French Cars

Classic Citroen
(photo: Telegraph)

Today's online editions ofThe New York Times included a feature piece about classic French cars. The article reports on the 38th annual Retromobile show, an event that showcases Gallic automotive ingenuity. Americans don't associate the land of Chanel and haute cuisine with engineering excellence. Yet, French firms have created some memorable, even wacky machines.

Among them are Citroens, Peugeots, and Renaults whose shapes would never have passed a Detroit Big Three review committee. During various visits to France, I've seen some of these vehicles. They often seemed held together with something other than sturdy bolts and suspensions. My favorite was M. Hulot's jalopy, which I saw courtesy of the funny Jacques Tati movie M. Hulot's Holiday. That film was as quirky as the car shown in it. There's something about the French sense of invention that remains appealing, even today, and it's on display now at Retromobile in Paris.

Economic Warfare School

In a widely reported story today, three key employees of the French car manufacturer Renault were suspended for their alleged involvement in industrial espionage. In the trio's cases, they were suspected to providing sensitive internal information about new electric car technology to representatives of foreign entities.

France is hardly a stranger to industrial espionage. The nation's political-industrial complex has been among the world leaders in conducting industrial spying, sharing leadership in this dubious category with Israel and Russia. The Renault case has turned the tables on the French. It has also brought attention to the People's Republic of China's clandestine efforts to obtain confidential industrial information. (It should be noted that a different perspective on the case was raised in an automotive news blog, which suggested in-house rivalries generated the "espionage," rather than James Bond-style international spy rings.)

One curious aspect of l'affaire Renault was a cogent comment from a representative of an institution called the Economic Warfare School of Paris. The institution, a splendid example of the close links between the French state and key French industries, trains its cadres in the art of economic ju-jitsu. Military experts are among the school's trainers. The school's thumbnail description leaves little mystery as to its purpose, and presumably one's probable career path. It's not as if one gets a job in this field through The New York Times classifieds.

What can the school's application form be like? One wonders how an applicant's professional recommendations are handled. And imagine one's surprise when walking into an office, and on the colleague's wall is a diploma from this unique French institution. Would the diploma be an ice-breaker or a conversation killer? And one should tread carefully on the topic of Renault's new line of electric cars.