THE LAST CHANCE

The 1970s had been a disaster for British Leyland but sweeping – and unpopular – reorganisation saved it from the abyss (for the next two decades, at least). To understand the context in which it was born, however, requires an understanding of the chaos that prompted the eventual righting of the ship.

Consolidation to bolster Britain’s industrial base was the aim of the game in the previous decade.

Lumping former competitors into one conglomerate (1968’s British Leyland Motor Corporation) created an incredible amount of resentment and tension within the workforce; enmity which had grown since the Nuffield Group and Austin merger in 1952, when line workers within Morris at Cowley and Austin of Longbridge continued to act as if they were separate entities.

From the ground up, BLMC was on a hiding to nothing. It had inherited an incredible amount of excess capacity, staffed by a workforce which, marshalled by weak and ineffective management, grew increasingly militant and unmotivated. The car business alone marshalled a huge number of disparate plants (and component suppliers) across the Midlands, all with a singular sense of pride and differing work ethics; when BLMC emerged in 1968, 13 trade unions represented 180,000 shop floor staff, with a further five unions acting on behalf of 45,000 white-collar workers. What’s more, the new company produced cars that were in direct competition with one another.

Losses mounted to the point in 1974 where BL’s financial backers were convinced that bankruptcy was imminent; the incumbent Labour government, keen to avoid mass unemployment in the Midlands, intervened, prompted by talks between BL’s chairman, Donald Stokes, and Tony Benn MP, former industry minister and trade union advocate. With the bankers in tow, the state would shore up BLMC’s disintegrating finances, and finance a new wave of models, in return for a majority stake of the operation. The National Enterprise Board was asked to evaluate BLMC’s prospects and recommend strategy;