How to sell diesel to Americans: a Denise McCluggage McBlog

I called Ford executive Mark Fields a "wuss" in my AutoWeek column because he would not commit to bringing to our shores the charming Fiesta with the optional diesel engine. Gasoline power, yes; that Fiesta is scheduled to arrive within the year (from Mexico).

But no diesels. The mileage for the gas engine is rated at a so-so (for a small car) 35 mpg. The diesel gets almost double that.

Mark has that lovely title at Ford--Head of All the Americas--so the power is his. I dissed him because he chose to operate from the safe, wussy notion that Americans won't buy diesel.

True, that conviction is easier than ever to defend these days. While Europeans were where we are now with diesel use a dozen years ago, that use has zoomed to more than half of all cars on the road in Europe being diesel-powered. Some countries are 90 percent diesel. Yes, of course, taxation and driving conditions are different there. And, Americans have never cottoned to the European ideal of sporty wagons and hatchbacks, mostly on the small side and mostly well-appointed.

In addition, three things make diesel an even tougher sell in the United States at the moment:

-- Diesel fuel, once predictably 10 cents to 20 cents cheaper per gallon than gasoline, now unpredictably ranges from 20 cents to a dollar more than gasoline. And you will find that on pumps within a mile of each other.

-- Gasoline prices that recently were through the roof have descended (for the nonce) to cellar level. And so far in this country, the only widely known selling point for diesel is its superior fuel mileage. (See item No. 5 below.) Economy has once more fallen down the list of attractions to a car.

-- Increasingly stringent emission standards have led to a costly--though effective--redesign of Dr. Rudolph Diesel's invention. So diesel vehicles cost still more than comparable gas-powered ones--sometimes a lot more.

Now Mark Fields looks wiser than he does wussy, wouldn't you say?

But I still think he could shoot to hero if he broke out of the box and brought in a diesel. And if it's not the Fiesta, then bring something. When I spoke with him at the Los Angeles auto show, he allowed diesels' virtues but said: "My first job is to make money."
Mark Fields, Ford's president of the Americas. Denise wants to know, is he a diesel visionary or a wuss?
A picture of Mark Fields, Ford's president of the Americas. Denise wants to know, is he a diesel visionary or a wuss?

Mark Fields, Ford's president of the Americas. Denise wants to know, is he a diesel visionary or a wuss?

And, Mark, this is how. With a diesel.

1. Understand the diesel market in the States.

It is not broad, no. But it is deep and intense. People who want diesels really, really want them. They admire the Mercedes-Benz E-class and the fact that Mercedes charges only $1,000 more for the Bluetec diesel model than for the gasoline engine. But many of the most avid diesel-seekers cannot play in that price range.

Many would-be diesel buyers are angry with Volkswagen. They have put money down on a TDI and then weeks, even months, later have had their deposit returned. No explanation. Order canceled. Even many dealers think VW is doing some jerking around. The point here: Any carmaker who puts a moderately priced diesel car or wagon on the market in adequate numbers will win lasting loyalty from these frustrated buyers.

2. Don't provide comparisons.

Why did the Toyota Prius win the hybrid market even though Honda was first with the technology? The Prius was unique. There was no other Toyota remotely like it. That meant there was no direct way to compare prices. At a Honda store, on the contrary, you can find a Civic and a Civic hybrid side by side and they are all but indistinguishable. The hybrid costs a chunk more.

Buyers could instantly see that there was a serious hybrid premium. And that gave them pause, and pause led them to wonder about such things as the cost of batteries when that time came. Prius buyers were dazzled by what appeared to be upscale gadgetry and the very idea of hybrid power. Batteries, smatteries. And the down-scale drum brakes in the rear went unnoticed. On its own in the world, the Prius wasn't a car, it was a Prius.

So if Mark Fields does bring a Fiesta diesel, he should bring diesel only, no gasoline version for comparisons. (See item No. 6 for other ways to blur the cost.)

3. When something is different, make it very different.

Hybrid owners wanted to flaunt their condition. "Lookee me, I'm different. I'm green!" The Prius flaunted; the Civic hid behind a fan. Fields should offer the diesel Ford, whether Fiesta or Fusion (which I think would sell even better) in one or two special diesel-only colors. Offer a choice of add-on graphics. Celebrate the diesel-ness.

4. Make ownership an experience.

So the paint colors and graphics offer individual choice and clan membership. Ownership is belonging. Wave as you pass each other. Wear caps and T-shirts and relish Dr. Rudolph's gadgetry. Hold regional and national reunions and rallies. Distribute an online informational newsletter. Give diesel owners stuff.

With each diesel sold, Ford would, in effect, give a handful of pebbles to each buyer to cast widely on the lake's surface. Each little ripple is a neighbor saying, "That can't be a diesel, it's quiet and doesn't stink." Add a drive around the neighborhood and diesel appreciation is born. And maybe even a new buyer. Diesels spread themselves like nothing else.

5. Emphasize torque and range.

Yes, diesel gets astounding mileage, but that's only part of it. It's the low-end torque--that "pickup" that sweeps you across an intersection, up an interstate ramp or past a long truck on a two-lane blacktop--that puts a smile on your face whatever the price of fuel. And it's the long time between fuel stops that delights nearly everyone who ever held a wheel.

In Europe, it was performance that first sold diesel power to buyers, not economy. Diesel got its toehold in upscale cars and trickled down to the econoboxes.

6. Blur the actual cost.

To please the modern buyer, a diesel must have a number of traits, all of them costly. It must be turbocharged. It must have a sophisticated engine-management system. It must have clean-diesel technology with particulate traps and a means of counteracting nitrogen oxides. In short, it must comply with the emissions standards of all 50 states.

The new clean diesels do that. And the cost may be $3,000 to $4,000 more than a comparable gasoline engine, up to $6,000 in a pickup. OK, Mark, this is what you do: Add content such as maybe leather or even a sunroof. Give owners trick keys. Dandy sound. Goodies. A distinguishing feature of optional goodies is that they are priced to a customer way, way over cost. C'mon, $1,500 for a hole in the roof? But here, they are not optional.

Here, the surprise and delight is all standard. It comes with the diesel. The pricey content is charged at cost or even at a loss, but of course, that is not broken out for the buyer. I call this "homogenizing the value." The car is as sharp as an elbow under the basket and as rich as a Sacher torte. That lovely quality known as "perceived value" is off the charts. But all of this--the special paint, the collection of gadgetry--can be had only in the diesel-powered model. (If they don't listen to me and offer gasoline power, too.)

The upshot: There is no way to figure out how much "extra" the diesel engine actually costs. All the value is schmussed into one price. Homogenized.

Come on, Mark Fields, if you can't make money selling a Ford diesel that way, then you are not the bright, capable guy I know you to be. You are, after all, that wuss I called you.