There is a tiny bit of the mad scientist about Dr. Ulrich Bez, the passionate engineer who is the chief executive officer and prime architect of Aston Martin's drive to relevance and profitability in the 21st century.
Mad scientist? Well, not because Bez had the chutzpah to race "a very rich person's" rare, $6-million 1959 Aston Martin DBR1 to a category win at the 24 Hours of Le Mans last summer in France. And not because the 60-year-old has a doctorate in engineering from the University of Stuttgart and has written more than 40 scientific publications. And certainly not only because his energy is astonishing, he dresses in black most of the time, and he has thick, bushy eyebrows that brush against his ruby-coloured reading glasses as he scans the fine print.
No, I say "mad scientist" because he spent his Christmas vacation zooming thousands of kilometres about Europe testing early versions of the $210,000-$240,000 2005 DB9 to make sure it was just right for the car's spring launch. (I have since been the first and only Canadian to get behind the DB9's wheel. His holiday was no hardship.) Bez is a bit "out there," a bit different in the sense that he has invested four years of his life unabashedly, relentlessly and thoroughly consumed with reinventing Ford Motor Co.'s ultra luxury sports car unit, the smallest and most exclusive Ford brand.
But the past four years cannot have been easy. During his first two years at Aston's helm, parent Ford was bleeding billions -- $6.4-billion (U.S.) combined in 2001 and 2002. The Ford CEO who hired him, Jac Nasser, left with his disgraced vision of turning Ford from a car company into a consumer products and services provider.
Somehow Bez managed to protect Aston's three-model business plan (approved by Ford's board in January, 2001) against the No. 2 auto maker's relentless cost cutting and job slashing. Some would say he was crazy to try, much less succeed.
But he is the quintessential "car guy" and I think that has armoured him for the challenge. Aston is the pinnacle for this career engineer -- he has overseen product design and development at Porsche and BMW and was responsible for the design, development and introduction of the Porsche 911 Turbo, the Carrera RS, the 968 and 993, and Porsche's vehicle research and development.
Aston will make great cars and it must be profitable, Bez says. It must contribute to Ford's stated goal of a pretax profit of $7-billion by the middle of the decade. At the same time he's realistic about Aston's place in the Ford universe.
"Aston Martin will not be killing or saving Ford Motor Co.," he says as he sips a single malt, speaking in a soft, steady voice that is at once calming and slightly intimidating. Clearly, he's not a man who fools around; he does not come across as a practical joker. If he's a yeller and a screamer, we didn't see it during two days with him and the Aston Martin crew in the south of France near Nice.
But he does fill a room -- a tall, trim German with dark, piercing eyes and cat-like movements. He looks at least a decade younger than his 60 years, with just a hint of grey at the temples of his jet-black hair. He looks flat-bellied and fit; his bio lists skiing, mountain biking and car racing as hobbies.
I must believe that this energy of his is infectious, that it fuels the Aston team. I also think everyone at Aston will get a lift from what I predict will be the great success of the DB9.
Such success will mean the 90-year-old car maker, which has changed owners as often as J-Lo changed her mind about Ben Affleck, will deliver more than a serious cash return on the hundreds of millions Ford has invested in the DB9 and Aston's new headquarters in Gaydon, Warwickshire, England. If, as Bez predicts, Aston becomes "the world's most prestigious and exclusive sports car company," huge gobs of Ferrari-like prestige will flow over from Aston to Ford's stable of luxury brands, the Premier Automotive Group made up of Aston Martin, Jaguar, Land Rover and Volvo.
Ah, Ferrari: Bez sees the Italian company as a benchmark with similarities. Ferrari struggled under Fiat ownership in the early 1990s until it put a single man in charge -- Luca di Montezemolo -- and left him alone to focus on producing great cars and winning races; the parent Fiat was there in the background only when needed. Not surprisingly, Bez has his sights set on Ferrari.
"The only competition I see for Aston Martin in the luxury sports car market is Ferrari," he says. "Others [such as the rival 2005 Bentley Continental GT] originate from a mass-production model and are then re-engineered and rebodied."
And Porsche? It has tarnished its image as a maker of serious sports cars by moving into the sport-utility market with the Cayenne. Not surprisingly, through the first half of the current fiscal year, 911 and Boxster sales fell 26 per cent and 44 per cent respectively.
"Porsche is no longer a sports car brand because the company is now making light trucks," he says. "And with sales of 100,000 units a year, they are no longer exclusive." For the record, Porsche is predicting global sales of 75,000 units in fiscal 2004.
While Bez says Porsche is no longer exclusive, Aston Martin is and will remain so, though not quite as exclusive as it was in 1992 when the company built only 42 cars.
Last year, Aston built 1,500 cars. This year, Aston wants to build 2,000, and there will be 5,000 a year, every year, starting in 2005. But no more than that. All the while, Aston will be earning a tidy if not spectacular income.
"Prestige needs profit," says Bez, as a kind of mantra to anyone who asks about the business plan he prepared when he joined Aston in the summer of 2000. "But a prestige company is not measured by yearly growth of revenue. We will be measured by constant profit.
"I have said this: History without a future is just history. History with a future is heritage. With the [profitable] DB9, we give Aston Martin a future."
Several hundred kilometres of testing the car has convinced me that the DB9 is definitely not an expensive automotive white elephant.
It does, however, follow in some very big footprints. It replaces the DB7, which has been the most successful car in Aston's history with more than 7,000 sold. That's more than the combined sales of the DB4 (of James Bond fame), DB5 and DB6. At the same time, the DB9 will come in at a price no higher than the outgoing DB7, which lists at $206,500-$236,500.
The DB9, though, is a much better car. Its styling is less cluttered, the handling more precise, power comes on smoother and in a more even handed way and the coupe's cabin has room for someone 6 foot 3. So there's headroom simply not to be found in the DB7.
The DB9 also represents more than just one car. It is based on Aston's new VH (vertical horizontal) platform which will eventually carry at least three models, including a less pricey Aston in the sub-$200,000 range and the next flagship Vanquish. I expect they'll all be fast, but it will be a stretch for them to speed past this DB9 -- 0-100 km/h in just under five seconds and a top speed of 300 km/h.
It is also gorgeous, and with perfect 50-50 weight distribution, it does, as Bez says, "handle as good as it looks."
This lightweight (1,760-kg) car, made of aluminum and feather-like composites, is a hand-built 2+2 coupe with a 450-hp V12 engine, a ZF "drive-by-wire" six-speed automatic transaxle with magnesium-alloy paddle shifters on the steering column and massive 19-inch alloy wheels. The convertible DB9 Volante will come in the fall, and aside from its powered folding top, will be the same car.
At high speeds, the DB9 is so stable that conversations at 160 km/h are normal and relaxed. This really strikes me and my colleague Ken Gross, who writes about cars for Playboy magazine. We are speeding back to Nice after a day of carving through wickedly twisty country roads when this fact hits us.
"Ken, I'm doing 110 (mph) and it seems like nothing," I say in an everyday voice, wondering just what the speed limit is. Whatever it is, I am barely keeping up with all these Frenchmen in their odd little cars.
Here on the highway it's not so evident, but earlier in the day we also both were surprised at how quick the steering is for such a large sports car. Quick but not too much so. Our day took us through the mountainous countryside north of Nice -- up, down and around steep grades and near-180-degree hairpins.
Naturally, we were happy to find the massive Brembo brakes are confidence-inspiring; they really haul you down, yet they're not twitchy or grabby. When cornering, the DB9 feels as though it will hold the road and never lose its grip -- on the proverbial rail. Just in case, though, the DB9 comes with Aston's first stability control system, one programmed not to intervene too early to keep you in your lane.
Jeremy Main, the director of product development, says the DB9's stability system will overrule the driver only when absolutely necessary -- just in time to stop a calamity by applying individual braking at each wheel and, when necessary, a reduction in throttle.
The DB9 also looks the part of a prestigious sports car/GT and that truly sets it apart from, say, a Porsche 911 or any of its many derivatives. Honestly, while Porsche has tweaked the looks of its legendary sports car over the decades, the basic design hasn't changed from Day 1. I'm sure Porsche-philes will hate me for that. Rumour has it that a new 911 is coming this fall. Will Porsche stretch its styling in the face of new and serious competition? We'll see.
In any case, the DB9's styling is the work of former BMW designer, Henrik Fisker, who in an earlier life helped create the lovely Z8 sports car. Fisker was the sole designer to work on the DB9, which is extraordinary in the car business.
"If this car doesn't work," he says, "you can fire me because I'm responsible for how it looks."
He has nothing to worry about. Fisker says he wanted the car to look like "it was milled out of a solid piece of aluminum. The way the car sits on the road is crucial. A long, sleek look is what we wanted."
And it's what he got, in part thanks to a long wheelbase and wide track -- 149 mm longer and 52 mm wider than the DB7. From the side you see a single-sweep roofline, there is a pronounced boot reminiscent of the DB4 and DB5, up front is the distinctive grille, there are no visible bumpers at either end and the metal side strakes are traditional Aston cues. At the rear are unique LED tail lamps.
It's not merely the tail lamps that grab the attention of cheese sellers who offer us samples in the market of a village about 150 km from Nice. It's not every day such a voluptuous automobile comes calling. So they trade us delicious samples of Gouda and Havarti for a chance to slide into the leather seats. My university French is poor, but I understand, "C'est magnifique."
Inside, the cabin is thick with aluminum and natural materials such as leather, wood and even bamboo. Even the instrument dials are made of aluminum. The Bridge of Weir upholstery is hand-stitched, the dashboard message centre has what Aston calls an "organic electroluminescent display" (although they are just as hard to read in the sunshine as common LCDs or liquid crystal displays) and wood in the centre console and on the doors comes in large chunks that have been cut out to house controls, sound systems and the like. The clear glass starter button on the centre console is a unique design feature, as is the Aston Martin logo sand-etched into it.
"We have tried to redefine what is luxury in a luxury car," Fisker says. "Just to have leather and wood in the interior is not enough. You need something more . . . anybody can have leather and wood in a car. So really, wood is part of the structure. It's not an appliqué, not added on. That's the reason for having these large pieces of wood in the door and sitting in the centre console with buttons and vents integrated."
The DB9's cabin is also pleasantly lacking in obvious high-tech doodads. Lots of electronics are at work here -- in fact the entire electrical architecture was developed in partnership with Volvo -- but they aren't the focus. Driving is.
"You don't buy an Aston Martin to play games on the in-car computer or to send e-mails,"
Fisker says. He is absolutely correct. After an entire day zooming through the countryside, e-mails were the furthest thing from my mind.