June, 2009

Ebook complexity: good news for publishers


We are working on a project in this office to “grid” the ebook world. We’ll have a hard time doing it in fewer than four dimensions. What we see as “major headings” are: 1) hardware/readingdevices, 2) software/platforms, 3) file formats, and 4) ebook retailers. And after we get that sorted out, we’ll start thinking about the various commercial terms. I surprised a reporter this morning (who is probably less well-informed than most readers of this blog) when I told her that Apple gets paid for what goes on an iPhone out of the App Store, but not on what goes on an iPhone from the Kindle store. (And that’s just an example…)

This morning came the news that Canadian retailer Indigo is going to partner up with a reading device, the way Amazon has its Kindle and the way Barnes & Noble is rumored to be setting up for later this year. Although there are ways to get an ebook not purchased from Amazon onto a Kindle, and there will presumably be ways to get content not purchased from the retailer partner onto the Indigo and B&N devices (when they come), it isn’t easy. Most people I know who own a Kindle aren’t aware that they can get another ebook format onto it.

Complicating things further is an entirely different sort of offer coming up from Google. Everybody else, whatever the differences (and there are many!), is selling you a downloadable ebook file which you “own”. Google is selling you access to a file which they will stream to you. What’s the difference? Two big ones.

* When you close your web browser, you no longer have the book.

* Because of that, any concern about piracy goes away. If you can’t grab the file, you can’t “share” it.

This is game-changing in a very dramatic way. If you’re reading on a web browser, then there are no format issues. And if you don’t have the whole file, there are no piracy issues.

Google has also announced its intention to enable retailers to “sell” these books (or, perhaps we should say, sell access to these books) based on retail prices they would allow the publishers to set. Google reserves the right to alter the price (or remove the title completely) if the price is out of line for the category. Later reporting suggested that Google is ready to give up a big chunk of its notional 37% (that’s their share in the settlement; it wouldn’t have to apply here but apparently they’re using it as a baseline) to retailers to make it attractive to them to resell, but they want the publishers to put skin in that game too. One of the two big questions that arise today is: what margin will they offer retailers? (I’m on record favoring a reduction of the margin from what retailers get in the physical world.) The whole question of pricing is so complicated that I’m going to leave it here and take it up in some future post.

The second big question is “how much is in that cache?” which could be phrased as “how long a tunnel can I ride the train through and still continue reading my book?” Apparently there is new technology which could largely mitigate that problem

There is no question that reading an ebook this way will not be quite as convenient as an ebook that you have in your device. For one thing, with an iPhone you’ll face real battery life issues (being connected drains power faster.) But Google is an organization that looks to the future, and the future is cloud computing, not hard drives (or even flash drives!)

But while we focus serially on each new thing: Shortcovers and Cool-er Reader and Google ebooks, there is a larger reality being sketched, and it is very good news for publishers. The more complicated this world becomes, the more an author will need a professional organization, operating at scale, to deal with it for them. And the more it weakens Amazon. It might have seemed a year ago that we were headed for a world where Amazon would rule. They kept growing their printed book share and, with the Kindle, started gathering a significant percentage of the ebook market. With a combination of Kindle and their own BookSurge POD operation feeding their vast audience of book buyers, they were moving — inexorably it might have seemed — toward being a single point of distribution that could adequately serve the market for many books. And anybody who wanted to reach that market could just hand off the Word file when they were finished writing and not have to deal with anybody else.

The more there is a market that is not served by Amazon, the more any author needs a publisher, and the more any small publisher needs a distributor. The key role for publishers in the value chain is to manage complexity and detail. That is an end-to-end challenge: including editing and shaping, designing and “typesetting”, putting into distributable form (printed or electronic), elevating consumer awareness, and making it possible for retailers to sell (or, viewed another way, for consumers to buy.) As tools have made it easier to handle origination, getting from a manuscript to reproducible (check out Lulu for printed books or Smashwords for ebooks), the publisher’s role was challenged for some books. The reorganization of the consumption world from horizontal to vertical has also challenged trade publishers: their connections to the Times Book Review and Oprah aren’t as valuable as they used to be. 

But they could be saved by an ebook world so complicated that only the savviest players will be able to cover every corner of it. Coming up is the next big multiplier of complexity: when web sites start selling ebook downloads (or access) to the books that suit the vertical interests of their site visitors. The method for exploiting those opportunities in the printed book world was an affililate relationship with Amazon or BN.com because you needed somebody to manage delivery of a physical volume and they did it. In the ebook world, they’re just another unnecessary middle player. The stores will go straight to the ebook aggregators — Ingram or Content Reserve — or work directly with publishers if they have enough product to engage the vertical audience.

But even if the vertical players go to aggregators, and even if the aggregators largely manage all the complexity the supply chain is throwing at us, the ebook world is rapidly getting much too complicated for single players. If publishers (and the consultants they depend on) are getting a headache trying to keep all the new stuff straight, imagine how bewildering it is to the wannabe self-published author!


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Vertical and horizontal count in the newspaper business too


For some reason, I had missed the Mark Bowden article in the May issue of Vanity Fair about Arthur Sulzberger, the publisher and chairman of The New York Times. It’s a painful article, really, describing a guy who seems to be intelligent, decent, and ethical, and who is trying mightily to save his family legacy (the article is entitled “The Inheritance”) And not succeeding in the attempt.

Most of the time when you read critiques of legacy businesses: the Times, the networks, the book publishing industry that didn’t digitize before Google, Publishers Weekly, BEA; you get the writer’s assessment of where they went wrong. It’s the “railroads didn’t realize they were in the transportation business” argument, over and over again.

So when the article castigated the Times for its lack of vision for failing to make a deal with Amazon.com to sell the books out of TBR “because Barnes & Noble was a big advertiser”, I see it as 20-20 hindsight. There were very few people in the mid-1990s (when this took place) who would have seen the day coming when B&N would be playing second fiddle to Amazon in many ways. And there is no assurance — none at all — that if the Times had built this kind of relationship with Amazon, blowing off and alienating a big advertiser, that they would have held the position as “the newspaper that connects you to commerce.” Having paved the way, others would have followed. Unless Amazon were loyal, of course. You set your own odds on that.

I usually don’t buy the second-guessing. There is a reason that successful businesses don’t invent their replacements. It isn’t dumb not to see wholesale changes that will disrupt your entire business model. It is normal. Mistakes get made and the Times made plenty, including buying back their stock at peak pricing starting in the 1990s. In Sulzberger’s case, the inability to see the future clearly was compounded by personal loyalty to the wrong people. He might not have had the best judgment in people pinning his hopes on Howell Raines and Judith Miller, but I find it hard (though not impossible) to think less of somebody because they were decent to people whom they thought were decent to them.

Mark Bowden, the Vanity Fair editor who authored the piece, quotes Max Frankel making a cogent (and not frequently-enough made) and then highly-prescient point about how the net disaggregates. The strength of the Times in the 20th century was that it collected quality reporting and editing across a range of subjects in one broadsheet. You might like the sportswriters better in the News or the TV critic of the Post, but you made the choice of what newspaper you bought based on the totality of what they delivered. 

Of course, it doesn’t work that way on the Internet. You can readily read the Times from Baghdad, the News from Yankee Stadium, and the Post discussion of what was on Channel 2. Now each part of the paper has to stand on its own two feet, so to speak.

Vertical takes over from horizontal.

It was truly visionary to see the power of vertical when Max Frankel, who was executive editor of the Times in the 1990s, did. Frankel was asked near the end of his tenure to think about the impact of “computers” (says Bowden, I’d say “digital change”) on the news business. Frankel wrote two memos; one of them would have required the Times to sabotage its old business model (which is what legacy businesses are quite understandably loathe to do). But the other anticipated the vertical message and, had others been able to see around corners the way Frankel did, could have changed things dramatically. The same strategy still applies today, but it would be much harder to make it work.

The first memo Frankel wrote recognized that because computers managed databases, classified advertising in newspapers was doomed. Frankel suggested a Craigslist solution to the Times before there was a Craigslist. That his bosses didn’t buy it is, to me, totally understandable. Classified ads in the 1990s rescued newspapers from a slump in local advertising. Pursuing such a solution would have threatened to cripple an important revenue source.

But the lesson, of course, is this: if the opportunity to cannibalize an existing business is in the ether, do you want to do it yourself or have it done to you? If anybody at the Times took Frankel’s idea seriously enough to think about implementation, then they apparently missed that point. Yes, they could have done it. But, then, so could just about anybody else.

The second memo was the truly prescient one. Frankel saw the power of disaggregation (and, one might say, reaggregation by individuals!) As Frankel is quoted, “It was the totality of the newspaper that was the marvel, not any of its particulars.” Frankel suggested, in effect, that the Times build itself in verticals: be the place to go for sports, for business, for politics. Go after ESPN.com, the Wall Street Journal, and (before they existed) HuffPo and 538.com.

Would the Times be in a different position today if they had established several verticals ten years ago and built them? I think so.

This is an extraordinary lesson for the Big Six publishers. The power of your aggregation is weakening as well. But it won’t be each book that has to stand on its own, but each subject. The Times had an opportunity to work its way past this problem ten years ago.  Big horizontal trade publishers don’t have ten years. They better start to see the need to build up strength in verticals very soon or they will be envying the current position of the Times. Maybe one of them should hire Max Frankel to analyze the situation for them and write a report.


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BEA will be a shame to lose, but can it be saved?


Dinner Saturday night. 12 of us. Three spouses who had no particular interest in the BEA. Eight of us with one interest or another in the book business, but no possibility of personally being an exhibitor. And one publishing company CEO with a stand.

Of course, I got my money’s worth. I got in free as a speaker and live in Manhattan. I had several meetings with publishers and distributors on stands they were paying for that could result in assignments. I had other meetings with a bookstore chain and some technologists that came because of the publishers too that also could result in work.

An ROI of pretty much infinity. We all felt that way. Except for the exhibitor.

“No way it is worth it,” he reported. He even had to plan on having four people at the show on Sunday, just to cover the booth when he knew in advance there’d be hardly any productive business conversation. (BEA is fixing this next year by shifting to a mid-week schedule.)

I am always skeptical of any individual’s ability to characterize a show like this based on their own experience. After all, there were considerably more than 20,000 people there. There were dozens of panels going on that had great impact that I didn’t even know were happening, because I was engaged doing something on the floor. But, speaking for me, it was a great show. Lots of fun and lots of business.

Martin Levin, whose first ABA was in 1950 and who commented on my previous BEA post, argued with me about my prediction that BEA would soon come to an end. I had to remind him not to confuse what I say I think will happen from what I would hope would happen. It is work to keep those things separate.

Martin said, “being fat is no reason to commit suicide. This show is fat. It needs to go on a diet!” Another trade show veteran from one of the supporting technology companies said very much the same thing.

But wait, there’s another point of view. Make it biggerRichard Nash and Michael Cairns (two smart guys I agree with a lot, but not this time) both suggest “open the show up to the public.” Frankfurt does! Book festivals in Los Angeles and Miami attract huge crowds! 

Sorry, public participation is not the “solution” for this show. What ails this industry is horizontality! What ails this industry is dedication to the book as a form! Publishers need to understand niches better; they don’t need to try to replicate the horizontal world that is disappearing in newspapers and bookstores through trade shows!

What made BEA such a fabulous experience for those of us for whom it was that was the aggregating of all of the industry players from around the world. And not just publishers! What do Bowker, Bookmasters, and Klopotek (just to name three exhibitors who were important to me at this past weekend’s show) have to gain by having the public come in? The smartest publishers who are beginning to understand verticality — like Wiley or F+W or  Taunton — need to meet the public in verticals. They don’t need to spend a beautiful Sunday fending off people looking for a free novel or a free children’s book. (And, of course, the German model isn’t “free books for the public”. Exhibitors sell the books to the public off the stands! I wonder what the sales tax authorities in New York would say to that…)

I’d love it if Reed would keep BEA going for years and years, particularly when they bring the mountain to me on my very own home island. But I’m still having trouble seeing why publishers will keep paying and, if they don’t, no more show. I’m afraid that what will work for publishers is smaller and more focused, not larger and more horizontal. That may very well not work for Reed. I expect very shortly it won’t work for Reed. I think the rights-trading piece can be revived in a much cheaper form. The retailer-facing piece — horizontally — is a dinosaur. And all the PR opportunities occur because of the size and glitz. Like most horizontal PR opportunities for books, that won’t get replaced either.

My message of verticality is clearly not getting through! The Washington Post was kind enough to feature me on the front page of today’s Style section with a lengthy and, as far as it went, accurate summary of my Shift speech from last Thursday. But, you know what? Not one mention of the central theme: verticality!

These are twilight times for the good old days.


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