Philippe Winthrop today follows up on an Information Weekly post, stating that Blackberry is 'winning the mind share game' - that is, that its brand has become a generic term for any smart phone, or even just a feature phone with a keyboard. At issue: do consumers even care about the mobile OS? Is it about hardware (the newest, sexiest handheld), or the software? I think technology providers (hardware, software, services) need to get over it: it's actually not about them. The question is, what will it do?
It's true that the mobile hardware industry has exploded. The pace of innovation has been breathtaking, and with each innovation that creates a radically new customer experience, consumers haven't been able to wait to finish contracts before upgrading to the new experience. I expect this will continue, until the device limitations bring the user experience to a screeching halt.
Users ultimately want the mobile device to be a digital extension of themselves, for entertainment, shopping, research, communication, news, information -- everything we currently expect from PCs, laptops, and PDAs. Businesses want to be able to equip employees with a single device that enables them to run business apps in the field, stay in touch, and provide GPS capabilities that provide direction as well as keep breadcrumb trails of the employees' movements. Expect a continuing swell of hardware and software upgrades to open new frontiers for consumers and businesses -- who will not care an iota for the brand they're toting. Consumers may call it whatever brand got there first (remember when PDAs were called 'palm pilots' -- even when they weren't made by Palm?), but they'll buy whatever brand has the features they most want at the price point they want to spend. I don't know I'd call that 'winning' - Puffs tissues certainly gained market share even when consumers buying them called them 'Kleenex.'
Eventually, we'll discover that there is a physical limitation we can't get beyond, which is circumscribed by the sensing and manipulation systems of the human body. One of the reasons consumers are so eager to trade up to the latest handheld is that they easily tire of the trade-offs they have to make with their current device. As long as there's a hope that the latest technology will take away a dissatisfier, we'll continue to do that -- at least until we realize that there are only so many characters, in a font size my eyes can read, that will fit on a screen that is portable enough to slip into a pocket. Perhaps that's one reason why the manufacturers are marketing so heavily the use of mobiles for music and messaging: the screen size isn't a limitation for audio applications or short messages, so they can easily make the consumer completely happy. But, as Winthrop notes, this is only a small part of the opportunity, and it is quickly becoming commoditized.
Cloud computing, and SaaS apps built for mobiles, will no doubt continue to attract attention and build markets with consumers and businesses, since they extend the functionality of the device itself. But in the end, until these applications overcome the physical limitations of the device, so that the user interfaces with the device by hearing and speech rather than sight and touch, the extension of mobility into the more exciting frontiers ahead will be stalled.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Re-imagining Presentations
I recently wrote about Umair Haque's work on smart growth. I spent some time today viewing his "Constructive Capitalism" presentation at Daytona, and it's a worthwhile investment of an hour to see it. One persistent thought I had, as I viewed his peripatetic slide flipping, was how ill suited the slide presentation format is to the way we think and speak.
Slides are assembled -- and meant to be displayed -- serially, moving forward one slide at a time. The presenter is supposed to put together a logical progression, the slides becoming a visual exposition. But thought is only artificially a linear progression. To appear polished, we force our thought process into an artificial presentation; the reality is much messier. We think interactively -- even if you're only interacting within your own mind -- and the connections are all over the place. Thinking moves forward, laterally, back, up down, all around. We go back to some ideas over and over again. And so, Haque keeps flipping back to a couple key slides over and over again, and while I appreciated the content, the experience could be disorienting at times.
This isn't the fault of the presenter - it's the fault of the ubiquitous presentation technology that we all use. I found myself wishing for the next generation of presentation technology. The presenter would have a command screen, with thumbnails of his slides. He would be able to move the thumbnails around to group them at will - and tap the one he wants to display it to the audience, push off the the side any that he's not interested in showing (now). The speaker notes would appear (for the presenter only) with a touch. The software would, in essence, work organically, like our minds do.
I'm sure there are speakers who like the imposed structure of the slide deck. It's the electronic facsimile of the old stack of note cards we used in school presentations: a compromise between reading a prepared speech and speaking ex tempore. But for people who don't want to read their presentation, who rather want to think on their feet and interact with the moment and the audience, we need another tool. How alert an audience would be, if rather than reading through a presenter's slideshow, we were offered the opportunity to engage with the mind of a presenter with something of interest to share. Seems like technology could support this, rather than defeat it.
Slides are assembled -- and meant to be displayed -- serially, moving forward one slide at a time. The presenter is supposed to put together a logical progression, the slides becoming a visual exposition. But thought is only artificially a linear progression. To appear polished, we force our thought process into an artificial presentation; the reality is much messier. We think interactively -- even if you're only interacting within your own mind -- and the connections are all over the place. Thinking moves forward, laterally, back, up down, all around. We go back to some ideas over and over again. And so, Haque keeps flipping back to a couple key slides over and over again, and while I appreciated the content, the experience could be disorienting at times.
This isn't the fault of the presenter - it's the fault of the ubiquitous presentation technology that we all use. I found myself wishing for the next generation of presentation technology. The presenter would have a command screen, with thumbnails of his slides. He would be able to move the thumbnails around to group them at will - and tap the one he wants to display it to the audience, push off the the side any that he's not interested in showing (now). The speaker notes would appear (for the presenter only) with a touch. The software would, in essence, work organically, like our minds do.
I'm sure there are speakers who like the imposed structure of the slide deck. It's the electronic facsimile of the old stack of note cards we used in school presentations: a compromise between reading a prepared speech and speaking ex tempore. But for people who don't want to read their presentation, who rather want to think on their feet and interact with the moment and the audience, we need another tool. How alert an audience would be, if rather than reading through a presenter's slideshow, we were offered the opportunity to engage with the mind of a presenter with something of interest to share. Seems like technology could support this, rather than defeat it.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Price reductions: What a concept
Discussing a category's performance last week, an executive mentioned the pressure that rising oil prices had placed on the category's profitability over the past year. Foam is petroleum-based, so upholstery and mattress manufacturers had passed along the increase of their raw materials to retailers over the past year. Our business absorbs cost increases as best it can before passing them along to our customers, and margins have been uncomfortably tight. The follow-up question was unavoidable: so, since oil prices have been low for months, we'll start seeing price reductions, won't we? Actually, no. They never reduce the price of a product; instead they'll introduce a new model at a lower price.
Our best selling sofa is a great deal for our customers, and it's been a best seller since it was introduced a couple years ago. Demand continues to be very strong. Yet the normally slim margin we make on it has become a sliver, due to price increases in 2008. How would it make sense to drop an item that our customers love, and replace it with a new, rationalized-cost model that customers may or may not like? I can't see that there's a winner in any corner: not the manufacturer, whose new item cannibalizes the old top seller, and risks lower return on the new model. Not the customer, who sees favorites taken away.
This was the beauty of Wal-Mart's 'roll-back pricing' marketing campaign: what a differentiator! The prevailing belief is that prices can only go up unless you have failed in some way: liquidations, over stocks, distressed goods qualify for reduced pricing. Perhaps the belief is that the consumer will assume that there's something wrong with the item if its price is reduced. This belief takes demand out of the system, it perpetuates a disposable consumer mindset, it is patently destructive. Yet, most of the retail market follows it in lock step.
As we survey a retail environment that is engulfed by economic disaster and uncertainty, it is time to think critically and clearly about the entire supply chain: what can we do to enhance value for all? where can we eliminate practices that destroy value? It is no longer the case that the consumer will rationalize the increase for us; it's our turn.
Our best selling sofa is a great deal for our customers, and it's been a best seller since it was introduced a couple years ago. Demand continues to be very strong. Yet the normally slim margin we make on it has become a sliver, due to price increases in 2008. How would it make sense to drop an item that our customers love, and replace it with a new, rationalized-cost model that customers may or may not like? I can't see that there's a winner in any corner: not the manufacturer, whose new item cannibalizes the old top seller, and risks lower return on the new model. Not the customer, who sees favorites taken away.
This was the beauty of Wal-Mart's 'roll-back pricing' marketing campaign: what a differentiator! The prevailing belief is that prices can only go up unless you have failed in some way: liquidations, over stocks, distressed goods qualify for reduced pricing. Perhaps the belief is that the consumer will assume that there's something wrong with the item if its price is reduced. This belief takes demand out of the system, it perpetuates a disposable consumer mindset, it is patently destructive. Yet, most of the retail market follows it in lock step.
As we survey a retail environment that is engulfed by economic disaster and uncertainty, it is time to think critically and clearly about the entire supply chain: what can we do to enhance value for all? where can we eliminate practices that destroy value? It is no longer the case that the consumer will rationalize the increase for us; it's our turn.
Monday, February 2, 2009
More on smart growth
Still thinking about 'smart growth,' and implications in my own world. I've been working on an organizational development initiative lately, developing and implementing a professional growth program with business unit managers. The curriculum offers no operational or technical competencies; instead it addresses the professional skills required for top-level management and executive leadership. The company is making an investment in their growth, which is, I admit to them, completely portable. They are free to take the skills they acquire into any aspect of their lives, and into a career with another company if they choose. The managers have to make an investment too -- the largest of which is letting go those beliefs we all treasure about ourselves, which ultimately hold us back in self-delusion. They have to take risks and be willing to become a perpetual student. Despite being asked to engage in a very challenging process, every manager has responded not only positively but enthusiastically. In their responses there is, perhaps, a hint of wonder as to why the company is doing this.
Obviously, companies invest in organizational development because they hope to attract qualified candidates, retain high performers, and increase the effectiveness of employees. Not a lot of mystery there. And yet.... the op/ed pages are filled these days with heated debate on the stratospheric bonuses on Wall Street. Certainly, investment firms have believed something quite opposite: you can only attract the best talent if you throw obscene amounts of money at the best and the brightest; extreme compensation is necessary to compensate staff for giving over their lives to the job; talent will leave unless you handcuff them with money. Inside the persistent Wall St worldview, I suppose this rationalization all makes sense. Yet, most other businesses realized long ago that money is not a motivator, and they routinely attract talented staff who give their all to jobs in which growth is measured not only financially but also personally and professionally. The proof of course is in the result, and I guess we can all now see that these Wall St beliefs have outlasted their results. They are still hanging on to definitions of growth that have ceased to function. "It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends on his not understanding it" (Upton Sinclair).
So, can we find a paradigm with organizational development that's extensible outside the company, that could transform the entire supply chain? It would be transformative to progress beyond a transaction-based relationship between the retailer & customer, or supplier & retailer (and maybe even contemplate the retailer enabling a supplier-customer relationship, without fear of disintermediation). If the measurement is not how much money one party has made off the other, but where both parties have gained, what could be different? Instead of being frustrated with suppliers who lack technological sophistication, perhaps we invest in helping them gain it -- more for both of us, and we'll risk the supplier using this to advantage with our competitors. Rather than a vendor scorecard that flags every failure, perhaps we should document the vendor's contribution to our growth, and spend more of our time understanding how that happens. Imagine a root cause analysis of exceeding plan: potentially, there's much more to be learned with this than with fault analysis, yet how often do we (ever?) interrogate successes?
Rethinking how the business connects with the consumer is more of a challenge - how many customers does any business really have, and how varied are their needs and goals? This will take some time, but we don't have to start from scratch. Most businesses have a lofty, socially-conscious mission statement. From it, they create the business plans and objectives, and the business becomes focused on achieving those measurements. The mission statement becomes a slide in the corporate Powerpoint deck. Chances are, if you go back and read that mission statement, your opportunities for smart growth are embedded in it.
Obviously, companies invest in organizational development because they hope to attract qualified candidates, retain high performers, and increase the effectiveness of employees. Not a lot of mystery there. And yet.... the op/ed pages are filled these days with heated debate on the stratospheric bonuses on Wall Street. Certainly, investment firms have believed something quite opposite: you can only attract the best talent if you throw obscene amounts of money at the best and the brightest; extreme compensation is necessary to compensate staff for giving over their lives to the job; talent will leave unless you handcuff them with money. Inside the persistent Wall St worldview, I suppose this rationalization all makes sense. Yet, most other businesses realized long ago that money is not a motivator, and they routinely attract talented staff who give their all to jobs in which growth is measured not only financially but also personally and professionally. The proof of course is in the result, and I guess we can all now see that these Wall St beliefs have outlasted their results. They are still hanging on to definitions of growth that have ceased to function. "It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends on his not understanding it" (Upton Sinclair).
So, can we find a paradigm with organizational development that's extensible outside the company, that could transform the entire supply chain? It would be transformative to progress beyond a transaction-based relationship between the retailer & customer, or supplier & retailer (and maybe even contemplate the retailer enabling a supplier-customer relationship, without fear of disintermediation). If the measurement is not how much money one party has made off the other, but where both parties have gained, what could be different? Instead of being frustrated with suppliers who lack technological sophistication, perhaps we invest in helping them gain it -- more for both of us, and we'll risk the supplier using this to advantage with our competitors. Rather than a vendor scorecard that flags every failure, perhaps we should document the vendor's contribution to our growth, and spend more of our time understanding how that happens. Imagine a root cause analysis of exceeding plan: potentially, there's much more to be learned with this than with fault analysis, yet how often do we (ever?) interrogate successes?
Rethinking how the business connects with the consumer is more of a challenge - how many customers does any business really have, and how varied are their needs and goals? This will take some time, but we don't have to start from scratch. Most businesses have a lofty, socially-conscious mission statement. From it, they create the business plans and objectives, and the business becomes focused on achieving those measurements. The mission statement becomes a slide in the corporate Powerpoint deck. Chances are, if you go back and read that mission statement, your opportunities for smart growth are embedded in it.
Consumed
Last week, my teenage daughter shared a discussion on social hierarchies from her government class. The teacher had posed two different societies and asked a show of hands on which society the students preferred: one society consisted only of a very wealthy class and a very poor class; the other had three levels of middle class but no extremes. My daughter was confused with the students' responses: most of them preferred the first society. She saw that this society would offer no potential for mobility, and its inherent division disturbed her. As best she could tell, kids were attracted to the potential of a huge upside, if you were fortunate enough at birth. To them, the world is just one big reality game show -- the risk of a big payoff is worthwhile, presumably because they have no understanding of consequences. And, they have gleaned from their society that winning big means everything, even if it means also that someone else loses.
I was thinking about this when I read a very insightful post, "The Smart Growth Manifesto", by Umair Haque. No doubt kids are influenced by their television viewing and the marketing that saturate their lives. But these are just manifestations of the consumerist worldview that has shaped not only economic models and business strategy but also our social constructs. It informs the policies our government is crafting to cope with the current meltdown, and the public's perception of them. How else can stimulus and bailout become conflated in peoples' minds, unless stimulus is understood to be another form of pay-out? There seems to be little comprehension in our current thinking of the difference between income and outcome, and hence no understanding why a person would not want the chance to be one of the top sliver of society who own most of the society's wealth. According to JD Trout, we have this capacity to use our empathy selectively as long as we don't have to confront it:
Considering what 'smart growth' might look like when applied to your own business is both challenging and liberating. Successful outcomes don't require that you run your business as a philanthropy. But it does mean putting relationships (with customers, employees, suppliers) front and center, and using financials as the scorecards they are to run the business responsibly. It requires thinking about the investments we make -- in all of those relationships -- and not about consuming. I work in the retail sector: this almost sounds heretical. So be it. If we continue to use a consumption model, we can only expect remorse for allowing business to eat itself.
I was thinking about this when I read a very insightful post, "The Smart Growth Manifesto", by Umair Haque. No doubt kids are influenced by their television viewing and the marketing that saturate their lives. But these are just manifestations of the consumerist worldview that has shaped not only economic models and business strategy but also our social constructs. It informs the policies our government is crafting to cope with the current meltdown, and the public's perception of them. How else can stimulus and bailout become conflated in peoples' minds, unless stimulus is understood to be another form of pay-out? There seems to be little comprehension in our current thinking of the difference between income and outcome, and hence no understanding why a person would not want the chance to be one of the top sliver of society who own most of the society's wealth. According to JD Trout, we have this capacity to use our empathy selectively as long as we don't have to confront it:
Why do you think people tend to feel more empathy for a puppy with a hurt paw than for a person without health insurance?
Part of the reason is banal. Ease of visualization. The person without health care is likely to appear as a statistic, one among 50 million others.
Considering what 'smart growth' might look like when applied to your own business is both challenging and liberating. Successful outcomes don't require that you run your business as a philanthropy. But it does mean putting relationships (with customers, employees, suppliers) front and center, and using financials as the scorecards they are to run the business responsibly. It requires thinking about the investments we make -- in all of those relationships -- and not about consuming. I work in the retail sector: this almost sounds heretical. So be it. If we continue to use a consumption model, we can only expect remorse for allowing business to eat itself.
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