Whither Cadillac?

Day three of the North American International Auto Show in Detroit is comparatively quiet. I took advantage of the lull to chin wag with Clay Dean, Cadillac’s Global Design Director and Dave Caldwell, Caddy’s top spin man. Both men were refreshingly candid. So I challenged the duo on the brand’s marketing mix: product, price, place, and promotion. While the adulation heaped upon the CTS, CTS-V and CTS Coupe indicate that Cadillac’s lineup is better off now than when ‘Slade sales started slipping, what of Caddy’s future?

“When someone [at Cadillac] comes up with a really bad idea, we call it a Cimarron,” Dean declared. The Cadillacs of my formative years predate even this debacle. Back in the day, Caddy was the purveyor of over-sized flaccid barges for middle-income Florida retirees and active Mafiosi. Compared to the tightly-built imports of the day, Caddies seemed poorly packaged, clumsy handling and sloppily built— if only because they were.

To the automaker’s detriment, Cadillac clung to their bigger-is-better, living-room-on-wheels, mid-market brand identity while their target demographic was gradually interred en masse into nursing homes or burial plots. Meanwhile, the rest of the world continued to evolve technologically. Upmarket Americans gradually forsook wreath-crested wafting for a European snob appeal and driver-centric dynamics. By the turn of the century, the once-proud Cadillac brand embodied middle-income America’s obesity and sloth.

Finally, five years ago, Cadillac got serious about adapting to the market trends that they’d derided, denied and declaimed for the better part of two decades. In 2003, Cadillac introduced their 5-Series killer, the CTS. It was no hardened assassin, but the model signaled a fundamental change to the brand.

“Today, the closest vehicle Cadillac makes to the old standard is the Escalade,” Caldwell explained, echoing a sentiment oft expressed by TTAC readers. “It’s really the only old style model left.”

Fair enough. But I harbor the radical notion that brand extensions are inherently dangerous. For example, pickup trucks are for hauling manure and pulling stumps. A pickup truck is fundamentally and irrevocably incompatible with luxury. I view the Escalade EXT a perfect example of Cadillac’s ongoing inability to stay focused. To do one thing better than anyone in the world. To just say no.

“Cadillac should never make a pickup truck,” I challenged the guys. “It erodes the brand.”

Spinmeister Caldwell carefully considered my take on luxury and thoughtfully responded. “Cadillac doesn’t make a pickup truck.”

“Maybe not in PR speak,” I calmly replied, “But if you ask one thousand people on the street one thousand of them will say that the Escalade EXT is a pickup, not whatever non-truck euphemism you’ve invented for it.”

Sensing that our conversation had taken an abrupt left turn, Caddy’s seasoned mouthpiece changed tack. “Sometimes we make products on a short-term basis to satisfy a particular market demand,” Caldwell corrected.

His answer underlined– rather than explained– Caddy’s willingness to tarnish their brand identity and sacrifice long-term viability on the altar of short-term gain.

Today, a Cadillac can cost less than $40K or more than $100K. It can be a two-seat roadster, executive sedan, SUV or pickup truck. So how does Cadillac sell itself as a strong and concise brand when it spans so many prices and genres, when it means so many different things to so many potential customers?

“Modern sporty Cadillac’s are not incompatible with the Cadillac legacy. Cadillac engines were long used in race cars because they were the most powerful,” said Dean. Yeah, but that was before I was born.

“A Cadillac can be any kind of vehicle, even a minivan,” Dean continued, referring to the hydrogen fuel cell Provoq (pronounced “PROvoke”) Concept. “Just as long as they deliver a Cadillac experience.”

And what, pray tell, is that? “To me, Cadillac is about desirability and drama,” Caldwell answered, once again releasing the PR vapors. “Yes, a Cadillac is flamboyant,” Dean added. In other words, it’s like porn; you can’t define it, but you know it when you see it.

I left the show with mixed feelings about Cadillac’s future. The new CTS is one of the best cars Cadillac has built in my lifetime. In fact, while it's still not quite up to world-class standards, the model's attention to detail represents a new high water mark for the entire U.S. auto industry. Yet the definition of what constitutes a Cadillac remains dangerously nebulous.

Cadillac’s brand identity seems to be at the end of a pendulum that’s swung from pathologically recalcitrant in the ‘80s and ’90s, to schizophrenically indefinable today. To achieve brand health, Cadillac find one path. It must integrate its multiple personalities into a cohesive core identity while setting defining parameters wide enough to accommodate changing market conditions, a stringent regulatory environment and fickle public tastes. Until and unless it does, Cadillac’s current success will be a fleeting phenomenon.