Just like the refried beans from last night’s Mexican dinner, Lee Iacocca is back doing commercials for his alma mater Chrysler. Should we rejoice that the last real American leader of Chrysler Corp. is back in the saddle and encouraging buyers to take advantage of Chrysler’s answer to GM’s employee pricing campaign? Or should we reach for the Tums and hope the gassy, bloated feeling goes away without too much discomfort for us – or those with sensitive olfactory glands? It’s a tough call.

Few remember that it was Lee Iacocca who introduced the auto industry to its own form of crack cocaine: rebates. Without them, Chrysler would have been unable to shift thousands of unsold cars to a public that didn’t want them, and who thought Chrysler was on its last legs. After all, a company that takes a bailout from the federal government rather than the more palatable loan sharks must be at death’s door with no hope of recovery.

Nonetheless, the rebate idea worked. Americans are suckers for a deal, and Iacocca was the salesman who could bait the hook. You could almost see the thoughts forming in people’s minds, like thought bubbles over the head of cartoon characters: “Gee, the company may be going under and the cars aren’t all that exciting, but – gosh darn it – putting $1,500 on the hood makes it a darn good deal. I’d be crazy not to take it.” At the time, the question was whether the incentives were a deal, or bait that could snag an unsuspecting consumer.

In the end, the ones snagged were the automakers themselves. Reeling from the lingering effects of 20% interest rates and a burgeoning recession, every domestic automaker jumped – “leaped” would be a more accurate term – onto the bandwagon and offered their own incentive package. And, looking out over the lots of Fairmonts, Citations, and slab-sided holdovers from the gas crisis days – who could blame executives for believing this was the only way out? They had an obligation to move the metal, and bribing – er, encouraging – buyers to drive one home by lowering the transaction price without upsetting the fiction that retail prices would soon return to the MSRP on the window sticker seemed like a good deal.

Only it wasn’t the only obligation these managers had. Their first obligation was to build products that met and exceeded the customer’s needs, had a level of desire attached to them, and competed head-on with the foreign makes. Their second obligation was to negotiate labor agreements that protected the workers at a reasonable cost, but allowed enough flexibility to fulfill the first obligation. Their third obligation was to cut the bloat within their companies so the decision makers were closer to the customer, and more clearly responsible for any failures. But, hey, what are obligations when there’s money to bemade and you can stick the next guy with the problem? As a result, rebates became the answer to what most certainly was the wrong question, and guided the domestic industry on a road it has yet to find an exit from.

Today, “employee pricing” has temporarily replaced rebates – though, in some cases, you can get both – and Detroit appears to be entering another era of discounting that promises to make the rebate era look like the “good old days.” Who better, then, to make certain the American public gets the message of Detroit’s latest self-destructive urge than that Robespierre of Rebates, Lee Iacocca, and his new sidekick, Seinfeld’s Jason Alexander?

Please, someone, hand me the Tums.