Op-Ed: Requiring the impossible—how pride brought VW to its knees

Motives and emotions can penetrate even the most clinical, technical arenas. The root cause of Volkswagen's diesel imbroglio—while digitally embedded in code deep within at least 11 million engine control computers—lies in a far more human pursuit: pride.

The pride driving remarkable engineering at the Volkswagen Auto Group stretches deep and long. Its most direct link to VW's diesel emissions scandal came in the form of the hyper-efficient "1-Liter" concept car, first shown in 2002 by then-Chairman of the Board and legendary engineer Ferdinand Piech. The 1 Liter's grand purpose was as a technical showcase for the VW's engineering and design. The goal was to deliver staggering fuel efficiency—in this case, 100km from just 1 liter of fuel (282.5 mpg). It required the impossible, and achieving the impossible would make techies, industrial engineers, critics, and even the competition swoon.

Volkswagen believed that calling attention to its own inventiveness with a forward-looking, green, and practical car of astounding efficiency told a compelling story about its technical capabilities, commitment to the environment, and never-ending stretch goals. But it also served another purpose: to brag with subtlety. VW would engineer and show off a car no one else could. We can do this. We will do this. Only VW. Poetically, the 1 Liter concept was carried out in exactly the same manner as the "clean diesel" campaign of smoke and mirrors, with deeply embedded pride and braggadocio, but somehow outwardly subtle.

VW had reason for the pride. Piech is undoubtedly the best engineering mind and product planner in the industry, perhaps ever. He's not just a technical mind, but a political and financial one. He outflanked competitors in 1997 and 1998 to poach Bentley, Bugatti, and Lamborghini for his own VW Group. Piech's résumé is filled with world-beaters and engineering marvels: the Porsche 917 race car, Audi's Quattro all-wheel-drive system and the FIA Rally car that introduced the Quattro name, the 1983 super-aerodynamic Audi 100 (5000 in America) that pioneered flush side glass, the 1000hp Bugatti Veyron, and even dual-clutch transmissions. There have been failures—the ill-conceived VW Phaeton luxury sedan—but he's justifiably a very proud man. Other very proud men came after him, and those men always stood in the dark, unstable shadow of Piech's accomplishments.

To be an engineer at any German auto company—but especially one presided over by Piech—means days and nights living in fear and flop sweat along with the pressure to invent ways of getting from A to Z without even touching B through Y. Impossible? Have it on my desk by 5pm.

In the late 1990s, the big challenge and big opportunity facing many European—but primarily German—car makers involved diesel engines. Most advanced nations that signed the Kyoto Protocol in 1997 agreed to reduce CO₂ emissions by eight percent over the following 15 years. German car manufacturers lobbied the European Commission with a diesel agenda. Their argument went that adopting a higher share of diesels would lower overall carbon emissions, since diesels inherently produced less CO₂ than gasoline engines. Plus, everybody had just agreed that carbon in the form of CO₂ was redlining the environmental Geiger counter. Meanwhile, American and Japanese manufacturers looked to electric and hybrid development.

The European car market quickly turned diesel. Starting with a 10 percent market share in the mid-1990s, diesels grew to 31 percent by 2000 and more than 55 percent by 2012. In addition, diesel fuel was cheaper and registration costs were lower than gasoline-powered cars. A comfortable, king-size bed was made for the diesel movement, and it resplendently held court in Germany.

However, one of the most significant markets sat about 6,000 miles to the west. On its own, California is the single-largest auto market in the US, and while that may make it seem like the proverbial pot of gold, it's also the most stringently regulated, pollution-wise. California sets the tone and tenor for all of Emissionsville. But in the late 1990s and early 2000s, diesels still emitted nitrogen oxides (NOx) too prodigiously to pass the state's strictest standards. If a manufacturer could crack that market with high-value, high-tech diesels, it would go a long way to reaching gigantic global sales goals—and VW had some truly gigantic ones. And if it could do it without downstream exhaust after-treatment like urea injection, it would cause a landslide of adulation for genius engineering. Pride.