The reluctant tycoon
The Economic Times - November 10, 1996

Gita Piramal takes a look at Ratan Tata, up close and personal, to discover a
self-effacing chief executive behind India's premier industrial empire

The flight attendants of Indian Airlines once got together to choose their favourite executive passenger. The awardee of the unofficial 1992 poll was not Rahul Bajaj or the jocular Dhirubhai Ambani or even the courteous half-Frenchy JRD but Ratan Tata. When flying Indian Airlines, Ratan uses the VIP seats but generally has no personal assistants or other staff accompanying him. Most of the time he buries his head in paper work. He doesn't bother about food but has coffee, strong, brewed directly with the milk and without sugar. 'Though even if it is not served as he likes it, he doesn't complain,' said an airhostess.

The crews serving the Bombay-Delhi sector have ample opportunity to notice Ratan's little habits. It's the route Ratan flies most frequently, though not by choice. An experienced pilot, a love for flying was one of the few common bonds between JRD and Ratan. If he could, the easy-to please executive would far rather take the controls of one of the group's many private aircraft and take off for Pune or any of the group's plants around the country. Instead Ratan has to travel often to Delhi…

There had been coolness between Indira Gandhi and JRD but the relationship between her son and Ratan was warmer. This could have been because Rajiv and Ratan spoke the same language in many ways. Westernised and technically minded, they loved flying, and neither was particularly enamoured of his job. Both could tinker with sophisticated computer programmes but found themselves operating hopelessly out of their depth in the cut-and-thrust of today's India. All too often,
they found that they'd been too open, too trusting, taking people at face value …

"I first met Rajiv Gandhi with his mother at Jamshedpur shortly after the death of his brother Sanjay Gandhi in a plane crash in 1980," said Tata. "We had dinner together and I was struck by the man's politeness and sincerity. After that we did not meet for a few years. When he took over as prime minister, I was very much excited by
the freshness with which he was looking at economic and political issues…"

Their friendship and mutual admiration brought about a major change in the group's attitude towards the government and vice versa. Indicative of the new approach as the Air-India chairmanship - "I read about my appointment in the papers!" - and Ratan's close advisory relationship with Gandhi…

Many Tata project applications, which had been buried under mountains of paper, were approved during this period. In his 1983 Strategic plan, Tata had pleaded to be allowed into high-tech industries of strategic importance.

"With the first round of liberalisation under Rajiv Gandhi, these were precisely some of the areas that were thrown open (to the private sector). Suddenly our success rate in getting licences, was 100 per cent!" said pleased Tata with some surprise…

The new understanding which Tatas had with the government did not survive Rajiv Gandhi's assassination. Be it under VP Singh or Narasimha Rao, it was back to status quo, or near enough. Try as he might, Ratan has not yet been able to clear an airline venture with Singapore Airlines and his attempts to renew Tisco's mining rights in Orissa illustrate his difficulties. Instead of the lease being extended, the Tatas lost ground.

Stepping across the threshold of Bombay House is like walking through a time warp. Tea for afternoon visitors arrives on little wooden trays covered by crisp white napery. Burnished steel teapots, buried under thick cosies, accompany plates of dainty pastries. As many little old ladies hobble in and out of the marble portals
of Bombay House as dashing young money managers clutching important
company statements.

The head office's air of old fashioned courtliness is far removed from the rough and tumble atmosphere of the Bombay Stock Exchange, a stone's throw away. The ladies room on the ground floor is an oasis of quiet, a refuge from the stress of modern life, much like the ladies room at the Bombay Gymkhana. Tables and benches are provided for those who want to eat their lunch in privacy, there is a comfortable chair to rest tired feet, and a small vanity area to refresh war paint…

The play of the old and the new overlapping and clashing against each other is repeated on the fourth floor, the executive floor. The passage is thickly carpeted and richly panelled. Open the door to Ratan's office suite, and its starkness hits you in the face.

Yet Tata's office is as self-effacing as the man. Located a few steps down from the main boardroom where he was appointed group chairman, the suite was allotted to Ratan when he became head of Tata Industries in 1982. Neither after JRD's retirement or his death has Ratan made any move to occupy his famous corner office. Currently the room is unused but dusted meticulously. The only occupant in the silent anteroom is JRD's secretary…

Conversely, Ratan's office is a beehive of activity. It was renovated about three years ago when the 800 to 1,000 square foot space was partitioned into several cubicles. Apart from the reception area, there's a handkerchief size cabin for his executive assistant Rajiv Dube and two cubby holes for Sheila Shastri and KD Skandan (Tata's two secretaries) besides a conference room to seat eight which is used by Ratan as a functional working area. Tata's own office facing the entrance is slightly - but not much larger - than the reception area and dominated by a picture of a jet cockpit.

On the coffee table in the reception area is an eclectic range of reading material. Copies of Tata Sphere and Tisco News are in the company of Forbes, Fortune, the Economist and the Far Eastern Economic Review. Sandwiched between them are thumbed issues of Computerworld, Semiconductor, Le Figaro, and the International Herald Tribune. The décor is purely functional. Not even the gently Bendre landscape behind the receptionist's desk can soften the harshness of the white laminated partitions, the inexpensive black cloth sofas, the slate-grey short-pile carpet. The mandatory potted plants look cowed down by the clinical atmosphere with its harsh white lighting. There are no objets d'art, no ashtrays, no bits of paper and fewer frills than in a dentist's waiting room. In the conference room, however, Tata's passion for aviation is very visible in the aircraft memorabilia on the wall unit.

The Tata group is at a watershed in its 125-year old history, and there are hard decisions waiting for its group chairman. It needs a leader who can bridge the past and the future. Is Ratan the right man for the right job at the right time? Even though he has brought to heels some of the brightest and best brains in management proving that he has the ruthlessness and doggedness of a leader, some peers still question his acceptability. Like a nagging stepmother, they keep finding faults with the stepchild.

One reason for this could be Ratan's aloofness. Circumstances and personality have combined to make Tata a loner. The boardroom battles carved deep scars and he's shed his trustful nature. Reticent to a fault, few know his secrets, hopes and desires. He doesn't share confidences with anyone, not even Nusli Wadia, Ambani's bete noire and Tata's childhood friend. Today his closest companion is Tito, an
Alsatian dog.

But in India, chairmen - especially aggressive ones - are expected to be within hearing distance of the mobile's shrill ring. Anytime. Anywhere. Networking outside the office is equally important. However, Tata has a habit of disappearing which even his supporters find trying. Considered remote and inaccessible, he is out of his office up to 15 days a month . He leaves office at 6:30 and doesn't like to be disturbed at home. Saturdays and Sundays are equally sacrosanct although "he finds it difficult to keep work away from weekends and often reads reports late into the night" says a close friend. According to his office, given Tata's hectic schedule, it is difficult at short notice to get a time in his diary.

However, often at his own inconvenience, he goes out of his way to accommodate a meeting to resolve a mundane grievance of an employee or a shareholder. Despite his trying to be as accessible as possible, there are some who still find him remote.

Brushing aside the censure, Tata says: "It's possibly true in some cases, probably not in others. I think more often the people who make those complaints have to ask themselves what they push into this office that they shouldn't - and how much of the buck they can pass they can keep with themselves. Yes, there are only 24 hours in the day, and there are great pressures on me. Sitting here with you is depriving someone of their time with me and unfortunately the worst complaints arise about my time being eaten are by people from outside and not so much from within."

Isn't that part of the chairman's role? "Not necessarily. While I don't mind the occasional meeting with a visiting delegate from overseas who want to know more about India and Tatas, people have to realise that it is not the only role that I have to play. Although I can't do anything about it, that's a role I don't enjoy and one that I find somewhat wasteful!…"

Aware of the criticism and whispering going on behind his back, Ratan understands the challenges that face him. He knows that the decisions he takes today will decide the future. It's hard to read tea leaves but he has to get it right if he wants to stop analysts from calling the group a dinosaur. Ratan wants to radically change the Tata culture, make it more competitive and agile.