The modernization of production in the French automobile industry between the wars: a photographic essay.
The situation was symbolic: the automobile was in essence a French invention, but in under twenty years France had been surpassed at every level--technical, industrial, and organizational.(2) This essay focuses on attempts by French automobile manufacturers to bridge the gap to American practice during the interwar years. The article examines changes in the organization of production, providing a brief overview of the most important manufacturers between the wars: Citroen, Renault, and Peugeot; it then goes on to consider some of their organizational experiments.
In particular the essay draws on a little-utilized source, photographs of production processes and factories. All of the photographs in this article (except one showing the Renault factory) come from the respective Services photographiques of Peugeot and Citroen. All of the photographs were taken to illustrate the production process. Because they were originally produced as a means of corporate communication, they are extremely informative; several were published in advertising material or in pamphlets or journals presenting the firms to the public.
Three Strategic Recipes
By 1939, 75 percent of French automobile production was in the hands of three manufacturers: Citroen, Renault, and Peugeot. In 1938 and 1939 each company made between 50,000 and 70,000 vehicles a year. This output was far from the millions produced by the principal American manufacturers; indeed, only Citroen had ever attained 100,000 annually (in 1929), but the French figures represented a tenfold increase over the annual prewar production of the two leaders, Renault and Peugeot, which had then just reached 4,500.
Andre Citroen was a newcomer to the industry in 1919. He became the so-called French Ford or Ford of Europe, because he assiduously strove to concentrate production on a single model, systematically importing American methods and adapting them to his own products. He was the first to make an all-steel body for his automobiles, using the techniques of the Budd Company, a U.S. pioneer is steel-body construction. Citroen was also a radical innovator in marketing, particularly in the use of aggressive advertising. Citroen did not believe, however, that France in the 1920s was ready to accept the manufacture of five hundred automobiles a day, concentrated at a single plant. He preferred that his company disperse its production units, because doing so allowed it to engage in land speculation and to avoid a dangerous concentration of workers in one place.(3) Even so, Citroen briefly reached an output of five hundred vehicles per day in 1929.
Renault presented a sharp contrast. Not only did Louis Renault tenaciously maintain a wide range of models "a la francaise," but he also undertook the manufacture of other vehicles--for example, for the military and for agriculture--as well as aircraft engines. Nevertheless, Renault constructed a system of production that was to a great extent vertically integrated and in this respect was much closer to Ford's than Citroen was. Moreover, the Renault company embraced the advantages of the concentration of production in a single plant.(4)
The financial differences between the two companies were equally apparent. Citroen raised outside capital whenever he embarked on an important venture. The risks he incurred were such that in 1934, just as his front-wheel drive car was launched, the company was declared bankrupt. The revolutionary new automobile design subsequently saved the firm, but Andre Citroen died in 1935, before the success of his bold move was apparent. By contrast, Renault kept steadfastly to self-finance. Although it slowed down the pace of technical development, the practice was rewarded during the Great Depression, which had little impact on Renault.
Peugeot represented a case between these two poles. In 1914 it was second only to Renault. In 1919 its product range was extremely diverse and its plants were widely dispersed, although its operations were not highly integrated. During the early 1920s, Peugeot appealed broadly outside the firm for funds to finance its investments, but a distinct change took place between 1928 and 1930. Production was increased, and the company turned to self-finance. Like Renault, Peugeot survived the Depression without much difficulty.(5)
The companies thus had three very different strategies and structures. Nevertheless, their experiments in methods of production and organization were quite comparable, although the timing of their introduction varied.
Unrestrained Experimentation, 1919-1928
In 1919 a phase that may be described as one of unrestrained experimentation began. Industrialists, engineers, workers, politicians, and high-ranking civil servants all emerged from the First World War with a common experience of large-scale production and a shared myth--the American myth Everywhere there were people--including radical parliamentarians, the majority of trade unionists in the CGT (Confederation generale du Travail, the large workers' union), engineers in metallurgy, and industrialists in the chemical industry--who were convinced that they could use their experience from the war to change the rules of the economy and to embark on an era of rationalization.(6) At that time, it seemed that everyone in France believed that an expanding market would offer unlimited possibilities for large-scale mass production, and the brief depression of 1920-21 was not sufficient to change their minds.(7) However, political and economic reality defied such illusions; the distance between aspirations and reality in French industry may never have been greater than it was in 1919.
In this atmosphere, all automobile manufacturers were fascinated by the assembly line and, more generally, by mechanical handling. Such devices were physically and obviously imposing; they embodied movement and flow--they were mass production.(8) The assembly line was the symbol of continuous production. It held the promise of the progressive elimination of direct human intervention in the process of transforming materials.
Nevertheless, seven to eight years were needed by each of the principal manufacturers to master the assembly line. Its simple technical appearance obscured the need to adapt the production apparatus as a whole to the line's demands. This was a hard task at the end of the war. An absence of qualified engineers, combined with a mystical fascination with the United States, led some producers to disaster at this time, most famously Marius Berliet at Lyon, who had been one of the biggest manufacturers before the war.(9) In order to rush things along, Berliet copied Dodge and introduced his 15-horsepower model using American machines and other equipment. The losses that followed were rapid and devastating. By 1939 Berliet was no more than an average manufacturer, specializing in heavy vehicles.(10)
Other manufacturers were not such poor students, and their progress was more gradual and better suited to the conditions in France. They did not avoid all pitfalls, but those that they encountered most often resulted from the shortage of engineers capable of mastering the complexity of installing the production process. This gap was filled by the end of the 1920s, less through training within the schools than through experience acquired in the factories by a throng of enthusiastic young engineers attracted by the automobile. But before they attained the technical level reached by Ford in its first attempt in 1913, French production lines crawled at a snail's pace through two preliminary stages.
The first was the simple lining up of the parts to be assembled (such as the chassis, or even the unfinished body). It was now those parts and no longer the workers that moved, though only manually, during the first generation of "la chaine de montage." The chassis or the body was placed on false wheels or wagons, which rolled over wooden slides. The work was carried out at a fixed position; then, with a single movement, the chassis or body was pushed manually from one position to the next. At Renault in 1922, work at each position took forty minutes.(11) The conveyors supplied the mechanical manufacturing lines and also the foundry shed.
The second stage, that of mechanization, occurred in the mid 1920s. Cars were no longer pushed by hand, but the movement of the line could be continuous or not. At the sound of a whistle, all work stopped so that the whole process could be moved forward one position. The conveyors were also mechanized. With assembly lines, they became familiar parts of the landscape in all workshops.
If the evolution of the production process at the three main manufacturers was comparable regarding the mechanical works, Citroen was a world pioneer in body production. Although the Citroen body shop floor in 1920 differed little from Peugeot's in 1906. Citroen as early as 1925 was the site of a worldwide breakthrough. They succeeded in manufacturing all-steel bodies, which none of the other manufacturers had thought possible at that time because the process required curved-panel beating. It was a very expensive improvement, both in equipment (press and welding machines) and in adjustments to personnel (numerous Budd technicians stayed for many months to set up the process).(12) Citroen's success provided an incentive to the other firms, yet Renault and Peugeot needed more than six years to achieve what Citroen--at great cost--accomplished in about one. Peugeot, for example, in 1925-26 built a new body plant at its main location in Sochaux that was literally crammed with assembly lines, but they used the older wood and simple bent-steel sheet body technology and an already out-of-date painting technique.
The arrival of Fordist assembly lines, the "third generation" of automobile technology, can be dated precisely to 1926 at Citroen and to 1928 at Peugeot. Engineers realized that the assembly line meant not only the installation of a managed process, even if mechanized. To make the movement along the line really continuous, proper timing was crucial; each position had to be balanced in relation to numerous other operations of short duration. But that required another long period of learning. The distribution of the work could no longer be left to the whim of the foreman, and a new generation of work organizers had to be created.
Between 1928 and 1930, Renault, Peugeot, and Citroen all built large-scale plants with similar technical standards. Interchangeability of mechanical parts and of pressed steel was better controlled. The forge and foundries, where the unfinished parts were produced, were adapted to the criteria of the automobile engineers. The body of the automobile, including its interior arrangement, had been revolutionized under the guidance of what one engineer called "l'esprit mechanicien" ("the mechanical spirit"). The interdependence of what the same engineer called the "five basic works" of automobile manufacture--the foundry, the forge, and the mechanical works on one side, and the panel-beating and body works on the other--was controlled as one entity and presented an image of a coherent technical whole.(13)
The Skill of the Production Manager, 1928-1936
During the second half of the 1920s, worsening economic conditions and increased competition resulted in a high failure rate among the weaker firms in the automobile industry. Production engineers had been the kings of the enterprise, the more so because their technical and organizational expertise was scarce. But in the 1920s they had to temper their enthusiasm for new production processes and devices under the constraints of new management and accounting practices that were installed as a result of serious financial crisis.(14) From 1927 Citroen was managed for three years by Lazards Bank; Michelin, the large tire manufacturer, took over in 1934 following the founder's bankruptcy. At Peugeot the crisis of 1930 resulted in the establishment of a new financial organization. In all three companies, cost accounting found its way into the financial departments. In these years, two systems confronted each other over the formulation of policy: that of the financial managers and that of the production engineers.
For Renault and Peugeot, 1928 marked an increased integration of production. This played a decisive role during the Great Depression, which began to affect France only in 1930. From 1927 Renault gathered together all its activities in sheet-steel production and in chassis and body assembly in a completely new installation, the Ile-Seguin. In 1928 Peugeot undertook the concentration of its manufacturing in a single plant with a single set of equipment and new methods. The Depression offered a premium to those who had anticipated it by integrating to a greater degree while keeping control of their finances. Citroen was still handicapped by the dispersion of its factories and its shaky management. The adaptation of its assembly plant in 1933 came too late to save the firm from bankruptcy.
From the late 1920s, what the French call American methods--a mixture of Taylorism and Fordism--spread widely beyond the automobile industry, which had until then remained their privileged territory. But this Fordism-Taylorism had limits that were perhaps particularly French: scientific organization, yes; a multiplication in the number of unskilled workers, yes; American technology, yes; assembly lines, yes; but high salaries, no. And, in the automobile industry, also no to the sort of small vehicles that would have allowed the transformation of masses of workers into consumers.
The dominance of financial managers meant that the final word in all important decisions was reserved to them, from 1928-30 at Renault and Peugeot, and from 1934 at Citroen. But the production managers retained an essential role: to adjust production methods in response to market trends and worker resistance. From the end of the 1920s, they had to work out how to organize affairs within these increasingly narrrow margins. The classic production manager was Ernest Mattern, Peugeot's directeur technique from 1917 to 1922 and again from 1928 to 1943; he spent the intervening years in positions of high responsibility at Citroen.
Mattern the production engineer was an operational economist. His responsibility was to find the balance among all the works to facilitate the manufacturing process, to instigate general time studies, and to control the efforts required to keep the line running. These were not only production aims; they were also administrative objectives. Mattern wanted to establish precise indicators, different from those of financial management, that would assist in the guidance and control of production. One of Mattern's main priorities at Citroen, and later at Peugeot, was knowledge of daily costs. This called for controls on expenditures that were not yet habitual among industrialists. On the basis of existing cost data, Mattern constructed a daily indicator of the number of hours spent on the manufacture of a single vehicle, which allowed an overall and immediate measure of productivity.
The original salary system that Mattern had devised at Citroen also included a production control function. This system, introduced in the mid-1920s, was still in force in the late 1960s at both Citroen and Renault. It was a variation on bonus payments, made up of two parts. The first, the principal, was tied to the qualifications of each worker. The other was an equal bonus payment for all, regardless of qualification--for example, three centimes a minute. The planning department calculated the number of tasks that each worker could carry out in one minute. On the assembly lines, the daily bonus level depended on collective work. This type of payment allowed fourfold control. Through the principal part, it was possible to supervise the level of qualification among the workers of the whole factory, a division, or a single workshop. Through the bonus, three elements could be judged simultaneously: the accuracy of the time studies carried out by the planning department, the individual activity of each worker, and the overall level of activity of a single workshop or factory, or even of the whole enterprise.(15)
But the true situation could not be understood from figures alone. The production manager gleaned an understanding of operations from direct inquiry and observation, from visits to workshops, from following parts from conception through final delivery, from personal trials of machines, parts, and the vehicles themselves, and from first-hand encounters with technical difficulties and human problems. Only such experience could lead to the accurate evaluation of the technical choices made.
On his return to Peugeot in 1928, Mattern found that the firm had bought ultra-modern American molding machines that seemed to put the company in the vanguard of progress. But he discovered that their use was profitable only at production levels three times those then achieved, something no one in the company had previously realized. During the same period Mattern also ascertained that the fine mechanical assembly lines installed in the completely new and immense body-making factory had the chain drives set underground, making the system so rigid that all the gains the equipment could offer were canceled out.(16) Visiting the Renault factories in 1939, Mattern thought that the variety of Renault's products was an obstacle to stronger development. But he also observed that Renault possessed a quantity of machine tools greater than that immediately needed, which allowed the company to adapt better to production changes and to employ a greater specialization of the machines.(17)
Mattern's skill and judgment within the workshop itself were most effective in the definition of work standards. When Mattern left Citroen, he gave up forever not only the largest automobile factories in Europe, but also factories in Paris. He rejoined the third largest manufacturer, whose factories were in a distant province of eastern France. At first Mattern made an overall assessment of the firm based on the figures: Peugeot's productivity was half that of Citroen. But he also carried out another assessment, based this time on an investigation, and he found that the pace of work in the assembly shops was far slower than that in the machine tool shops. "Between the assembly workshops working according to American methods and our own,'' he wrote, "there is as much difference as between the look of a horse at the gallop and a horse moving at a walking pace." Added to that problem was the high proportion of unproductive personnel.
Mattern's first measures were to select talent, to infuse young blood, and to introduce more women into the production line staff, and also to impose, as he put it, a "slight sacrifice" in salaries. The essential part of his reform was the study of rates of work at the factories in the district, with regard to the wages they commanded. It was a question of estimating the limits of worker resistance. To those who told him, "We have no trouble with the staff, who have never been so flexible," he replied, "Security is always relative and will last only as long as we are working in slow motion."
Mattern introduced Taylorist time-and-motion studies, which until then had been extended only as far as the machine-tool workshops, throughout the factory. But his ultimate criterion for defining standards was a comparison of Peugeot with Citroen's Parisian factories. This was not a standard that judged; it was a standard that adapted to the measure, without instrument or clock, of worker resistance.(18)
Well-integrated manufacture, good vehicle models, and good financial management were the decisive factors that enabled businesses to react to the crisis of the early 1930s. Reforms in production required new and more accurate operational statistics and an ability to gauge on the spot technical, organizational, and social factors simultaneously.
Andre Citroen's management failed on several of those points between 1919 and the 1934 bankruptcy. He displayed a relentless disregard for accurate cost accounting. Desiring to produce his cars within the walls of Paris, he had dispersed manufacturing among at least half a dozen different plants, refusing to take into account the resulting increase in unit costs. His bolder technological improvements became very expensive because of unanticipated delays in satisfactory implementation; this was the case with all-steel body technology as well as with the front-wheel drive car. He also repeatedly underestimated the appropriate selling price in pursuit of larger sales, although he was pioneering marketing practices in France. Finally, Citroen showed a certain taste for prestige investments that was quite compatible with his boldness in modernization and automobile design. Aiming to have a plant consistent in design with the future front-wheel drive car, he planned the complete reconstruction of the final assembly factory, quai de Javel (now quai Andre Citroen) in Paris. The task was completed in less than six months in 1933, and the Traction Avant was launched in 1934. In a still depressed economy, the combination of the new Javel and the new car was a fatal blow. Nevertheless, Andre Citroen remains the only flamboyant French auto manufacturer; whether or not flamboyance is a virtue in business, Citroen left an indelible mark on the global automobile era.
Reflections on Organization
Given the diversity of practice, it seems difficult to say that a "French style" of organization existed within the automobile industry. Borrowing from American practice was selective. It does not seem that French manufacturers, overawed by Ford, imitated the range of administrative reforms adopted by General Motors.(19) But these decisions represented not an inability to understand American techniques, but rather the choices available to the French industry. These options were determined in part by the scale of large French enterprises, which was not comparable to the American or even the Gernman, and in part by administrative traditions--which had been strengthened, rather than weakened, by the writings of Henri Fayol, an engineer, the head of a metallurgical business, and the principal author of a French theory of scientific administration.(20) Even Renault, the most diversified of the major manufacturers, maintained centralized structures; only in 1938 did the firm sketch out a plan for relocation and decentralization.(21)
The policies of the three auto producers diverged at the level of manufacturing. Louis Renault (and Marius Berliet) did not hesitate to intervene in any part of their empires. Andre Citroen and Robert and then Jean-Pierre Peugeot, in contrast, respected their managerial delegates. At Citroen the central administration weighed heavily on the divisional boards, whereas at Peugeot each division exercised great responsibility. It was the latter system that Renault adopted at the end of the 1930s.
Coordinating the diverse factories and the communition among then was, from this point of view, an increasingly critical problem. A routing office controlled the flow of manufacture and the level of stocks. As margins left by the economic conditions narrowed, the better the regulation had to be. Before the end of the 1920s, there was nothing similar to Ford's clearinghouse, a department whose function was "to initiate and control the movements" of all the parts from the foundry to the final assembly operation.(22) Citroen instituted a service of this kind, but, because of its relations with the factories, it was overwhelmed by urgent interventions, and it disturbed the departments more than it helped them. At Peugeot, on the other hand, there was no clearinghouse, and the central direction of manufacturing was distinguished by its swiftness and mobility, leaving to each department the responsibility of fulfilling predetermined programs.
Planning appeared to be most developed at Peugeot. The firm was outdistanced by its two rivals during the 1920s, but afterward it caught up to them very quickly. This was certainly in part the result of an excellent vehicle, the 201, and of accelerated mechanization of the work, but without doubt it also stemmed from the mixture of planning, absence of bureaucratic controls, and widespread delegation of production responsibility to each department.
Perhaps surprisingly, the planning activity was located not at the level of top management, but at that of the management of manufacture. Mattern, the directeur technique, was the creator of two five-year plans, in 1928 and 1938 (the Depression and other events preventing the preparation of an intermediate plan). These plans forecast rates of production, the development of a range of models, the transformation of the factories, the reform of techniques and methods, and also approached social and labor questions.(23)
Even if the 1930s reinforced the role of financiers and controllers, there was a sign here of an era strongly marked by Fordism. The production manager claimed the right to participate in the formulation of overall company objectives in the face of claims by other major departments--general, financial, and commercial. This right was, moreover, based on reason: the more forecasting there was, then the greater was the capacity to intervene in the market. The thinness of the bureuacracy and the religion of direct contact with workers and problems allowed the anticipation of poor functioning and increased the adaptability of the system. Planning of production thus allowed the control of two sides of the equation: that of work and technique and that of the market.
If practice differed among the manufacturers, they nevertheless faced a similar strategic divide between top management and the organization of production. The problem of the manufacture of a "very small vehicle" is instructive in this respect. In 1936, the three large manufacturers agreed not to bring out the 5-horsepower vehicle that they had all been preparing, even though at each company the production managers pushed in the opposite direction.(24) Was this common and chilly decision the result of a new fear on the part of the financiers of a recurrence of the technological and production enthusiasm of the 1920s? The agreement to do nothing slowed down the expansion of the market for popular automobiles in France for fifteen years. A belated move back to the small car in 1938 and 1939 came too late, for the war interrupted a movement that pledged itself to mass production. The Citroen 2CV, which was to have been shown at the Paris Motor Show in autumn 1939, was brought out ten years later.
YVES COHEN is a fellow at the Centre de recherche en histoire des sciences et des techniques in Paris.
An earlier version of this article benefited from discussion at the Economic History Workshop at Harvard University in April 1989. I am grateful to the Directeurs des Relations exterieures (Services photographiques) of Automobiles Peugeot and Automobiles Citroen, who allowed me the use of the photographs they preserve.
1 Patrick Fridenson, "Les premiers conracts entre Louis Renault et Henry Ford," De Renault Freres a Renault Regie nationale 7 (Dec. 1973): 247-50; Jean-Pierre Poitou, "Le voyage de Louis Renault aux Etats-Unis d'avril 1911," ibid. 29 (Dec. 1984): 226-31; Sylvie Schweitzer, Des engrenages a la chaine: Les usines, Citroen, 1915-1935 (Lyon, 1982).
2 James L. Laux, In First Gear: The French Automobile Industry to 1914 (Liverpool, 1976); Jean-Pierre Bardou et al., The Automobile Revolution: The Impact of an Industry (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1982)
3 Schweitzer, Des engrenages a la chaine.
4 Patrick Fridenson, Histoire des usines Renault, vol. 1: Naissance de la grande entreprise, 1898-1939 (Paris, 1972).
5 Daniel Henri, "Comptes, mecomptes et redressement d'une gestion industrielle: les automobiles Peugeot de 1918 a 1930," Revue d'Histoire moderne et contemporaine (Jan.-March 1985): 30-74.
6 See Stephane Rials, Administration et organisation, 1910-1930: De l'organisation de la bataille a la bataille de l'organization dans l' administration francaise (Paris, 1977).
7 See, for example, the books of Victor Cambon, Etats-Unis, France (Paris, 1917); Ou allons-nous? (Paris, 1918); and L'industrie organisee d'apres les methodes americaines: Lecons professees a l'Ecole Centrale des Arts et Manufactures (Paris, 1920).
8 Patrick Fridenson, "The Coming of the Assembly Line to Europe," Sociology of the Sciences (The Dynamics of Science and Technology) (1978), 2: 159-75; Aimee Moutet, "Introduction de la production a la chaine en France du debut de XXeme siecle a la grande crise en 1930," Histoire, economie et societe (Jan.-March 1983): 63-82. See also Duccio Bigazzi, "Gli operai della catena di montaggio: la Fiat 1922-1943," in Annali della Fondazione Giangiacomo Feltrinelli (1979-1980) (Milan, 1981), 895-949.
9 See the remarks of Michel Laferrere, Lyon, ville industrielle: Essai d'une geographie urbaine des techniques et des entreprises (Paris, 1960), 383.
10 Alain Pinol, "Travaile, travailleurs et production aux usines Berliet (1912-1947): Approche du proces de rationalisation" (M.A. thesis, Universite de Lyon, 1980).
11 Pierre Maillard, "Les procedes modernes de montage des chassis d'automobiles: Le montage a la chaine de la 10 HP Renault," Omnia, 3 Sept. 1922, 203.
12 Schweitzer, Des engrenages a la chaine.
13 Yves Cohen, "L'espace de l'organisateur: Ernest Mattern, 1906-1939," Le Mouvement social (L'espace de l'usine) 125 (Oct.-Dec. 1983): 79-96; Yves Cohen and Olivier Cinqualbre, "L'usine de la grande serie: Andre Citroen, quai de Javel," Monuments Historiques 104 (1984): 15-22; Yves Cohen and Olivier Cinqualbre, "Les usines dans l'action d'un grand industriel: Andre Citroen, quai de Javel," unpub. research report, Cellule du Patrimoine industriel de l'nventaire general des Monuments et Richesses artistiques de la France, 1984.
14 Aimme Moutet, "Ingenieurs et rationalisation dans 1'industrie francaise de la Grande Guerre au Front populaire," Culture technique (Les ingenieurs) 12 (March 1984): 137-53.
15 Ernest Mattern, Creation, organisation et direction des usines (Paris, 1925).
16 Archives Mattern, Ernest Mattern, Untitled MS "(Rapport sur sa visite aux usines Peugeot du Doubs"), Feb. 1928.
17 Yves Cohen, "Quand un homme de Peugeot visite Renault (janvier 1939)," Renault-Histoire 1 (Nov. 1989): 9-30.
18 Mattern, "Rapport." See Pierre Rolle, "Norme et chronometrage dans le salaire au rendement," Cahiers d'etude de l'automation et des societes industrielles 4 (1962): 9-38, quoted in Bernard Mottez, Systemes de salaire et politiques patronales: Essai sur l'evolution des pratiques et des ideologies patronales (Paris, 1966), 140 (note).
19 See Alfred D. Chandler, Jr., The Visible Hand: The Managerial Revolution in American Business (Cambridge, Mass., 1977), and David Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development of Manufacturing Technology in the United States (Baltimore, Md., 1984).
20 Henri Fayol, "Administration industrielle et generale," in Bulletin de la Societe de l'Industrie minerale 3 (1916); Donald Reid, "Genes du fayolisme," Sociologie du Travail 19 (Jan.-March. 1986): 75-93, and Reid, "Fayol: exces d'honneur ou exces d'indiginite?" Revue francaise de Gestion 70 (Sept.-Oct. 1988): 151-59.
21 Fridenson, Histoire des usines Renault, 281-83.
22 See Horace L. Arnold and Fay L. Faurote, Ford Methods and the Ford Shops (New York, 1915), 67.
23 Archives Mattern, Ernest Mattern, "Project d'organisation des usines Peugeot concentrees a Montbeliard-Sochaux'' (April 1928), and "Plan quinquennal d'amelioration des usines" (Dec. 1938).
24 Patrick Fridenson, "Genese de l'innovation: la 2CV Citroen,'' Revue francaise de Gestion 70 (Sept.-Oct. 1988): 35-44.
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|Publication:||Business History Review|
|Article Type:||Industry Overview|
|Date:||Dec 22, 1991|
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