BASEMENT.ORG
Posted by Richard Ziade on December 23, 2009, 03:55PMThe Essential First Step To Blowing Minds
"Less is more."
It's a powerful phrase. It's one of those rare quotes that itself is illustrative of what it's trying to say. If we decompress it, we're really saying something like "If you show less, then each thing you show carries more weight."
Taking the thought a bit further, I'd assert that less isn't only more, "less" is often essential to success. Conversely, "more" often leads to failure. When we release a product, we often want to talk about its power and versatility. Truth is, nobody else wants to hear about that. They want to know – in as simple a manner as possible – why something should matter to them.
A few days ago, Bonnier's Mag+ design concept video was making the rounds. If you haven't seen it yet, here it is:
It's a beautifully produced concept of how a magazine of the future could take shape. What intrigued me isn't what it does. We're fairly close, technically, to pulling off what Bonnier is envisioning. I was more interested in what it didn't propose to do. It isn't:
- A Netbook tablet
- A portable computer
- A Google OS
- A Wifi/3G/Wimax/4G/whatever-enabled device
It's not any of those things. It's purpose is singular and simple to digest: it's a modern form of the magazine. It embodies the casual experience around interacting with a magazine and nothing more.
Many would suggest that this needs to be a browser that can do anything that a Web browser of today could do, but that would actually harm the narrative around the product. Yes, it's a narrow in scope, but that's the power of it.
Rewind back ten years. There were phones out there that were handling email. Some had slide-out keyboards. The Palm Treo was taking hold. If I had proposed to you that I had an idea for a small phone that would effectively become synonymous with portable email, you would've laughed me out of the room. The Blackberry didn't do more than other phones at the time. Instead, it became synonymous with a single basic task: interacting with email on your phone.
Rewind back again. What if I had an idea for a portable device that focused on one single task: recording video. Again, you would've trampled on the idea. "Just about every digital camera lets you record video. Hell, many phones have video!" Again, it would've been tough to stomach the idea of a device that does just one thing. Yet both the Blackberry and Flip Video stories are important lessons.
They teach us not only that less is more, but also that more is an impediment to adoption. People don't want to figure out what to do with your product. They want you to draw a straight line between your product and a simple, digestible purpose. The more "powerful, flexible and versatile" your product is, the more alien it's going to appear to the great majority of people that may take a glance at it.
Ultimately, it's about the "Sentence Test." If you can't convey what your product does in a simple, single sentence, then you've already cast off a huge swath of your potential audience. There's one other wrinkle to this. Lean on what people know and build on that. Everyone knows about the "magazine experience." The Bonnier video resonates because we can make that leap from "today" to their vision of the future.
You may think you have something so mind-blowing that nobody's going to understand it. Their lies the wrinkle. To blow minds, you first have to get inside of them. And to get inside, less isn't only more, it's essential.
Posted by Richard Ziade on December 1, 2009, 05:54PMThe Admiral's Club & The Junkyard: What Would We Pay For In Today's Web?
When new concepts or constructs are introduced to us, we tend to quickly cement our perceptions about them into stereotypes. Over time, these stereotypes firm up and solidify. They become quite difficult to undo.
The Web today is understood to be "free" in the broadest sense. Here's the general stereotype around the Web today:
Don't put toll booths all over the Web. Let me go where I please and don't charge me money to see anything I want. It's ok to advertise because I understand you need to make money somehow, but don't charge me for content.
By "Web" I mean it in the narrower sense: browsing Web pages in your Web browser.
The above is buttressed by the loftier, more romantic notions around freedom (of both choice and information) and the general notion that the Web is the great democratizer of today. Anyone can publish, distribute and consume content on the Web today with very little cost or effort.
Welcome to the Junkyard
With such preconceived notions firmly in place, the people that create and deliver quality content on the Web (and by "quality" I don't mean your sister-in-law's blog) have created what amounts to an experience akin to wading through a junkyard. Ads on top, on the side, sliding down, peeling off, exploding. It's an awful experience.
It's so awful, in fact, that I believe that people will pay good money to experience a different kind of Web. This isn't just about delivering an "ad free" version of the New York Times. It's about creating an experience that is engaging, elegant and worthy of distinction.
We make this distinction all the time in the real world. VIP areas in clubs. First class and business class in airlines. Higher-end versions of all sorts of products from cars to coats to dog food. People have shown they're willing to pay for a better experience. In fact, a better experience is the primary differentiator. The extra $2.50 you pay into your Starbucks coffee isn't about the coffee. It's about the place, the quality of the cup and lid and yes – it's a bit about the coffee too.
Shun the Web at Your Own Peril
A few months ago, the New York Times released a product called the NY Times Reader. It's a desktop application that presents a cleaner, less-cluttered experience around reading the Times. They charge money for it (it's free to the paper's subscribes). It's a nice little app but my guess is the Times isn't seeing much traction on the Reader (I don't know this for certain, but my guess it's a niche market for such a tool).
So if people are willing to pay for that elevated experience, why didn't the Times Reader take off? It didn't take off is that it isn't the Web. It's this whole other thing that the world didn't really need. The Times feared the stereotype of the Web described above. They could've created a first class experience right in your Web browser, but they feared repercussions of putting a wall up on the Web.
Why?
Why not keep on delivering the same'ol NY Times with flying Apple ads to the masses for free and also deliver a World Class version of the Times that really takes it to another level in my browser? Would people pay for it? I think they would. As Readability has shown, people are crying out for a better reading experience inside their Web browser. While all the love for Readability has done wonders for Arc90's collective self-esteem, let's not kid ourselves. It's not that people love Readability, it's that they hate what the Web has become.
The thought shift that needs to occur isn't around charging money to see content. It's about charging money for a better experience. I want the equivalent of an Admiral's Club at the airport. I want to sip my wine and read the Wall Street Journal while the masses stumble over their bags trying to get through security.
The hurdle the NY Times and others need to get past is the overwhelming fear around messing with our view of what the "free Web" is today. App stores charge money for mobile "apps" and nobody flinches because they're not viewed as part of the Web. Desktop software enjoys the same general perception.
Eventually, someone's going to plant a stake in the ground and have a go at it. And eventually, something is going to stick. Content on the Web today reminds me of how music was littered all over Napster's scrap yard years ago. Yes, it was free, but it was one big stinkin' mess. "Yes, it was messy, but would people every pay for music?" I think that question's already been answered.
We need the iTunes experience for today's Web content.