Germany's car industry:The big-car problem

EARLIER this month Germany's carmakers were hit by new emission limits proposed by the European Commission. There were howls of protest, not least from Angela Merkel, the German chancellor. So the proposed ceiling was raised a little, to 130 grams of CO2 per kilometre to be met by 2012. This still left the makers of many of the world's most prestigious cars with the most work: in the European Union only six German-made models meet the target, but 34 of those made by competitors do. Moreover, of all the cars on sale in Germany which pump out more than 200g of CO2 per kilometre, most are German.

This is not a happy state of affairs for a country that likes to lead the way on the environment. Nor does it bode well for Germany's biggest industry, which employs one in seven of the country's manufacturing workforce. Germany's carmakers should benefit from spreading their escalating costs of research and development across a greater volume of vehicles. But attempts to drive into mass markets have failed, with BMW's disastrous takeover of Britain's Rover Group and DaimlerChrysler's marriage now facing divorce.

For the time being, life still looks rosy. Volkswagen this week announced a 52% increase in operating profits for 2006. Mercedes, the car division of DaimlerChrysler, has bounced back from a couple of bad years. Sales of Porsches and BMWs seem almost insensitive to the price of petrol. The German stockmarket barely flinched at the new CO2 standards.

Yet Germany's carmakers are less well-placed for the future than are other European producers, let alone the Japanese. German cars may well continue to dominate the performance parts of the luxury market—after all they are crammed with state-of-the-art technology. But buyers' tastes are changing and they have increasing qualms about the environment. This shift in the market is what has hit Chrysler's sales in America, because it is highly dependent on fuel-thirsty sport-utility vehicles (SUVs) and pick-up trucks.

And in premium carmaking, over-engineering—a familiar German vice—is becoming increasingly costly. Talk to a boffin at DaimlerChrysler or Continental, a big automotive supplier, and he will tell you proudly of the ever-increasing sophistication of cars' electronics: sensors that read the road-surface; adaptive cruise control, which responds to other cars; vehicle-to-vehicle internet communication, and more. Premium cars are the ones that pioneer new technology, they say. Of Germany's big three, Mercedes and BMW have always been premium brands. Now they have been joined by Audi, a division of VW. Porsche is more of a specialist sports manufacturer. All four producers thrive in a domestic market where almost one out of every three cars sold is a premium model. This compares with little more than one in ten cars sold in America. German producers might hope the markets in other countries will continue to become more like their own, but the chances of that happening look increasingly slim—if only because the quest for engineering excellence, greater power, better safety and ever more efficient engines has pushed up costs.

More than any other nation, Germans are obsessed by the car: it was invented in their country. Little can match the elegance of the early Horch convertibles, forerunners of today's Audis; the presence of a Maybach (pictured above)—a brand revived by Daimler—or the acceleration of a hot Porsche 911. Combine history with flair and the union is complete. Cars shape German society as much as German engineering has shaped the car. Behind the wheel, mild and sociable family men become tyrannical zealots, intolerant of sloppy driving and nonchalant at motoring along at 200kph (125mph). Those German autobahns, unencumbered by anything so dull as a speed limit, are a God-given proving-ground for ever faster, more powerful vehicles. Could Porsche or BMW have evolved in a land where you are fined if you drive faster than 55mph?

The national obsession has allowed Ferdinand Piëch, grandson of Ferdinand Porsche, the begetter of the Volkswagen and Porsche marques, to build an empire based more on passion than common sense. In the 1990s, as chief executive of VW, he bought Bentley, a luxury British carmaker, and Bugatti and Lamborghini, a pair of Italian racing-car manufacturers. He backed the development of the Phaeton, a luxury saloon, in an attempt to ennoble even the VW brand. Mr Piëch, chairman of VW since 2002, even unveiled the Veyron, a 1,000-horsepower monster capable of some 400kph.
AP Piëch, the empire builder

All this has been an expensive sideshow for the VW group, Europe's biggest carmaker with around 19% of the total market. But Mr Piëch, whose family along with their Porsche relations own all the voting rights of Porsche and recently raised Porsche's stake in VW to 27.4%, is powerful enough to indulge his passion.

Germany's other auto bosses, Dieter Zetsche at DaimlerChrysler, Wendelin Wiedeking, who runs Porsche, and Norbert Reithofer at BMW, have their feet a little closer to the ground. But, however solid and sophisticated the engineering of their products, it is the emotion of driving the marque that really commands the premium. Can that emotion survive in a world in which drivers face more restrictions and greater awareness of the damage they may be doing to the environment?

Premium carmakers have tended to assume a certain level of price-insensitivity among their clientele. But a new sensitivity is emerging. It could be from tax incentives designed to steer buyers away from emissions-heavy cars, from other government and municipal policies, and from changing consumer sentiment.

London has just extended the area of its traffic-congestion charge, which exempts environmentally friendly vehicles. Richmond, a London borough, plans to set the cost of resident-parking permits by the size of a car's engine. In Germany the federal government is proposing a car tax based on the level of its emissions. Such attempts to influence consumer behaviour are likely to increase. The VDA, the German carmakers' association, has applauded the move to tax CO2 emissions rather than engine capacity.

Peter Fuss, an automotive expert at Ernst & Young, a consulting firm, is confident that German carmakers can not only adapt to these new challenges, but thrive on them. They may have been slow, for example, to see the need to develop hybrid cars—which combine electric and internal-combustion engines for cleaner driving—“but they will quickly catch up,” he says. The strength of German carmakers comes from a huge network of suppliers, combined with the research departments of universities, with which they work closely on new technology. “It's a great chance for Germany as a centre of excellence,” Mr Fuss adds. American carmakers, by comparison, have huge problems with their suppliers, he believes.

Jürgen Pieper, a car-industry analyst at Metzler, an investment bank, sees the problem as purely one of technology, which will be solved. Even if it is not solved in time for the 2012 deadline, companies can probably get by at the premium end of the market simply by paying fines, he says. Porsche and BMW are happily doing this in America, at the cost of millions of dollars a year, for exceeding average fuel-economy standards. The stockmarket, which seems to take the pragmatic view that carmakers will get by on emission standards, is more cheered by the possibility that Daimler may free itself from its loss-making Chrysler division, which Mr Pieper values at zero.

Despite that show of confidence, German car firms do not have much of a road map for an alternative to the fossil-fuel engine. BMW, General Motors (GM) and Honda are working on a joint project for the hydrogen tanks required to feed fuel-cell engines. BMW, DaimlerChrysler and GM have teamed up on a hybrid drive. BMW has developed a totally clean car, the Hydrogen 7. Based on its “7 series”, this can reach 230kph and travel 200km on a single tank of fuel. Unfortunately, only five filling stations in Germany can provide the super-cooled liquid hydrogen the car needs, so it must run on petrol too. It has other drawbacks, including that all the fuel in the tank will evaporate if it is not used for nine days. “The hydrogen car is 20 to 25 years away,” admitted Mr Reithofer, BMW's chief executive, in a recent interview. Even that may be optimistic.

DaimlerChrysler and Audi are perhaps the world leaders in clean-diesel technology. DaimlerChrysler claims that its Bluetec fuel, available in the United States, makes its diesel engines as clean and efficient as a hybrid. Clean diesel, made from fossil fuel or from bio sources, is a seductive answer to environmental concerns. It is so efficient, compared with almost any other power source, that it is likely to be used, at least in long-distance lorries, for decades to come. This is important for DaimlerChrysler, one of the world's biggest lorry-makers, and may have had much to do with Mr Piëch's recent attempts to forge a triple alliance between MAN of Germany, Scania of Sweden and VW's own lorry-making division.

We don't do frugal

What German carmakers have resisted making is a cheap and cheerful car. In recent years, VW attempted it with the Lupo. But this was under-powered and ceased production because demand was so low. Despite being Europe's biggest carmaker, the company has only 6.3% of the low-cost segment in western Europe, according to a study by Roland Berger, a consultant.

There is growing demand for budget cars. The Logan, built in Romania by Dacia, a subsidiary of Renault, is selling unexpectedly well. Now Skoda, a VW subsidiary, is planning to build a new low-cost car at its plant in Bratislava.

DaimlerChrysler had a salutary experience with the Smart, a low-emission runabout. The car is small but sophisticated. It was initially sold and serviced separately from Mercedes and unsurprisingly failed to make an impact on dealers or the public. Now Smart sales and service have been integrated with Mercedes and things are starting to go better. But with a price tag of around 9,500 ($12,470), it is less a peoples' car than a yuppies' one.

One thing hindering change could be German carmakers' fresh memory of surviving a downturn a few years back by sticking to their business model and driving down costs. That helped them maintain their exports—some 64% of which go to other west European countries.

But now alarm bells should be ringing. With the exception of Mercedes and France's Renault, the average age of models proffered by the big European carmakers is increasing—in other words new models are in decline relative to sales volume, according to research by Mr Pieper at Metzler. Whereas German carmakers have proved brilliant at re-engineering and refining their existing platforms, they seldom show the flair associated with something truly innovative.

The apparent complacency of Mr Reithofer at BMW, in a recent interview, says it all: he attributes BMW's growth to increased sales volume, cost cutting and greater efficiency. “We're admired by Toyota for our production flexibility,” he said. “We are able to change specifications to a vehicle just six days before it is produced.” He said little about new concepts that will take BMW out of the gas-guzzling end of the market. The company's answer to the American public's recoil from buying large SUVs, such as its X5, has been to produce the X3, which is smaller but not much more environmentally friendly

If the German passion for premium cars also ebbs, will any German carmaker—besides, perhaps VW's Skoda in Bratislava—be in a position to compete?

Driving east

Only VW, among the German carmakers, has taken advantage of the lower costs offered by assembling cars in central Europe. VW builds Audis, Seats and three types of Volkswagen at its plant in Slovakia. It also builds various cars in Bosnia, the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland. Opel, a German subsidiary of GM, builds cars in Hungary and Poland.

Low wages, combined with proximity to the big west European markets, help reduce production costs. That is despite the extra cost of logistics—two or three times higher than for cars built in western Europe, says a study by the Fraunhofer group at Vienna's University of Technology—and an inevitable loss of quality. Fearing just such a loss of quality, BMW and Porsche have ventured only as far as placing factories in Leipzig in the former East Germany. (Although Porsche's Cayenne SUV is made on the same platform as VW's Touareg, which is assembled in Slovakia; and BMW builds diesel engines in Austria.) Mercedes is nowhere to be seen east of the river Oder.
AP Zetsche tests the Chinese market

BMW and DaimlerChrysler have a relative price advantage, says Wilfried Sihn, head of the Vienna group, “But if you go down-market with, say, the Smart or the Mercedes A Class, costs begin to tell.” He predicts that BMW and Mercedes will have to go east, but probably to Romania or Ukraine, since the cost advantage of locating nearer home is eroding. The central European market is not as big potentially as India or China, says Mr Sihn, “but the purchasing-power today is greater.”

But BMW and Mercedes will be late. Toyota—seen as their most dangerous competitor—is already making cars in Kolin, in the Czech Republic; moreover Peugeots and Citroëns are being assembled by agreement at the same plant. Hyundai, Kia and Daewoo, three South Korean producers, Suzuki and Subaru of Japan, and Lancia and Fiat of Italy are already dotted about the region. Then there is Renault/Nissan in Romania and Slovenia.

The reality is that, of the roughly 15,000 components that go into the average car made in central Europe, 80% are still imported from the west. That will change in time, predicts Mr Sihn: “It's a well-kept secret that research and development lives from production,” he says, “so it will gradually migrate east too.”

Mr Reithofer at BMW will not accept a future in which it is too expensive to make cars competitively in Germany. “Can you imagine an industrial country like Germany in 15 or 20 years without such production?” he said recently. “I hate to think what would happen here if we lost our production base.”

Mr Sihn, despite his dire warnings, is also confident that somehow Germany will remain a manufacturer of automobiles. There will, after all, always be customers prepared to pay more for exclusivity, performance and luxury—even in developing markets like China and India. How big that part of the market will be remains to be seen. German carmakers should not be written off and they could yet spring some surprises. But the trend is turning against them.

If western Europe wants to stay an automobile producer, concluded a recent Ernst & Young study, “it must redouble its efforts in education and research.” Production of components and final assembly will migrate elsewhere, according to its opinion poll of German carmakers and suppliers. But branding and marketing, engineering and design have a chance of staying in Germany and even growing there, said an overwhelming majority of respondents. Germany is the world champion in taking out automotive patents: its car firms spend €16 billion a year on research and development, says Bernd Gottschalk, president of the VDA.

It would be easier to pay for automotive innovations if the costs could be spread across mass-market cars, too. For instance, Daimler and Porsche were among the first to fit airbags, and these are now offered on most cars, big and small. But German carmakers may struggle to enter mass markets. Buying Chrysler was not the answer for Daimler. Along with BMW, it has tried to popularise its premium technology with some smaller, more economy-minded vehicles, like the Mercedes “A” class or BMW's Mini. But these are not “no frills” cheap cars.

The biggest threat to the German motor industry could be a disruptive technology, such as a totally new source of power (unlikely) or (more likely) the gradual decoupling of personal mobility from emotion. Judging by the aspirations of millions of Indians and Chinese for the personal mobility offered by the motor car in their countries, that may not happen for years in emerging markets. But in industrialised countries, where the infrastructure allows it, car-driving is increasingly being integrated with traffic management, safety aids and environmental protection.

Even car-sharing, once rubbished when it was proposed by Eckard Minx, DaimlerChrysler's own futurist who runs a think-tank in Berlin, no longer seems an absurd idea. But it, too, is a subversive one, since it undermines the passion that has sprung from individual freedom and mobility ever since the first rider climbed onto a horse. In the long run changing attitudes could even undermine the market for beautifully made German cars.