Wild article in WSJ. Vitech's PCs Establish Market Share in Brazil September 16, 1998
By PETER FRITSCH Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
ILHEUS, Brazil -- The sweet scent of chocolate spreads across the steamy Brazilian jungle and into an old cacao-crushing shed where hundreds of workers, mostly women, are busy building personal computers. They earn as little as $163 a month -- a decent wage in a region where unemployment shot to 45% after disease wiped out what was once the world's largest cacao crop.
Presiding in Portuguese over this scene is the unlikely figure of Georges St. Laurent III. The eccentric scion of the family that once owned Sterno canned-heat, Mr. St. Laurent has worked at the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration, published a scholarly article in molecular biology as a Yale undergraduate, made millions as an options trader and was "cured" of a life-threatening illness by a Colombian healer who pulled 14 of his teeth and stuck needles in his liver.
Today, the gaunt 37-year-old American lives on a two-mile stretch of Brazilian beach, drinks coconut milk from the shell and has two children by a former girlfriend in Espirito Santo. He carries a pendulum in his pocket to measure "auras," and his office wall displays a chart explaining how to assess someone's internal organs by looking at his iris. Mr. St. Laurent's company also happens to sell more personal computers in Brazil than anyone but Compaq Computer Corp. And if recent trends continue, the Miami company of which he is chairman and chief executive officer --Vitech America Inc. -- will be Brazil's leading PC seller sometime next year.
Success in high-risk emerging markets never comes easy and can be especially fleeting in the mercurial world of high technology. But as Vitech's often wild Brazilian adventure illustrates, total immersion in a market and the ability to adapt quickly to its fickle rules can reward a company with the kind of market share it could never hope to win in the developed world. And as Mr. St. Laurent will attest, it helps if you are a bit crazy. "We're like the Viet Cong," he says. "We're so weird and alien, the big guys never see us coming."
Big Local Brands
That turns out to be true in many of the world's largest emerging economies. "Local heroes," as scrappy local PC makers are known, are relegating the biggest names in personal computing to secondary positions in places like China, Russia and Brazil. A Hong Kong company, Legend Holdings Ltd., is the largest seller of PCs on mainland China, having overcome years of International Business Machines Corp. and Compaq hegemony. In Russia, local brand VIST Ltd. is the top seller of PCs, according to International Data Corp. In Brazil, Vitech is followed by Itautec SA, another strong local brand.
"Because of their agility and knowledge of the market, local computer makers have the potential to be the real technology drivers" overseas, says Craig Barrett, Intel Corp.'s president and chief executive officer. Indeed, Mr. Barrett recently sat down for 90 minutes with Mr. St. Laurent at Vitech's Sao Paulo office. His interest wasn't casual: While Intel dominates the market for computer chips in the developed world, the giant faces stiff competition elsewhere and needs companies like Vitech -- its largest customer in Brazil -- to catch up.
Of course, the multinationals aren't about to throw in the towel. Though Compaq and IBM have lost significant market share in Brazil's $2.7 billion a year PC market, they still hold a strong share of the remaining $5.3 billion information-technology market, where Vitech is only beginning to make inroads. Multinationals also have the muscle to weather downturns such as those now gripping emerging markets world-wide. And aggressive newcomers like Dell Computer Corp. are sure to give Vitech a run for its money.
Weekly Installments
But the big boys will have a hard time competing with the likes of Gibson Barreto. The independent Vitech sales agent is making cold calls one afternoon in a poor neighborhood of Salvador, a colonial city on the Atlantic coast. He talks Claudio Souza de Araujo, an upholsterer, into buying a loaded PC with a fax/modem and CD-ROM drive. Mr. Souza will make a down payment of $12.80 when his computer arrives and equal weekly payments for three years. "It'll be tough, but I want my kids to have a better life than this," says the barefoot worker, who gets a free water filter for his purchase. "Helps avoid cholera," says Mr. Barreto, who gets a 2% commission on the sale.
Selling computers on credit to people like Mr. Souza can be risky in a country where a few years ago four-digit inflation destroyed the purchasing power of such consumers. But given the unconventional path that brought Mr. St. Laurent to Brazil, it isn't surprising that Vitech is willing to take chances others would not.
Yale classmates most remember Mr. St. Laurent for the red Maserati he used to drive around New Haven, a gift from a successful father. "I was really the most arrogant, awful person you'd want to meet," he allows. He was also one of the brightest. In 1983, at the age of 22, his work in molecular biology landed him in the respected scientific journal Cell, with the following page-turner: "Interferon Action-Two (2'5')(A)n Synthetases Specified By Distinct mRNAs in Ehrlich Ascites Tumor Cells Treated with Interferon." His father's stern reaction: "He wanted to know when I was going to start making a real living," he says.
Bitter and depressed, Mr. St. Laurent made financial independence his top priority. In 1984, he sold some stock and a coin collection he had kept since age seven for $125,000 in seed capital and began trading futures on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. Things went badly until he discovered currency options. "I took one look and saw it was just the Second Law of Thermodynamics," he says. In nine months in 1985, he grossed $1.3 million.
Variously Diagnosed
Poised to make serious money, Mr. St. Laurent suddenly lost his voice. Chronic dizziness and diarrhea set in. Doctors puzzled over his symptoms, and his trading business slid. Even the intervention of his father, who sits on the boards of Perkin-Elmer, the scientific-instruments company, and Baxter International, a medical-devices company, did no good. Finally, a close friend suggested his problems were psychological.
A parade of psychiatrists followed, along with lessons from a New York Metropolitan Opera voice coach. A Harvard-trained doctor diagnosed him as having a "toxic aura." He prescribed vitamin C and electro-acupuncture in Baden-Baden, Germany. There, doctors diagnosed a leaky appendix and recommended treatment at an alternative clinic in South America. "It was weird," he says. "But I was dying."
Before long, Mr. St. Laurent was at the Clinica Kirpalamar in the middle of jungle controlled by Colombia's ruthless M-19 guerrillas. There he made friends with a cousin of drug lord Pablo Escobar -- a man he used to investigate as an intern in the DEA's intelligence division. The treatment was radical: Out came his appendix, as well as 14 teeth "contaminated" with mercury amalgam fillings.
When the clinic phoned younger brother William to say that Georges was in Colombia, William suspected a kidnapping. William, who is Vitech's president, boarded a plane to Bogota with a disassembled, stainless-steel 9mm pistol scattered about in his luggage. But instead of trouble, he found an actual clinic in Kirpalamar, staying only long enough to pass out when Dr. German Duque stuck a long needle in Georges's liver. Says father Georges St. Laurent Jr. of this episode in his elder son's life: "I would have gone with a more conventional approach, and I may not have survived."
A Little Flat
Over the next four years, Mr. St. Laurent III lived at the clinic, learning the tricks of natural medicine while recovering. His money running low, he tried to buy and sell emeralds until the local mafia drove him off. He then began trafficking in personal computers on trips back through Miami. Going back to Chicago to trade options "just seemed too two-dimensional at this point," he says.
By 1991, that business had evolved into TNT Systems Inc., a Miami company that exported computer peripherals to Latin America. Soon thereafter, William -- who had just sold a troubled business shipping beef to Japan -- moved to Brazil to build computers under government protection for local manufacturers.
The brothers spent the next several years in emerging-market survival training. TNT found it tougher than it had imagined to collect from customers in Colombia, Panama and Venezuela and couldn't pay suppliers. By 1994, TNT went belly up, owing $2 million to a variety of vendors. Some filed lawsuits and won. IBM has a $600,000 judgment against TNT from this period. The companies are in settlement negotiations.
Meanwhile, the brothers' father had lent them money to start Vitech America in mid-1993. The company began exporting components to William's Brazilian company, Vitoria Tecnologia SA, based in the coastal state of Espirito Santo. Vitoria Tecnologia thrived under state incentives that reduced the company's taxes to zero by tying them to Brazil's then-rampant inflation. But when Brazil introduced a currency-stabilization plan in 1994, inflation all but disappeared, ruining Vitoria Tecnologia's profit margins. "We got burned," says William St. Laurent.
Chance Meeting
Things got even worse when the leftist Workers Party took office in Espirito Santo that same year. Because the St. Laurent brothers had publicly opposed the party, the incoming government refused to renegotiate the incentives. Instead, according to William St. Laurent, officials asked for a $600,000 bribe. A state spokesman denies that. In any event, armed police ended up surrounding Vitoria Tecnologia's factory with machine guns, seizing records and inventory Vitech is still trying to retrieve.
On the verge of calling it quits, Georges St. Laurent III had a chance meeting in early 1995 with the well-connected head of Bahia's cacao institute. Vitech soon cut a deal to build computers in Ilheus under a 10-year tax holiday. The only catch: Vitech had to employ out-of-work cacao workers -- even if machines could do certain jobs more efficiently.
Mr. St. Laurent III moved to Ilheus and began hiring field hands at a fraction of the labor cost in southern states like Sao Paulo. To climb out of their financial hole, the brothers assembled videocassette recorders and TV sets for retail chain Casas Bahia SA. From Casas Bahia they learned the importance of accepting postdated checks -- a common Brazilian practice.
Because Vitech sells direct from the factory via commissioned agents, it avoids the 2.65% tax charged every time a product changes hands in Brazil. Between those savings and the cost benefits of manufacturing in Bahia, Vitech is able to sell at prices 5% to 10% below the familiar U.S. names. That's good news to Jose de Azevedo. A purchasing manager for the Sao Paulo plant of Swedish truck giant Scania AB, Mr. Azevedo says 70% of the plant's PCs are now Vitech, despite a corporate directive to buy Compaq whenever possible. "[Vitech's] prices are too competitive," he says, and a fluid supply chain means he can order a single computer by fax and count on speedy delivery.
Cash Flow Headache
To be sure, the Vitech model isn't perfect. Because the company finances its own customers, it has to administer 1.15 million financial transactions a month and rely on painstaking in-house credit analysis. Also, Messrs. St. Laurent would rather not be responsible for all that inventory floating around Brazil; poor transportation infrastructure leaves them no choice. With a third of sales made on credit to smaller consumers, cash flow is a constant headache. And to stay afloat, the St. Laurent brothers have had to rely on their father's deep pockets. The senior Mr. St. Laurent holds an 18% stake in Vitech.
Then there are the intangibles. Vitech's trucks must travel with armed guards. Labor laws modeled on those of Mussolini's Italy make it nearly impossible to fire inefficient workers. When Brazil's vigilant consumer police recently busted a valued Vitech franchisee for failing to sell Portuguese manuals with Microsoft Corp. golf programs, William St. Laurent had to spring him with a $12,000 payoff.
But Vitech's obstinacy is bearing fruit. It held 8% of the PC market over the first half of this year, second to Compaq's 9.5%, according to IDC. The numbers are catching competitors' attention. IBM may be suing Mr. St. Laurent III in Miami, but a top IBM executive traveled to Ilheus last year to learn Vitech's model. A Compaq executive is due in Ilheus shortly.
The St. Laurents "have had their share of false starts, but that's the price you pay for having the guts to be entrepreneurs in a crazy place like Brazil," says Rui Campos, a former executive with PC maker Microtec SA. "But they've finally got it right."
Return to top of page | Format for printing Copyright c 1998 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
|