Mr Jacques Nasser, chief executive elect of Ford Motor Company, has been described both as a maverick and a breath of fresh air in the sometimes stuffy world of carmakers in Detroit.
For several years, the hard-driving Mr Nasser - who will take over from Mr Alex Trotman as Ford's chief executive in January - has been a part of the Ford pursuit that has fascinated, yet eluded, the automotive industry: the "common car", a product that could be sold from Stockholm to Sandusky.
In recent years the company has refined that ideal. Mr Nasser argues it is possible to standardise engineering and production while still satisfying the eclectic tastes of car buyers around the world. Instead of the common car, the company has emphasised "common platforms" - or core designs - which it can then enhance with external tailoring to make the product appeal to different markets.
Mr Nasser admits Detroit could not have coped with this approach five years ago. Ford's current philosophy was put in place by Mr Trotman under the "Ford 2000" banner. The plan, introduced in 1995, entailed pulling international operations into one integrated company; simplifying core engineering and production to achieve considerable cost savings; and designing around the reduced number of platforms.
Mr Nasser, who became Ford's head of automotive operations in 1996, won his spurs implementing much of the mechanics for this plan. He killed off unprofitable vehicles; shifted production around; spurred a dealership reorganisation; and put pressure on suppliers.
The process has enthused Wall Street, as billions of dollars of cost savings have strengthened the world's second largest carmaker. It has also revitalised Ford's share price, and caught competitors such as General Motors on the hop. Much of Ford's approach has now been copied.
The strategy earned Mr Nasser the nickname of "Jack the Knife", a title he dislikes. But even detractors grudgingly admit he is a "car man" - high praise in Detroit.
He was born in Lebanon, and his family moved to Australia when he was four. Mr Nasser's father worked briefly as a foreman for General Motors in Melbourne, and went on to build up his own property business. Mr Nasser's brother still has property, including nightclub and restaurant interests, in Melbourne.
Mr Nasser was a car enthusiast from an early age. Certainly, he was a Ford man from the start. He joined the company as a financial analyst in 1968, worked stints in Latin America and Europe, and in the mid-1990s headed the carmaker's product development team.
Living up to his maverick reputation, he recently abandoned plans for a formal interview at the last minute, switching the venue to a discreet Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Mr Nasser, it transpired, had had his fill of tramping around the annual motor show occupying Las Vegas's cavernous convention centre. So, accompanied by Mr J. Mays, the mastermind behind the design of the new Volkswagen Beetle, who joined Ford last year, he suggested a quiet lunch.
In distinctly un-American fashion, a bottle of Chianti was uncorked and conversation settled on the shape and fate of cars to come.
"In the past," Mr Mays says, "we tended to focus inwardly, looking for functional efficiency. Now the mind-shift is to more outwardly focused, emotional satisfaction for the customer."
Mr Nasser takes up the argument, linking trends in car design and production to the 1990s emphasis on lifestyle choices (at least in Europe and North America).
"What you're seeing is niche cultures," he says, using as an example the thousands of magazines that address everything from knitting for the over-sixties to Hispanic scuba-diving. Internationally, too, he notes that products such as the music channel, MTV, tailor their approach to suit European, North American or Latino audiences.
Add the aspirational element to car-purchasing, and this combination of production efficiency and superficial differentiation sounds persuasive. "People's homes are what they are," says Mr Mays. "People's cars are what they would like to be."
But why has Detroit suddenly stumbled on the notion that the average car buyer wants more than a metal box that stops and starts to order and looks just like his neighbour's? Mr Nasser does not miss a beat. "Because it's a marvellous business opportunity."
The conversation switches briefly to Australian politics, with Mr Nasser expressing admiration for Mr Paul Keating, the former prime minister. It was Mr Keating who, in an effort to bring big cultural changes, ended by dividing his electorate. Could there be parallels with Mr Nasser's drive to overhaul Ford? In the corporate context, is it possible to move too fast?
Mr Nasser pauses, thoughtfully. "I actually think there are more checks and balances in a company [than in politics]," he says. In a business, he points out, there is instant reaction to any fresh initiative: from trade unions, the media, shareholders or the stock market.
If the Las Vegas show had briefly proved to be overwhelming, Mr Nasser's enthusiasm for bustle seems to be returning. "I love big cities," he says. "They're about people, culture, aspirations." So which city is his favourite? He thinks for a moment and picks London - although, with a salesman's tact, quickly adds that if "you pick one, you piss off the others".
It is an unusual choice for someone who has prospered in Australia and America, two societies that are particularly welcoming to newcomers. While Britain may tolerate outsiders, it is less quick to embrace new arrivals or ideas.
Mr Nasser smiles. "Tolerance is the first step to acceptance," he says. "But you may have a point. . .."
