Bryan Joslin
Anyone who’s ever been in a difficult relationship can probably see the writing on the wall—Saab’s days with the General are coming to an end. Whether the quirky Swede finds a wealthy new suitor, revels in her independence or becomes a ward of the state remains to be seen. With eminent separation on the horizon, both camps are slowly packing their suitcases, taking pictures off the wall, and trying to figure out how to split the record collection. It’s too bad, really, because they could have been a great couple, if only they’d embraced their differences.
And there certainly were differences. After all, the General is the descendant of generations of American industrial strength and prosperity, while Saab is an unconventional, independent European with a funky lineage. On the surface, the two have as much in common as George W. Bush and Heidi Klum. But down deep, the General was kind of hoping a little of Saab’s sophistication would rub off on him. And for her part, Saab needed some sort of sugar daddy to continue on as she was accustomed.
Look, we’re not taking sides on this one; surely neither was perfect. But as outsiders looking in, we saw plenty of missed opportunities. Seriously, we all hoped they’d have a long and prosperous life together. We’ll even dispense with the corny marriage analogies for now and explain, in all sincerity, how we feel the pair might have forged a stronger partnership in its nearly two decades together.
To begin with, GM could have accepted Saab for what it was—a small, quirky, but intelligent carmaker that once earned the respect and admiration of quirky- but- intelligent owners. Part of their cars' appeal was that they didn’t appeal to everyone, and that’s a very important factor to certain individuals.
It’s OK to be small, as long as you “own” it and make the most of it. Look at Apple.
With that foundation laid, the General could have embraced the fact that Saab can get away with things GM normally can’t. As such, Saabs could have been bursting with the latest technologies before other carmakers were brave enough to dare try. Electrically-heated seats (in 1971) and the Night Panel (in 1994) come to mind as past examples of innovating ahead of the curve. The fact that Saab was the last European brand to offer all-wheel-drive indicates a loss of focus on the engineering leadership front.
As an engineering-focused niche brand with tech-savvy buyers, Saab could have been GM’s first landing point for new and emerging technologies. Whether they are alternative propulsion, safety systems, construction materials, or electronics, Saab could have employed these first, followed by luxury-brand Cadillac, allowing them to eventually filter down through the rest of the GM line when proven and more broadly accepted.
Building on the previous point, Saab’s overseers should have rediscovered the cache that comes from having aircraft roots. It doesn’t matter that the airplanes are built by an entirely entity these days; what matters is that aircraft engineering was a driving force that defined your earliest automotive products. There is nothing wrong with drawing inspiration from the aviation industry to strengthen your identity.
Without getting gimmicky, aircraft design could have continued to inform the styling and spirit of Saab cars. In opposition to Volvo’s more organic design, Saabs could have been allowed to follow a more “mechanical” aesthetic. The use of aluminum, carbon fiber and other composites in the construction of Saab vehicles would further drive that connection home. The “Born from Jets” campaign was a good start, but the product didn’t really deliver on the substance.
At this point in the relationship, it’s easy to look back and see where things may have gone awry—hindsight is usually 20/20, after all. We just hope the next steward of our favorite offbeat carmaker can learn from the past.