Before a Hearing on G.M. Defects, Document Points to an Inconsistency, other documents point to lies.

The NY Times is in belligerent mood: Before a Hearing on G.M. Defects, Document Points to an Inconsistency.  Marquel, TPVs Times Correspondent, exudes tranquility and points to Mary Barra’s incompetence.

Marquel could hardly believe that a couple dozen or more people had been killed by GM cars with a defect about which both GM and the NTSB had full knowledge for a decade or more. And that the engineer who approved repairing the defective switch that caused all the deaths had sworn he had nothing to do with it.

Marquel took one more tedious trip to Detroit, where tedium lies towards the upper levels of what passes for entertainment there.

The engineer still works for GM and was happy to talk to me. “So you did or you didn’t repair that switch?” I asked.

“No.” He said simply, which is always a problem in answer to a disjunctive question. I made a mental note to brush up on my interviewing skills.

“Well,” I continued, “did you have anything to do with that switch?”

“Yes…” He paused, but I paused too. It was a contest to see who could pause the longest, but with my mental note still fresh in my rapidly aging mind, there was no way I was saying anything. Victory was at hand when I saw his throat shudder, “I apparently approved the redesign. But I have no recollection of doing so.”

“Do you think someone else might have signed your name to it?” I wondered.

“Anything’s possible,” he said. “But I’m not accusing anyone.”

“If you were accusing someone,” I began, cagily and proud of my refreshed interviewing skills, “who would that be?”

“There’s no way of knowing. I suppose whoever actually did the redesign would know who he took it to. That’s where I’d start, at least.” He looked at me like a hamster in a cage. I felt like throwing him some lettuce or whatever it is you throw at hamsters.

“So who did it and has anybody asked him the circumstances?” I asked.

“We don’t know who did it. Someone did it and my name approved it. I don’t remember anything about it.” He looked at me with open palms. He reminded me of a homeless man more than a hamster. Maybe a homeless hamster. I felt like giving him a dollar under my recently adopted be-kind-to-the-homeless resolution.

“Tell me something,” I inquired, “what is your position here?”

“I am the chief switch engineer.” He said matter of factly.

“You’re kidding” I said. But he nodded. “I didn’t know there was such a thing. Did you major in switches at engineering school?”

“No,” he answered, “it’s a branch of both electrical and mechanical engineering. You get it by working in the field.”

“So you’re in charge of all switches or just certain types?” I asked.

“All switches of any type,” he said.

“Hmmm” was all I could say. A switch engineer! Who’d a thunk it? “So you’re in charge of the switch that makes the windshield wiper go faster and slower?” He nodded. I detected some pride. Time to pop that balloon. “And the switch that makes the back windshield wiper go on hatchbacks? And the switch that heats the front window? And the totally different switch for the back window?” He was beaming. A beaming homeless hamster man. “Why the fuck can’t you put them all together? And why are they in totally different places in every car? Don’t they teach switch engineers anything about standardization?” I was truly angry now that we’d entered my pet peeve.

“That’s design. I just do the switches. The designers decide how many and where.” He looked sad.

“”So you’d like to be a designer?” He nodded. I could see I wasn’t going to find my murderer in this interview. Chief switch engineer or not, this guy was just a drone. “But doesn’t it make you mad when you can’t figure out how to turn on the lights in a rental car?”

He said, “I don’t drive.”

“What do you mean you don’t drive?” I asked.

“Simple,” he answered, “no license. I could never pass the test. Too nervous. Every time.”

I was going to ask him how many times but even I have a conscience. I folded a single into his hand and left. I went back to New York where the homeless aren’t a bit nervous.

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For more GM defects go to @MarquelatTPV. For more defects, go to @ThePotholeView