Karl Slym has barely sunk into a large armchair in the discreet stillness of the bar at the posh Trident Hotel, near Delhi, when a hotel employee fusses about, trying to make him more comfortable than he already is.
Except, I don’t think that’s really possible.
The 46-year-old is probably the most at-ease managing director I have met.
For someone who has been in India for only five months, the British chief of General Motors (GM) India seems quite at home. And as if on cue, he orders a Kingfisher beer, tells me he’s seen OSO (Om Shanti Om), asks me what I like about Jaipur and whether I remember the song that goes Dhan-dhana-dhan. Since I haven’t seen OSO, can’t recall much about my school trips to Jaipur and have no clue about Dhan-dhana-dhan, I’m at a loss for words.
Slym isn’t. He can even say “theek hai” (it’s okay), but with a slight mid-England accent. Relieved that I can claim a victory over at least his Hindi, pronunciation and all, I’m impatient to find out how he got to where he is today.
On a roll: The travelling manager is a mean hand on the drums and a karaoke mike. (Jayachandran / Mint)
Born in Derby to a family that worked mostly with the railways, Slym went to the local school and paid for his college fees in part by designing press tools for machine parts. But five years into that, he got bored with the job and instead became a trailer designer and manager.
And that, at age 26, was his breakthrough moment. “That gave me the opportunity to do everything from design to development and from business to finance—it was a really nice opportunity to do something that widened my horizons although it was a small company,” says Slym.
Three years into that, and Toyota Motors came to Derby to set up a car manufacturing plant. Slym was picked to join as senior manager. Toyota, eager to train all its senior recruits in the Toyota Way—a management philosophy that includes the famed Toyota Production System—flew its hand-picked staff to Japan for training. Slym marks that trip as the longest period he had been away from his wife Sally.
In typical Toyota fashion, for the first four weeks of that training, Slym was moored to the assembly line, sticking parts into cars every 57 seconds as a vehicle rolled into place. “I just thought, ‘What are they doing to me? I was a senior manager, and here I am putting parts into cars—every single day.’ Then, after the initial days of shock, horror and fright, you realized the worth of that experience—providing real understanding from the ground up.”
At the end of the four-week period he was appointed group leader, and returned to Derby, prepared by his training. He hired staff for the plant and got it up and running. Even today, the Toyota plant at Derby is one of the biggest employers in the area.
At this point, I can’t but help wonder aloud whether Toyota, assembly line robotics and all, wasn’t his biggest career break, and not the trailer job.