[Chapter 874: The Decline of the Golden Age]
Detroit, the Motor City, had been a symbol of the automotive industry for over a century. Once one of the largest cities in America, it was home to the nation's first paved road, first traffic light, first freeway, and first department store. All these firsts had taken place here.
The headquarters of America's Big Three automakers - General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler - were located in Detroit.
But in recent decades, Detroit had fallen on hard times. High unemployment, rampant crime, and a severe financial crisis had led to a sharp decline in real estate.
Forget about the state of the auto industry; just seeing the disruptive young men wandering the streets was enough to frighten anyone. The demographics of Detroit made even the locals wary, let alone people from other backgrounds. The city was plagued by muggings and welfare dependency, with one of the highest murder rates in the nation; it was impossible not to be fearful.
Sure, the demographic issues were a part of the problem, but the real driving force behind the city's decay was the auto union.
The United Auto Workers had transformed into a quasi-public organization, no longer a grassroots movement of workers but a political and economic interest group manipulated by elites. These elites had deep connections with organized crime. To achieve their goals, they often resorted to extreme measures--threats, hired assassins, and even tossing dead fish into media offices.
Moreover, there were reports circulating that President Kennedy had been assassinated because he opposed the union's ties to organized crime, leading to a conspiracy between the two sides to eliminate him.
The authenticity of such claims was dubious, and William White didn't believe they had the capacity for such an act. However, many Americans did. This was indicative of how, in the eyes of many, the auto union had morphed into a monstrous entity.
From 1995 to 2015, the automotive industry around the globe was booming. Even disregarding Japan and China, the development of the auto sector was thriving.
William White understood how troublesome these guys could be; he had been trying to stay under the radar. Surprisingly, this group of not-so-bright individuals had begun to swell again.
"Kid, we've cleaned it up, nice and neat," one aide reported.
"Okay, Tanner, have I been a bit too timid these years, letting some folks entertain thoughts they shouldn't?" William mused.
"Cough, cough, well, they're actually quite chaotic internally. It's been like a revolving door recently," the aide replied.
William was taken aback. In his view, the auto union was supposed to represent the Democrats' core base. If they lost that group's support, they would be doomed.
"Tanner, you're suggesting that the Democrats don't really have any control?" he probed.
"Yes, in fact, some are against the big shots, but the costs are too high to oppose them, so they just ignore it," the aide shared.
"Hmm, good. If anyone starts waving a flag, we'll be sure to knock them down first."
A storm was brewing in Detroit, but only those involved truly grasped its severity. To the bystanders, it seemed like merely a routine gang rivalry.
Such circumstances weren't rare in Detroit; if there weren't a couple of skirmishes each year, how could one even call it the crime capital?
Yet for Albert, things were starkly different. The once-reverential gazes now vanished overnight, replaced by indifference and disdain.
"Go ahead and keep acting like that; I'll be waiting for your downfall," he thought.
Albert was at a loss--this wasn't just a show; it was part of a massive conspiracy.
Recognizing people was hard, but recognizing oneself was even harder. Albert struggled to understand his own identity.
Against someone as insignificant as him, no one would bother with schemes. The big players were openly supporting him while hardly hiding their disdain.
Albert had never considered that being overly praised could lead to his downfall. If a reversal were to happen, it would surely be catastrophic. What had he done to deserve this?
He sadly realized that the media landscape in America had turned against him. Not just William White's firms, but even News Corp and Post Group had frozen him out.
He was merely a politician; who would go to bat for him over someone as influential as William White? Even if there were conflicts among those media outlets, they wouldn't come to his aid.
No one was foolish; the situation had devolved into a personal feud, and the spectators should really keep their mouths shut; one slip-up could easily backfire on them.
Albert had miscalculated one thing: America's Big Three automakers certainly looked down on Tesla, but they looked down on him even more.
If it weren't for these so-called elites stirring up trouble, the Big Three wouldn't be in such dire straits. What was just-in-time manufacturing but a game the guys had already left?
Toyota took that model and dominated the globe; there was no way General Motors wouldn't be fuming. Even Tesla was poaching talent from them, right?
Everyone knew this concept could cut costs and ramp up production. What did he, as a pioneer, not understand?
But that was as far as the thought went; the old hands in the union didn't want to work and vehemently resisted any reforms. Any potential increase in labor intensity was met with ruthless rejection.
What they accepted was only raises and increased benefits.
The American auto workers' union now resembled a belligerent third party. The formerly healthy mechanism of coordination had devolved into its current dysfunctional state.
The relationship between workers and bosses had never been harmonious. The union was initially established to find common ground. Generally, workers were the weaker party, lacking time and financial resources to argue with the capitalists.
If they were oppressed excessively, fierce resistance would arise. Coordinating through a union was a decent idea. The bosses wanted to make money, but no one intended on demolishing the workforce.
Unfortunately, the initial intent no longer mattered. Now, it wasn't about whether the workers or the bosses were more powerful; it was about everyone having to listen to the union.
Wasn't that absurd?
If they knew how to run a business, shouldn't the union leaders be able to do it themselves instead of wading through such murky waters?
"How's it going, Andy? Any thoughts?"
Seeing the dismayed expression on Andy's face, the head of Morgan Stanley had practically given up. Recently, the auto union had seemed to quiet down; perhaps there was a chance for improvement.
"Sir, it's terrible. NBC has puffed Albert up so much; it's downright shady."
"I've been aware of the shady goings-on. How could a city with over 20% unemployment be anything but a disaster? What I need to know is how bad it actually is."
"Sir, it's bad. Without those security guys, I wouldn't even dare go out during the day.
Sir, it isn't a city; it's more like a war zone. The wealthy have either left or retreated to the outskirts. The central area now has trees growing up through the concrete roads."
"Cough, cough, it can't be that outrageous?"
The Morgan Stanley head didn't want to pursue the topic further; he knew his employee wouldn't lie to him. The continual talk about how dire Detroit's situation was made it clear; this wasn't just a routine downturn.
It was laughable, thinking William White would invest in a place like this.
It was like asking someone to sign their own death warrant. The old man didn't realize that in William White's eyes, if he had to pick the worst spot to open a factory, he would rather go to Somalia.
*****
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