Ratan Tata Mixed Old World Charm With New Age Boldness in a Colourful Career

Ratan Tata passed away on 9 October.

(Photo: The Quint)

The aura was unmistakable in my only physical encounter with Ratan Tata. 

We were a group of reporters stalking him after he had just inaugurated the Tata group's foray into low-frills budget hotels in what was then Bangalore, with a brand called IndiOne, which later changed to Ginger. I have met many celebrities of various hues in a long career but his casual charm was unique as he strode with a warm smile in a pair of jeans and an elegant azure blue shirt, leaning back on a car with a swagger to field our questions.

There were no smartphones then, but I was lucky that a newspaper's lensman clicked me as I walked behind him. The photo stands as a memorable selfie to which I link decades of watching and chronicling Ratan Tata in many roles: change-maker, innovator, growth wizard, corporate warrior, boardroom custodian, philanthropist and startup mentor. Oh yes, he once even had a fling with Bollywood as co-producer.

In each of these roles, what stood out was the human warmth and energy that I experienced on that day. Above and below all, Ratan Tata, who died aged 86 as Chairman Emeritus of the Tata group, was a people addict who liked to be surrounded by folks he loved, who loved him right back.

At that event, which was also graced by the late CK Prahlad, the Tatas were courting the professor's philosophy of finding a "Fortune At the Bottom of the Pyramid" (title of the management guru's famous book). That approach only brought mixed fortunes for the Tatas who saw the Ginger hotel chain amble along while the small car, Nano, was an utter failure. But here was a man betting on growth through innovation and boldness -- some of which paid off magnificently.

Long before Ginger and Nano, Ratan Naval Tata did some spring cleaning from Bombay House, the headquarters of the Tata clan's Parsee industrial empire. What he was doing was in sync with a resurgent India that was doing pretty much the same with its economy, and I had my own opportunities to chronicle and observe them both.

Ratan Tata took charge of Tata Sons, the closely held company that controls stakes in a slew of listed companies, on March 25, 1991, even as the country was negotiating a bruising balance of payments crisis that saw a planeload of gold being flown out for a meagre $600 million loan from the Bank of England. As India cleaned up its act with a globalisation plan under Finance Minister Manmohan Singh with a devaluation of the rupee on 1 July 1991, Ratan was preparing to sweep off a bunch of entitled chieftains in his conglomerate in a spring cleaning act that set the Tatas up for their own worldwide adventures.

The Tata group was then called a satrapy because the chairpersons of group companies ran virtual fiefdoms with a sense of entitlement and comfort that did not fit in with the New India or the new vision of the group that focused on efficiency and new frontiers. Ratan Tata systematically eased them off in varying hues of retirement and forced exits, showing that beneath that soft exterior lurked a focused, no-nonsense business baron.

The satraps went out one by one: Ajit Kerkar of Indian Hotels, Xerxes Desai of Titan, Darbari Sheth of Tata Chemicals and above all, Russi Mody at Tata Steel.  The latter saw a most unseemly exit.  I had my own cameo in it as the media chronicled changes at the country's largest steelmaker that went on to become a global giant.

I was invited to be the "judge" in the popular "Aap Ki Adalat" talk show on Zee TV as anchor Rajat Sharma roasted the ousted Tata Steel managing director with accusations of his corporate behaviour. Backstage, Mody told me that J.N. Tata, founder of the Tata group had believed in nurturing the steelmaker as a social enterprise that helped the local community and environment rather than an industrial venture in pursuit of profit.

Ratan Tata would have none of that. He focused on both profitability and growth -- and in this, he empowered with affection and risk appetite a bunch of new, entrepreneurial managers from within and without who saw the Tatas enter a new age of global ambition that matched that of India.

As the country entered the new millennium, Tata Tea (now Tata Consumer Brands) acquired the British Tetley brand, Tata Steel acquired the Anglo-Dutch Corus group for $12 billion and Tata Motors bagged the Jaguar Land Rover from Ford Motor for $2.3 billion. Tata Elxsi went on to help Hollywood make cutting-edge computer graphics. At home, the Tata Indica replaced the staid old Ambassador as the ubiquitous taxi vehicle. Tata Consultancy Services is listed on the New York Stock Exchange, confirming its status as the company that pioneered software outsourcing as a global phenomenon.

As Ratan Tata the change-maker gave way to reveal a growth wizard and dealmaker, some eyebrows were indeed raised. Toronto's Rotman School of Management said the Tatas had paid more than due for Corus because of nationalist considerations in buying out a company associated with colonial rule -- calling it a case of "pride premium". That reminded one of Amitabh Bachchan in Deewar, paying a huge price to buy the building where his mother laboured as a construction worker.

Some deals paid off, some didn't and destiny took strange turns. But what remained clear was that Ratan Tata could take a bold bet and take a stand where it mattered. Both the Corus deal and later, the failed Nano car project, brought out these facets of the man. Other events confirmed this.

Tata Nano failed but the Tatas raked in huge profits as the acquired Jaguar brought in loads of profits -- Ratan Tata found his fortune there not at the bottom of the pyramid but at the top as newly-minted moneybags in China bought enough luxury cars to make the Jaguar roar.

Similarly, Tata Tea could not make headway as a global health beverage player in the US after it acquired a big stake in Glaceau for $677 million in 2006. But barely a year later, the stake was sold for $1.2 billion in a takeover battle that Coca-Cola won -- but the Tatas had made a neat profit of about $520 million on that one.

After the dealmaker came the corporate warrior who would stand up for his team. As Tata employees suffered in a planned Nano project at Singur in West Bengal, Ratan Tata stood firmly as a warrior against then West Bengal Opposition leader Mamata Banerjee in an epic conflict that saw the politician speaking for local farmers and livelihoods. The Nano project moved to Gujarat, after which it failed. But we would remember Ratan Tata as the man who would stand up against powerful politicians to defend his troops.

As he officially retired to make way for the dour Cyrus Mistry who became the chairman of Tata Sons, his role as Chairman Emeritus is the stuff of classic fiction. As a representative of the Tata Trusts that controlled Tata Sons, he summarily threw out Mistry in a boardroom coup in 2016.

A legal battle followed, and then Mistry died in a tragic car accident. Disagreements were officially over business strategy and shareholder rights. However, one could see how the two conflicted with each other: Cyrus Mistry was a tooth-combing, bottom-line-loving micro-manager, and Ratan Tata was a romantic people punter who loved glamorous growth. The chemistry with Mistry just was not right -- something that Ratan Tata watchers would see as rare for such a warm individual.

There was a lot of mistrust between the two as Ratan Tata spoke of "Tata values" that were eroded under Mistry. Ratan Tata had handpicked the man who he could no longer trust, a word that his confidants and admirers would otherwise associate strongly with him. Interestingly, Ratan Tata co-produced in 2004 a Hindi movie called Aetbaar, which literally means "trust" in Urdu. The Tata-Mistry tussle was as much a psychological thriller as the movie. Like Mistry at Tata Sons, it flopped in what must be the most controversial chapter of Ratan Tata's colourful career.

Smart boys don't retire. Ratan Tata never got off the headlines or public attention. He reinvented himself partly as a generous philanthropist and mostly as a new-age angel investor betting on technology startups. His Instagram account exploded overnight.

Days before his death, headlines screamed that he had made a 23000 percent profit on Upstox, a fin-tech player. CashKaro and the recently listed FirstCry-owner Brainbees Solutions Ltd are other key investments made by Ratan Tata in his personal capacity.

In serenading firms fancied by Millennials and Gen Z kids, Ratan Tata, who described his investments as learning experiences, showed that he loved to be married to innovative adventures that contrasted his simple, single personal life. This is the kind of stuff that historians would love as much as novelists and psychologists.

(The writer is a senior journalist and commentator who has worked for Reuters, Economic Times, Business Standard, and Hindustan Times. He can be reached on Twitter @madversity. This is an opinion article and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)