Wheels (51 page)

"Pretty packed living room," one of the students said.
Brett laughed. Like everything else here, the courtyard was too small, the
students elbowing for space too many. Yet for all the congestion, only the
truly talented were admitted to the school, and only the best survived the
grueling three-year course.
The exchange of talk-a reason why Brett had come--went on.
Inevitably, air pollution was on the minds of students; even in this
courtyard there was no escaping it. The sun, which should have been shining brightly from an azure sky, instead filtered dully through the thick
gray haze extending from the ground to high above. Here, too, eye and nose
irritation were constant and Brett remembered a recent U. S. Public Health
warning that breathing New York's polluted air was equal to smoking a pack
of cigarettes a day; thus non
-smokers inno
cently shared a smoker's probability of death from cancer. He presumed the
same was true of Los Angeles, perhaps even more so.
On the subject of pollution, Brett urged, "Tell me what you characters
think
.”

A decade from now students like these would be helping shape
industry policy.
"One thing you figure when you live here," a voice from the rear
injected, "is something has to give. If we go on the way things are, one
day everybody in this town will choke to death
.”

Brett pointed out, "Los Angeles is special. Smog is worse because of
geography, temperature inversion, and a lot of sunlight
.”

"Not so special," someone else put in. "Have you been in San Francisco
lately
.”

"Or New York
.”

"Or Chicago
.”

"Or Toronto
.”

"Or even little country towns on market days
.”

Brett called across the chorus, "Hey
!
If you feel that way, maybe some
of you are headed for the wrong business. Why design cars at all
.”

"Because we're nutty about cars. Love 'em
!
Doesn't stop us thinking,
though. Or knowing what's going on, and caring
.”

The speaker was a
gangling young man with untidy blond hair, at the forefront of the
group. He put a hand through his hair, revealing the long slender
fingers of an artist.
"To hear a lot of people out West, and other places"-Brett was playing
devil's advocate"
you'd think the only future is in mass transportation
.”

., That old chestnut
!
"
"No one really wants to use mass transport," one of the few girls in the
group declared. "Not if a car's practical and they can afford it.
Besides,
mass transit's a delusion. With subsidies, taxes, and fares, public
transport delivers a lot less than automobiles for more money. So everybody
gets taken. Ask New Yorkers! Soon-ask San Franciscans
.”

Brett smiled. "They'll love you in Detroit
.”

The girl shook her head impatiently. "I'm not saying it because of that
.”

"Okay," Brett told the others, 'let's agree that cars will be the main
form of transportation for another half century, probably a lot longer.
What kind of cars
.”

"Better," a quiet voice said. "A lot better than now. And fewer
.”

"Not much argument about being better, though the question's always: Which
way? I'm interested, though, in how you figure fewer
.”

"Because we ought to think that way, Mr. DeLosanto. That's if we take the
long view, which is for our own good in the end
.”

Brett looked curiously at the latest speaker who now stepped forward,
others near the front easing aside to make room. He, too, was young, but
short, swarthy, with the beginning of a pot belly and, on the surface,
appearing anything but an intellectual. But his soft voice was compelling
and others fell silent as if a spokesman had moved in.
"We have a good many rap sessions here," the swarthy student said. "Those
of us taking Transportation Design want to be a part of the auto industry.
We're excited by the idea. Cars turn us on. But it doesn't mean that any
one of us is headed for Detroit wearing blinders
.”

"Let's hear the rest of it," Brett urged. "Keep talking
.”

Coming back,
listening to forthright student views again-views unencumbered by defeats,
disillusion, too much knowledge of practicalities or financial
limitations-was an emotional
experience like having personal batteries charged.
"A thing about the auto industry nowadays,"
the swarthy student said, "is it's tuned
in to responsibility. Sometimes the critics won't admit it,
but it has. There's a new feeling. Air
pollution,
safety, quality, all those things aren't just talking
subjects any more. Something's being done, this
time for real
.”

The others were still quiet. Several more students had joined the group;
Brett guessed they were from other courses. Though a dozen art specialties beside automotive design were taught here, the subject of cars
always evoked general interest within the school,
'Well," the same student continued, "the auto industry has some other
responsibilities too. One of them is numbers
.”

It was curious, Brett thought, that at the airport earlier he had been
thinking about numbers himself.
"It's the numbers that eat us up," the soft
-
voiced, swarthy student said.
"h
ey undo every effort the car people make. Take safety. Safer cars are
engineered and built, so what happens? More get on the road; accidents
go up, not down. With air pollution it's the same. Cars being made right
now have the best engines ever, and they pollute less than any engine
ever did before. There are even cleaner ones ahead. Right
.”

Brett nodded. "Right
.”

"But the numbers keep going up. We're bragging now about producing ten
million new cars a year, so no matter how good anybody gets at emission
control, the total pollution gets worse. It's wild I"
"Supposing all that's true, what's the alternative? To ration cars
.”

Someone said, "Why not
.”

"Let me ask you something, Mr. DeLosanto,"
the swarthy student said. "y
ou ever been in Bermuda
.”

Brett shook his head.
"It's an island of twenty-one square miles. To make sure they keep room
to move around, the Bermuda g
overnment does ration cars. First they
limit engine capacity, body length and width. Then they allow only one
car for every household
.”

A voice among the newcomers objected, "Nuts to that
.”

"I'm not saying we should be that strict," the original speaker
persisted. "I'm simply saying we ought to draw a line somewhere. And it
isn't as if the auto industry couldn't stay healthy producing ,
the same
number of cars it does now, or that people couldn't manage. They manage
in Bermuda fine
.”

. If you tried it here," Brett said, "you might have a new American
Revolution. Besides, not being able to sell as many cars as people want
to buy is an attack on free enterprise
.”

He grinned, offsetting his own
words. "It's heresy
.”

In Detroit, he knew, many would view the idea as heretical. But he
wondered: Was it really? How much longer could the auto industry, at
home and overseas, produce vehicles-with whatever kind of power plant-in
continually increasing quantity? Wouldn't someone, somewhere, somehow,
have to rule, as Bermuda had done: Enough! Wasn't the day approaching
when a measure of contro
l of numbers would become essen
tial for the
common good? Taxis were limited in number everywhere; so, to an extent,
were trucks. Why not private cars? And if it didn't happen, North
America could consist eventually of one big traffic jam; at times it was
close to that already. Therefore, wouldn't auto industry leaders be
wiser, more farsighted and responsible, if they took an initiative in
self-restraint themselves?
But he doubted if they would.
A fresh voice cut in, "Not all of us feel the way Harvey does. Some
think there's room for lots more cars yet
.”

"And we figure to design a few
.”

"Damn right
.”

"Sorry, Harv! The world's not ready for you
.”

But there were several murmurs of dissent, and it was obvious that the
swarthy student, Harvey, had a following.
The lanky blond youth who had declared earlier, "We're nutty about
cars," called, "Tell us about the Orion
.”

"Get me a pad," Brett said. "I'll show you
.”

Someone passed one, and heads craned over while he sketched. He drew the
Orion swiftly in profile and head-on view, knowing the lines of the car
the way a sculptor knows a carving he has toiled on. There were
appreciative "wows," and really great
.”

Questions followed. Brett answered frankly. When possible, design
students were fed these privileged tidbits, like heady bait, to keep
their interest high. However, Brett was careful to fold and pocket his
drawings afterward.
As students drifted back to classes, the courtyard session broke up. For
the remainder of his time at the Art Center College of Design-through
the same day and the next-Brett delivered a formal lecture, interviewed
automotive design students individually, and critically appraised
experimental car models which student teams had designed and built.
An instinct among this crop of students, Brett discovered, was toward
severity of design, allied with function and utility. Curiously, it had
been a similar combination of ideas agreed to by Brett, Adam Trenton,
Elroy Braithwaite and the others, on the memorable night, two and a half
months earlier, when the initial concept for Farstar had emerged. Through
the time he had already spent on early Farstar designs, still being labored
over in a closely guarded studio at Detroit, and now here, Brett was struck
by the aptness of Adam's phrase: Ugly is Beautifull
History showed that artistic trends-the latticework of all commercial
designing
always began subtly and often when least expected. No one knew
why artistic tastes changed, or how, or when the next development would
come; it seemed simply that human virtuosity and perception were restless,
ready to move on. Observing the students' work now-ignoring a degree of
nalvet6 and imperfection-and remembering his own designs of recent months,
Brett felt an exhilaration at being part of an obviously fresh, emerging
trend.
Some of his enthusiasm, it seemed, transmitted itself to students whom he
interviewed during his second day at the school. Following the interviews,
Brett decided to recommend two potential graduates to the company
Personnel and Organization staff for eventual hiring. One was the short,
swarthy student, Harvey, who had argued forcefully in the courtyard; his
design portfolio showed an ability and imagination well above average.
Whichever auto company he worked for, Harvey was probably headed for
trouble and collisions in Detroit. He was an original thinker, a maverick
who would not be silenced, or dissuaded easily from strong opinions.
Fortunately, while not always heeding mavericks, the auto industry
encouraged them, knowing their value as a hedge against complacent
thinking.
Whatever happened, Brett suspected, Detroit and Harvey would find each
other interesting.
The other candidate he chose was the gangling youth with untidy blond hair
whose talent,
too, was obviously large. Brett's suggestion of future employment, so the
student said, was the second approach made to him, Another auto firm among
the Big Three had already promised him a design job, if he wanted it, on
graduation.
"But if there's any chance of working near you, Mr. DeLosanto," the
young man said, "I'll go with your company for sure
.”