Turnover has doubled since he took over as CEO of Caparo, his family's manufacturing business. But Angad Paul's desire to add value to all parts of his life has also meant producing award-winning films and making top-end furniture

Angad Paul turns his computer screen round excitedly to show me a video. It's a promotional film for the Caparo T1, his firm's odd-looking but impressive racing car. "Ooh, wait, this is a good bit," he enthuses, in a way that suggests excited teenager more than industrialist. But a glance around his office—with its framed posters for films and the T1—suggests that although Paul is CEO of steel component manufacturer Caparo, there is more to his world than metal bashing.

As we watch, the T1's vital statistics—acceleration of 0-60 in 2.5 seconds and a power-to-weight ratio double that of the Bugatti Veyron—flash up on the screen. It's impressive stuff. But the car has had problems. Designed by Ben Scott-Geddes and Graham Halstead, former McLaren engineers responsible for the legendary F1 supercar, the T1 has misbehaved in public. Racing driver Jason Plato suffered burns when the car burst into flames at 150mph while he was reviewing it for Channel Five's Fifth Gear last year; part of the floor came loose while Jeremy Clarkson was driving it for the BBC's Top Gear; and the throttle got stuck open on its debut at the Goodwood Festival of Speed.

But the general response to the T1—effectively a road-legal racing car—has been "wow". Part of the excitement stems from the fact that the car offers "F1 performance from a British world-class team". The video shows that 80 per cent of it is made within Caparo facilities. While this is a justifiable source of pride, the price—£190,000 plus tax—is a disappointment.

But the price is part of Paul's plan to see Caparo—the business he took over from his father, Lord Paul of Marylebone, in 2002—focus on products with added value. In fact, Paul is so keen on the concept of added value that during our 90-minute conversation he uses the phrase 15 times. Quite early on, he makes the following bold statement: "I believe that in life, first and foremost, the only reason for your existence is if you are going to add value. Otherwise you are a waste of space."

He's certainly taken his own message to heart. When he took over Caparo in 2002, a year he describes as "the worst ever for manufacturing in this country", the business employed 3,000 people and had a turnover of £330m. Five years later, both figures have doubled. Turnover was £660m in 2006 and should rise to £725m for 2007. By 2010, he's confident it will be a £1bn business. The number of employees has also doubled to 6,500 and by 2010 that figure will be over 10,000.

But the growth of Caparo's main business is just part of the story. The car and the film posters, not to mention the ultra-modern designer furniture around the office, are all testimony to the extraordinary range of Paul's interests. He has an active film production company, AV Pictures, and was executive producer on the movies in the posters (including Guy Ritchie's Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels). The funky furniture, meanwhile, is down to his role as chairman and co-founder of Established & Sons, which turns out desirable and eye-wateringly expensive furniture by top-name British designers, much of it made by Caparo. It all fits with Paul's stated mission of making Caparo "the quality manufacturer of choice". But how does he manage to combine so many interests?

He begins a serious answer about management philosophy, then stops. "A lot of people wonder how and why I do it," he says. "Maybe I've got ADD [attention deficit disorder] or something, but I need to be doing lots of different things at once." Then it's back to the MBA-speak. "As a private company you have to develop a management philosophy and apply that philosophy to areas where you think you can add value. Making a film is a lot like building a factory, in terms of putting it together. Design engineering is as much about execution as it is about communication. I was brought up on the adage that there are no bad businesses, only bad managements. The problem in this country has been lack of good management."

With his overview, he should know. "The creative industries haven't been managed as well as they could be, for the most part, while traditional industry has been forgotten because it isn't sexy," he says. "The best thing I can do is work in a traditional industry and find a way of making it current. I want to make it more attractive—hence projects like the T1. All of a sudden, people are excited to come and work for us, because they see these products."

This desire to inspire Caparo's employees played a part in his decision to help launch Established & Sons, although he says he has had a passion for furniture and product design from a young age. He met Alasdhair Willis, the chief executive and driving force behind Established & Sons, through a mutual friend, who had worked for years with Willis's wife, fashion designer Stella McCartney. Willis's ambition for a British furniture brand matched up with Paul's facilities, and Caparo currently makes about 60 per cent of Established's output. But Paul wants to spread the work around. "I would like Established & Sons to be a catalyst for UK manufacturing," he says. "It's about British designers and British manufacturing."

But while Willis wants all products to keep the "made in Britain" stamp, Paul's mind is on markets elsewhere. And that naturally includes his family's country of origin, India. High import duties mean it could make more sense to set up an operation over there, using Indian designers and manufacturers.

"If you can ensure the quality and tap into the emerging design talent, should you take your brand there or set up another, diffusion brand?"
This desire to exploit the potential of his father's homeland, with its "massive wealth growth", has played a large part in the revival of Caparo in recent years. Although he is the first of his family to be born outside India, Paul was responsible for taking the business there in 1993, not long after he joined.

"I took it on a very personal level. I'd spent a lot of time in India, and I wanted to get closer to the country."

The decision led to a few difficult years for Caparo. "We went through a boom time, then a bust time, then a boom, but I stuck with it and now we've built a pretty strong reputation as the quality manufacturer of choice. As of 2009, we'll be the largest automotive components company in India, with the biggest spread of products. We've achieved a lot of good milestones there."

These milestones include major contracts from Honda, General Motors and Indian firm Tata Motors, as well as work for Nissan and Toyota. Indeed, Paul claims Caparo is the only company doing business with every car-maker in India—something that evidently gives him a great deal of satisfaction.

But that's not to say he doesn't see possibilities at home. "We are growing Caparo in the UK. In 2006, I bought 22 companies here." With all this growth, I wonder what similarity today's Caparo bears to the business Paul took over from his father, who remains the chairman.

"The philosophy is the same, because I inherited that from my father. Culturally and in terms of what we do, we are a consolidated engineering and design engineering company. But we've gone into different fields. When I took it over, we were essentially a manufacturer of steel products and engineered products. Now we're more sub-assembly and systems and design engineering. And we're more of a brand."

Christopher Moir, principal fellow (economics) at the Warwick Manufacturing Group, suggests that Paul is right to focus on complex work and quality. "Within the automotive sector, the big firms demand very high standards from suppliers. If you can meet them, you get very well rewarded. But if you produce low-quality components or try to compete on a price basis, you don't stand a chance. We're also seeing a lot more integration of manufacturing and services, so that manufacturing firms increasingly offer a service element to what they do."

Paul says part of his goal with Established & Sons is to achieve something different from his father. "My biggest adding of value is to do things that would have been outside my father's capabilities," he says. "If he could have done it anyway, then where am I adding value? Established & Sons was an emotive investment, backing people I thought could make it happen. But it could emerge as a fabulous diversification. It's about British quality manufacture. The whole notion behind the name is harking back to a time when Britain was appreciated for quality and realising that it still exists."

So how do the businesses interact? Although Paul refuses to go into detail on Caparo's "more than meaningful stake", it's clear that it is not an investment made lightly. "I am chairman of Established & Sons and I guide the business side," he says. "My deal was that I leave the creative element to them, but the strategic direction comes from Caparo. It makes sense for us to provide financial disciplines and management."

Paul is clearly a driven and competent leader who knows what he wants from the business. But he dismisses the notion that a good business is just about the leader. "You've got to gain in confidence but try and eliminate the ego from the whole battle of doing business," he says at one point.
Then, a little later, he confides: "This may sound nuts, but I've boiled it down to the fact that there are only two types of people—winners and losers. The key is that if you can understand your abilities and be happy with what you've got, you are a winner. What leadership should be doing is providing more winners—not winning themselves, but making provision for more winners. Providing a platform for others. You've got to understand that you achieve more by having confidence and shedding the ego than vice versa."

Perhaps this desire to see others succeed stems from being in a family business. "You are only limited by your imagination and your ability to execute. I love that whole Patek Philippe ad about not owning a Patek, just looking after it for a future generation. Because that's what business is. You never own it." Naturally, he's just bought himself a Patek.