Ford Taurus air conditioner compressor

Single-shuttle-piston compressor design — two cylinders, one piston, sub-thousandth clearance. Engineers specified prototype fixturing; the machinist silently used a different fixture because he knew the engineer's design wouldn't hold tolerance. Prototype worked; Ford built a $100M production line to the original (bad) fixture spec; production parts didn't fit. Tom personally affected — bought a Taurus in February, no working A/C until June, dealer had no compressors because all new ones went to assembly. Moral: communicate with hourly workers.

Other examples of screw-ups that have happened because engineers don't talk to mechanics. About twenty years ago, Ford came up with a new air conditioner compressor for the Ford Taurus. A very clever design — a single piston that shuttled back and forth and acted as two pistons. You had two cylinders but a single piston: compressing one side while sucking in on the other, then compressing the other while sucking in on this side. To make it work, there were very precise machining tolerances — a fraction of a thousandth of an inch on the clearance. The engineers at Ford had conceived a less-expensive compressor design, fewer moving parts but greater precision in assembly.

Tom bought a Ford Taurus in February 1990; air conditioner didn't work when he tried it in May. Source of the story is Kim Clark (later Harvard Business School dean). Ford had spent $100M tooling a production line based on engineer-designed fixturing for a tight-tolerance compressor piston, but the prototype machinist had ignored the prescribed fixturing and used his own method; production line couldn't replicate the prototype's results. Tom got his car fixed in three weeks after threatening lemon-law action.

I've got another story on that. In 1990 I bought a Ford Taurus. I bought it in February. In May I turned on the air conditioner — no air conditioning. So I took it back to the Ford dealership and they said, we don't have the part. And I said, well, then give me a new car, it's under warranty. And they said, well, we can't do that. I said, well then you better figure out what to do, because you've got a problem. I'm not going to go through the summer while you tell me I don't have an air conditioner. I'll take a new car. You want me to go lemon-law? I'll bring it in three times in a week, and if you don't have it fixed by the end of that week I can go lemon-law and you'll give me a new car. So they decided that maybe they could do something. Plus I told them I knew a few vice presidents at Ford, which I did actually.

Personal forensic case. Tom bought a 1990 or 1991 Taurus in February; the AC failed when first switched on in May. Ford's $100M production line had been built with clamping fixtures matching the engineering drawings, but the prototype machinist had built his own (correct) clamping fixture and never told the engineers. The as-built of the prototype was lost. Tom invokes the Massachusetts lemon law and his Ford VP connections to get a replacement AC. Used to illustrate prototype-to-production handoff failure. The Harvard Business School story attribution is preserved.

The Hyatt Regency as-built was not like the as-designed, and there was all kinds of finger-pointing. Another story out of automotive that I ran into: in '90 or '91 I bought a Ford Taurus. I bought it in February. Never turn the air conditioner on in February for whatever reason. Come May, I turn the air conditioner on one day, doesn't work. Brand new car — well, not brand new anymore, four months old, but still under warranty. So I take it to the dealership, they said, oh we don't have the parts to fix it. Fine, give me a new vehicle, I don't care. Because under the Massachusetts lemon law, all I have to do is bring it in three times to have them fix it, and if they can't fix it within three days then I can get a brand new car.