I was a car buff from my childhood, always fascinated by the beautiful invention that was rare in my home town in northern China before World War II. To a little boy, the smell of the car's funny exhaust was sweeter than a rose. It was a dream to one day get myself behind the wheel.

That dream came true in 1969 in Taipei, when I traded in my Yamaguchi, a clanking 50cc motorbike, for a second-hand Mercury Comet, a four-door sedan by Ford. Private cars were a rarity at that time, when you could park the vehicle anywhere you wanted to. You belonged to a coveted "car-owning class." Comet, you know, had two sexy fins, which were cool in the late 1950s and early 60s.

But my love affair with American cars started in the 70s when I pursued my MA degree in the United States. I bought a used Mercury Grand Marquis, a well-appointed behemoth pre-owned by a professor at the University of Missouri. It ran silky smooth and was powerful, sturdy as a tank. A gas guzzler? Yes. But gas was dirt cheap, cheaper than water (mineral, I mean) these days, at around 25 cents a gallon. A fill-up cost five bucks. In 1976, I bought my first new car when I got a job in New York -- a Dodge Aspen stationwagon. Unfortunately, it was a lemon. Years later when I worked in L.A., I drove a Buick Century and a Chevy Nova. My loyalty to Detroit never wavered -- until I drove a Japanese Subaru Legend in Ottawa in the early 90s.

So, it was with a sense of sadness and nostalgia that I am watching the decline of Detroit in the face of foreign competition. For almost a century, Detroit has been the symbol of American prowess in manufacturing. General Motors, in particular, has been an American icon. Remember the proverbial saying, "What's good for GM is good for America?" That was true in the golden years of Americana after World War II. Detroit then had more than three titans -- GM, Ford and Chrysler. It also had Studebaker and American Motors, which also made fabulous cars. They roamed the earth with unchallenged authority and dominance. America, after all, was recognized as the indisputable "Automobile Empire."

Now that empire is crumbling down, inexorably. Detroit, which symbolized American ingenuity, has suddenly become a dirty word, like Wall Street. How unbelievable! Now, the emperors and barons of the vast, mighty auto empire, together with Wall Street's Gordon Gekko's, are begging Uncle Sam for help, lest they go down the drain. Strangely enough, the majority of American people appear indifferent and even resentful, refusing to extend a helping hand to Detroit, which President-elect Barack Obama called "the backbone of American manufacturing industry" which he says deserves succor.

If Detroit is so vital to America's economy, why do people appear so unsympathetic? The Big 3 employ 250,000 people directly, plus 2.3 million people indirectly -- working in related businesses.

To let the Big 3 go belly-up would have disastrous consequences. They simply are too big to fail.

In fact, Detroit is not asking too much -- a US$25 billion "bridge loan" on top of US$25 billion already approved by Congress for retooling plants to produce fuel-efficient cars. The amount pales in comparison with the US$700 billion rescue fund for Wall Street. Besides, the US$25 billion loan is not a handout. It must be paid back with interest, just as the US$10 billion federal bailout for Chrysler in 1979 when the legendary Lee Iacocca got the loan to save the country's third-largest auto maker from bankruptcy.The uproar against a government bailout for Detroit was understandable. For one thing, it is against the principles of a free market. One may argue the government has no business helping failed industries. If Detroit gets the money, how about other industries struggling to keep their heads above water? Laissez faire capitalism is based on free competition, the survival of the fittest. That's why U.S. President George W. Bush is adamantly against the bailout. Well, Bush has finally done something right.

Opponents to the bailout argue that throwing taxpayer money to Detroit is the wrong prescription for the illness. "It will just delay the inevitable," and Detroit will come back again asking for more.

Sen. Richard Shelby (R-Ala) said this week during a Congressional hearing, at which all the Big 3's CEOs were pleading for money with apocalyptic language and a common message: it's not our fault, and we are the victims of the global financial crisis.

These corporate paupers are super-rich, ironically.

GM's CEO Rich Wagoner earned US$14.4 million in 2007. Ford's Alan Mulally made US$21.7 million last year. Chrysler's Robert Nardelli earned only US$1 in salary, but he got a US$210 million golden parachute when he quit Home Depot in 2007. Those fat cats, who flew to Washington in corporate jets, were begging money from taxpayers. No wonder that their pleas fell on unsympathetic ears. Their chances of getting a Congressional nod appeared slim, given the unfavorable national mood and public opinion.

Detroit is terminally ill. GM has lost US$70 billion since the end of 2004, and its third-quarter loss this year was US$2.5 billion. Its "Jobs Bank," part of a contract with the United Automobile Workers, pays laid-off workers for not working. Its "legacy payments" to retirees' health and welfare benefits are a crushing financial burden. These extra burdens is estimated at US$2,000 per car, putting Detroit at a disadvantage relative to its competitors. Besides, GM can no longer make cars Americans like to drive. It lost out to Toyota this year as the No. 1 in domestic market share. In short, it has lost competitiveness to foreign competitors, due to decades of mismanagement.

Infusion of money does not mean the infusion of managerial wisdom. Nor it is a panacea. You simply cannot use Chinese herbs to treat cancer.

Bankruptcy, though painful in the short term, may be the only cure for Detroit. No business is too big to fail, even such iconic names like GM and Ford. Only from bankruptcy can come a new lease on life to keep the corporate torch burning, like the phoenix rising from the ashes.

On this matter, nobody has said it better than Mitt Romney, the former governor of Massachusetts and a candidate for this year's Republican presidential nomination, who wrote in the New York Times: "If GM, Ford and Chrysler get the bailout, you can kiss the American automotive industry goodbye," and its demise is "virtually guaranteed."

Why? Because with the bailout, Detroit "will stay the course -- the suicidal course of declining market shares, insurmountable labor and retiree burdens, technology atrophy, product inferiority and job losses. Detroit needs a turnaround, not a check."

Then, how to get the turnaround? His answer: "A managed bankruptcy may be the only path to the fundamental restructuring the industry needs. The government should provide guarantees for post-bankruptcy financing and assure car buyers that their warranties are not at risk. In a managed bankruptcy, the federal government would propel newly competitive and viable automakers, rather than seal their fate with a bailout check."