Career Minded The Cultural Divide

Michael Lock isn’t a fan of office politics or drama. But such issues have become occupational hazards for the man who’s now the chief executive of Ducati North America, the U.S. division of the famed, 80-year-old Italian motorcycle maker. Lock, a straight-talking Englishman, and his bosses in Bologna have clashed over cultural differences ever since he took over U.S. operations four years ago.

Lock doesn’t speak Italian fluently, but language is the least of his worries. What irks him are subtle inconsistencies in business philosophy and communication style—problems that senior executives are encountering on an increasingly common basis as companies go global. “Intrigue and alliances are very important at our company,” Lock says, referring to Ducati’s southern European corporate culture, which he also describes as hierarchical, too slow to change, and highly political. Intimidated at first by Ducati’s legendary reputation, he was soon struck by the company’s unwritten rules. “It is all about one’s tone of voice, a raised eyebrow, or what happened at a meeting behind closed doors before the real meeting took place,” he tells me from his office in Cupertino, California. “I could learn all these tricks and techniques, but I really do not play that game.”

His bosses tolerate his venting as long as he’s making them money. Hailed as the Ferrari of the motorcycle world, a Ducati can cost up to $70,000. Global sales of the pricey motorcycles, which are sometimes beset by technical glitches, had stalled in the early 2000s. Ducati hired Lock—who had worked for the European division of Honda and the American and British arms of Triumph—to turn things around in the U.S., and he has succeeded. Since 2003, the number of Ducatis sold in the U.S. has risen 63 percent, to more than 8,000 last year. They’re once again coveted and owned by an elite gang of billionaires and celebrities, including real estate—and now newspaper—magnate Sam Zell, Tom Cruise, and Kobe Bryant. Today, the North American division brings in about 30 percent of the company’s overall business, compared with 16 percent when Lock joined.

In return, Bologna has had to get used to Lock’s blunt style. One department head protested that, when Lock suggested he upgrade his department’s operations, Lock was being rude. But no apology came from Lock, who will dare to be rude if product quality is at risk. In Lock’s view, he could not have solved many of Ducati North America’s problems unless the company had also made dramatic adjustments to its operations in Italy.

Although Lock expresses respect for his colleagues across the Atlantic, the culture clash that occurs when a practical-minded Englishman faces a laid-back Italian style of management occasionally frustrates him. In 2003, for example, Lock complained that Italian suppliers were routinely late in delivering motorcycle accessories such as $3,000 exhaust systems and $1,000 G.P.S. units. He was met with a shrug from Ducati headquarters. Lock complains that his Italian counterparts would much rather do business with a supplier 20 miles down the road whom they have a long relationship with rather than a more reliable supplier in the Czech Republic. He countered to his bosses that Ducati North America would not be able to exceed financial goals if U.S. dealers did not have the high-margin accessories when customers wanted them. At first, Ducati’s executives looked skeptically at the notion that changing their decades-old relationships with vendors would boost U.S. sales, but when they eventually agreed and asked suppliers to ship accessories to the U.S. sooner, they saw the improvement. Last year, sales of accessories in the U.S. rose 38 percent from the previous year.

To get his points across, Lock has resorted to some creative, occasionally humorous measures. Before he arrived, Ducati’s branded apparel wasn’t selling in the States. Lock realized the clothes weren’t selling because they were too small for American consumers. “Unless you were 12 years old, you could not fit into anything,” he says. Bologna answered by shipping over more Italian XXLs—the equivalent of U.S. mediums. In response, Lock mailed his Italian colleagues a box of American XXL clothes to prove that bikers in the States require more material. After a few fat-American jokes from Bologna, Lock got a shipment of larger clothes, and last year, Ducati’s clothing sales in the U.S. rose 75 percent.

Lock also refuses to kowtow if potential sales growth is at stake. At a recent company meeting, other division heads were waiting to share their opinions about a new cycle design until superiors had expressed their thoughts, but Lock says he chimed right in, explaining that, based on his North American market research, Ducati should price its new motorcycle at less than $15,000. “Europe is consensus driven, and I want to be the guy determining the consensus rather than waiting for it,” he says.

Lock knows that, by Italian standards, he oversteps his bounds. But, he insists, clinging to the habits that helped him grow other businesses and his career will also bring success to Ducati North America. “This is what they brought me in for, and this is what I need to be,” he says. “I do not think they want me to change.”