Philip Caldwell, the button-down manager chosen over Lee A. Iacocca to become the first head of the Ford Motor Company who was not a member of the Ford family, died on Wednesday at his home in New Canaan, Conn. He was 93.

The cause was complications of a stroke, his family said.

Mr. Caldwell was known as a prodigious worker with a knack for restoring floundering divisions of Ford to financial health. He guided the company through some of its most difficult years in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when all of Detroit struggled to cope with a sour economy, high gas prices and the first sustained onslaught by Japanese automakers.

He left his mark more on the company’s bottom line than its product line, turning the record losses of more than $1.5 billion that Ford recorded in 1980, his first full year as chief executive, into record profits of $2.9 billion in 1984. At the same time his management team — including his labor chief, Peter J. Pestillo — greatly improved Ford’s strained relations with its unions. And he laid the groundwork for the company’s biggest success in a generation: the Taurus, the top-selling car of the late ’80s and ’90s.

Mr. Caldwell, who spent a total of 37 years at Ford, never developed a reputation as a “car guy,” someone motivated by a passion for automotive design and engineering or the thrill of driving. Nor was he a salesman at heart, as many auto executives are.

Rather, he rose to the top as a manager who could handle tough assignments, overhauling one struggling business unit after another by cutting costs and ratcheting up productivity and profits, most notably in the truck division, the Philco electronics subsidiary and Ford’s overseas operations.

By the 1970s, Mr. Caldwell was one of Henry Ford II’s most loyal and trusted lieutenants. But he was almost unknown outside the company — in stark contrast to the larger-than-life Mr. Iacocca, who famously rode the success of the Mustang in the 1960s to the presidency of Ford, the No. 2 post, but who came to be seen by Mr. Ford as more rival than colleague.

Outsiders were stunned when Mr. Ford dismissed Mr. Iacocca in 1977 and elevated Mr. Caldwell instead, first to vice chairman and later to chief executive and chairman.

Mr. Ford, grandson of the company’s founder, kept an important role on the board throughout Mr. Caldwell’s tenure, leading some observers to wonder how much freedom of action Mr. Caldwell really had, despite his titles. But in interviews around the time of his retirement as chief executive in February 1985, Mr. Caldwell insisted that Mr. Ford had never tried to interfere or tell him how to run the company.

Born in the tiny farming town of Bourneville, Ohio, on Jan. 27, 1920, Mr. Caldwell studied economics 80 miles away at Muskingum College (now Muskingum University) and graduated in 1940, three years ahead of John Glenn, the astronaut and politician.

He was completing an M.B.A. at Harvard when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, prompting him to enlist in the Navy and serve as a lieutenant in the Pacific.

When the war ended in 1945, he stayed with the Navy in a civilian job as a procurement manager and married Betsey Chinn Clark. She and their three children, Lawrence, Lucy H. Caldwell-Stair and Désirée C. Armitage, survive him, as do six grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Mr. Caldwell left the Navy after the Korean War in 1953 to join Ford. He often said afterward that his Navy experience had shaped his approach to business, in which he emphasized discipline and efficiency.

It also shaped his approach to life in general. He seemed most comfortable in formal settings and was rarely seen in public out of his uniform of conservative business attire. He did not smoke or drink and exhibited none of the flamboyance of other leading Detroit figures of his time, like Mr. Ford, Mr. Iacocca and John Z. DeLorean, the protean “car guy” then cutting a swath at General Motors.

About as wild and crazy as Mr. Caldwell was ever said to get was an occasional recreational spin around the Ford test track at the wheel of a tractor-trailer. He filled his home and his office at Ford with 18th-century American antiques, and his civic and cultural activities included serving as a trustee of his alma mater and of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra.

His retirement was an active one. He remained on Ford’s board for five more years after stepping down as chief executive a few days past his 65th birthday. He also worked in investment banking as a managing director at Shearson Lehman Brothers, joined the Council on Foreign Relations and served on the boards of a number of public companies as well as the executive recruitment firm Russell Reynolds Associates.

In 1990, the Harvard Business School named a chair in business administration in his honor.