Daring To Be Different

Automotive Industries, Sept, 2001

From a purely aesthetic viewpoint, I'm not attracted to modem "stealth" aircraft. To my eyes, the F117 Nighthawk and semi-stealth F22 Raptor, with their flat-paneled skin and sharply chiseled wings, are more industrial than elegant. But these geometric geeks were not created for looks or speed, but to evade enemy radar. In that role, they're beautiful. If I was a flyboy, I'd rather have a Raptor underneath me than an F16 -- even though I could stare at the sensuous Fighting Falcon all day long, as if it was artwork.

Some friends of mine see things differently. They're much younger than I am and are keen observers of aerospace technology. To their eyes, the new-generation fighter planes look exciting, attractive, avant garde. To them, sharp angles are captivating. Rectilinear bodywork is cool. My young friends could stare at a Nighthawk (which, for all its radical shape, is nearly 20 years old) all day long.

Which brings me to my belief that General Motors will score a bulls-eye with its controversial Cadillac product strategy. It's taken me a couple of years to come around on this one. The "machined" forms of Cadillac's recent auto-show concepts -- the Evoq, Imaj and Vizon -- don't appeal to my love of curves. These are the silver-painted cars with the tall, steep snouts that Vice-Charman for Product Development Bob Lutz derided as "snow plows," before he joined GM. All three concepts will spawn production models over the next few years.

By 2004-05, you won't recognize a Cadillac showroom, and you definitely won't mistake the vehicles in it for any other products by any other automaker. Instead, you might think you walked into a hangar at Edwards Air Force Base.

That will be a giant step forward for GM'S flagship marque. It's why I'm starting to believe in the route that design chief Wayne Cherry has steered for Cadillac. It's been risky. There's nothing safe about the overall theme. It's highly polarizing -- customers will either love the new designs or hate them. No one will be caught in the middle.

"Designs that polarize the customer base 50-50 are great," Lutz told me last month in California, "as long as their appeal is to the right 50 percent. Daring to be different is definitely part of Cadillac's future."

Lutz says he's already "wildly impressed" by the 2002 CTS, the recently unveiled Sigma-based sports sedan that also carries stealth-fighter cues. Without Lutz's slight bias, I agree. The late prototype CTS models I've sampled were dynamically excellent And their shapes are not mistaken for anything else on the road.

Then there's the machine you see pictured on this page. It is the Cien, as radical a vision of Cadillac's future as rye ever seen. The name means 100 in Spanish, in honor of Cadillac's anniversary next year when Cien will be driven onto the stage at the North American International Auto Showin Detroit. Its ripping-silk exhaust tone will signal a prototype V-12 mounted midship in a composite chassis (see Trends, page 7).

Lutz indicates that Cien is unlikely to make a viable business case -- but that would be a mistake. For Cadillac to recapture the "Standard of the World" title it lost long ago, the brand must stop following the Germans. It must show clear, continuous design and technology leadership, using whatever platform it takes to show superiority The brand will have the resources to do it, pledges GM CFO John Devine.

A V-12-powered Raptor fighter, sans wings, and wearing the Cadillac crest? That would certainly light up the radar screens of my young aerospace friends. They already like Cadillac's directional change. It might even convince geezers like me that a bold, new Cadillac is back on top to stay.

Lindsay Brooke is editor-in-chief of Automotive Industries