Cars: Loss of Life, Loss of Face.

As a Toyota owner I'm understandably following the unravelling of the case of the 'sticky pedal' with interest and concern. Especially to see how they overcome their 'loss of face'. It's an important aspect of Japanese culture. I experienced it when I was Marketing Manager at Sanyo in the U.K.

I was particularly pleased that we were to get a new Managing Director, one with whom I'd had excellent dealings on my visits to Sanyo Japan. We held a welcoming cocktail party at our Watford, England offices for Mr. O (we'll call him) and I overheard that he now lived in the same village as I did. "I live in Abbots Langley as well", I said. "Ah so, where you live?" he asked getting very close and personal. "Abbots Road" I replied. "Ah so" he responded looking very downcast. "Where do you live, Mr. O" I enquired. No answer. I asked again and under his breath he muttered "Kingfisher Drive". At the time I didn't understand his reluctance to reply.

The following morning I drove up to my allotted parking space which was alongside that of the Managing Director just as he drove up in his brand new BMW. He saw my car and was livid. Although his car was gleaming new, and my car all of six years old, mine was bigger than his. I admit it was 'a bit special' - a Fiat 130 Coupe. Elegant, Pininfarina-designed and with a Ferrari engine under the hood.

How I came to buy it is interesting. At the time I was a Scimitar owner. My third actually after totalling the first on a patch of black ice near London Airport on a cold October day. My son had referred to his friend's car - the friend being a part-time car salesman. "You should buy his car dad" he suggested. "It's a Fiat - and it's got a Ferrari engine" he added. Of course, dad knew better. "Fiats don't have Ferrari engines" I said, thinking of the usual small Fiats that I was familiar with. "This one does" he said. And there the matter rested until one Sunday lunchtime I had parked my Scimitar as he and I headed for the local pub. "There, that's the car" my son said pointing to a wonderfully sleek car that impressed me immediately. I spent the lunchtime haggling and exchanged my Scimitar and some cash for the Fiat.

It was an experience. A lovely drive but a so-and-so (I'm being polite) on damp winter mornings, when I'd often have to wait half an hour for the electrics to 'kick in'. But I wouldn't have missed the sheer joy of driving that Fiat 130 Coupe. Until Mr. O saw it.  It gave him apoplexy because it looked bigger and thus better than his brand new car. Not only that but I lived in a street which his street led into. A double whammy! From that moment on my working life was sheer hell because in his eyes he had lost face. In my cartoon below, one person clearly couldn't care less.

Ultimately I left Sanyo and started my own company which I ran for twenty years during which time I encountered the same loss of face concern when I was working freelance for Hitachi. The Japanese M.D. happened to be looking out of his window when the Advertising Agency executive drove up in his Lamborghini. Shortly thereafter Hitachi parted company with the Ad Agency because this 'extravagance' was not acceptable in the M.D.'s mind. Thereby hangs a tale: There are times when one is best advised not to 'flaunt it'. Will we see anything like it featured in 'Mad Men'?

But back to today. In this current situation while some ponder 'loss of face' others reflect on loss of life. So to all drivers out there - go with care.