A scandal-plagued car dealer attempts a comeback with a new name, new leadership, and old reputations to shake.
In the spring warmth of Nagoya, where weeds now poke through the pavement outside what was once a bustling used car showroom, the past still clings to Big Motor. Once Japan’s top used car sales company, the firm fell spectacularly from grace after revelations of misconduct that ranged from falsifying insurance claims to using herbicides to kill roadside trees. 鈥淭hey dented cars brought in for repairs using golf balls and other tools,鈥 the narrator recounts. 鈥淎ll to inflate insurance claims.鈥
The scandal, which led to a police investigation and arrests, culminated in the resignation of then-president Hiroyuki Kaneshige and his son, Koichi, who had wielded immense internal power. A chilling management handbook handed to employees stated: 鈥淓xecutives must be given whatever authority is needed, including control over life and death decisions of subordinates.鈥
At its peak, Big Motor boasted 250 dealerships and 600 billion yen (S$5.37 billion) in annual sales. Some fifth-year employees earned over 30 million yen annually, while second-year staff saw salaries of nearly 25 million. It was a ruthless, performance-driven environment. 鈥淚t was so unreasonable and chaotic that there鈥檚 a lot to say,鈥 recalls one former employee.
Sales plummeted by more than 80 per cent following the revelations, and trust evaporated. Out of 6,000 staff, one third quit. As financial losses mounted, major trading company Itochu Corporation stepped in, acquiring Big Motor for 40 billion yen. It was a risky move. 鈥淚f there weren鈥檛 [a risk], everyone would do it,鈥 said Masahiro Okafuji, Chairman of Itochu Corporation.
Rebranded as WECARS, the company now operates under a new philosophy. Shinjiro Tanaka, appointed as president by Itochu, began inspecting dealerships nationwide. He was surprised to find a legacy of numerical rankings of sales staff still displayed prominently鈥擲ales Power 992, Purchase Power 496. 鈥淭his isn鈥檛 a video game,鈥 he remarked.
At the Kumagaya dealership in Saitama Prefecture, manager Tsukasa Iijima confesses, 鈥淲e still don鈥檛 really know what鈥檚 going to happen.鈥 The showroom is deserted, and despite the new branding, the stigma remains. A customer, asked why they returned, said: 鈥淢aybe things have actually improved. That鈥檚 how it feels. They seem more proper now.鈥
But not everyone agrees. Ms A, a victim of the earlier misconduct, was told in 2022 that her Audi had to be scrapped and sold it for 10,000 yen. It was later resold for 180,000 yen. Worse, the replacement, a red kei car purchased for 1.3 million yen, was suspected to be flood-damaged. 鈥淚t smells鈥 like rubbish. Or maybe musty dust,鈥 she says bitterly. To her, WECARS is merely 鈥減lating over the same metal.鈥
The organisational overhaul starting with a completely refreshed management team, includes increased transparency in repairs, photographic documentation, and inviting customers into the workshop. Insurance, once a key revenue stream, is now outsourced due to a revoked agency licence. 鈥淔or WECARS, not being able to sell insurance feels like losing one of our weapons,鈥 admits one employee.
In the Utsunomiya dealership, salesperson Tomoyasu Suzuki reveals the human cost of reform. His annual income has dropped by about 3 million yen. 鈥淚t鈥檚 become harder to reach 10 million yen,鈥 he admits, 鈥渂ut I still think WECARS is better. There鈥檚 no pressure chasing me.鈥
Wataru Gouroku, head of corporate planning and a key architect of the Itochu-led rescue, stresses culture over individuals: 鈥淣ow, only those who support the new culture remain. Don鈥檛 write us off. Come visit just once.鈥
He spearheads weekly remote meetings where employees report mistakes openly, something unthinkable in the Big Motor era. 鈥淏ack then, your voice didn鈥檛 get through,鈥 one staff member says. 鈥淚f you spoke up, you got crushed.鈥
Despite cautious optimism, public scepticism persists. 鈥淚t just feels like they鈥檙e messing around again,鈥 says Ms A. 鈥淲hether it鈥檚 Big Motor or WECARS, they are the same thing.鈥
Yet, in mid-March, a curious ritual returns. Employees at a dealership shout 鈥淵es!鈥 together each morning. 鈥淔or me, those things were actually a good part of the old culture,鈥 says Gouroku. 鈥淣ot rejecting everything. But rather keep anything that still serves the customers well.鈥
As used car sales crawl back to 50 per cent of pre-scandal levels, the road ahead remains arduous. 鈥淓ven though I鈥檓 trying so hard, I鈥檓 still not trusted?鈥 asks a disillusioned employee. The answer, perhaps, lies not in a name change, but in the long, unglamorous process of earning back what was lost: trust.