well. The economic upheaval due to the pandemic is real, and for a lot of people “getting by” was a way of life, right up until last March. Then “getting by” was reduced to a crushing daily desperation for far too many of our fellow Americans.
As I alluded to before, this is not the American way of life we had become used to. No, we were not all Shiny Happy People blissfully skipping along, but whatever it was we were engaged in, we had carved out a path for ourselves that was, if not totally predictable, at least expected as part of our daily lives.
So, what’s next? Everyone wants to know. But the crystal balls have gone dark, and there are no algorithms in existence that will offer even a shred of enlightenment or solace at this juncture. The one comment that I used to hear a lot about two months into the pandemic was something like this: “I can’t wait for this to be over so we can get back to normal.”
Now, that I can safely predict: There is no getting back to whatever was before. And we need another word because “normal” simply does not apply anymore. The swirling maelstrom of life as we’ve come to know it is now punctuated by daily turmoil and forged in uncertainty. Whatever our collective vision was for what our way of life should be will be blowin’ in the wind from here on out. I am reminded of a line Harold Ramis delivered in the movie Knocked Up: “Life doesn’t care about your vision. You just gotta roll with it.” Yes, it’s easy to say, but in reality, that’s exactly what we have to be prepared to do.
The auto business is no different. I’m seeing predictions of runaway product success from certain auto manufacturers, and all I can say is that the aforementioned daily turmoil and uncertainty are bound to affect even the best-laid plans. I recommend that these companies have contingency plans for their contingencies, because whenever I hear that a product is a “can’t miss grand slam home run,” I cringe.
Add to this seething cauldron of uncertainty the most contentious election in American history and it’s no wonder we have this overwhelming feeling of living on the edge. Indeed, as Ray Davies (The Kinks) so eloquently put it: We’re living on a thin line:
Now another century nearly gone,
What are we gonna leave for the young?
What we couldn't do, what we wouldn't do,
It's a crime, but does it matter?
Does it matter much, does it matter much to you?
Does it ever really matter?
Yes, it really, really matters.
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
And that’s the High-Octane Truth for this week.