By Peter Robison and James Gunsalus
Bloomberg
As talks on a pay deal for 802 Boeing Co. engineers soured in
November, union boss Charles Bofferding fired off an e-mail to
chief executive James McNerney, who was five months into the task
of righting the scandal-plagued planemaker. Did the negotiators’
take-it-or-leave-it approach fit McNerney’s vision for a
new Boeing? Bofferding wanted to know.
Bofferding got his answer
in days. When discussions resumed, he says he was startled by
the change in tone. He recalls one negotiator saying, “I
really want to hear what you have to say.”
In December, the sides
settled on a pay increase of at least 4 percent a year for the
Wichita, Kansas-based engineers, averting a walkout that would
have come on the heels of a month-long machinists’ strike
that had delayed $2 billion in orders.
In the year since he
has taken charge, McNerney, 56, has begun to chip away at the
issues that have threatened to destroy Boeing’s productivity
and reputation. He has a long way to go.
Boeing is trying to
build its first all-new jetliner in more than a decade, the 787
Dreamliner. A record 70 percent of the plane’s parts will
come from outside suppliers, an unprecedented test for a Boeing
production system that seized up when orders surged in the 1990s.
European rival Airbus
SAS, which in 2003 surpassed Boeing as the largest maker of airliners,
isn’t standing still. Airbus plans to spend $10 billion
on a competing plane that will try to leapfrog the 787, three
people with direct knowledge of the matter say.
And the knock-down,
drag-out battle with Airbus doesn’t take into account the
ongoing fight to restore Boeing’s luster. In May, Boeing
reached a tentative agreement with the US Justice Department to
pay as much as $615 million to settle federal charges related
to purchasing scandals.
“Expectations
are high here,” says Daniel Manion at Sentinel Asset Management.
“We are pretty positive, but we’re mindful of what
it’s going to take to pull it all off.”
Douglas debacle
McNerney, a protégé of retired General Electric Co. CEO Jack Welch
who also ran 3M Co., arrived when Boeing was reeling from the worst scandals,
infighting and missteps in its 90-year history.
Legislators and workers fretted publicly
that Boeing had lost its moral compass. US Sen. John McCain, a Republican, called
the second-largest defense contractor’s dealings with the Pentagon “sleazy”
in a 2003 speech.
Boeing’s 1997 acquisition of
McDonnell Douglas Corp. set the tone for its turbulent decade, says Gordon Bethune,
former CEO of Continental Airlines Inc. and a Boeing vice president from 1988
to 1994.
The $16-billion purchase was meant
to be a coronation as Boeing swallowed its last American plane-making rival.
Instead, it exposed Boeing to distractions as everyone from executives to plant
managers jockeyed for status in the combined company while a win-at-all-costs
military-contracting culture prevailed, Bethune says.
“What screwed Boeing up was
the Douglas merger,” he says.
In 2003, the US Air Force found that
back in January 1997, before Boeing completed the purchase, McDonnell Douglas
had hired an engineer from Lockheed Martin Corp. when the two were competing
for a $3-billion rocket-launching contract. The engineer brought with him proprietary
Lockheed Martin documents, which he shared with at least two other employees,
according to a review commissioned by Boeing that former US Sen. Warren Rudman
led.
In October 1998, after Boeing had
won 19 of 28 Air Force launches and completed its acquisition, employees tipped
off Boeing’s legal officials about the documents. The Air Force stripped
Boeing of $1 billion of launches in July 2003.
That same year, Boeing CEO Philip
Condit quit, taking the blame for a disclosure that chief financial officer
Michael Sears had dangled a job to an Air Force official who was negotiating
a $23-billion contract with Boeing for aerial refueling planes. Sears and the
official, Darleen Druyun, went to jail. Congress killed the Air Force’s
plan to buy or lease 100 of the planes.
Adding to the indignities, the executive
that Boeing brought out of retirement to restore its reputation, former McDonnell
Douglas CEO Harry Stonecipher, left in 2005 after admitting an affair with a
female subordinate.
“We never thought in our wildest
dreams, growing up in Boeing, that we’d ever see the Boeing name in the
paper the way we saw it,” says Alan Mulally, who joined the company in
1969 and is now CEO of the commercial airplane unit.
Downward spiral
Amid the turmoil, France-based Airbus surpassed Boeing for leadership of the
$60-billion annual jetliner market in terms of deliveries—a position Boeing
forecasts it won’t recoup until 2008.
Throughout Boeing’s downward
spiral, some workers bristled at what they considered dictatorial management.
During a 40-day engineers’ strike in 2000, union members stood on picket
lines near a portable toilet labeled “Harry’s Office.”
“With Harry Stonecipher, it
was all about power-based interactions and intimidation,” says Bofferding,
executive director of the Society of Professional Engineering Employees in Aerospace,
which represents 22,000 workers at Boeing and other companies. “McNerney
is not a flamboyant, force-it-to-happen kind of guy. He’s the efficient,
help-it-to-happen-in-the-right-way sort.”
Still, McNerney has never taken on
a challenge quite as big as Boeing. When McNerney became CEO, Southwest Airlines
Co. chairman Herb Kelleher recalls telling him the job would test him like no
other.
“He’d done an excellent
job at 3M,” Kelleher says. “I thought that Boeing would give him
the opportunity to utilize the full amplitude of his cornucopia of talents.”
Investors are more comfortable with
McNerney at the controls, says Jim Bitter, an analyst at Wilmington Trust Corp.
And there are signs he’s making
progress. In March 2003, Boeing’s shares tumbled to as low as $25.55.
Since McNerney was named CEO on June 30, the stock has gained 35 percent to
$82.99 as of May 25, outpacing the 6-percent rise for the Standard & Poor’s
500 Index.
In April, Boeing reported that first-quarter
net income increased 29 percent to $692 million, or 88 cents a share, from $535
million, or 66 cents a share, a year earlier. Backlog, a measure of unfilled
orders that analysts say reflects future business, leapt to a record $213 billion,
up 42 percent from the year-earlier period.
“The thing the company has to
get right is the 787,” McNerney said in a telephone interview. “Executing
that program is our biggest opportunity and our biggest risk if we don’t
do it well.”
More impressive now
A Midwesterner who earned an American studies degree in 1971 at Yale University,
and then an MBA from Harvard Business School, McNerney knows the industry. In
his last job at GE as head of the $11.9 billion-a-year aircraft engines unit,
he supplied engines to both Boeing and Airbus. Later, he served on Boeing’s
board for four years en route to the planemaker’s top job.
“GE is first and foremost about
making the numbers, and McNerney is definitely of that school,” Bitter
says. “But managers like McNerney who come out of GE are not about doing
it in a crass, step-on-people kind of way. They make things happen but still
play nice in the sandbox.”
Airbus sales chief John Leahy, an
American who’s based in France, negotiated alongside McNerney for airline
deals at General Electric’s engine division and remembers him as one of
the best in that role. “Unfortunately, he’s more impressive now,”
Leahy says. “It’s a shame he’s running our major competition.”
Workers and investors say McNerney
has won their respect by starting with a few simple messages, some borrowed
from Welch’s playbook at GE and McNerney’s own tenure at 3M. He
says employees must focus on customers, and ethics must come first. To make
sure that happens, McNerney spends a lot of time evaluating Boeing’s leaders.
“It’s not as if this company
hasn’t thought about leadership before,” McNerney says. “The
thing I wanted to do differently is to have one definition of what leadership
is across the company and I wanted it to be fundamental.”
Of course, McNerney isn’t the
only catalyst for Boeing’s recent turnaround. He took over just as airline
profits began to recover from the 2001 recession and as Boeing started selling
its 787 Dreamliner.
Moreover, fixing the company isn’t
just about changing its culture. Part of Boeing’s trouble is that, for
all its years of sales leadership, it has never turned in financial results
to match. In the 25 years through 2005, Boeing’s operating profit as a
percentage of sales never exceeded 8.1 percent. GE got a 21.6-percent margin
from its aircraft engine division last year.
In April, Boeing forecast that companywide
margins would exceed 10 percent in 2007. “I don’t want to stop there,”
McNerney says.
Just as GE boosted profit by selling
maintenance and spares to engine customers, Boeing is targeting a bigger share
of the $60 billion-a-year market for airplane parts and services. Boeing’s
services revenue increased 9 percent last year, twice the 4.5-percent rate of
the aircraft division. On May 1, Boeing agreed to spend $1.7 billion for Aviall
Inc., a Dallas-based parts distributor. “Aviall is just the beginning,”
McNerney says.
Previous stumbles
Boeing has stumbled before when it looked unbeatable. In 1997, after clinching
exclusive supply contracts from AMR Corp.’s American Airlines, Delta Air
Lines Inc. and Continental, Boeing had its first loss in 50 years. It racked
up $2.6 billion in cost overruns when it tried to double production.
This past February, when an analyst
asked McNerney at a Cowen & Co. conference in New York if anything keeps
him up at night amid the rosy outlook for orders, he replied, “Maybe it
is the outlook.”
He says Boeing’s task is easier
this time because the production ramp-up is more gradual; Boeing expects to
boost deliveries by about 50 percent to as many as 445 planes in the three years
through 2007.
Weber says Boeing’s engineering
workforce may not be able to deliver everything it has promised on time. “They
come from a long period of internal stagnation,” he says. “If there’s
anything that can really trip Boeing up, it’s the ability to work these
challenging products at a quick pace. Not that it would be fatal, but it would
be very costly.”
Boeing’s stumbles in the past
10 years have come as such a surprise partly because of the company’s
long history of success. Founded by Bill Boeing, who built his first wooden
seaplanes on Seattle’s Lake Union in 1916, Boeing became a staple of business
books.
Jim Collins and Jerry Porras extolled
Boeing in their best-selling Built to Last (HarperBusiness, 1994). They said
Boeing was able to bet the company again and again and win with new aircraft—from
the B-17 Flying Fortress bomber to the 747 jumbo jet.
Condit’s 1997 acquisition of
McDonnell Douglas changed Boeing’s psyche. The purchase added such military
businesses as the C-17 transport, propping up profits during the slump in airline
purchases that followed the 2001 terrorist attacks.
Condit moved Boeing’s headquarters
to Chicago in 2001—partly, he said, because Seattle was too parochial
for the broad-based aerospace company he was creating. Yet instead of forcefully
establishing a single culture, Condit agreed to share Boeing’s top job
with McDonnell Douglas’s Stonecipher.
Bethune, then Continental CEO, says
he told Condit at the time that the move was a mistake. “That’s
a culture that was foreign to Boeing,” Bethune says. “You look at
the issues, they’re all Douglas people.”
When Condit quit in 2003, Boeing first
sought out McNerney, who turned the offer down, according to accounts by both
him and the company. McNerney’s record at GE and 3M had made him a highly
regarded executive, says New York headhunter Gerard Roche, senior chairman of
Heidrick & Struggles International Inc.
Roche says he regularly fields calls
from board members seeking a “McNerney type.” The 3M chief changed
his mind about the Boeing job two years later, after Stonecipher resigned.
Giant plane skeletons
At Boeing, McNerney has had to be more heavy-handed. He set the tone in January
at the annual management retreat.
On the first day, at a hotel in Orlando,
Florida, McNerney challenged executives to stop “hiding in the bureaucracy.”
The next day, he had general counsel Douglas Bain address the elephant in the
room: ethics.
Many in Washington were convinced
the company’s culture was broken beyond repair, Bain said. He displayed
numbers on a screen. “These are not ZIP codes,” he said, telling
the managers they were looking at the federal prison numbers of Sears and Druyun.
“It was just sobering,”
says Mulally, who was in the audience. “You have to make ethics just as
serious as the business plan, as serious as performing on a program. I think
that can be one of the lasting contributions he makes.”
In January, McNerney dropped the capitalized
phrase “world headquarters” from Boeing’s building in Chicago
and its web site, explaining that he preferred the less grandiose “corporate
offices.”
In March, he rewrote the pay rules
for managers, tying more of their bonuses to profits instead of the stock price.
Managers must also submit to performance reviews by subordinates, who will rate
them on how well they “inspire others” and “reflect Boeing
values.”
McNerney makes no bones about the
consequences for people who don’t pass muster. “If certain people
are only able to measure up well on ‘delivers results,’ they will
soon find they have no future at Boeing,” he said at a conference in La
Jolla, California, last April.
Some executives Boeing passed over
for McNerney’s job are buying into what he’s doing. Mulally is in
charge of a companywide cost-cutting initiative called Lean Plus.
The jetliner chief had already reduced
jobs in his unit by half and shuttered Seattle-area factories. Now he’s
driving home the need for productivity gains of at least 3 percent to 5 percent
each year.
Boeing closed its books in five days
after the first quarter, down from 20 in previous quarters, and channeled spending
into areas where it’s likely to get the biggest returns. For instance,
Mulally has scaled back research into planes seating fewer than 100 people,
which Boeing doesn’t make.
Defense unit chief James Albaugh,
another CEO candidate, leads an effort to eliminate duplication and get better
prices on everything from titanium to paper in Boeing’s $4.2-billion annual
procurement budget.
It’s hard to miss Boeing’s
new spirit in a visit to the 737 jetliner plant in Renton. In the 1990s, this
factory was at the center of the production overruns responsible for Boeing’s
first annual loss in 50 years.
Back then, workers openly grumbled
about chaos on the assembly lines. Under Mulally, the plant has sped up production.
Instead of sitting in one place, the giant skeletons of planes move forward
on a track at 2 inches per minute. Everything from tool bins to garbage cans
is on wheels. Engineers and managers watch the line from three stories of offices
above. Giant plasma TVs show the status of each job.
Every 50 yards or so, technicians
cluster around a “pit boss” sitting at a bank of computer screens.
When a mechanic encounters a snafu, the screen flashes yellow. Unless the pit
boss gets a response plan from an engineer within 30 minutes, the line will
stop.
One day in February, pit boss Al Warren
sees a yellow flash from a mechanic who is missing a part. He alerts a parts
purchaser and clears the issue within minutes.
Warren, 57, a 26-year company veteran,
laughs when he’s asked how long it might have taken in the 1990s to resolve
a similar problem. “Weeks, probably,” he says. “Lots of furor,
smoke and mirrors. It’s amazing what’s been accomplished.”
The unpredictable
Since 1997, Boeing has trimmed the average time to build each 737 in half, to
11 days from 22. With the 787, it aims to assemble each in three days. Profit
margins in the unit climbed to 10 percent in the first quarter from 8.2 percent
a year earlier.
Now comes the hard part for Boeing,
which needs to deliver its promised orders and produce the 787 without letting
costs soar. A leaner Boeing that buys most of its parts depends on its suppliers.
Keeping them in line may be a challenge.
“The unpredictable is what you
have to be mindful of,” says Michael Bair, who heads the 787 program.
Bair got one surprise in April, when
a supplier near Seattle was making a mold to form part of the 787’s fuselage.
Unlike aluminum planes, the 787 is created from strips of carbon fiber and resin
that are cured in an oven to form a solid piece.
The supplier inadvertently left a
wooden stool in the oven, Bair says. “Let’s say we had a campfire,”
he says. “We found a way to recover, but it wasn’t the plan.”
Corralling far-flung parts makers,
meeting promises for the 787 and delivering GE-style financial results all figure
into McNerney’s strategy, a massive agenda given Boeing’s history.
So far, investors and employees give him a shot at pulling it off. “I
haven’t heard anything bad about him,” says Bofferding, the engineering
union leader.
As Boeing moves to distance itself
from its scandals, that’s a good start.
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