When I met Ratan Tata: Remembering a quiet giant of the car world
"Mr Tata was utterly unique; a quiet and soft-spoken man who sought no glory"
Ratan Tata's trust and passion put JLR on the path to glory – and his towering legacy will be felt for years
The death of Ratan Tata, the man whose bravery and vision did more than anyone else to build JLR into the world-class car manufacturer it has become today, will be met by honest, unaffected sadness all around the world.
Mr Tata was unique; a quiet and soft-spoken man who sought no glory, yet whose pre-eminence was recognised and admired wherever he went because of what high ideals had helped him achieve. In a world where 'goodness' is an outmoded concept, Ratan Tata showed us how to put it to work.
In my very first meeting with Mr Tata I saw goodness well and truly harnessed for business.
As part of a baying group of hacks at the Geneva motor show, desperate to grab any exclusive fact-fragment about his global conglomerate’s impending takeover of Jaguar and Land Rover, I asked how he intended to cope with a bloody-minded Midlands workforce who in time past had eaten managements like his for breakfast.
His gaze was steady. He was entirely unfazed. At a 17-year distance I can’t remember Mr Tata’s exact words but they went something like this: “Our group has achieved success in many fields by making it possible for managements and staff to do their best work – and then trusting them to do it. That’s what we will do this time.”
It sounded naive, but of course it worked wonderfully well. And went on working. JLR proceeded to do things that were (and are) the envy of the world.
Those of us who had a chance to know Mr Tata will feel forever lucky: at my first one-on-one, when my rather desperate focus was again on teasing Jaguar headlines out of our conversation, Mr Tata preferred to talk about a pile of motoring magazines beside his bed at home, containing stuff I had written and he had read. How amazing is that?
When we did talk Jaguar – not long before the acquisition deal was actually cemented – he displayed his credentials as a design expert and a lifelong car enthusiast by talking in great detail of the great Jags from history.
When I asked him whether (as was widely rumoured) he intended to commission a new Jaguar sports car, an F-Type, he was the soul of respect for the Jag vendor, denying that he had the authority to do such a thing. But he “looked forward to a day when it might be possible”.
I feel especially sorry today for two past JLR stalwarts – former CEO Dr Ralf Speth and retired driving dynamics guru Mike Cross. Both drew inspiration from Ratan Tata’s presence, company and advice.
Speth especially admired Mr Tata for his ideals in business. Cross enjoyed the chairman’s delight in a great car, well driven; every couple of months the pair would grab a car and go, just driving.
It’s fashionable to say that many a great man’s legacy will live long after his death. Sometimes it’s even true. But in British motoring, Ratan Tata’s contribution will be something else. Quite simply, it will be indelible.