litigation ate up what was left of Ford’s cash cushion, Nasser’s spending began to look downright reckless. Even the Ford Motor Credit Company—long a reliable source of revenue for the parent company—had started to drift. In 1999, Nasser hired a hotshot banker, Don Winkler, to lead the finance company. Winkler thought the business of providing car and truck loans to creditworthy consumers was boring and vowed to turn Ford Credit into “a global auto-finance superpower.” Underwriting got fast and loose, and the number of bad loans on the company’s books began to increase at an alarming rate.
Bill Ford was no longer the only board member who was worried. When he called Hockaday again, the Hallmark chief agreed the time had come for Ford to share his concerns with the rest of the board. But Hockaday wanted to make sure the young chairman was ready.He offered to round up a couple of other sympathetic directors for a dress rehearsal.
“Don’t take me up on this offer unless you really have your facts straight,” Hockaday advised Ford. “Because if you come in with a sort of half-baked emotional presentation, you’re going to do yourself more harm than good.”
“Fair enough,” Ford said.
But he was worried someone might learn of the meeting. Ford had reason to be paranoid. At least one of Nasser’s predecessors had tapped Ford’s telephone and bugged his car to make sure he was not plotting a coup. Hockaday offered to host the meeting at Hallmark’s headquarters in Kansas City, Missouri. He even sent the Hallmark jet for Bill so the trip would not appear on the logbook of any Ford aircraft.
When Ford arrived, he found Carl Reichardt and Robert Rubin waiting for him. Reichardt was the retired head of Wells Fargo; Rubin had been Bill Clinton’s Treasury secretary. Both were directors Hockaday trusted—not only to keep quiet, but also to give an honest assessment of Ford’s presentation.
All three were stunned by what Bill Ford shared with them. He outlined all of the ways in which Nasser was damaging the company’s core business and offered plenty of facts and figures to support his claims. The other directors were deeply impressed that Ford had been able to collect so much data, especially since Nasser had refused to turn over key reports and other documents he had requested. They promised to put the matter on the agenda for the next board meeting.
In July 2001, Ford made his case to the full board in Dearborn. After hearing him out, the other directors asked Ford to leave and called in Nasser.
“You’ve got an issue here,” the board told him. “There are concerns that Bill has and has expressed to some of us, and we think that they are legitimate. We recognize that you’re the CEO, but these are concerns you shouldn’t ignore.”
Nasser remained stoic and offered no defense. The directors called Ford back into the boardroom and addressed both men together.
“You guys need to get your act together, because if you don’t, thenthe board’s going to have to step in and resolve the issue,” the directors warned them. “It would be better if you could work together to define your roles in a complementary way and leverage your strengths. You better give that a real hard try.”
The board granted Bill Ford more authority over the day-to-day running of the business, but Nasser refused to take his concerns seriously. The automaker’s finances continued to deteriorate, as did morale. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, delivered a devastating blow to the U.S. economy in general and American automakers in particular. The decline in new vehicle sales that followed made Ford’s problems that much worse. The dealers were getting angrier by the month. The board agreed that Nasser had to go. The only question now was who would replace him.
In early October, the heirs of Henry Ford gathered to discuss the future of the company. Bill Ford stood before them and delivered a blunt assessment