Some Advice for Saturn
When I purchased my car, I was in a pretty bad situation. The vehicle I had been driving was involved in a very serious accident that was going to be the subject of an ongoing lawsuit and I had only a limited amount of cash with which to buy a new vehicle.
I did the best that I could with limited time and budget. I acquired a 1998 Saturn SL2 with a cash payment and have been driving it for the past two years. The car, however, has had a lot of trouble. Since I’ve bought it, I’ve had two engine sensors go out, the driver’s window crank break, the fan motor go out and, worst of all, the engine mount bolts snap in two.
Though the engine itself has been reliable (even running perfectly when the bolts broke), the car has spent more time in the repair shop than I’d like to admit. However, it seems that most of it is behind it now (knock on wood) and I’ve had no issues at all for nearly six months.
So, I decided to take this period of quiet not only to pay off all the repair debts, but to see about fixing the only problem I was aware of when I purchased it. You see, for whatever reason, the car did not have a dome light when I bought it, instead opting for a hole and some bare wire where the light should go. But I knew dome lights were cheap and unimportant so I let it go.
Little did I know exactly how difficult Saturn would make this.
Light at the End of the Tunnel
I took the car by my local repair shop to see if this was something they handled (sometimes they opt out of jobs that are too big or too small for them). They agreed to do it, but asked me to bring them the part since they had an issue getting timely service from the local Saturn dealer.
I called, confirmed that they had the dome light in stock and drove down to the dealership, about a fifteen minute haul with traffic. There, I picked up the part, paid $3 8 for it and drove off thinking that it was all just too easy.
I had no idea how right I was.
When I got to the repair shop, they took one look at the light and realized that something was missing. Though it was the correct part, it was missing the clip that connects the bare wires to the unit.
At this point, I was already a bit annoyed. When I first called the dealership, I mentioned, albeit casually, to the parts clerk that I only had the bare wire and he failed to ask if I had or needed such a clip (I was unaware of the need).
Still, I got on the phone and called Saturn again. I was then in for a surprise. Not only did they not have the clip in question in stock, but they did not have it available for sale at all. When I asked how that was possible, they said I should still have the clip from the previous light even though I clearly don’t.
The best advice the parts clerk gave me was to go to a salvage yard, find a similar model car and rip out its dome light, cutting the wires with a few inches to spare and either taking the whole unit or freeing the clip.
Though the dubious quality of my Saturn had previously been my greatest worry about Saturn, a car that seemingly falls apart at a little over 100,000 miles is not a good sign for a car company, this to me is a much bigger issue.
This is more than just a quality problem, it speaks to the heart of what is wrong with Saturn, GM and likely even all of the U.S. car companies.
A Microcosm in a Clip
Imagine this conversation between a computer user and tech support:
User: Yes, I purchased a new DX6000 computer and I noticed that there’s no power cord in the box.
Support: I’m sorry sir, the DX6000 does not come with a power cord.
User: Well, how do I plug it in?
Support: You should have the cord from your previous computer. It is compatible with your new one.
User: But this isn’t a replacement machine! I don’t have any spare power cords.
Support: Oh, I see, that is a problem then.
User: How much is it to buy a new cord?
Support: Um, we don’t sell power cords.
User: What?
Support: You’ll have to find someone else’s computer that they are throwing away and get the cord from it.
If a computer company tried that, they would be lucky to just be put out of business and not get the “mob with flaming torches” treatment.
Simply put, you don’t sell a part or a piece of equipment without all of the elements needed to make it work, especially if the part in question are incredibly cheap (this clip has been described as a three inch piece of plastic).
The fact that Saturn could even do this, even with something as small as a dome light, shows a real serious flaw in the logic of this company and in its customer service. Saturn has a lot of good people on the ground here in New Orleans, I know many of them, but it is clear that they are not putting in the time, energy or work to ensure a good customer experience at the corporate level.
If you want to know why U.S. companies/brands are suffering so badly, this is a good microcosm of the problem. Not only have the quality, fuel-efficiency and likability of the cars been in question for many years, but the company makes stupid, bone-headed decisions that actively thwart user efforts to increase the enjoyment of their vehicles.
Don’t believe me. Remember when Ford threatened a Mustang club with copyright infringement for releasing a calendar of their cars (Though the matter was eventually resolved)? That’s the mentality of these companies, profits first, people second.
Conclusions
Could this just be a stupid oversight on Saturn’s part? Sure. In fact, I’ll venture it probably is. But these are not the kinds of mistakes you make repeatedly and keep your position as an industry leader. If Microsoft did this with Windows, you’d see a mass migration to Mac and Linux within hours.
I don’t know for certain if Honda or other car companies are any better, but I don’t see how they can be much worse. This Saturn has definitely turned me off to buying another GM vehicle (new or used) and likely away from American cars altogether.
Now that I’ve paid off all the repair bills and we’re mere months away from getting almost completely out of debt, maybe I’ll start looking for a new car soon. In the meantime, I’m stuck with this Saturn and the achingly mistake-prone company that comes attached to it.

